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lostlikesaebyeok · 3 days ago

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hi i love your works so much!!! you have no idea how happy i am seeing something new in the sae byeok hashtag everyday it's so refreshing you're doing god's work🙏🙏 could i perhaps request an enemies to lovers with sae byeok plus one bed trope 👀 ends in something steamy maybe?

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: 𝒌𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒂𝒆-𝒃𝒚𝒆𝒐𝒌 :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

✧˚·̩͙﹕𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒍𝒆: campfire heat

✧˚·̩͙﹕𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: kang sae-byeok x fem!reader

✧˚·̩͙﹕𝒂𝒖: summer camp volunteer au

✧˚·̩͙﹕𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: enemies to lovers, slow burn, nsfw implications, tension, one bed trope

✧˚·̩͙﹕𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: explicit content, enemies to lovers tension, forced proximity (one bed), kissing, mutual pining disguised as hatred

✧˚·̩͙﹕𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚:

you hated her lazy attitude, her smug little smirk, the way she always made you clean up after her.

but eleven days into camp and one shared bed, you realise it was never really hate. not the kind that wins.

you didn’t mean to get paired with her.

you were minding your own business, tugging your bag over your shoulder, when the director of the volunteer camp called your name. “you’ll be rooming with kang sae-byeok. take key seventeen.”

your stomach dropped before you even turned. because you knew exactly who she was. sharp-jawed. sharp-tongued. always standing in the back like she was ready to flee. you’d argued with her during volunteer meetings more times than you could count. about how to split food. about who got what shifts. about whether she was even taking this seriously.

you didn’t hate her. but you certainly didn’t not hate her.

“of course,” you muttered. because your luck always ran out when it came to her.

the cabin is small. too small. your bags hit the floor and you both stand there, glaring at the one bed against the far wall. it’s queen-sized, but barely. the mattress dips in the middle. the room’s thin walls are lined with bare wooden shelves and the smell of pine hangs thick in the air.

sae-byeok is already crossing her arms.

“i’ll sleep on the floor,” she says.

you raise a brow. “why? scared to be near me?”

her eyes narrow. “scared of you? please.”

“then sleep in the bed.”

she scoffs. but she doesn’t argue.

you smirk and turn to unpack.

the next few days are tense.

you work all morning helping local kids with schoolwork and cleaning up community spaces, and then you come back to this cramped, cold room with sae-byeok in it. she’s barely ever there. usually off on a walk or sitting under some tree. but when she is, she’s silent. changing clothes behind the wardrobe door. brushing her teeth without a word. throwing herself into bed with her back to you.

and god, the bed.

you started by drawing an imaginary line down the middle. no crossing. no touching. just your side, her side. but the mattress sags, and on the second night, your hips bumped.

neither of you said anything.

by the third night, her knee brushed yours in the dark, and you didn’t move away.

you argue again on day four. something stupid.

you’re sitting on the cabin steps, boots unlaced, tired and sore and sore-minded. she walks up with two granola bars. offers one. you snatch it, mutter “thanks,” and she shrugs like she regrets it already.

“you could try not being a bitch all the time,” you say after a beat.

she stops unwrapping her bar. turns her head.

“you think i like dealing with you?” she says coolly.

“you act like you’re too good to talk to anyone.”

“maybe i am.”

your eyes narrow. “what’s your problem?”

she takes a bite of her granola bar. chews. swallows. “you talk too much.”

“and you don’t talk enough.”

you both stare. the wind whistles between the trees.

then–

“maybe i’d like you better if you weren’t so loud,” she mutters.

and maybe it’s exhaustion. or maybe it’s the way her eyes flick down to your mouth like it’s muscle memory. but your breath hitches. your heart stumbles.

you don’t say another word.

that night, the tension follows you into the cabin like fog.

she takes her time changing. her tank top rides up when she reaches for something, and you see the sliver of muscle at her side. you look away too late.

in bed, you lie stiff on your side. you feel her warmth behind you. closer than usual. maybe the cold’s worse tonight. maybe she shifted in her sleep.

maybe you don’t mind.

you wake up tangled.

her thigh is over yours. her arm heavy on your waist. her breath on your neck.

you freeze.

but her hold is soft. possessive. like she knows you’re there, even asleep.

you stay still for a long time.

after that, something breaks.

not out loud. you still argue. still roll your eyes when she shrugs you off. still huff when she disappears for hours.

but the touches become normal.

a shoulder bump. a hand on your lower back when someone gets too close. her fingers brushing yours when she passes you something.

your name sounds different in her voice now. softer. like a thread pulled taut.

and god, you want to pull it.

day eleven. it rains.

your clothes get soaked. you run back to the cabin with mud on your legs and your hair stuck to your neck. sae-byeok’s already inside, peeling off her wet hoodie.

you stop. she’s in just a black sports bra, damp against her skin. her eyes lift when she sees you.

neither of you says anything.

you shut the door behind you.

