#as if they needed to fish for my tears even more

[littelovelunette]

sevika sees reader being groped by a man without her consent and saves her

Protector

Contains sexual harassment, mentions of rape, violence, blood, threats

You were on the toilet on your phone, well, who can blame you anyway? You just like scrolling, but seeing that today was your anniversary with Sevika, oh shit. You had forgotten.

With a sigh, you finished up your business in the bathroom and walked to the sink, you looked ghostly.

You couldn't go meet her like this, you took your phone off the bathroom counter and texted Sevika.

"Will you be free after your work for Silco?" You texted and it wasn't long before she replied. She was active probably because she was expecting your good morning text.

"Does me gambling seem like free time to you? Then, yes." Sevika's reply showed on the screen and you rolled your eyes.

"Want a pretty doll on your lap while you play?" You texted as you grinned despite your current messy hair, slightly oily face and groggy look.

"You know how to push my buttons right, bunny." Sevika replied and just then your phone rung as she called you. You got so shocked you almost dropped your phone.

"Hey," you said in a flirty tone making Sevika shake her head on the other side of the call. "Hey, bunny."

"What are you doing?" You asked and she replied with a small grunt, "Getting this damn mech arm on."

"Oh," you put the phone down on speaker as you brushed your hair, "Well, I assume you haven't told anyone that we're seeing each other?"

"No, not yet, why?"

"Nothing," you said despite the way your fingers wrapped around the brush handle harshly. Sevika, of course, didn't know how much every small gesture meant to you but had she seen the way you were gripping the hairbrush she'd know.

"'Suppose I don't want people thinking I'm one of your causal girlies." You answered after a bit as you pulled your hair back using a clawclip.

"Casual girlies..." Sevika repeated before she went silent for a while. "Just tell it to my face you want us to be exclusive."

"Of course, I do." You said indignantly and then sighed, "I just— you know very well I have trust issues. And given your record with the brothel, I'm going to be honest, I don't put you past a potential cheater."

"That's how we're playin', bunny?" You could hear the sound of a lighter clicking on the other side as Sevika placed the cigarette between her lips, "Okay, then, come to Last Drop today during the evening." Sevika said calmly and you could hear the quiet whirring of her metal arm.

"Alright, honey, I love you." You said with a giggle.

"Love you too." Sevika replied in a grumble before she hung up the call. You looked at yourself in the mirror and sighed turning the tap on, brushing your teeth and washing your face.

You needed to doll up today, it made you feel giddy, dolling up for Sevika.

You took a hot shower, washed your hair, put on deodorant and wore a grey shirt with a brown pleated skirt underneath with black opaque stockings paired with black boots.

You were still so incredibly sleepy as you fished through your jewellery, indecisive but ended up on a minimalistic locket.

You tried several different hairstyles, each one messier than the other not to mention the tangles it left your hair in. "Ughhh!" You groaned and pulled the hair tie out, successfully tearing a bit more of your hair. "Maybe I won't tie my hair." You muttered as you worked on untangling your hair.

After a long while, you finally finished up your look, sitting down to do your makeup next. "Oh gosh, this will take a while." You mumbled. Everything needed to be absolutely perfect and onspot.

About 30 minutes later, you finished your whole look and admired yourself in the mirror for atleast another fifteen minutes, taking pictures and trying different poses. Finally, after you finished your self-obsession routine you headed out of your apartment.

"Fuck," you cursed, you had forgotten your purse inside. You opened the door again, heading in, grabbing your purse which had your phone, money and keys, and if you hadn't misplaced it your taser.

You looked the door and headed down the stairs, the apartment unit you lived in was small and nothing way too over the top, just enough to get by. You hummed to yourself as you walked slowly, taking your time on your way to Last Drop.

You opened the door and stepped into the bar, the smell of cigarettes, alcohol, sweat and gun powder filling your senses. Your eyes narrowed a little as you looked around for Sevika but the woman was nowhere to be seen, perhaps she would be late, you thought.

You reached into your purse and withdrew your phone to text her before suddenly your phone was knocked out of your hand, a man grabbing your waist and wrist with both hands.

“Hey!” You began but then his drunken eyes made you trail off in whatever you were going to say.

“Leave me alone.” You said firmly but then he slurred out, “Why is that sweetheart? Let me give you some company.”

He rubbed his clothed dick against your thigh making you shiver and almost throw up in disgust. “Let go of me!” You said, voice raising a little as you tried to pry yourself away from the creepy man.

The man, never letting go, spoke in a dangerously low voice, “There's a gun in my jacket, you wanna feel that barrel up in yo’ cunt?” His voice was now a whisper, “Stop struggling.”

You felt as if your heart dropped to your stomach at that threat. Fuck, where was Sevika when you needed her? Your eyes darted around in desperate search of her but there was no sign of her.

“Please,” you pleaded, eyes almost starting to water now, “Please, let me go. I swear, I won't tell anyone, please.”

“Typical damsel in distress ‘i won't tell anyone' bullshit.” The man laughed, the tone harsh and humourless. “You're not going anywhere. You're coming back to my place and then I get to do absolutely whatever I want with you.” He said, face inching closer to yours, “And do you know what'll be the first thing I'll do?”

“W-what?” You stuttered your question out but just then the man received a smack to his cheek that made him go flying towards the other end of the bar. His body crashed with the table and bar wall, scattering drinks and shattering glass everywhere.

Standing at an imposing height was Sevika, draped in her red poncho, glaring down at the people of the bar and the man with a type of aggression so feral, you'd think she was on Shimmer except there was no glow in her grey eyes.

“Did he hurt you?” Her voice was low and calculated, but you knew how angry she was deep down inside, the tinge of worry in her words didn't fail to show as well.

“I'm okay.” You said, voice shaking a little as you held your own arms, rubbing at your own elbows. “Sevika, please, can we leave here?” Your voice shuddered and Sevika didn't answer for a bit, contemplating before she nodded.

Sevika outstretched her flesh arm for you to come under it, like a mother bird shielding its little one, “Everyone, see this woman? This is my woman.” Sevika announced, “If you even look at her general direction with anything less than a decent thought,” Sevika let the threat hang, throwing the man who was now openly bleeding on the ground a dirty look before walking out of the bar with you.

The moment you both reached her house, Sevika closed the door behind herself and threw her poncho to the ground, “Let me see.” She started checking all over your body, “Didn't hurt you, did he?” Her voice was soft and a little frantic as she searched your body.

“I'm fine…” you mumbled, taking her hands in yours, “Just a little shaken.”

Sevika didn't say anything quietly pulling you in a bone crushing hug, hand on your head, metal hand on your lower back.

Your eyes closed, resting against the taller woman's chest, “Oh, Sevika.” You mumbled.

“Shh,” she hushed you, her voice soft and uncharacteristically gentle, “I got you.”

[handfulofmuses]

Bradford himself appears to be a little shaky at this point, including his breath. Something just snapped within the beast in that moment and he was unable to stop himself.

It’s been far too long since he unleashed that kind of fury, a storm of emotion that had been bottled up inside. Hidden away like any good actor would. Concealing it like you have to do in a job like this one. There was no room for any kind of weakness.

“You made it abundantly clear back then that you couldn’t have given a damn. I am more than aware of it. So you don’t get to talk about how my actions could have killed you when  … you …. did the same  … thing. You say I don't get what I did to you? I just don't give a damn."

His breath comes in ragged gasps, heavy with the weight of exhaustion—emotionally drained and physically worn from the relentless assault he’s maintained.

He is exhausted. Weary. But, despite that Bradford laughs along. Why is he laughing? What’s so funny? The fact that they are actually talking? Who knows at this point.

Perhaps because everything suddenly turned so absurd? Maybe because although he is angry, everything about this fight felt so freeing. Like a whole pressure just lifted from his chest.

“That’s the difference, is it not?  Nobody would even know you existed. But they did care  … about the image they created for me. It’s always about getting molded in someone‘s image. And you have to hold it up so you can be perfect for everybody. Because when the whole world is watching  … you will need to maintain that image. One slip up and the Headlines are flowing. We are as different as it gets."

There was fear.

Xever was never afraid of him before. A beat on his side for a moment, giving the fish enough time for his next words.

“It’s called discipline. You know as well as I do that failure is to be punished. You take it too, don’t you? You know the consequences of speaking against him."

Yet each time, Bradford was put in place a paralyzing fear whenever it happened. It was not uncommon to be kicked and punched around while he also tries to slice you with your weapons while threateningly approaching so that your whole body starts shaking.

And it’s what Bradford continues to do with others, heartless and merciless, a wolf unleashed, desperately seeking an outlet for his own pent-up rage. He has been shaped by the worst, molded into an obedient hound dog. It was not uncommon for the wolf to take his frustration out on someone, with Xever, Stockman or any of lower rank usually the target of it.

"The worst part is...he is right. About everything he says. Look at us! Look how long we have been in that cursed City and we still have not managed to take down our targets! Who are nothing more than a bunch of teens!"

It’s only now that Rahzar takes in the scent of blood mingled with the salty sting of tears. His gaze flickers to the fish, confusion etched across his face, his ears folding back in an instinctive show of vulnerability.. He mostly used kicks, but the claws on his foot was still sharp. It’s only now that he noticed the red paint on his hand as well, dripping from his claws. Did he swipe? He doesn’t remember doing that, he just didn’t stop with his attacks, entirely out of control.

What is this, tragic sob story confession on both ends? It’s making him sick.

When Xever hold onto his face, Rahzar simply pressed their foreheads together as he was snarling. It’s a staring contest now.

“So what if I blame myself? It was my responsibility. I could have prevented all this! Master Shredder trusted me with this job and look what happened! His greatest student, beat up by a bunch of teens, tied up inside a trash can while getting rolled and tossed across the city, only for my fate to depend on the one person who couldn’t care less. I would have rather they tossed me than to live with that kind of humiliation just because they don’t have the stomache to go through with it. And when we found an opportunity? THIS HAPPENED.”

He gestures to all of himself. The beast that he has become.

“Those freaks went away unscathed every time! I was planning on taking us all down but they get to walk away without a scratch. Meanwhile the mutagen burned away on us while you almost died, but no, they got away unscathed. I trained an army of the best and lethal ninjas in the world! They beat them up effortlessly and just get to walk away unscathed while Master Shredder kicks and beats me around!”

How on earth can an army of the most lethal ninjas in the world get beaten so easily? If life was a cartoon, likely because of plot armor. But it’s not!

“Why?! Because he wants me to do the impossible every time! Because apparently he got so lost in his obsessive vengeance that he now thinks soldiers can be trained in a single day! But instead, we get robots because he is running out of patience.The only reason why he keeps us around is because he has not found the proper replacement for us.”

He snarls.

“You think it is as simple as someone being better than me? The shame I brought to my master, it's unbearable - I am no longer even worthy to work alongside him because he sees me as a disgrace to the Foot. Ever since he found out Hamato Yoshi is still alive, that's all that matters and the longer it goes on, the further he loses himself into his madness!

You want me to admit it? That all this time I let my self hatred control me because I was crushed by the expectations placed upon us? That I wish whatever happened would have killed us instead of turning into the freaks we are now? That I was terrified to return to Master Shredder empty handed because I knew what he would do to us and all reason and logic went out of the window because of it? You can hate me all you want for what happened that day, but nobody hates Chris Bradford more than Chris Bradford."

He feels drained. Both physically and emotionally - but mostly emotionally.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you? For me to put you out of your misery? There was a time when I wanted to. I was looking forward to prepare Sushi. But -“

That’s not how he feels anymore.

“I don’t care about the other thing. You can take what I throw at you and toss it right back. And for what it is worth? It means something.“

Xever was an outlet - one that could bite back just as hard. Maybe it's because the fish was the only consistent interaction he had nowadays - and he did not want to lose that. The only way Xever would find death was if Master Shredder ordered him to do it.

His hand moved for an attempt to snatch the dorsal fin so he could lift Xever to his feet.

“So pick yourself up. This is nothing than a scratch for you. We both know Xever Montes does not go down easily. If you can keep running your mouth, you can keep running those robo legs of yours.”

Music

There is a haze, Xever listens to the rage of Bradford tries to listen as his blood is splattered everywhere but all Xever does is laugh. He is laughing so hard at all of the words coming out of this dog's mouth. Yeah, Xever had been right. He had been right all along. This person at his very core, was just as spiteful, just as terrible, just as uncaring. They may come from opposite sides of the world, opposite sides of society, opposite sides of wealth, yet at the center they were just empty shells with only the smallest thing to cling to. Someone so isolated that they were left to stew in those terrible emotions for years on end with no one reaching out a hand to them.

"Ha...ha...ha...there is none...I know what I am...and now I finally get to see you too. You tried to hide it...you tried to deny it...but deep down...you and I...we're the same. What if you had died then? Would I have cared? Nope! Because why the fuck would I? No one cared about me...no one ever cared about me...and no one cared about you either. Not the real you...just the you they wanted to see..."

Xever was shaking, obviously part of him is scared right now. Yet, he is smiling so strongly looking towards the man who took everything from him because in this moment he won. He got to see that side the bastard locked up tighter than Fort Knox. He got to wear Raz down to the point where that true self was coming out for the first time. So, why not show his real side too? That was what Xever wanted deep down. That was the real reason he was doing this, always had been.

"You had Shredder sure...but look what his care has become now...he treats you like an abused child...while you just stand there and take it. A man like that could never give you what you truly wanted...hell the man is so obsessed with revenge on that rat that he'd watch the whole world burn. Haha...its so funny you call me a rat...god it's so funny...I can't help but laugh...I am a joke too...just like you..."

He's hurt more and more, he is struggling to hold it together. Tears come out from his eyes as he talks the smile never leaves, but the fishman is crying now. Because it is all so funny. Their lives are a creul joke, a joke where the punchline is their very existance. No one could write content like this, because it was so ironic that it hurt.

"I had someone once too...someone I clinged to...someone I put my all for...he was my brother...not my real brother...but he was there for me when no one else was. I pushed myself so hard for him...I made myself into a person I never would have become if not for him. I spent years with him, I went on heists with him...he was my whole world...nothing could ever hurt me so long as he needed me. But, do you know what happened? I made one mistake...one small mistake...and he turned on me...threw out all those years like they were nothing. How was I supposed to react to that? Hahahaha...nope...I just laughed...laughed at how stupid I was..."

As the shadow grows closer and closer Xever's head lulls backwards as he keeps looking into the yellow eyes of the dog of many faces. Chris Bradford, Dogpound and now Rahzar. A man can wear so many faces yet can only ever had only one that was real. The fish kept gripping onto the real face. He wasn't letting it go now that he had it.

"What you hated about me...is plain to see...because no one hates us more than we hate ourselves. Because why wouldn't we? We can lie...we can pretend...we can mush it up as much as we like...but...we are our own worst critics...you still blame yourself don't you? Even now, you still think it deep down...you try to cover it...but you do blame yourself the most...because I do...you are going through what I did with Rajan...and I...can't help but think wow...that's so funny..."

Xever struggled to hold on, he was hanging on so much. And it showed how much effort he was putting into it. He shook his head back and forth the pain was getting to his head now. Yet, still Xever still kept on talking despite how much he has trouble continuing.

"So...you can go ahead and kill me...like you no doubt have wanted to all this time. Kill me for baring your true self to the world...kill me...for always throwing back anything you threw at me. But, I want you to know this Chris Bradford, Dogpound, or Rahzar that if you do that...then you'll lose the only person in the whole damn world who could grow to care about the real you. I admit I am a bastard, I am a heartless bastard...but...when I see you...when I see myself in you...its like looking into a mirror. And at somepoint...you get sick of beating yourself up. You don't have to prove anything to me...you don't have to be your best...you don't have to be a mindless dog...you can just be you...and I will accept you...we might suck right now...but if we suck together we might not be as bad anymore...I am so tired...of being...me all by myself...so if you're there too...then it might be fun..."