“cold?” she asks.

you nod.

she nods back. “the water pressure on the shower is shit, take a bath instead tonight.”

you laugh. “figures.”

you change out of your wet clothes behind the wardrobe door. but it doesn’t matter. she sees you later, when you come out in a towel and the air is thick and quiet and you can feel her watching your bare legs like she’s angry at them.

you dry off. dress. slip into bed.

she joins you. her hair’s damp too. her skin smells like rain and earth.

you lie there, staring at the ceiling.

then, her voice is low.

“why do you hate me?”

you blink. “what?”

“you always argue. you glare like i’m a problem.”

you roll onto your side, facing her. “maybe because you are.”

her eyes search yours.

you sigh. “i don’t hate you.”

“could’ve fooled me.”

you hesitate. then–

“you make me nervous.”

that stops her.

“…why?”

you don’t answer. but your hand moves. slides between the sheets. touches her wrist.

she doesn’t pull away.

you breathe. “because you make me feel things i don’t know what to do with.”

her fingers curl around yours.

you look at her mouth.

“say it,” she murmurs.

“i want you.”

and it’s enough.

her hand fists your shirt. pulls you in. your lips crash together like you’ve been waiting to lose.

she kisses hard. hungry. her knee slips between yours and your breath catches. you clutch at her waist, sliding your hand under her shirt, feeling the heat of her.

she moans softly into your mouth. bites your lip.

“god, i knew it,” she whispers. “you’ve wanted this. so smug all the time. acting like you didn’t look.”

“you’re one to talk,” you gasp as her mouth trails to your neck. “always acting like i’m annoying when you were dying to touch me.”

she grins against your skin. “maybe i like girls who piss me off.”

you flip her onto her back. grind against her thigh. she lets out a breathy laugh that turns into a moan.

“shut up,” you growl.

“make me,” she says, pulling you down again.

and you do.

the next morning, the bed’s a mess. limbs tangled. bruises blooming.

you wake up first. watch her sleep. her mouth parted slightly. her fingers still curled around your wrist like she didn’t want to let go.

you smile.

“still think i talk too much?” you whisper.

she opens one eye.

“only when your mouth’s not on me.”

you grin. “bitch.”

she pulls you in. kisses you slow.

“your bitch.”

you don’t argue this time.

thank u for reading, angel ♡

(〃^ー^〃) likes = sae-byeok being your bitch

♡ note: you're so sweet i'm gonna cry omds, i hope you enjoy this love <3

♡ tags: @eunchacha @ilovesawbyeokandjjmaybank @saeshairtie @gg0mezz @saphicsaturn @gyuyoungg @lyzem @janegrapefruitttt @reynadeluniverso @laylaheinz @laurenkenss @bleedingwhiteroses222 @maevelovessae

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olivianott · 4 months ago

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THE LASERS ARE LOOKING

• AU DJ!Theo x fem!reader, all characters are adults

• explicit, not for minors, MDNI

• public sex

• I give you one try to guess what’s my fyp build of at the moment 😌

The music is loud. The air is foggy and you feel the pumping of the bass in your whole body. This rave was not your idea, your friends dragged you with them. Now you are actually grateful, it’s so much fun, finally letting go of your worries and losing yourself in the music for a while. Music so loud, you can’t hear your brain. Bliss.

And you did lose yourself, even in the space, suddenly separated from your friends, right up against the little podium where the DJ is jumping and dancing to his music. What a weirdo. Dressed in all black with a kind of tactical vest and a white mask on his head, you could only see his eyes through the black mesh. Hmmm… weird but kinda sexy, you must admit.