[houkagokappa]

Fragrant olive (Osmanthus fragrans) might be my favourite shrub/small tree of all time. It's known for its intense, sweet fragrance, like ripe apricots. You can instantly tell when there's a fragrant olive in the neighborhood when they bloom, as it's heavenly to be greeted by their fragrance

[pinksilvace]

I am not immune to siren!Shinsou

[suiana]

yandere! merman who's (unfortunately) a frequent visitor to your front yard.

living on the beach had its ups and downs. being able to witness such a beautiful sight every day and night, no matter the seasons was really amazing. the fact that you worked as a beach lifeguard also meant that you could head to work much more conveniently.

unfortunately that's about as good as the positives get. not with the ever increasing living expenses and your stupidly handsome fish intruder.

he pops up in your backyard every single day. every. SINGLE. day.

at first it was cute and interesting. oh! a gorgeous merman making himself comfortable in your front yard, tail in the water while he lounges on the sand and tries to talk to you.

you gave into him of course. yes, you have met several other merfolk in your time as a lifeguard. yet there was something about him that drew you in. was it the fact that he would constantly break into your front yard and act like he belonged there? or the fact that he had massive tits and there were always just staring at you? you weren't sure.

plus he was also really interesting too! he (coincidentally) had all the same interests as you and (obviously) also knew you in and out! talking to him was just so so enjoyable! he was extremely cuddly, nuzzling into your neck while he mutters words of affirmations that do wonders to your touch starved heart. aw! it's like he likes you or something :)

but it became annoying. he wouldn't leave you no matter how much you tried. in fact, he'd even FORCE you to stay on the beach with him, holding your hand down as he looked at you with the most emotionally manipulative look. lips all pouty and eyes glossed over, tears threatening to spill. the fact that your house was right there too, just a few steps out of reach... it was like he was purposely trying to tease you or something. hello dude, you aren't my boyfriend! you can't keep me here!

you'd think because he was half fish it would mean he wouldn't be able to stay above land for extended periods of time. but boy, you swear you never really see him enter the water. actually, you swear you see him on land more often!

trying to catch him off guard and enter the water is also near impossible too. it's like he has some sort of power or telekinesis or whatnot. you tried faking sleep just to sneak a glance of him off your porch, maybe even seeing him enter the beautiful waters.

nope. what you got was a JUMPSCARE with him staring right back at you, eyes all wide and mouth open, showcasing rows of sharp teeth. you've never tried to see him away again.

you couldn't even bring other people home anymore. not with him flopping around, glaring and hissing at anyone who dared to even glance at you for a second too long. what seemed like a handsome and harmless fishman was now a nuisance and fucking creepy presence in your already dull life.

have i mentioned the fact that you're a lifeguard? yeah, because of his constant hovering (or flopping) around you, you can't even do your job properly. he doesn't even let you go save people that are clearly in need of help! he just scowls and tells the people to stop drowning! muttering about how if they were a better swimmer they wouldn't be in this position in the first place!

like???

oh well, at least he doesn't do anything more than forcing you to talk to him as long as possible, scaring away all potential suitors and just people in general, and staying in your front yard for way too long, right?

um... you might want to look out your window... uh... yeah, new merfolk. oldies? yeah um, they're his parents. he wants you to meet them. like, right now. and he's also wearing some intricate jewellery that he hasn't worn before.

and is that... a ring?

oh. well.

hahaha...

good luck lifeguard! hopefully he (most definitely) isn't trying to marry you! that would be bad! like, super bad! haha!

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Ferine.

Pairing: Yandere!Toji x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 4.1k.

TW: Hybrid AU, Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Slight Manipulation, Rough Sex, Oral Sex, Knotting, Mentions of Blood + Violence, Slight Breeding, and Biting.

Toji was, by far, the largest hybrid you’d ever taken care of.

Which, technically speaking, wasn’t that big of an accomplishment. This was barely your third month at the research facility, and you could count the number of hybrids you’d encountered before being hired here on a single hand. Still, even compared to the other wolves you currently looked after, Toji was beyond impressive. His long, pointed ears and stocky build set him well above six-foot, and even if he’d lacked height, he would’ve been able to make up for it with the planes of sculpted muscle circled around his biceps and thighs, laid over his chest and back. Top it all off with a set of claws each longer than your pointer finger and sharp enough to pierce reinforced steel, and he was practically fit for exhibit. Not that Toji could ever actually be a show dog, no – he’d tear the judges apart before they’d so much as heard his name. He was sweet, but he had a temper. You had to be careful not to set him off.

His fangs were impressive, too – perfectly in-tact despite years of less-than-adequate care, only a touch duller than a real wolf’s. You were careful not to let your hand stray from where it cupped his cheek as you looked for signs of damage or rot only to, of course, come up empty. The longer you spent with him, the more convinced you were that nothing could actually hurt Toji, even if the faded scar stitched into the corner of his mouth suggested otherwise.

“All done,” you started, letting go of his cheek. Immediately, Toji’s jaw snapped shut with enough strength to take off a finger, had you given him the chance. “Perfect as always, Toji. I think you might be my best patient.”

A cocky smile found its way to his lips, and you could hear his tail beating lazily against the dirt floor of his enclosure. The facility was committed to replicating the natural environments of their more exotic hybrids as closely as possible, even if Toji claimed he’d trade it all for a punching bag, or better yet, something ‘real’ to dig his teeth into, whatever that meant. “Do I get a treat, doc?”

It was asked playfully, but still, you hummed by way of confirmation, pulling your duffle bag into your lap and fishing Toji’s well-earned rewards – a generic chocolate bar and a can of some painfully acidic, sickeningly sweet brand of soda your hybrid patients couldn’t seem to get enough of. It was a meager prize, but it was as much as you were able to spare considering how strict his caretakers were when it came to his diet. You’d probably save yourself a few dirty looks if you didn’t give him anything at all, but it didn’t feel right to leave him empty-handed.

He accepted your humble offering greedily. While the chocolate bar was stowed away for later consumption, the can was pierced with a clawed thumb and emptied in one long, unpleasantly audible swig. You’d only started to push yourself to your feet when Tojj finished, letting the now empty can fall to the ground before turning his attention back to you. “It hurts my feelings, knowing you’re just gonna run off and put your hands on another animal.” His ear pressed flat against his scalp, as if he was trying (and failing) to feign disappointment. “If I didn’t know better, I’d start to think you didn’t really care about all the time we’ve spent together.”

“You’re not exactly in desperate need of medical attention,” you chided, throwing your bag over your shoulder. “And I’m on a schedule. Not all of us can sit around, grooming ourselves all day.”

That earned a breathy laugh, a coy lilt to his smile. “Well, if you wanted to take a shot at it, I wouldn’t—”

“Save it. I get enough of that with the cats.” Just thinking about it made you grimace. It was one thing to think that Toji might bite you. Knowing Satoru and Suguru – the bonded leopard and panther pair who shared a check-up date with Toji – would insist on licking any exposed skin raw before letting you do your job was a much more tangible reality. “I’ll see you in a couple of days. You’ll be good until then, right?”

“I’m gonna gut those fucking strays.” His answer was blunt, immediate, but he cracked as soon you shot him a purse-lipped frown. “Kidding, kidding. I’ll just rough ‘em up a little – make ‘em regret putting their paws on you, y’know?”

You couldn’t help but soften. Toji was rough around the edges, but he wasn’t a bad dog. He just had a protective streak and that, paired with his brash personality and tendency to bite before he barked, was enough for most people to write him off.

You really did have a long, long list of other appointments you had to get to before the end of the day, but against your better judgement, you paused as you passed him, reaching down to rake your fingers through sleek black hair. He was stoic, especially for a hybrid, but even his cool, dark eyes and wry smile couldn’t hide the way his tail moved just a little faster at the feeling of your nails raking over his scalp, his ears immediately perking up. It only took a second for him to bat your hand away, but you only laughed as you started towards the staff exit, waving to Toji over your shoulder.

Maybe, for his next check-up, you’d see if you could sneak in something special.

~

“Your mutt’s been unruly, lately.”

You glanced up from your clipboard, turning your full attention to Nanami and quickly finding that he hadn’t paid you the same courtesy. He was one of the senior researchers and, so far, the only one you could stand to be around for any longer than a few minutes. Since the higher-ups expected you to fill out your reports with one hand while you took a four-hundred-pound tiger’s temperature with the other, you tended to camp out in Nanami’s office when you had paperwork to file. “Toji?” Nanami nodded, and you rolled your eyes. “I’m just the vet, Kento. If his handlers aren’t doing their—”

“The problem isn’t his handlers, it’s him.”

His voice was flat, his tone icy. You laid your clipboard over your lap, crossing your arms over your chest. “He’s an animal. It’d be more out of character if he didn’t lash out occasionally.”

Nanami opened his mouth, but closed it just as quickly. After a lengthy pause, he leaned back in his seat, bringing a hand to his temples and massaging absentmindedly. “Do you know why he hasn’t been released back into the wild, yet?”

Obviously. Working with hybrids – let alone exotic hybrids – was dangerous, and your debriefing had drilled the face, name, and background of every animal in the facility into your memory. “He was born in captivity. He’s too acclimated to human society to adjust to the wilderness.”

Nanami pressed his lips into a thin line – an expression you’d learned to read as ‘you’re right, but I’m not going to say that’. Still, a degree of satisfaction accompanied his silent confirmation. “He was found in a dog fighting ring – or, what was left of one, at least. It took three rounds of sedation and two broken muzzles before our recovery team was able to get him under control.”

A knot formed at the base of your throat. Fuck chocolate, Toji deserved a blanket and as many hugs as he would let you give him. “That’s terrible, Kento. Were the organizers arrested?”

“The organizers—” Nanami straightened. “—were found mauled and stuffed into a kennel. Their bodies were so thoroughly mutilated, we had to rely on blood samples to identify them.”

“Wolves aren’t known for attacking unprovoked. It could’ve been another—”

“One of his handlers is currently hospitalized,” Nanami went on, as if you hadn’t cut in. “And two have already turned in their resignations – a resounding fear for their welfare in the workplace, supposedly.”

Your eyes fell to the floor, and that knot in your throat tightened until only the barest whisper could find its way out. “He’s not a bad dog,” you muttered, nearly under your breath. “He just— He loses his temper, sometimes. He doesn’t mean to hurt anymore.”

“He’s never tried to hurt you?”

You didn’t have to think before shaking your head. “Never.”

That, of all things, seemed to catch Nanami’s attention. For the first time, his eyes flickered briefly to you before falling back to his desk, his paperwork. “Good,” he said, marking down something on a piece of scrap paper in front of him. If he felt the need to elaborate, he clearly didn’t deem it worth the effort.

Later that day, you were informed that you were being transferred to the reptile wing indefinitely. If you’d been there for a few more months, if you’d had a little more experience to throw around, if you’d had a little more authority, you might’ve protested, but it was all you could do to nod and set to memorizing your new schedule.

~

It took exactly three weeks for you to see Toji again.

One of his handlers – a woman in her early twenties sporting a pressed scowl and a gauze-padded bandage on her cheek – met you at the facility’s gates and flatly told you that Toji was injured. You’d never been in the facilities (much less with a hybrid) after sundown, and in the simulated wilderness of his enclosure, it was easy to forget that you were never more than twenty feet away from a security camera, that there was only one apex predator you had to be afraid of. After checking your usual meeting spot (clear spot near the center of his enclosure – neutral territory, safe territory) and finding it vacant, you reluctantly stumbled your way to his den, dragging your feet despite the urgency of the situation. Toji wouldn’t deliberately attack you, but any animal could react if provoked. You didn’t want to set him off. More importantly, you didn’t want to prove Nanami right.

You’d never ventured far enough to see his den, but you knew what to expect. A square shell of cement occupied the deepest corner of Toji’s enclosure, bracketed off by a metal door tucked inside of a deep entryway meant to give the illusion of privacy. You approached it slowly, stepping underneath the shadowed overhang with no small amount of caution, but you didn’t get the chance to knock before a hand manifested on your shoulder and shoved you against the cold steel.

Claws bit into to the dip of your shoulder, then your wrist, too, as he caught your hand and shoved it into the small of your back. You felt hot air on the nape of your neck, heard heavy panting laced with the barest trace of a throaty growl, and it took everything you had not to panic, not to struggle, not to give him a reason to dig his teeth into your neck and tear. Toji wasn’t a bad dog, but he was still a dog. He’d still bite, if given an excuse.

“Toji,” you started, slowly, taking care to soften each harsh syllable of his name. “I’m here to help you.”

He didn’t respond, his hold only tightening. His check pressed into your back, and there was a short, airy noise – sniffing, as little as you wanted to put a name to it. “Toji,” you repeated, with more urgency. “I heard you were hurt. Will you let me help you?”

A second passed in silence, then another. Finally, he pulled away from you, releasing your wrist first, then your shoulder. He remained where he was – a little too close, a little too looming – as you shuffled to face him, forcing yourself not to consciously acknowledge that you were in a very big cage with a very poorly behaved animal. His handlers hadn’t mentioned why they’d needed you, but you didn’t have to wonder for very long. Even in the pitch dark, you could see the dark blood covering his jaw, washed over his throat and chest. It was on his hands, too, coating the white bone of his claws, and matted into his dark hair. Your waning self-control faltered then shattered altogether, your hands shooting to his head, his face, searching for bruising or swelling or broken bones, but surprisingly, all your worry earned was an airy laugh. “It’s not mine, doc.” He laid a hand over yours. “I’m doin’ just fine. Even better, now that you’re here.”

But he wasn’t. Twin sets of puncture marks were littered across his throat, his face, his arms. Something had taken a chunk out of his left bicep, and five matching scratch marks had been etched deep into the skin of his chest. The wounds looked feline, but you couldn’t bring yourself to linger on the implications. “You’re hurt,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. Your hands fell to his shoulders, pushing him downward gently. “I— I’ve got bandages, and sutures—” You let your bag fall from your shoulder to your elbow, already reaching for the zipper. “Find somewhere to sit. We should get you cleaned up before something worse sets in.”

Panic was quickly overshadowing your better judgement, but Toji didn’t move, didn’t look away from you. He was still wearing that coy, sardonic grin – almost teasing, given your anxiety. “I already told you, I’m just fine.” His smile widened, until his pointed fangs caught in the dim light. “I didn’t think you’d actually come. They said I could ask for whatever I wanted, but—” He paused, sucked in a sharp breath. “I didn’t think you’d actually come.”

“Toji, you’re not making any sense. You need help.” Again, you pushed gently on his shoulders, and again, he didn’t seem to notice. This time, though, he shifted, leaned toward you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You scowled, shoving a little less gently on his chest, but Toji didn’t move. “Toji, please, just let me help—”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, princess.” You felt his hands on your waist, then your ass. His chest was slotted against yours, and his tongue ran unabashedly over the curve of your neck once, then twice before he went on. “Keep sayin’ my name like that, and I won’t be able to control myself.”

Something pressed into your thigh – hot and hard and, like the rest of Toji, fucking huge. Your heart fell into your stomach, the air flooding out of your lungs and leaving you dazed, breathless.

Fuck. Fuck.

You should’ve stuck with the fucking reptiles.

Toji was panting audibly, again; his tongue lapping over your neck, your cheek. You were still cursing yourself for ever applying for this shitty job in the first place when Toji fell to his knees, forcing your thighs onto his shoulders as his claws caught on the fabric of your pants, decimating the thin material in an instant. His teeth tore away your panties just as quickly, leaving you exposed, splayed out on a silver platter in front of him. You reacted reflectively – knotting your fingers in his hair and doing your best to pry him away from you, but your strength was nothing compared to his and in the end, all you earned was a throaty groan, a tight squeeze to your ass before he buried his face in your cunt. His teeth grazed against the tender insides of your thighs, his claws biting into your now-unprotected skin, but the feeling of his tongue laving over the length of your slit replaced every other sensation with pure heat.

Predictably, he was near animalistic – his thick tongue fucking into you as the bridge of his nose ground shamelessly into your clit. From a distance, it would’ve been hard to tell if he was trying to eat you out or eat you alive; every noise he made feral and wet, punctuated with rough growls and little, uncharacteristic whines. It would’ve been impossible not to feel anything, but still, you couldn’t help but hate yourself when it started to feel good. His tongue was thick and textured, long enough to fill your pussy and flexible enough to curl inside of you, abusing the walls of your cunt without mercy. It was difficult to tell how much of the gloss staining his chin and the inside of your thighs was his drool and how much of it was your arousal, but even if your mind was disgusted by every slick noise and sharp flick of his tongue, there was nothing your body could do to block out the sudden pang of heat in your core, to fight the way your legs ached to clench around his head and pull the source of your revulsion that much closer.

“To—Toji, no, st—” you tried to say, like you were scolding a normal dog, like any part of you still thought he was listening. A cracked moan cut you off prematurely, and even if it hadn’t, Toji’s only response was a bruising squeeze to your ass, a low moan just loud enough to reverberate against your sensitive clit. Blinding white flashed across your vision, and before you could stop, before you could bring yourself back from that edge, you were coming undone on his tongue, your hips bucking against his face as he nursed you through your mind-numbing climax. Rather than pull away, he forced his tongue that much deeper into your pussy – taking advantage of your hypersensitivity to drag another unwilling orgasm out of you, then another, until the dried blood smeared across his lips was tacky and dripping onto your skin. He only pulled away when your little, pained sounds began to die into half-choked pleas and your limited strength failed, leaning you limp and boneless on top of him, and even then, he took the time to drag his tongue over your slit, to lap up what would’ve been wasted slick. You would’ve given anything for him to just leave you like that – messy and covered in your own arousal, but unfortunately, Toji had never been a bad dog.

His gaze flitted up to meet yours. “Sorry, princess,” he muttered, when he saw the misery knitted into your expression. The broad grin he wore was anything but apologetic, though. “Might’ve gotten carried away after all. Can’t help it – you always come to me, smellin’ like other men, and nobody ever lets me do anything about it.” He nuzzled into the inside of your thigh, nipping at the tender flesh with just enough force to break the skin. There was a tight pinch, of bright spark of pain, but Toji tended to the minimal wound lovingly, running his tongue over the thin stream of blood. “Gonna have you nice n’ scented by the end of the night.” A sharp whimper slipped past your grit teeth as the points of his fangs grazed over your skin, and Toji sighed. “Gonna have you nice n’ bred, too, if you keep making those sounds.”

Bred. Bred. Bred. You turned the offensive word over in your mind, unable to grasp what it possibly could’ve meant, as Toji carefully lowered you onto the ground – never so much as toying with the idea of fucking you into anything other than the cold, raw earth. It wasn’t until his clawed hand fell to the hard, pulsing cock standing stiffly between his legs that you were able to fully process what he’d said, what he was threatening to do to you. Your thoughts went blank, your years of veterinary school and countless hours of animal-handling training and common sense all dissolving into total nonexistence in an instant. It didn’t matter that he was taller than you, stronger than you – you were already throwing your full weight against him, scratching at his chest with your blunt nails, doing everything in your so incredibly limited power just to get away from him. Your latest wave of resistance wasn’t enough to overwhelm him, but it earned a frustrated rumble at the base of his throat, a downward quirk to his cocky smile. Your nails caught one of the puncture marks on his cheek and, reflexively, he straightened his back, brought his hand to his face, left just enough space between your body and his for you to roll onto your chest and scramble desperately towards freedom. You’d barely gotten your knees underneath you when his hand lashed out, catching you by the collar and forcing your cheek into the soil. His chest pressed into your back, his legs caging yours in on either side, and worst of all, his cock throbbed against your ass – somehow, impossibly, harder than it’d been a few seconds ago. You might’ve jotted it down as an impressive display of canine resilience, if you hadn’t felt so desolated.

“Shoulda figured you wouldn’t make this easy on yourself.” His voice was rougher than it had been, but no less self-satisfied. That made sense. Wolves were endurance predators. He would’ve come into this expecting there to be a struggle. “I thought you’d be more of a mate than a bitch, but—” He paused, his mouth settling against the nape of your neck. “—either’s fine by me.”

You clenched your eyes shut. “Please, Toji, don’t do—”

But, it was already too late. He rutted your ass once, then twice, before his tip caught on the entrance to your abused pussy and he was inside of you, fully sheathed without a trace of resistance.

Toji was big, even for a hybrid. He was a hunter, tried and true, all muscle and agility and pure, unfaltering strength. Even with his generous (albeit, unwelcomed) prep, it was all you could do to convince yourself that his cock wouldn’t tear you apart. He was thick enough to press against every soft and sensitive spot inside of you, long enough to leave a tight knot of pressure sitting in the pit of your stomach, and when he started to move, pulling out slowly before slamming back in, the force alone was enough to scatter little black spots in the corner of your vision and leave you hazy, light-headed. The way he was fucking into you didn’t help anything, either. Keening whines slipped out of some deep, feral pocket of his chest as he took advantage of your vulnerable cunt, alternating between grinding into you with a desperate sort of clinginess and trying to bully his way that much deeper with bruising, brutal thrusts. One arm wrapped around your midriff, dragging you even close to him, while a groping hand found the delicate buttons of your top and tore, ridding you of what was left of your protection against him. He kneaded half-consciously at your chest as he fucked into you; his own pleasure suddenly his only priority.

His selfishness should’ve been a welcome change, but you were too far gone, your body too eager to find a silver lining to his rough affection. Your hands clawed mindlessly at the ground as he pumped into you, the heat of his body against yours clouding your senses and making the feeling of cock stretching you open, his dull head pounding against your cervix all the more unbearable. You doubted he’d be able to talk, even if he’d had anything left to say, but he was still vocal enough. Raspy groans and harsh grunts rung distantly in your ears, his calloused hands groping mercilessly at your chest, your stomach, your waist. Finally, his thumb found its way to your neglected clit, and with less than a full second of stimulation, you were buckling into yourself, clamping down around his cock with a fractured whimper. As humiliated as you were, Toji wasn’t far behind. With something between a moan and a howl, he was cumming inside of you – predictably making no attempt to pull out. Something hot and vile flooded into you, but it was hard to focus on that when you could feel something hard and bloated and wrong press into your entrance. Toji’s breath hitched as he forced his knot into your tight cunt, and whatever hope you had for coming out of this unscathed curled up and died inside of you.

You could feel him slacken on top of you. You almost thought he would collapse like that, leave you locked to him and trapped under his weight, but instead, he nuzzled against the crook of your neck, his fangs ghosting over your throat before sinking into the soft flesh just underneath your jugular. He stayed like that, his knot splitting open your pussy and his teeth buried in your neck, until you lost any hope of him ever pulling away.

Exhausted, you shut your eyes, sinking into yourself. You’d been right, in a way. Toji wasn’t a bad dog.

He was just a terrible terrible man.

[reasonsforhope]

Although dam removals have been happening since 1912, the vast majority have occurred since the mid-2010s, and they have picked up steam since the 2021 Bipartisan Infrastructure Law, which provided funding for such projects. To date, 806 Northeastern dams have come down, with hundreds more in the pipeline. Across the country, 2023 was a watershed year, with a total of 80 dam removals. Says Andrew Fisk, Northeast regional director of the nonprofit American Rivers, “The increasing intensity and frequency of storm events, and the dramatically reduced sizes of our migratory fish populations, are accelerating our efforts.”

Dam removals in the Northeast don’t generate the same media attention as massive takedowns on West Coast rivers, like the Klamath or the Elwha. That’s because most of these structures are comparatively miniscule, built in the 19th century to form ponds and to power grist, textile, paper, saw, and other types of mills as the region developed into an industrial powerhouse.

But as mills became defunct, their dams remained. They may be small to humans, but to the fish that can’t get past them “they’re just as big as a Klamath River dam,” says Maddie Feaster, habitat restoration project manager for the environmental organization Riverkeeper, based in Ossining, New York. From Maryland and Pennsylvania up to Maine, there are 31,213 inventoried dams, more than 4,000 of which sit within the 13,400-square-mile Hudson River watershed alone. For generations they’ve degraded habitat and altered downstream hydrology and sediment flows, creating warm, stagnant, low-oxygen pools that trigger algal blooms and favor invasive species. The dams inhibit fish passage, too, which is why the biologists at the mouth of the Saw Kill transported their glass eels past the first of three Saw Kill dams after counting them...

Jeremy Dietrich, an aquatic ecologist at the New York State Water Resources Institute, monitors dam sites both pre- and post-removal. Environments upstream of an intact dam, he explains, “are dominated by midges, aquatic worms, small crustaceans, organisms you typically might find in a pond.” In 2017 and 2018 assessments of recent Hudson River dam removals, some of which also included riverbank restorations to further enhance habitat for native species, he found improved water quality and more populous communities of beetles, mayflies, and caddisflies, which are “more sensitive to environmental perturbation, and thus used as bioindicators,” he says. “You have this big polarity of ecological conditions, because the barrier has severed the natural connectivity of the system. [After removal], we generally see streams recover to a point where we didn’t even know there was a dam there.”

Pictured: Quassaick Creek flows freely after the removal of the Strooks Felt Dam, Newburgh, New York.

American Rivers estimates that 85 percent of U.S. dams are unnecessary at best and pose risks to public safety at worst, should they collapse and flood downstream communities. The nonprofit has been involved with roughly 1,000 removals across the country, 38 of them since 2018. This effort was boosted by $800 million from the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law. But states will likely need to contribute more of their own funding should the Trump administration claw back unspent money, and organizations involved in dam removal are now scrambling to assess the potential impact to their work.

Enthusiasm for such projects is on the upswing among some dam owners — whether states, municipalities, or private landholders. Pennsylvania alone has taken out more than 390 dams since 1912 — 107 of them between 2015 and 2023 — none higher than 16 feet high. “Individual property owners [say] I own a dam, and my insurance company is telling me I have a liability,” says Fisk. Dams in disrepair may release toxic sediments that potentially threaten both human health and wildlife, and low-head dams, over which water flows continuously, churn up recirculating currents that trap and drown 50 people a year in the U.S.

Numerous studies show that dam removals improve aquatic fish passage, water quality, watershed resilience, and habitat for organisms up the food chain, from insects to otters and eagles. But removals aren’t straightforward. Federal grants, from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration or the Fish and Wildlife Service, favor projects that benefit federally listed species and many river miles. But even the smallest, simplest projects range in cost from $100,000 to $3 million. To qualify for a grant, be it federal or state, an application “has to score well,” says Scott Cuppett, who leads the watershed team at the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation’s Hudson River Estuary Program, which collaborates with nonprofits like Riverkeeper to connect dam owners to technical assistance and money...

All this can be overwhelming for dam owners, which is why stakeholders hope additional research will help loosen up some of the requirements. In 2020, Yellen released a study in which he simulated the removal of the 1,702 dams in the lower Hudson watershed, attempting to determine how much sediment might be released if they came down. He found that “the vast majority of dams don’t really trap much sediment,” he says. That’s good news, since it means sediment released into the Hudson will neither permanently worsen water quality nor build up in places that would smother or otherwise harm underwater vegetation. And it shows that “you would not need to invest a huge amount of time or effort into a [costly] sediment management plan,” Yellen says. It’s “a day’s worth of excavator work to remove some concrete and rock, instead of months of trucking away sand and fill.” ...

On a sunny winter afternoon, Feaster, of Riverkeeper, stands in thick mud beside Quassaick Creek in Newburgh, New York. The Strooks Felt Dam, the first of seven municipally owned dams on the lower reaches of this 18-mile tributary, was demolished with state money in 2020. The second dam, called Holden, is slated to come down in late 2025. Feaster is showing a visitor the third, the Walsh Road Dam, whose removal has yet to be funded. “This was built into a floodplain,” she says, “and when it rains the dam overflows to flood a housing complex just around a bend in the creek.” ...

On the Quassaick, improvements are evident since the Strooks dam came out. American eel and juvenile blue crabs have already moved in. In fact, fish returns can sometimes be observed within minutes of opening a passageway. Says Schmidt, “We’ve had dammed rivers where you’ve been removing the project and when the last piece comes out a fish immediately storms past it.”

There is palpable impatience among environmentalists and dam owners to get even more removals going in the Northeast. To that end, collaborators are working to streamline the process. The Fish and Wildlife Service, for example, has formed an interagency fish passage task force with other federal agencies, including NOAA and FEMA, that have their own interests in dam removals. American Rivers is working with regional partners to develop priority lists of dams whose removals would provide the greatest environmental and safety benefits and open up the most river miles to the most important species. “We’re not going to remove all dams,” [Note: mostly for reasons dealing with invasive species management, etc.] says Schmidt. “But we can be really thoughtful and impactful with the ones that we do choose to remove.”

-via Yale Environment 360, February 4, 2025

[dead-end-draws]

WOF tribe Merchant/Trading booth concepts:

Hey folks! This one was the recent winner of this WOF poll, so here’s my concept art that headcannons trading in Pyrrhia.

Read below cut for close-ups of the individual booths + the thought process / headcannons behind the design choices: 👇

Skywings: The Sky Kingdom’s mountain ranges provide plenty of pasture for raising sheep. As such, Skywing shepherds benefit from traveling to sell their wool, dyes, fabric, and woven tapestries. Many of these merchant tables also include herbs grown exclusively in the mountains, or ibex drinking horns that can be strapped on a dragon’s shoulder & carried in flight.

Along with goods, Skywing merchants may offer sewing services to fix tears, burn marks, or other fabric damage. They are sought out for their quality clothing, and most fabric across Pyrria originated from a Skywing’s talons.

Mudwings: Mudwings’ abundant food & cooking skills are envied almost anywhere in Pyrrhia. Their swamps have fertile soil, responsible for hosting diverse crops which can be purchased as produce at merchant stalls. For those lucky enough to find a traveling Mudwing merchant, the promise of a delicious dish can be whipped up and served at the stall in no time. Along with produce goods, Mudwings sell weaved baskets, spices, and cooking ware.

Sandwings: Sandwing booths offer luxuries of the desert: It’s most common to find accessories such as gold carved jewelry or musical instruments such as drums, lyres, & mandolins for sale. Though, even more sought out across Pyrrhia is Sandwing tattoos/piercings, which are done within the merchant areas. Ink etchings on papyrus paper are stationed outside their tents to showcase designs. All which can be selected, and poked into the skin with a tapping stick and plant dye ink by a trained talon.

Seawings: SeaWings sell a variety of ocean related goods; taking a share in the fish market with Icewings. Outside of food, there are den decorations like driftwood carvings, accessories such as seashell & pearl jewelry, and rope nets weaved by expert Seawing sailors. Some Seawings even sell fishing equipment, canoes, or offer sailor knot tying instructions to curious dragon buyers.

Nightwings: During the war, it was near impossible to find a Nightwing merchant. Most refused to participate in merchant territory, mostly as a way to keep up with their tribe’s mysterious nature.

Though in the more shady, unground parts of the market you can buy from a huge selection of obsidian weaponry, the sharpest in Pyrrhia. No one knew initially how Nightwings smithed so many weapons, or why, until their secret volcano kingdom and the intention to invade the rainforest was discovered. Then forging armor & weapons became clear. Along with a vast armory, for the right price, some Nightwing merchants offer Prophecies & Nightwing Literature (not always guaranteed to always be reliable) and assassin services as well (very reliable).