He is pumping his arms in the air, people around you losing their minds, you love the atmosphere of this place. For once you feel the animalistic nature of the people, sweat and heat, the eroticism takes you off guard a little bit but you like what you feel and you’ve been enjoying it all night. Lust. At one point you feel hands snake around your waist and roam against your hips and thighs. Yes. This is what you’ve been missing. You have been longing for a human touch for a while now and this place made you so horny, you did not even flinch when this… you turn your head to look behind your shoulder… man touched you. Oh, he is sexy. Dark eyes looking at you through hooded lids, slightly curly hair falling down onto his nose, while his hand is now traveling up through the center of your ribcage to settle on your neck, slightly turning your head so he can whisper right into your ear:

“I’ve never seen anything sexier than you dancing.” The funny thing was, now that he was wrapped around you, you could not jump and dance, you were both just slowly grinding against each other, ignoring the rhythm of the music and just swaying in your own world. You felt his hard cock against your ass, and his hands on your thighs felt like the most erotic gesture you could imagine. Your whole body started tingling when his mouth sucked on the sensitive skin of your neck.

You opened your eyes, without even knowing when you’d closed them, and what you didn’t see was that there was another DJ up in the booth now. The music was still playing, however, so you didn’t feel like that was anything important.

You leaned your head back against your new friend's shoulder and ground your ass against his hips again, making yourself incredibly horny and your panties wet.

“I’m Theo by the way.”

You felt bold so you leaned in and whispered back into his ear:” Good, now I know what to scream when you fuck me finally.” His smirk was so devious and sexy, you felt like you’ll melt like a puddle at his feet. Somehow you both realized you were at the edge of the crowd now, near the corner, in the dark, only occasionally, a laser or a reflector passed through this space, illuminating you both for a second and then moving on again.

Perfect spot. Theo seemed to realize it too because his hands got bold, roaming from your hips, and thighs over the seem of your tight pants, sending a jolt through your clit and goosebumps all over your body. Slowly, as if to let you stop him, one of his hands played with the button on your pants. Finally opening it, one of his hands dipped into your pants and panties, finding your pussy soaked and ready.

“Oh fuck me.” You heard him groan and felt him squeezing your throat a little bit with his other hand, his cock grinding into your ass harder now.

“You’re fucking soaked, devolina, you’ve been desperate for this, haven’t you?”

Your moans thankfully lost to the music, you soared higher and higher with his fingers playing with your slick pussy, sliding erotically over your clit back and forth.

“Look at all these people, unaware. Does it turn you on that someone can easily look and see you enjoying my fingers in your pussy, you little slut?”

All you could do was groan and moan in response, Theo’s fingers now finding their way from your neck up into your mouth, pressing against your tongue, making you lose your fucking mind. The sensations got so intense, you’ve never felt like this, your whole body on fire, eyes closed, teeth clamping down on his fingers, pussy squeezing around nothing, desperately pulsing and clit firing sparks into your system, suddenly overloaded. A second of complete contentment, quiet, calm, and then your whole body arched against him, convulsing in ecstasy, you don’t know if you’re screaming, falling, or passing out, but Theo is holding you up, still flicking your clit, prolonging your orgasm and enjoying the pain of your teeth clamping on his fingers, shivers traveling through your whole body.

“My name on your lips is better than any music I can play. Maybe you’ll be my favorite instrument from now on.”

When you are more steady on your feet, he steps around you to look you in the eyes and says “I have to go play another set now, be sure to stand in front of the booth.” He ends with a wink and a smirk while putting his white mask back on.

FUCK.

When he climbs up to the booth, you watch him as he rolls his mask up over his mouth and puts his fingers in his mouth, theatrically licking his fingers. The crows goes wild with this and they don’t even know what he just did. You button up your pants and move through the people to stand in front of the booth, unbuttoning your bra under your shirt to continue the show. His only saving grace is the DJ booth hiding his uncomfortably packed pants.

As aslways, thank you for reading, hope you liked it.