Rainwings: Though Rainwings haven’t been part of Pyrrhia trading for years, they have a vast hold on dragon medicine. An apothecary of herbs, salves, and remedies are all offered for various ailments due to the rainforest’s abundant resources. Along with medicinal goods, many Rainwings are fruit vendors, promising to any hesitant meat-eating dragons that such an array of flavors isn’t to be missed. Though, their fruit selling pitches often fall flat to most other predominantly meat-eating tribes.

Icewings: Icewings have everything a dragon could need to brace the cold, with a selection of goods only found in the most frigid regions of Pyrrhia. Furs, bone jewelry, and fresh fish (thanks to frost breath) are served on ice. Though Icewings themselves don’t require fur to withstand the cold, it’s considered fashionable and common in upper ranks to wear fur as a status symbol. Since metal is hard to smith without fire & in cold temperatures, fur and bone are more accessible to Icewings for clothing statements.

[luvjunie]

— besos

pairing: e-1610!miles x fem!reader

a/n: this is my gif! it took so long to find this clip + make it into a gif so pls give credit if you use it lol

summary: your makeup leaves kiss imprints all over miles’ face and neck, which you quickly have to figure out how to hide from his mother. wc: 1,033

contains: fluff, teenage romance

word bank: “besos” - kisses, “enamorado” - lover boy, “mijo” - son, “dios mio” - my god

“Hold still…”

Your soft lips pressed testimonies of your love upon the surface of Miles’ smooth skin, your giggles of excitement muffled as you kissed his temple, the apple of his cheek, the tip of his nose, the corner of his lips— anywhere you could easily reach, really.

Steady hands cradled the dip of your back to keep you in your straddled position on his lap, gentle fingers ghosting over the fold of your waistband and one of his eyes pinched closed in preparation for more of your frenzied affection.

“Jeez, you love me love me, huh?” he laughed, his answer presented to him in the way your kisses began to trail along his jaw, then started further down the column of his neck, his pulse gently thrumming against your gloss-tinted lips as the pace of his heart quickened.

His tongue quickly swiped at his chapped lips and he allowed his eyes to fall closed with a light sigh, enjoying himself for just a moment, until the distant sound of pots clinking brought him back to where he really was, in his room, with his mother just a few paces outside, resulting in a gentle warning pat against the curve of your hip.

“Alright, alright, chill.” he chuckled breathily, slowly pulling away from you to lean back on his hands and take you in, drinking in the image of how cute you looked on his lap like this.

He didn’t need a mirror to see what his face looked like, the slightly shocked expression on yours as you covered your laugh with a hand was enough for him to go off of.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?”

You opened your mouth to speak, to tell him it wasn’t, to tell him that his face wasn’t lavished in the remnants of your brown lip gloss and liner— but you couldn’t. He was covered in them, prints of your lips garnished all over his handsome features. Your lips split apart and came back together like a fish out of water, so you simply settled for another stifled snicker and a head nod instead.

“You do know if my mom sees this on my face it’s our asses, right?” he reminded you, and as if on cue, you heard his mother’s voice project from outside, your spine standing straight, just like the hairs on the back of your neck.

“Mijo, food is ready, come eat!”

Stunned eyes locked onto Miles’ for a beat, just to see if they were as wide as yours, or if they held just as much panic— and they did. Without a word spoken you scrambled off his lap faster than you’d even gotten there in the first place, his mirroring of your movements almost causing him to tumble off the bed. The room was thrust into a discord of silenced chaos for a few panicked seconds, your body spinning in two aimless half-circles with disoriented, wafting hands; as if the ridiculous looking movement could actually assist your anxiety frazzled brain in coming up with a plan.

Miles ruffled his sheets, hands frantically splaying around to find anything that would be useful in this moment until a shirt came into your view— a hurried, whisper-shout of his name tearing from your throat to get his attention. You swiftly kicked it up from the floor with your foot, flinging it towards his face and watching as his hand shot out in front of him to catch it not even a second after you’d punted it.

The graphic t-shirt you’d found managed to scrub his face clean of the incriminating evidence, not that you had much time to check the success rate of that as you were rushed out of the room hastily, your boyfriend’s hands plastered against the lower-middle of your back to usher you out the room in large steps, your feet having to shuffle to keep up.

“Dios mio, mile—!“ his mother’s voice fell short when the two of you chaotically stumbled your way into the kitchen, your lips tucked into themselves as you stood at attention, hands politely clasped behind you, while Miles was off to the side, shoulder leaned against the adjacent wall, legs crossed and hands on his hips. Totally not suspicious.

“Oh,” she blinked, giving the two of you a quick once over. The first thing she noticed was her son’s unusual demeanor, his eyes big and brows raised high, an expression he only wore when he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to be. But what really gave it away was the strange distance of a few feet wedged between the both of you. Just over an hour ago you guys had embraced one another in a long hug after he’d opened the door to let you in—right in front of her— and now, you were suddenly acting as if you were scared to even be near each other, like you were nervous to breathe the same air in her presence.

“Mm,” she turned back towards the stove to turn the rice over in the pot, allowing the both of you to exhale a trembled breath of relief, one you realized came prematurely merely milliseconds after it left your lungs. “I think you may have missed one, enamorado.” (lover boy)

Eyes almost blowing from your skull, you swallowed hard and reluctantly shifted your head up towards your boyfriend, who was frozen in place, your gaze dropping down to the slightly smeared gloss and lip liner against the skin of his neck; a painfully visible reminder of your previous tryst.

The knowing smirk that pulled at the corner of his mother’s lips went overlooked, just as Miles let his chin fall to his chest, his arm folding over his torso and his opposite hand slapping over his abashed expression, a defeated sigh sounding from behind it.

“I’ll help you with the plates, mama rio.” you voiced your offer quietly and cleared your throat as you went to slip in beside her, which she obliged to with a light chuckle.

“Sure, sweetie.”

“I’m-“ Miles sighed, scratching the back of his neck timorously and scanning the area for an escape before a tentative finger pointed into the dining room. “I’m gonna go over there.” He decided with a swooped nod, long legs carrying him from a scolding he knew he would have to come back to once you were gone.

- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works onto any other sites!

likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated 💗

[thatdesigirl17]

just this once

bsf!theodore nott x fem!reader

warnings: smoking, slight sexual tension, kissing/making out, google translated italian

requests are open!

It was a cool fall night, and a light breeze was present. The castle glimmered with lights, reflecting upon the waters in front with the stars above shining brightly. Theo and Y/N were standing on the top of the astronomy tower, they came here often, it was their spot to find quiet and have endless conversations without any disturbance. Theo was leaning on the railing, his forearms pressed on the top of the railing and Y/N was standing just right beside him, holding his arm. 

‘Please Theo, just this once, I promise.’, she pleaded to her best friend. Y/N had been pestering Theo to make her try a cigarette for a month now, but it only ever ended with Theo lecturing her about how bad it was for her, even though he was addicted. His addiction was what intrigued Y/N in the first place. She wanted to know what it felt like and why people, her best friend of all, were so addicted to it. Theo wouldn’t have it, he did not want his best friend to get addicted to a bad habit that he was fighting. His protectiveness was endearing and at the same time annoying for Y/N. 

‘You do it all the time, this only makes you a hypocrite, you know.’, she tried. ‘It’s bad for you, cara mia, you know that by now, do you want me to list all the reasons?’, Theo said, sighing. ‘I’ve heard the reasons Theo, they are imprinted onto my brain my now, but please, just once. I just want to know what it feels like.’, she said, her voice laced with pleas. 

Theo stood up a bit straighter, turning his head to look at Y/N. ‘What if you like it and get addicted?’, he asked.

‘I won’t, you won’t let me. We’ve already established that.’, she reasoned. Theo looked at her, still hesitant to give in but she knew he was almost ready. 

‘Please Teddy.’, she pleaded again giving him the doe eyes that she very well knew he couldn’t resist. 

‘You know how to make me agree with your every wish, bella, it’s unfair.’, he said playfully, as he fished out a cigarette and lighter from his pocket. 

‘Thankyou! Thank you!’, Y/N chimed and hugged him.

‘Just this once okay?’, he said with a stern voice as she nodded. He puts the cigarette in his mouth and flicks the lighter open, and with a single click, the flame bursts to life, casting a warm glow across his face. He lit it, taking a drag, the smoke filling his lungs, the taste of nicotine flooding his senses. He exhales slowly, deliberately, the smoke curling around him, dissipating into the night air.

Y/N had seen Theo smoke numerous times, but she still observed him taking in the sight in front of her. Theo was attractive but when he smoked, somehow, in the eyes of Y/N, he felt more attractive. 

He handed the cigarette, ’Alright, bella, place the cigarette and then suck on it, when the smoke goes into your mouth, inhale it and then exhale it.’, he instructed. Y/N nodded and placed the cigarette between her lips while Theo gazed at her intently, her eyes wide with uncertainty, her body tense with anticipation.

She took a drag and immediately coughed, letting all the smoke out. The sight made Theo chuckle slightly, ‘That happens the first time. Do you wanna give it another try?’, he asked. Theo continues to guide her, his hand on her back, reassuring her as she takes another puff of the cigarette. He watches her intently, his eyes never leaving her face, taking in every little detail, every flicker of emotion that crosses her features. As she inhaled, taking another drag it only resulted in her coughing again.

Theo took the cigarette from her hand, ‘Are you okay? Do you need water?’ ‘No, no, I’m fine. God, how do you do it?’, she asked, tears welling up in her eyes due to all the coughing. ‘Easily.’, he smirked taking another drag and smoothly exhaling the smoke, a smug expression on his face. Y/N glared at him, furrowing her brows and pouting slightly, the expression making Theo laugh. 

‘Okay, okay, I have an idea.’, he says, chuckling. ‘What?’, she asked. He smirked as he took another drag from the cigarette, inhaling the smoke, but then without exhaling it, he leaned in closer to her. ‘What are you doing?’, she asked, confused.

Theo’s arm snakes around her waist, holding her in place, making sure the cigarette is away from her body while he places the other on the back of her neck. The growing proximity made Y/N’s heart beat faster as she closed her eyes. Theo’s lips ghosted over hers, passing the smoke to her, as he slowly whispered, while still passing the smoke, ‘Inhale.’ 

Their lips brushed as she inhaled the smoke. Theo pulled back slightly as Y/N opened her eyes and exhaled slowly, without coughing time. Theo noticed her flustered and smirked. ‘Good job, cara mia.’, he praised. He leaned in closer to her ear, his breath hot on her neck. ‘Now you try it.’, he whispered, shifting behind her, trapping her in between his arms with her back against his chest as he handed out the cigarette to her. 

She gulped and nodded as he brought the cigarette to her lips, his free hand resting on her waist, drawing patterns on her skin. He rested his chin on her shoulder. He placed the cigarette between her lips as she inhaled. He removed the cigarette, his blue eyes fixated on her face. She turned to face him, feeling his eyes on her. She met his gaze as she exhaled. ‘Good girl.’, Theo smirked, his voice heavy with an accent that made Y/N’s heart flutter in her chest despite all the times she had heard this phrase from her best friend. 

‘How do you feel?’, he asked taking a drag of the cigarette before throwing the butt down and putting it out by his foot. ‘Go-good. Normal.’, she replied, a bit flustered. ‘It won’t hit unless you take some more drags.’, he explained, making her nod. 

‘Give me another. I want it to hit and have an effect on me.’, she said, turning around to face him, still trapped between his arms. Theo looked at her unsure of what to do, but he knew she won't give up and he wouldn’t be able to say to her. He fished out another cigarette from his pockets, lit it and handed it to her. ‘This is it, bella.’, he said as she took the cigarette from his hands. 

He watched her as she smoked the cigarette, his eyes drinking in the sight of her, the way the moonlight cast a soft glow across her features. He can see the way the smoke curls around them. He leans in closer, his shoulder brushing against hers, his body seeking the warmth, the closeness of hers. The night air is cool against his skin, but the heat of her body, the warmth of her presence, chases away the chill. She looks up at him, meeting his gaze. The scent of his cologne and the smoke made her head dizzy. He gently takes the cigarette from her hands and takes a drag, savouring the flavour as he exhales, the smoke drifting away with the wind. ‘Did it hit yet?’, he asked, his voice low. 

‘I guess.’, she says, a bit nervously. He smiles softly, taking another drag. ‘Theo?’, she asks, her voice low. ‘Yes, bella?’, he asked looking down at her. ‘Um, can you do the smoke pass thing again? It felt nice.’, she asks, her voice soft. ‘Of course.’, he smirks as he takes a longer drag and inhales, before leaning even closer. He reaches till his lips brush against hers and then exhales slowly. Y/N feels lightheaded, the nicotine finally taking its effect, she breathes heavily at their closeness. She inhales the smoke, the nicotine taking its toll as she exhales. Noticing that Theo is still there, as their lips barely touch each other, she closes the distance, kissing him. 

Theo’s body tenses, her actions take him by surprise, but he soon returns the kiss, pulling her closer by her waist. He breaks the kiss abruptly, licking his lips, ‘This isn’t right, you’re high.’ 

‘No, no, I want this, Theo. I want you.’, she says, her eyes fixated upon his lips as she looks up at him. ‘You’re high, cara mia, not in your senses.’, he reasons. ‘The only thing this gives me is the nerve to do this, Teddy.’, she says, ‘Please, I have wanted you for a long time now.’ 

He looks into her eyes for any uncertainty but finds none. ‘Cazzo, you’re gonna be the death of me.’,  he says before crashing his lips onto hers again, kissing her hungrily. His hands move down to her hips, pulling her closer, wanting to feel all of her against him. She moans into the kiss as he pulls her closer, taking the opportunity to deepen the kiss. Her hands run through his soft curls, pulling and tugging at them, the action making him groan and sending a shiver down his spine. 

They pant, breathless from the kiss as they pull away. Y/N rests her head on the base of his neck as he places a soft kiss on her forehead, chuckling he says ‘Maybe you should smoke more often.’, making her giggle as well. 

[welty4ng]

TEAR MY WORLD APART!

call transcript; “adapting is never easy. jiaoqiu supposes he only tolerates it because you’re with him”

cw; spoilers for the current quest !!! f!reader, NSFW (mdni) !! hurt/comfort, fingering (soft sex tbh), not proofread, ugh jiaoqiu i love you so much, fic below the cut, 4.7k words

When Jiaoqiu first returns home, there’s a heavy weight in his chest.

It felt horribly uncomfortable, having Moze walk him all the way from the docks to his house. It felt even worse to have his companion fish his keys from his pockets.

In his mind’s eye, he knows where everything is. He knows where you keep your plants and how to avoid running into them; still, he tips one over, the crunch of dirt beneath his feet ringing sickeningly in his ears. He knows where every corner of his house is; yet, he hits his shoulder when he rounds a corner a little too soon.

Shamefully, it takes him longer than he’d like to find someplace to sit. He’d never thought it to be so humiliating, to realize he spent so many years seeing the layout to his own home without memorizing it.

He’s unsure for how long he sits, the silence deafening and the darkness blinding. There’s a gnawing, ever-growing pit in his stomach at the realization that this might very well be the rest of his life. A shiver runs down his spine. He doesn’t think he’ll enjoy having his senses heightened any more than they already were.

Jiaoqiu jolts when he hears the front door open, his ears perking up. The sound of your footsteps reaches his ears before you call out his name, your voice gentler than he’s ever heard it.

“Hey,” you say, hushed. Jiaoqiu shudders when your hand finds his knee, trying to soothe him. His hands ball into fists on his lap.

“Hey,” he echoes, slightly strained. The weight in his chest grows heavier when you thumb at his knee. It’s horrifying, how he can practically picture the pity on your face — he’d never thought he’d be at the receiving end of it.

“General Feixaio told me what happened,” you whisper. Jiaoqiu’s ears twitch when you cup his face and he immediately nestles into your palm. Your thumb is gentle against his skin, caressing his cheek with the utmost of care. “I’m so sorry, love.”