If you want more: 🖤here🖤

Last divider from @hereindreamlandpng

#theodore nott #drabble #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #theo nott smut #dj theo #i’m too far gone #slytherin boys smut #alternate universe #smutty smut smut #smutty fanfiction #dark slytherin boys #slytherin boys #theodore nott x reader #theo x reader #theodore nott imagine #theo nott x reader

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didyoulookforme · 4 months ago

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lazy sucking bf matty’s cock on the couch while watching a movie idk :)

it’s a thursday evening and you and your sweet boyfriend are lying on the couch watching jurassic park which is a movie both of you know by heart but matty’s had a stressful day and there’s nothing more comforting than watching a familiar film with his girl draped all over him and a cozy blanket enveloping you both. your legs are lazily tangled together as you rest your head on his chest, one of his hands under your shirt drawing mindless figures on your lower back, his other playing with the rings on your fingers as he often does. every now and then he kisses the top of your head and you cannot help but grin like an idiot because you love him so damn much.

not even jeff goldblum can make you focus on the film because you’re too distracted looking up at matty, his brows furrowed and often reciting a line under his breath because he’s too fucking adorable for his own good. his curls are half damp from his shower prior so they hang loosely over his face and the cushion below making him look like the perfect human being. you notice the sharp angles of his jaw, the way his lashes cast shadows over his cheekbones, the curve of his lips when he concentrates. he bites the tip of his tongue when he’s thinking, and it’s the kind of thing that still drives you utterly mad after years and years of knowing him. that paired with his hand now fully splayed against your back pushes you over the edge, wanting to touch more of him so you do so, gently pulling your hand away from his but not before you kiss his knuckles.

your hand lowers until it’s under the hem of his striped jumper, brushing the soft hair trailing down his navel. he doesn’t really react until your fingertips are under the waistband of his joggers. it’s then that he looks down and asks what you’re doing and you tell him nothing, to just keep watching. he kisses the top of your head again, mumbling an “okay, if you say so” very sweetly but he definitely knows what you’re up to by the way his lips curl.

you place a kiss on his chest before continuing to push your hand under his grey sweatpants, knowing well that he doesn’t usually put on boxers after an evening shower hehe. you palm over him, feeling him soft against your hand. you pump him oh so slowly as he grows harder with every lazy stroke of your fingers. he doesn’t say anything, but his breathing changes and you glance up to see his eyes flutter closed, his bottom lip caught between his teeth again. you never speed up and eventually his hips join the slow rhythm moving up and down to get a bit more friction. he’s so fucking beautiful like that. he always lets you do whatever you want to him and he couldn’t be any more adorable.

he finally looks down at you, pupils blown wide and he has the sweetest, dopiest smile on his face, and when you ask if he’s okay, he just nods as he rakes a hand through your hair. you shift down as he watches you, your fingers hooking into the waistband of his joggers, pulling them down as he lifts his hips to help you. once he’s free, you just stare at his pretty cock because, yes, it’s perfect and no one will convince you otherwise. beads of precum drip from his tip and you can’t help but lick and place soft, open mouthed kissed all down his dick. sometimes sucking gently and grazing your teeth against the sensitive skin there. again, you go as slow as possible and there’s not one single part of him that your mouth and tongue don’t touch.

you can tell that matty is doing his best to not just fuck your face right then and there, but he’d be damned if he’s not enjoying every single second of you tasting him. his fingers are somehow able to function enough to mute the television, this way he can listen to the way your lips sound when you kiss him or when you kitten lick along his slit. he doesn’t want to miss a single moan that falls from your lips either.

now that you have his full attention, you let saliva pool on your tongue and let it drip on him because you know he likes it wet and messy. you pump him one, two, three times before taking the tip in your month, sucking softly while your tongue swirls around it. his fingertips are now really digging into your back but you don’t give a shit because the whimpers coming from him are delicious and otherworldly. you spend a couple of minutes sucking the head while your hand strokes the rest of him, but when you feel his tummy quiver nonstop, you take him in fully until he hits the back of your throat. you gag once but that’s enough for matty to ask if you’re okay so you just hum in response, those tiny vibrations making his dick twitch against your tongue. slowly you bring yourself up, savouring every inch of him, before you start bobbing your head up and down in the same slow, maddening pace you’ve set for the night.

matty, being the gentleman that he is, uses his hands to bring your hair into a makeshift ponytail so the strands don’t get in your way. but honestly, it’s mostly so he can clearly stare at you sucking his dick and making an absolute mess of him. he nods each time you ask if he’s okay, and when you call him your sweet boy, he doesn’t even hesitate to ask you to call him that again and even thanks you in return.

he gets impossibly hard in your mouth and you know he’s so, so close. when he whines that he’s about to finish, you pull your head back and stroke him only one more time before he’s spilling onto his stomach, carefully watching as his warm cum pools on his abdomen and some of it trails down the side, staining the couch. not that it’s the first time that’s happened, but no one needs to know that. you look up at him and smile as he tries to catch his breath, but it doesn’t help when you lean down and lap up every single bit of his cum because it’d be a shame to have it go to waste. once he’s clean, you shift up to finally kiss him and he very adorably cups your face and makes out with you, moaning as he tastes himself on you <3

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allmyotherotps · 2 months ago

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Chapter 14 of Three is up! Read it here.