There’s a lump in his throat, a million words on the tip of his tongue — ‘I’m okay. I’ll be fine. It’s nothing serious. I just need to adapt.’

All that he musters is a quiet, shaky, “I want to see you.”

Jiaoqiu wonders if you look as broken as he sounds.

Being molded into a homebody is not unideal, but Jiaoqiu has far too much to do.

He wonders if that’s why Feixiao sent Moze to inform him of the leave of absence he’d been granted.

It should be welcome. It is, to an extent, when guilt doesn’t chip away at his conscience; when he doesn’t feel like he’s a burden—

The clatter of pots makes him jump, his tail puffing up before matting back down. He exhales, low and unsteady as you call out a sheepish, “Sorry.”

Jiaoqiu doesn’t think he can complain. Not when you’ve carved out time from your schedule to look after him — to help him adjust, or whatever bullshit Moze claimed Feixiao had said. So he’ll endure the ringing in his ears when something is just a little too loud, endure the tangy, bitter smell of something burning, and offer a patient smile, followed by a soft, “It’s okay.”

Because he knows you’re trying.

Cooking was never your thing. He’d never let it be, because, why would he ever let you dirty your hands when he could do it instead?

Part of himself feels guilty that you’ve been forced into a myriad of things that fell under his attention. It’s an ever-growing sense of uselessness that weighs on his chest, burrowing deeper with every ‘tap’ of the knife on the cutting board.

He presses his back against the wall, trying to suppress the familiar urge to take over the cooking for you. A knot forms in his throat when he hears you softly hiss, his eyes yearning to open and treat whatever wound you must’ve gotten.

When a soft rush of water reaches his ears, he inches off the wall just enough, taking a step toward the noise. It feels slightly disorienting, trying to guide himself simply through hearing. Still, he tries, awkwardly stumbling in your direction with an outstretched hand.

A shaky exhale leaves his lips when he touches your shoulder, his tail awkwardly flicking to the side when you jolt at the contact.

“Let me help,” he whispers, his fingers instinctively squeezing your shoulder. There’s something so horrid about being able to hear your breaths before you even speak. He loathes how clear he can hear your breath falter as you hesitate.

“Jiaoqiu, you—”

“Please.” He’s tired of feeling useless. He has enough to deal with, now that his eyesight is gone indefinitely. He wants to help — to be of use, even if it’s just a little.

The weight in his stomach sinks deeper when you gingerly clutch his wrist. For a moment, he expects you to drop his hand and lead him back to the spot on the wall he’s claimed as his own. Instead, you bring his hand up to your face, letting his knuckles brush against your skin.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” you murmur, gentle as you press a kiss to the back of his hand. Jiaoqiu wonders what expression you’re making; wonders if it’s pity or sympathy.

He takes a step closer, his front bumping against yours before his free hand shoots out to hold onto the edge of the counter for balance. “Let me do something, at least,” he pleads, a vague hint of desperation lacing his words.

Your breaths fan his face, tickling his skin in a way that has his tail swaying.

“Please,” he whispers, trying to keep his voice from wavering.

There’s a brief moment of hesitance before you ask, “What do you want to do?”

Jiaoqiu’s heart hammers in his chest, a ticklish sort of hope flooding his being. His hand trembles against your face, softly squeezing your own when you grasp it.

“Anything,” he breathes out. “It doesn’t have to be cooking or cleaning or — just let me do anything.”

When your grip on his hand falters, he grasps it tighter, resting them on your cheek. The smell of something burnt fills his senses, but he can’t find it in himself to care; not when he can feel the faint warmth of your skin. “I want to be of use to you.”

His ears twitch when you sigh, his hand trembling lightly against your face. He can imagine the expression you’re making — pursed lips and furrowed brows, deep in thought. Still, he yearns to see it.

“You can help me stir the pot,” you offer, a hint of hesitance to your voice.

The weight in his chest lightens just a little, his fingers tightening around your own in a light squeeze. “Alright.”

It’s a shred of normalcy, he supposes; even if he’s just swirling a ladle. For a moment, it reminds him of a simpler time, back when he was younger and still learning to fend for himself. The soft ‘tap’ of the knife against the cutting board fills his ears, accompanied by your faint humming.

Will you let him keep helping you? Jiaoqiu can’t help but wonder. Would you let him stop being a burden? Do you even think of him as a burden? He hopes — prays — you don’t. He hopes you let him stay by your side, even if all he can do is rot.

It’s all he wants.

So, when you lead him to your dining table, trying to distract him from the scent of burnt meat, he’ll entertain you. He’ll keep his complaints to himself, even if the soup is far too salty; the noodles are a little too undercooked; and the cubed beef is a bit too charred.

You’re both trying, he reminds himself. Perhaps that’s why he can’t find it in himself to care much when he can hear the ‘snap’ of a noodle between his molars. There’s a slight tingle in his tongue by the time he’s done eating.

Still, Jiaoqiu doesn’t complain. Instead, he smiles, softening when your hand grasps his own beneath the table, squeezing twice in a comforting gesture.

“Thank you,” he whispers, hushed. When your breath hitches, a lump forms in his chest. Quickly, he adds, “For everything.”

For a moment, he supposes the only good thing about being blind is that he doesn’t have to see you cry. Though, he supposes it’s worse, hearing you hold back from it — hearing you struggle to remain composed.

When he opens his arms, you rush into him, leaving your chair behind and opting to perch in his lap — just like you’d always done. He holds you closer, instinctively; though, he rubs at your back with hesitance, almost trying to map out the length of your back.

He shudders when you wet the side of his neck. It feels more present, now that his world is shrouded in pitch black. Your cries sound louder, even when quiet and muffled by his skin.

“I’m sorry.” Jiaoqiu’s unsure if the apology is his or yours, the weight growing tenfold in his chest and ringing in his ears.

He can’t tell if the sobs are still yours, either.

Jiaoqiu learns to rise when you do. His routine morphs into your own, despite your insistence that he rest longer.

Staying in bed doesn’t feel the same without you, he’d argued. You were quick to relent after that.

His feet drag on the floor behind yours, his grip tight around the back of your nightshirt. There’s a dull ache in his head. He bumps into you when you stop, a quick apology tumbling from his lips before he can stop it.

When the sound of rushing water reaches his ears, they twitch, recognizing the familiarity. His hands perch on the edge of the counter, letting go of your clothes. It never takes long for him to hear the soft rustle of fabric falling onto the floor. It never takes long for him to fumble with his buttons, either, before you come to his aid.

“Will you help me wash my hair again?” he asks, quiet as you ease the fabric off his shoulders.

“If you want me to,” you reply, gentle as you help him out of his pants. When your fingers brush against his lower abdomen, he shivers, his tail puffing up as he sucks in a sharp inhale.

Jiaoqiu’s hand leaves the counter, moving to cup your cheek in a practiced (albeit clumsy) movement. Part of himself still feels like a fumbling fool when you move his hand just a little lower, correcting the placement. Still, you never mention it.

A voice in the back of his head tells him he should reject your offer for help — tells him he’s been more than enough of a burden by making you spend more time ensuring he’s clean than you do yourself. Then, a gentler, kinder voice reminds him you’d expressed your satisfaction at being able to aid him. Pride never stands a chance, when it comes to your delight; he realized this soon after meeting you.

So, he lets his finger brush against the apple of your cheek, his voice softening as he says, “I do.”

It’s become almost instinctive, following you. There’s always a certain gentleness with which you hold his hands, guiding him forward as you step into the shower. He hears the quiet scuff of a stool (your insistence, not his) being dragged across the tiles. Your hands remain gentle as you guide him to sit.

“Tell me if I scrub too hard, okay?” The statement is almost unnecessary, truly. You’ve never once treated him with something other than overwhelming delicateness — like he’s made of porcelain. Jiaoqiu considered himself tough, before losing his eyesight. He thinks that shell was stripped from him alongside his vision. He wonders if you know it, too — wonders if that’s why you touch him like he’s seconds away from breaking beneath your touch.

Still, all he says is, “Okay.” Then, after a moment, “Thank you.”

A lump forms in his throat at the beat of silence, his heart hammering in his chest. Aeons, he wants to see your expression — he needs it so desperately. It’s become hard to tell whether he says the right thing or not. Sometimes, he wonders if he oversteps. There are a million words at the tip of his tongue, all of them longing to spill out.

Something soft presses against his forehead, gentle and so, so soft. Two hands cup his jaw, holding him in place before drawing him in. His arms wrap around your middle almost instinctively, his face burrowing into your chest.

“I want to see you,” he whispers, his words muffled by your skin.

Your lips press against the top of his head, tender. Jiaoqiu melts when you cup the back of his head, holding him in place. He wonders if you realize how soothing your heartbeat is to him, currently. Your fingers weave through peachy strands, washing out the shampoo suds from his hair.

“I know,” you reply, your voice barely audible. “We’ll figure it out, love.”

A soft noise rumbles in the back of his throat, his ears twitching and tickling your skin. “Promise?”

“Promise,” you whisper, kissing the top of his head one last time.

For a moment, something akin to hope blossoms in his chest. It’s the first time he’s felt it, since losing his vision, Jiaoqiu notes.

Normal still feels out of place, though not as much anymore. It’s become a faint, lingering feeling in the back of his mind.

There’s still a vague sense of discomfort at being surrounded by darkness constantly. Jiaoqiu supposes it’s only through the habit of touching that he reminds himself he’s not alone.

He’s only grateful you indulge him, even if it must be a bother to have him hovering and pestering just to stick to you.

The streets of the Yaoqing — have they ever been this noisy? Jiaoqiu can’t tell. It’s uncomfortable, how loudly everything rings in his ears. He thinks he would rather trade the boisterous noise for the bright, vivid colors he used to complain about.

“We’ll head home soon,” you reassure, squeezing his hand as tight as you can. For a moment, he wonders if his distress is palpable (he concludes that, for you, it must be).

“You shouldn’t rush,” he replies, his words trailing off into a quick apology when someone bumps into his shoulder. His hand squeezes yours — the mere thought of separating from you makes his heartbeat spike in anxiety. Jiaoqiu softly clears his throat, quickly adding, “I’m fine, really.”

Neither of you seem to believe it, though you don’t call him out on the lie. Instead, you slow your pace even more to loop your arm with his.

“I was thinking,” you start, pulling him just a little closer to you as you walk, “We could get the ingredients for those noodles you like.”

Jiaoqiu hums, trying to ignore the way the corners of his lips curl up. “That would be nice,” he says, trying to keep his steps matched to yours.

“You could help me make them,” you offer, gently tugging him closer before someone brushes against his arm.

His steps falter for a moment. When he takes a second too long to reply, you rush to add, “Only if you want to.”

A lump forms in his throat, agreement sitting on the tip of his tongue. All he does is exhale. His heart hammers in his chest, thundering loud in his ears. You’re looking at him — he doesn’t need his vision to tell. A hushed, barely audible whisper leaves his lips when you call his name.

“Is it still too soon?” you ask, a hint of worry in your voice. Your hold on him tightens just a little. “I-I figured, maybe it had been long enough to try and ease you back into things you used to do. We can just pretend I didn’t say any—”

“I want to,” Jiaoqiu says, his voice wavering. He isn’t sure when his breath picked up, but he can feel his chest heaving. His tail lightly sways when you place your hand above his own, thumbing at his knuckles.

“Okay.” Your voice feels as soft as your touch. It tickles his nerves, sending a flutter through the pit of his stomach and down to his core.

He leans down, pressing his forehead to yours (a jolt of satisfaction in his chest at the lack of clumsiness). His ears twitch when the pad of your thumb lightly presses into his knuckle. 

“Okay,” he echoes, trying to match your tone. Jiaoqiu softens, gently rubbing his forehead against your own.

Warmth blooms in his chest when you whisper. The market’s ruckus feels like white noise as your words ring in his ears. Like instinct, his lips part before replying in earnest. “I love you, too.”

He wonders if it’s your face that’s burning up, or if it’s his.

It pains him a little, just how long it’s taken him to ask this of you.

Jiaoqiu feels you shift beneath him, adjusting your position before wrapping your legs around his waist again. He softly exhales, tracing the slope of your cheek with the utmost of care. His heart hammers away in his chest, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Don’t move,” he whispers, breathless as he pokes at the fat of your cheek. When you sigh, he lets himself cup your face, the pad of his thumb lightly pressing into the hollow beneath your eye.

“How much longer are you going to do this for?” you ask, curiosity lacing your voice. Jiaoqiu softens, his tail swaying when you lean into his touch.

“Until I’m sure I’ve memorized everything.”

“I thought you already knew my face by heart?” you reply. The corners of his lips curl up into a smile when he hears yours. He gently pinches your cheek, drawing a soft chuckle from your lips.

“I do,” he says, loud enough so it’s meant for your ears only. “I just want to make sure I know it, deep in my soul.”

A soft hum leaves his lips when you squeeze his waist. His hand moves, his thumb tracing the shell of your ear.

“How smooth,” you mumble, brushing a few peachy strands away from his face.

“I want to make sure it’s all like I remember,” he murmurs, complying when you pull him up with your legs. Jiaoqiu’s ears twitch when his nose bumps against yours, a breathless chuckle slipping past his lips.

His hand trails down, his thumb brushing your lower lip. When you gently kiss the digit, his breath hitches. He cups your jaw, trying to find an angle. You simply follow his lead, letting him lead.

He thumbs at the corner of your lips, your breath fanning against his skin. His mouth presses against yours in the softest — faintest — of kisses. When you sigh, he lets himself mold against you. His tongue traces the seam of your lips, his tail swaying when you grant him access.

There’s a hint of desperation behind his actions. Jiaoqiu wonders if you can tell, by the way his tongue licks at your mouth — almost like he’s trying to memorize the way you taste.

He barely gives you any reprieve, breaking the kiss to catch the slightest of breaths before he’s attached to your lips once more. When his name leaves your lips between kisses, heat pools in his stomach. It’s a feeling he’d thought dormant since he’d lost his sight.

Jiaoqiu doesn’t think he’d mind its resurgence — not after the way you part with a whined gasp, struggling to catch your breath. His lips press against the corner of your mouth, then lower, until he’s kissing a trail down to the spot beneath your jaw.

When you struggle to hold back a moan, heat shoots through his veins. Your hands find the back of his head, your fingers tangling in peachy strands. He complies when you help him up, cupping his face before capturing his lips with your own.

For a moment, Jiaoqiu wonders if you taste sweeter than he remembers.

“Guide me.”

“Hm?”

A soft, huffed chuckle escapes Jiaoqiu’s lips. His hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb applying a delicate pressure beneath your eye. He feels you shift on the bed, your legs tangling with his own.

“Guide me,” he repeats, his ears twitching when you yawn. A gentle noise rumbles in his chest, his body pressing closer to yours and his hand moving lower to let his thumb press against the corner of your mouth. Then, he leans down, his lips replacing the digit.

Heat pools in his stomach at the sigh you let out. His tail lightly sways, the ends puffing out when he nips at your lower lip. “You’ve been patient for long enough,” he murmurs, gently ghosting a kiss over your lips.

“Jiaoqiu—”

“No excuses,” he says, “Please.”

After a light kiss, he adds, “Let me do this for you.”

For a moment, he wonders if it’s your heartbeat he hears, instead of his own. He lets his hand leave your face to rest on the underside of your breast, relishing how your breaths stutter.

“You’ve done more than enough for me,” Jiaoqiu reasons, his voice tender as he moves his face closer to the crook of your neck. “I ought to express my gratitude,” he whispers, noting how you shudder as his breath tickles your skin. He presses his lips against the underside of your jaw — right at the spot he knows makes your breath hitch and your thighs clench. “Shouldn’t I?”

“I didn’t do anything with the intention of getting something in return,” you say. He catches on to the quiver to your tone when his ears twitch. His teeth graze your jaw, soft and experimental as he thumbs at the lower part of your breast.

“Isn’t that reason enough to accept my gratitude with open arms, then?”

You shudder, your hand moving to perch on his shoulder when he trails kisses down to your collarbone. “We both know what your gratitude entails, Jiaoqiu.”

He softly clicks his tongue, letting his canines graze against your skin. The hand on your chest inches upward, moving until his thumb reaches your pert nipple. “Even more reason for you to accept, hm?”

His touch softens when you sigh.

“Isn’t it a little too soon—?”

“I think I should be the one to decide that,” Jiaoqiu mumbles. He presses a soft kiss to your collarbone. 

There’s a slight hesitance to your actions — how you seem to mull over his words. His tail sways, lightly rubbing against the bedsheets as your fingers run through his locks.

“Still, I—” your breath catches, your words interrupted by a wanton whine when delicately rolls your nipple between his fingers. 

Heat shoots through his nerves, fueling the fire in his stomach as he pictures your expression — your face all scrunched up, but your lips parted as you pant. Jiaoqiu slows the barrage of kisses on your skin, softy exhaling.

He wants to see it, so, so desperately.

He wants to feel and touch and see. His ears twitch when you sigh his name, breathless. A soft growl rumbles in his chest in response before he presses an open-mouthed kiss on your collarbone.

“Let me take care of you,” he quietly pleads. “You shouldn’t have to suppress your own needs for my own.”

“I’m not—”

Jiaoqiu nips at your collarbone to cut off your words, his tongue gently soothing the spot. “Don’t lie to me,” he murmurs, his words slightly muffled by your skin. “Not when I hear clearer than I ever could.”

Your grip on his hair falters, your breath hitching. He wonders what expression you wear — are you flustered or taken aback? Or is it something entirely different? 

“Just because I’m blind doesn’t mean I can’t touch you like I used to,” he breathes out, gently rolling your nipple between his fingers. You tug on his hair, your breaths uneven. His lips trail kisses along the expanse of your collarbone. “You just need to guide me.”

His fingers leave your nipple, drawing a soft whine from your lips as he trails them down to your hip.

“It’s about time you replace your fingers with my own, after all,” he rasps, kissing a path back up to your jaw, “Isn’t it?”

His ears twitch when a strained whimper slips past your lips. He nips at your skin before pressing a feather-light kiss on the spot. Heat floods the pit of his stomach when you nod against his head, your hand resting atop the one on your hip.

“You’ve been more than patient, love,” Jiaoqiu whispers, his tail twitching against the sheets as you help his hand down between your thighs. He shudders an exhale, his fingers inquisitive as they search for your clit. His breaths become heavy, fanning against your jaw in a way so ticklish that your thighs instinctively press together.

A choked whine leaves your lips, your fingers curling in his hair. “‘s n-nothing,” you murmur, your voice trembling.

He gently clicks his tongue, his thumb pressing against you once he finds your bud. “It’s not ‘nothing,’” he replies, rubbing his nose along your jaw as he begins to circle your clit. “It’s never easy to care for a patient.”

You mewl, lightly jolting when his index finger prods around in search of your entrance. “W-wait,” you stammer, your hand moving to aid his own. His tail thumps faintly against the bed when his fingertips ghost above your folds.

“Here we go,” he whispers, unable to keep the elation from his voice. For a moment, he wonders if you’ve realized the selfish intentions behind his idea to thank you.

Though, he’s sure that even if you have, you probably don’t mind. Jiaoqiu knows how tired you must be from fingering yourself in his stead. Your fingers were never as good as his at bringing you pleasure, after all.

The corners of his lips curl up into a small smirk, his finger pumping in and out of you with practiced ease. “That’s nice, isn’t it, love?” he asks, his voice a soft coo.

“M-mhm,” you shakily hum, slowly rocking your hips against his digit to match his pace.

“Your sweet cunt just needed my fingers, didn’t it?”

He can’t hold back the purr in the back of his throat when you nod, your fingers fisting his peachy strands when he pushes a second finger into your folds.

“N-needed them s-so bad—!” you cry, your voice cracking. Your free hand grasps at his forearm, your breath quick and uneven pants. “‘s never the same when t-they’re mine…”

Jiaoqiu gently shushes you, peppering kisses against the underside of your jaw. “I know, love,” he coos, his voice full of sympathy. “I’ll take care of it for you.”

You moan, your breath hitching as your walls flutter around his fingers. When they curl, you cry, your hips desperately rocking against his hand. “J-Jiaoqiu—”

“Close already?” he asks, though he fails to hide the smile from his voice. You huff and he chuckles, a sense of satisfaction settling in his gut. How long has it been since he’s felt that — felt anything other than a weight in his chest?

Jiaoqiu can’t be bothered to wonder. Not when your cunt spasms around his fingers, your broken cries and moans rising in volume the more he curls his digits against the spongy spot in your folds.

“That’s it, love,” he breathes out, his voice a heavy rasp. “Let go for me.”

When you cry, he can only picture the expression on your face — can only imagine you look just like you’ve always done when you cum. His chest aches for just a moment, then lightens when you mewl his name.

“T-thank you,” you whisper, your words slightly slurred. Jiaoqiu softens when you kiss the top of his head. 

“I should be the one thanking you,” he replies, hushed. He nuzzles into you, slowly pulling his fingers out of your cunt. His chest rises and falls, weightless for the first time in weeks. “For everything.”

[milla-frenchy]

Home

3k7 | Marcus Acacius x fem reader | ao3 | masterlist

Summary: Acacius returns from Numidia several months after his departure, and comes back to his wife

Warnings: 18+ mdni. fluff, smut, established relationship, Acacius and reader are married and deeply in love, Acacius is devoted to his wife (he’s soft, protective, caring and slightly possessive), oral (m/f), oil massages, size kink, piv, creampie. No age specified

a/n:  this fic is just soft and sweet and I hope it will bring comfort to those who need it. This is my love letter to Acacius, basically, after watching Gladiator 2 (no spoilers towards the movie). I love this character so much. I did some research but I'm not an expert on ancient Rome at all.

Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for always holding my hand and for beta-ing, @joelmillerisapunk for cheering me up, @iamasaddie for being a sunshine- 🫶💓 dividers @saradika-graphics 🙏

You felt his presence before he even spoke. 

You knew he was here, because all your worries, all the tension in your body, dissipated instantly. All the weight accumulated during those last months was removed from your shoulders, allowing your body to relax and open up.

"My lady..," you heard. 

You stood up and faced him, turning away from the fish pond. You murmured his name then hurried towards him to snuggle against his broad, protective chest, where nothing bad could reach you. His arms surrounded you, as his lips kissed your forehead and your hands slid along his waist to his back. The warmth radiated from him, warming your entire being, body and soul.

"You are here, my love," you whispered, feeling tears well up in your eyes. You had been holding them back for so long. Too long. Because you didn't want to seem weak, and because you didn't want to let your brain swallow you up in its darkness.

But now Acacius was here, and you could allow your fragility to consume you for a moment,  to be your true self, letting your emotions overwhelm you. Because you knew that he would want to absorb them for you, to protect you. To be your man.

"I'm finally here. I missed you, you have no idea. You were always in my thoughts, my beloved.”

You hugged each other tighter, and you buried your face in his chest, rubbing against him, like a cat that marks its territory with its scent. 

"I missed you too, Acacius," you replied, finally raising your face to his, staring into those soft brown eyes that you missed so much. The eyes of your husband who had returned from Numidia. Returned victorious, as always, but the worry never left you when he was gone. The intrusive thoughts that made you fear that he wouldn’t come back to you, that he had perished. Or worse, taken prisoner. The highest representative of the Roman Empire on the battlefield, the general of Rome, gods only knew what they would do to him.

Caressing his cheek with your thumb, you chased away those dark thoughts to let yourself enjoy the present. Your husband, your love was there. You brushed his wrinkles, as you took the time to admire his slightly grayer curls, before running your fingers through them.

"You are even more beautiful than when I left," he said in a low, calm voice. You smiled when you heard him, moved by his love for you that was radiating from him. Love that had never wavered during your marriage. He always came back to you, as soon as he had dealt with the burdens placed upon him by the emperors he hated.

"Let me feed you, my love," you said. "And bathe you."

You walked toward the caldarium, his arm around your shoulder, yours around his waist, your body pressed against his. You were holding each other close as you were walking, it had been so long since he left for Africa nova.

“I cleaned myself before I went to the coliseum. You don’t have to, you know?”

“I know. But I love to do it, even if it’s only symbolic.”

He smiled warmly and saw you melt under his stare, then pressed a kiss on your temple to forget the fast beating of his own heart.

You undressed him slowly, layer by layer. Taking the time to place your hands on his chest before you would remove the last fabric, to feel his torso rise under your fingers. To process the fact that he was really back with you. He watched you roam his chest, shoulders, arms along his body, face lowered towards you. Smiling, patient. Soothed. 

Once you managed to stop staring at his skin, his muscles, the way his body reacted to your touch, you tilted your head up to meet his eyes. You both smiled, happy and relieved to finally find each other again. You always marveled at his softness, that side of him only you knew. 

Your fingers ran along his skin, and you frowned at each new wound you felt under your digits.

“You have so many new scars,” you said with a trembling voice. “I thank the gods for bringing you back to me.” 

“Thank the soldiers, my love, they kept me alive,” he replied, brushing your cheek with his thumb. He had great respect for his men, treated them well, and had their complete trust. Tears appeared in your eyes again, and he gently took your chin between his fingers to lift your face up to him.

“I’m here now,” he said, his voice still low and calm. He knew you needed to be reassured, that meeting again always made his next departures more difficult, for both of you. He knew you were already anticipating them.

“I know,” you stammered. “I know. I just missed you a lot.” You tried to push aside the worries that were already trying to infiltrate your mind.

“I know, and I’m sorry about that, I wish I never had to leave. But I have great news: I won't have to go for now. I told the emperors that I wanted to rest and spend time with my wife. Darius will lead the next battle, he's ready.”

“This is such great news, Acacius!” you said, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and nestling your face in his neck. “I'm so relieved.”

He held you against him, before cupping your cheeks in his hands and resting his forehead against yours.

You moved slightly aside to pull off the last layer of clothing, freeing his half-hard cock. You thought about it so often when he was away as your fingers were buried inside you.

You covered him in oil and massaged his shoulders to relieve his physical tension. Then his chest, arms, palms and belly, taking your time. Gently, your fingers worked his skin, finding their favorite spots and his. Lingering there.

Finally, you faced him and took his shaft in hand, before jerking him off gently under the pretext of applying the oil, but you both felt the need grow.

You then asked him to sit in the warm water, and got undressed. The expression in his eyes changed from softness to eagerness and desire while he was watching you. 

Fully hard, he stood up when you approached the bath, holding out his hand to accompany you down the steps.

“Sit on me,” he murmured in your ear, his beard brushing your skin. You straddled him, placing your hands on his cheeks before playing with his curls. You leaned down and finally kissed him, tasting his warm, soft, luscious lips. You both moaned and it made you smile, as you felt yourself mesmerized by him being finally there, with you. 

He caressed your lips with his tongue, then slid it between them. Your tongues found each other, for the first time in months, and you felt dizzy, savoring him again. His hands roamed your back, squeezed your skin sometimes, while your kiss was only growing more feral and needy. Unable to wait any longer, you grabbed his cock and nestled it at your entrance, making him growl from the depth of his chest.

“Slowly,” he stammered. “No foreplay… don’t hurt yourself.”

“Can’t promise it,” you smiled. It was almost a lie, both of you knew it, you couldn’t take him slowly, your need to feel him being too strong. You sank onto his shaft with your arms resting on his broad shoulders, and you had to bite him slightly when the fat head of his cock began spreading you wide open, until you welcomed him fully, leaving both of you breathless for a second.

“That wasn’t exactly slow,” he laughed once he caught his breath, his hand against the back of your neck as you peppered his collarbone with kisses, your cunt full of him.

“Couldn’t wait,” you breathed and kept kissing him, slowly moving up and down his shaft, mixing your moans with his, your forehead against his. Your breaths mingled, similar in their urgency.

“I missed you. I missed you,” you repeated, while one of his hands was caressing your back, the other resting on your hip to accompany your movements, but sometimes pushing you slightly more down his cock.

“Me too, my love. Finally feeling you like that, wrapped around my cock, is almost unreal after all that time. But I won’t last, I’m sorry,” he said in a breathless voice. “It’s been too long since I felt the warmth of your cunt. Only my hand could give me a release when thoughts about you invaded my mind.”

“Now I’m here. Use me. Come,” you added, rubbing yourself against his lower stomach, knowing you would come soon too.

He held you tight in his arms, setting his pace, fast, powerful, to the point that the water overflowed from the bath with every move. He chased his orgasm, growling in your ear, his body surrounding yours, and you let him use you willingly until his grunts turned into moans and he froze, coming inside you. You pulsed on his shaft just after, milking his cock, feeling him shudder inside you.

You let him catch his breath and his wits before facing him, your hands on his cheeks, and covered his lips, cheeks, forehead with kisses. Already thinking about the moment you would go to your bedroom, and finally take the time to rediscover each other.

Washed, you had dinner, and you told him what happened during his absence. Life in Rome, the dream of Marcus Aurelius long forgotten. The emperors were hated by the subjects, and the cruel games were still allowed.

His worry was growing as he was listening to you. Each time he left, he was afraid a revolt would take place and he wouldn’t be there to protect you. 

He asked you the question that had been burning his lips since his return, but that he was holding back, afraid of your answer.

“Did… did anyone hurt you while I was away?” he asked, eyes lowered to the ground, your hands in his. Then finally forcing himself to look at you and hear your answer.

“No, Acacius,” you answered quickly, eager to remove that weight from his shoulders and his heart. “Nothing happened to me, don’t worry.” You knew that he would lose his mind if someone hurt you, just like those who had hurt you would lose their heads. 

He kissed your hands when he heard you, keeping them between his, brushing them with his thumbs.

“I couldn't stand it if that happened,” he added, voice shaking.

“I know, my love. But the guards protect me. The ones you chose, and trust completely. I am safe.”

He nodded, even though both of you knew he would never be calm during his absences.

Once fed, he told you about the new conquests. You felt the weariness on his shoulders and in his eyes. His anger. The emperors were making him lose patience, every day a little more.

“Enough about this,” he said finally. “I don't want my return to be full of sadness and bitterness. I saw how tense your body is, I will help you relax with some oil, like you did to me.”

“Acacius… you need to rest after these last few months. Not to take care of me,” you replied softly.

“I am your husband,” he said gently but firmly, moving closer to you until he took your hand in his and kissed it. “Your man. There’s nothing else that I want to do more.” You looked at him and smiled.

Once in the bedroom, he asked you to undress and lie down naked on your stomach. He poured some oil in his hands, and rubbed them together. He didn't take his eyes off you until you were on the bed. "You're so beautiful," he said. “I’m gonna take care of you. I missed it.”

He started by massaging your neck, with perfect pressure. Hands flat, he pressed his thumbs against each tense spot, helping to release the tension step by step. You felt your muscles relax at his touch, from your neck to your shoulders. Once satisfied with the way your body responded to his movements, he coated his hands with oil again, then he took care of your lower back. Your pelvis had been stuck for weeks, and you knew that he would do wonders, as always. That the next day, when you woke up, it would be free of its tensions.

“Do you feel better?” he asked, kissing your shoulder, his moustache brushing your skin.

“Better than ever. Thank you, my love.”

“Perfect. Turn around now, please." You rolled onto your back, and you saw his eyes linger on your breasts for a few seconds, nipples hard after his hands on you.

“Well, General?” you chuckled.

“Mmm. I was staring, wasn’t I? I missed them too,” he confessed, blushing slightly, which was cute, coming from him.

He massaged your arms then your thighs, one by one, down to your ankles and feet, careful not to touch your breasts or even look at them, as if that would end the session prematurely. You didn't take your eyes off him, watching his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, his tongue brushing his lip, his teeth nibbling on it.

Finally, you saw his gaze fixed on your pussy, something he had also avoided until then. The candlelight certainly didn’t allow him to see, but he probably knew you were flowing down to the bed. His hand slid from your ankle to your thigh, then brushed your folds before slipping between them, making you whine, as you heard the grunt of approval when his finger got lost in your wetness.

He took a deep breath and said “I’m too eager to taste you, now. But tomorrow I will touch, lick, worship your whole body. I want to kiss you, from your forehead to your toes. Take back what’s mine.”

“I’m yours, always, Acacius. Whether you are here or not.”

“I know, my sweet girl, I know. As I’m yours. Ad vitam aeternam. (forever)”

He got undressed and you loved that he took his time doing it, with a soft smile on his lips. You loved knowing that he would be there with you for several weeks. Every day and every night. 

You were never tired of looking at him. His body was a gift from the gods. His strong neck, with veins bulging every time he thrust into you. His broad shoulders, his belly slightly softer as the years passed. His large hands, next to which yours seemed tiny. 

His cock.

So massive that on your wedding night you had been so afraid that you had thought of running away. But he had assured you that he would be gentle and go slowly, that he would take care of you. After another hesitation you had chosen to trust him, his tone, his gaze, and two nights later it had seemed that you had been physically made for each other.

But more than his body, his personality, his loyalty, the way he cared about you, made him a loving, reliable, protective husband. You thanked the gods every day for making him yours.

Once naked, he knelt on the bed between your thighs, gently spreading them, finally revealing your pussy. Again, he took a deep breath. His thumb ran over your wet folds.

“You’re drooling for me.”

He lay down, bringing his face closer to your pussy and breathing it in. “Gods, I missed it.”

His tongue traced a stripe between your folds, up to your clit, making you whine. He looked up at you, adding “now, you’re gonna feed me.”

He dove between your thighs, eyes closed, your folds spread by his thumbs, burying his tongue in your core. Feasting, like he did each time he came back, but not only. From the wedding night, and all the others that followed, he had shown you how much he loved eating you out, pulling orgasm after orgasm, sometimes two in a row because he didn’t want to or couldn't stop.

“Acacius,” you whimpered while his nose was rubbing perfectly against your clit. As he had learned during all those years the way your body responded to him.

Back arched, hands lost in his curls, you moved in harmony with his mouth and his tongue, reaching for him, rolling your hips towards him. He pulled back for a few seconds to look at you, and smiled when you cried for his loss. His beard and mustache glistened with your slick and his pupils were dilated as if he had consumed opium to heal a wound. He leaned towards you again, pushing one thick finger between your folds and then sucking your clit. He quickly added a second digit when he heard your needy moans, and licked at your clit. Your hands moved from his curls to your breasts, then to the sheets, your fists clenching on them.

“I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come,” you whimpered, pelvis tilted towards him as far as possible, as if he wasn't already so close to you. The pleasure that was growing in your core finally exploded, hands and thighs holding his head against your cunt, not wanting him to stop. Docile, he kept licking and pumping you with his fingers, until you stopped clenching on them and released him.

He straightened up, crawling between your thighs, taking one nipple in his mouth, sucking on it like his life depended on it before moving on to the other, leaving them glistening with his saliva. Finally, lying between your thighs, he kissed you, his mouth and lips tasting like you.

“I want to taste you too, please,” you begged.

“Of course, my sweet girl. You don’t have to ask. I’m all yours.”

You kissed him before he rolled onto his back, and you straddled him. Covering his cheeks, lips, neck with kisses, then moving down to his torso, hands roaming over his skin. You took one of his nipples in your mouth, sucking, nibbling, licking, then the other, without taking your eyes off him. Admiring his beautiful face. You continued to move down, kissing his belly and hips, your breasts brushing his hard, oozing cock. You took his shaft in hand, and licked his balls, eyes still fixed on him, to see him drop his head back on the bed. “Gods..,” you heard him breathe. 

You smiled and left his balls to suck on his tip, lingering on it, giving you some time to get used to its width, to savor him in your mouth again. His precum flowed in your throat. He had been gone for so long that you were afraid you had forgotten the taste, but it was so familiar again now. Your head bobbing on his shaft, you wanted to make him feel good, wetness dripping from your cunt, moaning on his shaft, and you closed your eyes until you heard him growl louder. Then opened them to see his head raised towards you. One of his hands was placed on the back of your neck.

“You like it, General?” you asked playfully, then licked his shaft tongue flat.

“It’s divine.”

You crawled towards him, arousal dripping from your core after sucking him, you kissed his body again and then his lips, before murmuring “take me.”

His eyes darkened and in one movement he laid you down on the bed, under him. Pressing his cock to your entrance, this time he didn't wait, hands tight on your hips, he pushed his whole lenght into your cunt. His massive cock, so hard that you lost your breath. He never took his eyes off you, dark gaze lowered towards you, soft eyes forgotten in favor of a feral stare. He was possessive, claiming your body as he claimed cities during battles, like his body and mind needed it. Like you needed it too.

You tried to keep your eyes open, to look at him, leaning towards you, eyebrows furrowed, veins throbbing. But the relentless rhythm of his shaft spreading your walls made you forget where you were, leaving you moaning and repeating his name. You clung to his shoulders, telling him how much you loved to feel him again, how much you needed it. 

“Always taking me so well”, he growled, and you hummed with approval.

He slid his hand to the back of your neck, holding you close, his nose against your ear. He breathed you in, focused on your moans, eager to have all his senses filled with you, after months of being surrounded by dirt, screams and blood. 

He was home now, you were his home.

“Acacius,” you whined, his crotch rubbing perfectly where you needed it. 

“Come for me. Soak me.”

“Oh gods… Acacius… Acacius,” you whimpered, your orgasm rushing over you, making you pulse on his shaft, your clit throbbing against his skin.

“Just like that, squeezing me so hard… you were made for me,” he murmured, his breathing now ragged as his own pleasure rose.

“I’m… oh gods,” he said, just before cumming inside you, long spurts of cum painting your walls in white. You held him tighter against you, as he moaned in your ear. Your general of Rome, now the most vulnerable man in your arms.

His jolts finally stopped and he straightened up slightly, careful not to crush you under his weight. He covered your skin with kisses, from your neck to your lips, before rolling onto his side and welcoming you against his chest, arms wrapped around your bare body. Both of you waited for your breathings to calm down.

“I cherish it, you know,” you said, curled up against his chest.

“What do you cherish?” he asked, caressing your skin with his large, loving hands.

“Having you like this, in these moments. It always seems unreal to me, your softness and protectiveness towards me, knowing that you lead battles for Rome. Everyone who fought near you evokes your cold blood.”

He hugged you closer and kissed your forehead, brushing it for a moment with his moustache.

“I love you. I’m only myself when I’m home, with you.”

Thank you for reading 🙏

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[msmk11]

Barbie Dolls and T-Shirts

James Potter x fem!reader

WC: 1.1k

CW: Literally just sickeningly sweet domestic fluff. James and Reader are parents!

Summary: You and your daughter miss James while he’s away for work.

A/n: I’m too young to have a baby, I’m too young to have a baby, I’m too young to have a baby.

***

“Mama?”

You look down at your little girl who is sitting on the floor, her dolls in hand and a pout weighing down her lower lip.

“What’s wrong my darling?”

“I miss Dada,” she whimpers, her eyes- the same color as your own- filling with tears.

You tut softly and hold your arms out, beckoning her into your embrace. She waddles over, leaving the Barbie dolls behind in favor of your warm comfort and gentle pets. You scoop her up and pull her to your chest, running soothing circles across her back as she sheds fat tears down her chubby cheeks.

“I know, sweetheart. I miss Dada too. But I promise he’ll be home soon, okay? Daddy just had to go away to do some work.”

She nods tearfully and rests her head in the crook of your neck. You swoop her wild raven curls, just like her father’s, out of her face and whisper quietly to her, attempting to get her to calm down.

“What’s got you so upset all of a sudden, baby?”

“I don’t have anyone to play dolls with!” She protests pitifully.

You have to suppress a small chuckle, “Well I can play dolls with you.”

“B-but you can’t be Ken. Only Dada can!”

“I can be Ken too sweetheart, even if it isn’t as good as Dad-“

“No!” She cries out, more tears welling up in her eyes, “It has to be Dada.”

“Okay, okay, shhh, it’s okay,” you murmur into her hair, consoling her.

You fish your phone out of your pocket and find James’ contact, FaceTiming him in hopes to cheer up your woeful daughter. Your husband picks up after three rings, his handsome face filling your screen.

“Hi sweetheart, everything okay?” He asks, his soothing baritone crackling through the speaker.

“Hi Jamie. Everything’s fine here, but your baby misses you.”

You hold the phone out to your daughter and she takes it greedily, eyes focused intently on the screen, “Dada!”

“Hello my angel! How are you?” He practically coos. It makes your heart melt, and also ache a little, your own desire to have your husband back home similar to the need of your daughter’s.

She shrugs sheepishly, her little curls bouncing, “I miss you Daddy. When are you coming home?”

His face melts into a pout, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. But I’ll be home soon, yeah? You’ll be playing so much with Mama that before you know it I’ll be back.”

She sniffles sadly and nods.

“And when I get home we’ll play lots and I’ll give you lots of cuddles.”

“More than Mama?”

James chuckles, a deep rumble, “Sure sweetheart, I’ll give you more cuddles than Mama.”

You roll your eyes fondly, and smile into your daughter’s hair. She‘s a daddy’s girl through and through, often getting jealous if James gives you more attention than her. You’re not sure you can blame her.

“Oi Prongs! We gotta go,” a muffled voice shouts from off screen.

James looks towards the familiar voice of Sirius, the latter appearing on the screen moments later.

“Hi Bambi,” he greets more softly, smiling at your daughter.

“Padfoot!” She squeals, her smile widening.

“Are you causing trouble for your Mama?”

She giggles and looks at you before nodding.

“That’s my girl!” Sirius cheers, before making eye contact with you and smirking.

You huff fondly and kiss your daughter’s forehead, “Okay baby, time to say bye to Dada, he has to go back to work.”

“Bye Dada,” she murmurs, blowing him a big, wet kiss.

“Bye sweetheart, I love you,” James responds sweetly.

“I love you!” She coos back.

“I’ll talk to you later Jamie, I love you,” you add.

“I love you too, angel. I’ll see you soon,” he replies, his eyes soft and voice tender.

You hang up the phone and your daughter wiggles out of your arms onto the floor, “I guess you can play with Ken, Mama. But you have to do it like Dada!”

*****

After your daughter was born James didn’t travel much for work. He’d preferred being nearby at all times, to be there for you and your child. Only now, after a few years and a lot of convincing, did James finally allow himself to travel again. You are happy he is, knowing that he’s missed the more active part of his position. Still, you miss him more than you’d like to admit. You just try not to show it in front of your daughter so she doesn’t get more upset than like she already did earlier today.

The evenings are when you miss him most, when he’s not laying in bed with you. Your best substitute is his clothing, preferring some of his softer shirts as your choice for pjs. As you ready your daughter for bed you’re wearing one of James’ older shirts all the way back from school. It’s comfy and smells a lot like him, calming you down.

“Mama?”

“Yes baby?” You reply as you comb through her damp curls.

“Why is that shirt so big on you?” She asks curiously.

“Cause it’s Dada’s shirt.”

“Why are you wearing Dada’s clothes?” She giggles, the thought seemingly very silly to her.

You smile softly at her, “it makes me feel better when I miss Daddy, baby.”

She nods in understanding and her eyes light up, “Mama, Mama, Mama?”

“What, what, what?” You chuckle.

“Can I wear one of Daddy’s shirts too?”

You know the shirt will be way too big on her, but you have no reason to deny her, “Sure baby, let’s go pick one out.”

She runs excitedly down the hall to you and James’ room and into the closet. She bounces up and down eagerly as you sift through James’ clothes, pulling out a few for her to choose from.

“Which do you like best?”

Her eyes scan the options thoughtfully, her brow furrowing cutely.

“Mhmmm the blue one!”

“Alright, arms up.”

She lifts them obediently as you slip the blue shirt over her head. It falls down her body to her ankles and she giggles, giving you a little twirl. It might just be the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen.

“Very pretty, baby!”

“Why don’t we send Daddy a picture?”

You scoop her up into your arms and rest her on your hip. You move into the bathroom and pull out your phone, snapping a quick photo of the two of you in the mirror.

“Cheese!” She shouts and you laugh.

You: sent 1 image

You: Missing you extra <3

Jamie: This is the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. And it’s definitely my new lock screen.

You: She looks so stinking cute, I can’t handle it.

Jamie: You look pretty cute yourself, angel. Can’t wait to have you to myself when I get back :)

You: Get your cute self home soon then, baby. I miss you. I love you.

Jamie: I miss you both so much. And love you more <3

[sttoru]

dad!Toji losing megumi on his sight in a grocery store.

⟣ tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff.

“where the hell did that brat go. . .” toji sighs in frustration as he makes his third trip around the numerous aisles, peeking through each gap between to see where his son could’ve possibly hid.

you had been gone for one minute to grab something you had forgotten in the car, leaving your husband and son alone at the grocery store. you thought toji would be more than capable of keeping an eye on megumi during the time you left.

he did succeed for a couple seconds, but then somehow lost sight of the little boy. it happened out of the blue—even for someone as quick as toji, his child seemed to have disappeared into thin air, without him noticing at all.

“tsk, just wait ‘til i catch ya..” toji scoffs and makes quick strides. the other customers seemed to scurry off to the sides as the dark-haired man passes them—the reason for this being his bulky and tall body and that cold yet pissed off expression on his face whilst walking forwards.

of course, toji was still secretly worried for megumi. he didn’t want to think of the worst case scenario at all. he needs to stay calm and collected in such situations. panicking will do him no good.

toji passes by a pit of plushies, paying it no mind until he hears a soft, muffled giggle from that same area. he stops in his tracks and turns his head to the right. that voice was one he could recognise from miles away.

“oh, y’re so done.” the dark-haired man mutters under his breath and digs through the many plushies, hands looking for the source of that giggle. there were a couple strands of dark blue hair sticking out from between the big stuffed animals and toji wasted no time, “c’mere, brat.”

he uses a bit of his strength and fishes out a child from under the pile of softness—his child.

“papa!” megumi squeals and was holding onto a plushie: a cute black dog one. it seems like he had waddled off and climbed onto the box to grab that specific plushie, but couldn’t get out afterwards, “papa, waf! waf!”

toji sighs and holds megumi up by the back of his shirt, walking back to your shopping cart. he gains some stares due to the obscure way he was carrying his son around, though megumi himself couldn’t care any less as he cuddles up to the plushie in his tiny arms.

toji puts the little boy in the baby seat and grabs onto the stuffed animal, tugging at it; “gimme that. ya can’t have it ‘cause ya ran off without tellin’ me.”

megumi whines and pulls the toy back in his arms, giving toji a pleading look. his lips formed a desperate pout and his eyes were starting to glisten with tears that appeared on his waterlines.

“yeah, stare at me all you want with those big bug eyes—y’re not gonna get that.” your husband shakes his head and grabs the plushie again, taking it away from his son to put it back.

megumi reacts to this by curling his chubby hand around toji’s index finger—still with that cute pout on his lips whilst trying to prevent his dad from stepping away. it’s specifically those shiny blue orbs that seem to mellow toji’s heart to the point he almost gives in.

“…”

you come back after five minutes and spot your family back in the candy aisle. the duo didn’t appear to have seen you yet since they were busy picking out some sweets for later.

“hi, my angels.” you creep up behind toji and tap his back. he instantly steps aside and your (surprisingly) super excited son comes into view.

megumi was smiling widely and that’s when your eyes land on something in his arms.

“oh, you got ‘gumi a dog plushie!” you gasp and seem to get excited for your child—megumi giggling right alongside you, “how nice!”

toji rolls his eyes, though wasn’t about to admit that he eventually did give in to megumi’s adorable tactics. he gently flicks the little boy’s forehead and looks back at you;

“didn’t get it for him out of my own free will.” your husband grumbles and then continues to squish megumi’s cheeks together using one hand, “this little brat threatened me.”

“i’m sure he did.” you chuckle and nudge toji’s side with your elbow. you knew just how much of a softie really is for his son.

“i’m not lyin’,” toji replies with a sigh and pushes the cart ahead, you following next to him with a smile, “he threatened me with those big eyes of his. i’m tellin’ ya, that stuff is dangerous.” —for my heart, he adds in his head.

you couldn’t contain your laughter as you hear your lover’s words. your gaze then lands on megumi, who was contentedly staring up at both his parents, cuddled up to the big stuffed animal.

“good job.” you gave megumi a thumbs up and ruffle his hair as a reward. the kid sticks his tongue out and almost looks proud of the fact that he got his way in the end.

toji really was just a big softie for his son. and for his wife as well, of course.

[paranoiastudio]

His wife

pairing: Aemond х Tully!wife

warnings: 18+ smut, p in v, lactation kink, cream pie

word count: 1,7k

English is not my first language, sorry about mistakes

The rustling of ancient tome pages breaks the silence of the room, merging with the crackling of logs in the fireplace. Night has long since come into its own, but Aemond is in no hurry to go to sleep, studying chapter after chapter, practicing his High Valyrian. The dinner that the maid brought a few hours ago has already cooled and remained untouched.

A loud clap of thunder tears the prince from his thoughts and he belatedly realizes that it was the roar of Vhagar, hungry for flight. But even this noise did not prevent the Targaryen's sensitive hearing from catching something else. The door?

- I told you not to disturb me. - Without turning his head, Aemond returns to the book, bending even lower than before.

- Yes, I was told your words, but I thought that you would make an exception for me... Husband.

Your voice penetrates the prince's head like a sweet melody and he straightens up in his chair. Quiet footsteps are heard behind you, you came barefoot, probably just got out of bed, again not finding your husband nearby.

A light scent of cinnamon and lily fills the space around Aemond and he enjoys the elusive warmth that your presence gives him. His wife... His sweet wife, always so kind to him, always reasonable in public and burning with passion next to him. And only next to him.

- Will you allow me to stay here? - Aemond nods and you find yourself in the chair opposite, straightening out a large sleeping robe for your figure. The blue fabric was decorated with silver threads that formed silhouettes of large and small fish.

- The colors of your house suit you. - A white nightgown was visible from under the robe, the thin lace clung to your chest so seductively that the prince had to make an effort to look away.

- My home is now the Targaryen house. - You smile at each other. - Are you going to sleep tonight?

- It was in the plans. - Aemond shrugs and picks up another book.

- Sounds promising. - You roll your eyes and put your feet up on the chair, like a child. - We haven't been together for so long, since...

It's been half a year since your son was born, maternal cares have not left you, while Aemond was busy with state affairs and only occasionally saw you and your boy.

The maester recommended waiting with intimacy, you needed rest after a long and rather difficult birth. Every day, looking at yourself in the mirror, you could not help but regret your beauty, which now seemed to have faded.

You couldn't help but worry about your marriage: Aemond was so rarely around, and Aegon, on the contrary, hung around more than usual, throwing his barbed remarks at his brother.

- Do you still love me? - Aemond's violet eye immediately pierces you. - If you don't love me anymore, then just tell me not to expect what is not available to me.

Targaryen rises from his seat and kneels before you, clasping your small and cold palms in his large ones.

- No one will ever make me abandon you and you know it. I swore to love you and I love you, do you remember?

Even before the ceremony in the sept, Aemond swore to you, his bride, his love and fidelity. He himself chose you among all and never regretted his choice, it is unlikely that there was a more suitable woman.

- I remember, but...

- No "but", my love. - Aymond touches your hair, which falls in a thick cascade over your shoulders. - And I do not want to hear doubts.

You wanted to download something else, but the prince kisses you, as if deliberately cutting off the paths of retreat. You grab his beautiful face and kiss him back.

It was as if for the first time: Aymond kissed you with passion, pressing closer and closer, your lips seemed to tingle from the intensity of his closeness. His warm tongue slid into your mouth and any doubts in his words disappeared. He touched you as always, gently and lovingly.

You leaned back, the hard back of the chair did not allow you to fall, when Aymond, standing between your legs, opened the heavy robe. The nightgown, the object of his attention, hugged your tender body so beautifully, not hiding you from her husband's gaze. Aymond's gaze slides from the bottom up and immediately notices two wet spots on your chest, milk was still flowing.

- You are so beautiful... - Throwing your legs over his shoulders, Aemond rolls up your shirt to your waist and pulls you closer. - My beautiful, beloved wife.

A wet kiss to the epicenter of your arousal makes you shudder, you squeeze the wooden arms of the chair and slightly lift your hips. Aemond immediately grabs you under the buttocks and presses closer, burying his tongue in your swollen and needy clitoris.

Slowly, he runs two fingers along the wet folds and slightly stretches you, without stopping the movement of his tongue. You play with his blond hair and almost purr from the sensations, you did not hope for this in the morning.

- I will fill you again, dear wife. - Aemond moves his fingers faster, smirking at the squelching sound that your aching cunt makes. - If I could, I would stay inside you forever.

- Aymond, please... - His words spurred you on, your husband's praise always gave you confidence. - I...

- Cum for me, wife. - Aymond doesn't take his eyes off you, continuing to fuck you with his fingers and lazily swirl his tongue over you. - I'll catch you, my love...

Your eyes close on their own, as if a bucket of water had been poured over you: your breath caught, and your limbs were shackled by a sweet spasm. You involuntarily press yourself against your husband, not at all embarrassed by the fact that you are literally rubbing your wet, hot pussy against his face.

Aymond doesn't show any displeasure, he continues to caress you until you calm down in his arms. He doesn't miss the fact that your breasts continue to flow with milk and have almost completely wet your nightgown.

- You are amazing. - Aymond licks his lips and lifts himself up so that your faces are level, the fabric of his pants rubs against your still sensitive pussy and you gasp, pulling him closer. - My beloved. Mother of my child.

Aymond's hand slides along your thigh, feeling how you tremble, but you do not shy away from his hand, trustingly accepting the caress. Aymond cannot help but walk over his favorite places: your hair and shoulders, your plump and heavy with milk and desire breasts, your thin ankles.

- Please, husband, make me a mother again. - You move your hips, leaving wet spots on your spouse's clothes.

Aymond lowers his pants just enough to expose his already erect member. He is still kneeling in front of you and pulls you so that he can comfortably settle between your plush thighs.

You feel his heat, dripping onto Aemond's cock and taking it easily as he fills you in one smooth motion. It's so tight and hot inside that the prince freezes and closes his eyes, trying not to cum right then and there.

You whine and squirm beneath him, but Aemond doesn't move, watching you with a cheeky smirk. He always loved to see what desire did to his sweet, kind wife.

- Aemond, why are you... - You huff angrily, pushing your unruly hair out of your face. - Please, let me...

- You will have everything you want, my dear. In time... - Aemond runs a finger over your lips and you immediately grab him, sucking the finger into your mouth. - So needy...

- Kostilus... Kostilus, valzȳrys... - The words come out of your mouth surprisingly easily, you have long studied High Valyrian, wanting to communicate with your husband in the language of his ancestors.

You see the effect your words have on him: Aemond's healthy eye darkens even more, he licks his lips and falls to your breast, biting and kissing the tender flesh, still wet with milk.

His tongue collects the droplets and finds a hot, swollen nipple, absorbing the milk and easing the pain in you're full tits.

- Gods. - You pull your husband closer, running your fingers through his blond locks. - Aemond, please...

The prince pulls away from you and settles himself more comfortably, distributing his weight on his elbows. You grip his strong forearms and shift, taking him even deeper.

A rough growl escapes your husband's mouth, he catches a fast rhythm, filling you so perfectly that you were ready to cry with pleasure. A white ring gathered at the base of his cock, demonstrating your desire.

- My sweet wife. - The fact that Aemond could speak so smoothly amazed you. - My beautiful, sweet wife, the most beautiful woman in the world. Fuck!

Aemond penetrates especially deep and you close your eyes, feeling how he hits the right spot again and again, pushing you to the edge.

- Aemond, I... just a little more, kostilus... - Targaryen fucks you, the chair creaks under you and you fall over the edge when Aemond's thumb touches your clit.

- Yes, that's it, my girl, cum on my cock, show me how much you want me. - The grip on your hips tightens and you only accept what your husband gives you. Your pussy pulses along Targaryen's length, as if sucking all the seed out of him.

- I love you... - Your whisper does not go unnoticed, and Aemond cums, crushing your lips in a greedy kiss.

Sweat covers your body and your legs ache slightly from the awkward position, but the unique feeling of fullness and satisfaction overpowered all the inconveniences.

- Wait. - You stop your husband, not allowing him to leave your body. - Stay.

Aemond slowly softens inside you, feeling the fruits of your love flow out of you. Slipping out, he pushes his seed into you with his finger, catching your quiet sighs.

- Don't you dare think again that I don't love you. - Aemond grabs your chin and turns your face to him. - You are all I have and I will never, do you hear me, never betray you.

You wipe a drop of milk from your husband's chin and smile tenderly at him, accepting Aemond into your arms.

- And I love you, my dragon. - The warmth of this closeness calmed your heart, which had been gripped by fear for the past few months.

[my-names-angel-but-im-not-one]

Soulmates

Pairing: satosugu x reader.

Tw warning: obsessive behaviour, kind of dark, possesive Satoru. And just Satoru(he's a warning himself). No proof read, I'll do it later okay.

He used to hate it. The mark. Satoru used to hate it. The small moon mark of his soulmate, of you , because it was just below his mark.

The mark of suguru. His first soulmate, that he killed , and watched as suguru's body slowly became lifeless , Satoru's eyes watering but he refused to cry. He held him close , his lover , his bestfriend , the only one who saw him as satoru and not as strongest, slowly suguru's mark on Satoru's wrist started to wither away and then gone completely, before the weight of this could crash on him another mark formed below suguru's fading one.

He furrowed his brows, what was this?.......was the universe playing with him? Were they playing a cruel joke on him? Laughing down at strongest, by giving him another soulmate right after he killed his first one? He hated this mark , this moon mark. It was mocking him , laughing at his misery of loosing his soulmate and giving him another one.

He hate this, he hate everything, he hate himself for killing the only man he loved and for what? Humans? Oh how he so was gonna kill you, the one who's his second soulmate. Second. You think you can replace suguru?! He'll show you and the universe itself how devoted he is to suguru.

But he couldn't.

When he first saw you, shying a bit, in a meek voice asking him sweetly "um are you my soulmate?" As you shy away a bit. Maybe because he's beautiful, or maybe that's just your personality. But the thought of killing you never crossed him again after your encounter with him.

But what broke his heart when you showed him , his mark on you. Right bellow your collar bone. A white fish. Koi fish. His heart broke, because it's same as him, same mark of him that suguru had.

He never thought he'd love anyone else, not after suguru, he thought he'd be too depressed too unaware of everything, but you were an unexpected twist in his life. He thought of you more as a possession than a person. But can you blame him though? He's soo paranoid that you'll die too. And to make it worse? You're a non sorcerer.

You were practically born to be kept locked , to be safe and isolated. He couldn't save suguru, a special grade so he know he needs extra precautions to keep you safe. He can't let you know the world he live in , he can't let you know he's abnormal. And most importantly? He can't let you know you're second one and you'll always be.

You had your suspicions about him , he said he's a teacher, but only have a handful student, when you asked to visit his place he refuse. Lashed out even, you were scared, he's a man at the end, stronger than you , but he apologized, begged even. He so sweet ofcourse you'd forgive him , he's just a big baby to you. But then it grew, the suspicions, he used to stare at things as in off space and when you look where he's looking, there's nothing. You asked him "what is it? Is there's something?" He just shook his head and mumbled "spaced out".

You thought you were being paranoid, but he was just getting creepier and creepier , one night you woke up in the middle of your sleep, he was there , standing by your bedside , blue eyes shining in a pretty way? No. Scary. For the first tome you thought he was scary.

"Satoru....? What are you doing in my house??"

".....I was missing you"

"but we just had lunch together in the morning?"

"Yeah......but i-..... I love you"

"I know, ......I love you more"

You said sighing a bit, sure he's kind of creepy but you're blind, blinded by his beauty, cute behaviour and the little tears that prick his eyes as he stands there. You can't understand him. But that's just live isn't it? You don't need to understand him to love him.

"Come here" you said patting the empty space next to you. He climbed in fast. You pecked his forehead and spooned him letting him cuddle not asking anymore questions but one.

"Wait...how did you get in here? I don't have a spare key."

"Uh....I kind of broke the window?"

"SATORU!"

It was fine for few months, amazing even. You don't mind him being possesive or obsessive as long as you have your freedom , infact it's all cute even. But then you had an accident, minor one, your knees and palm scrapped you told him, mostly in a joking way, but he was done , done with this all.

Next day you woke up chained , ankle in binds that connected to the wall , and it don't look new, it look like it was planned , you panicked a bit thinking you're kidnapped but then he walked in with food

"Satoru?"

You whispered almost confused, he just smiled. This was different, his smile wasn't adorable like you once thought, it wasn't the one that he gave on your lame jokes, it looks guilty, apologetic even.

"I'm sorry"

He said and you knew, it's his doing, you're smart. Naive? Maybe as you ignore all the signs, but smart enough to know it's all planned, planned for longer than you think.

"Why?"

You asked sitting on the bed, but something told you , you knew the answer.

"I can't loose you. After the accide-"

"It's nothing! I just scrapped my knee-"

"You never know! What if next time it's worse! What if you....you..."

He couldn't get the world's out, tears seeping through his sunglasses, that you never asked why he wore.

"come here"

Seems like this is the only thing you'd be saying from now one.

Things didn't changed but you did. He removed chains but kept you inside the house, you were fine with it. Sometimes questioning your sanity as to why are you fine with it , but you were. He bought everything you'd want. And you started something work from home. He was tamed, as long as you were inside the house, the moment you guys were out for a movie or anything, he was like a rabid dog. Feral even. So you preferred staying indoor. 'Good for me' you often thought, atleast you don't have to socialize.

He loves you so much. And you know that, you know if you scream he'll come running. And so he did. When you're scram came from the bathroom.

You rubbed your collarbone, trying to remove whatever it was , before Satoru can come in the bathroom from your scream, but you forgot he's fast. He busted through the door.

"What?! What happened?!"

He asked eyes panicked as if searching for danger but it was just you bent over a bit, to look in the mirror, you were rubbing, your collarbone??

"I didn't do anything! I don't what this is! I swear! I don't know I don't know"

you were panicking, he took long strides towards you

"hey hey it's alright I'm here I'm here, it's alright okay? Show me what it is , I'll fix it"

he said rubbing you arms. You nodded Removing your hands. Satoru's eyes widened, in shock? Surprise? No, it was horror. A mark had form below his soulmate mark. He hurriedly rolled up his sleeves and yes there it was. The same one. Your panicked face confronts into confusion "what is...." You don't know what to say, he put his wrist near you collarbone and yes it was same.

The black koi fish mark. On both of you. Suguru's mark

A/N: I took soooooooo long I know. I don't have motivation to write. Also if there's any grammatical mistakes do let me know, I don't have the energy to proof read I'll do it laterrrrrrr, love ya guys :)