❤️

Jamie helps me up, and I’m thankful because my back aches from being bent over the kitchen counter. I almost lose my balance, my knees still shaky, but Jamie’s steady hand on my upper arm supports me. Out of breath, I turn to face him. He has tucked himself back into his shorts, his skin flushed and his lips swollen. I reach out for him, putting my arms around his neck. Resting my forehead against his collarbone, I press a kiss to his chest. His breathing matches mine, and he sighs, pulling me even closer to him.

We just stand there, our heart rates and breathing slowly returning to normal.

Finally, I look up at him.

“I must go home,” I say, my voice shaky.

#outlander #claire beauchamp #claire fraser #jamie and claire #jamie fraser #ao3 #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #jamieclaire #update #nc 17 #smutty fanfiction #smut #But there is a plot too #angst #coming up

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lilmissnatcat24 · 7 months ago

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im writing a shakarian one shot that's actually so out of pocket im getting slightly ashamed with myself, please enjoy

When Shepard first left the Battery, door swooshing close behind her, leaving Garrus alone in what could only be described in a fugue state in a room that resembled less of a gun battery and more of a coffin-- the only thing he could think of was how in the world he was supposed to have sex with a woman without plates to protect their skin from his talons. Did she realize that? That she had such a thin epidermis that all he had to do was look at it sharply and it would rupture? Had she ever seen his talons? He knew the answer to that before he ever proverbially asked it in his own head: no. Of course she hasn’t seen your hands, he thought. That’s much too intimate for whatever it is that you and Shepard are. Maybe she’d back out if she saw them. Maybe she’d come to her senses. Or maybe, he’d shave them down for her. Garrus attempted to lean over his calculations once more on his console. All of the numbers on the screen blurred together, seemingly floating into the air around him and making him slightly motion sick. Or, it was possibly due to the fact that the only friend he had left in the galaxy just told him she wanted to fuck him. That potentially could have been it, too. He’d talk to Dr. Chakwas, get Shepard’s medical history. Maybe Cerberus undid a few of the screws she had left in her head. Or, maybe the Collectors were one big, elaborate cover for Cerberus. Maybe they just wanted to run tests on cross-species intercourse, and Shepard was the galaxy’s most expensive guinea pig. Despite it all, despite the disbelief, Garrus felt a warm sensation in his gut. It wasn’t heartburn or indigestion. It wasn’t a stomachache. It wasn’t anything that could be explained rationally. He ate the same exact thing every day, and unless Gardner decided to mix his rations up with the levos, he doubted that he was getting poisoned. It wasn’t until Garrus tried to touch his stomach did it flourish into something else entirely. It was arousal. He swallowed it down, suddenly horrified and disgusted with his own treacherous body. Was that all it took to get him going anymore? What was he, fifteen years old and fresh faced cadet in his first week of bootcamp? Had it been so long since he’d been with another person that even just the insinuation of sex turned him on?

#mass effect #mass effect fanfiction #mass effect fanfic #shakarian #garrus vakarian #shepard x garrus #ao3 fanfic #wip #dont look at me like that #i havent written a smutty one shot in too long #my bones are itching for some cross species intercourse

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virescent-v · 2 years ago

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Hey, can I request #92 pls. Maybe with a little angst but I’m leaving it to you🩷

hi hi hi, so sorry this took like...two weeks. life, ya know?

it started as something, and im not sure this is the angst you were really looking for (that really isn't my area of expertise i should work on that lmfao) but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Definitely Not Friends

Word Count: 2.7k+

Prompt: “friends don’t do this kind of shit”

Warnings: It's smutty, ya'll, but not my "normal" kind of smut

The repetitive nature of your ongoing…tryst with Emily was getting under your skin. It had all started off so innocently; just some casual flirtation between coworkers. Nothing that Derek and Penelope haven’t been accused of over the years. But before you knew it, you were spending more alone time with Emily than any of your other coworkers. Late night talks on the phone, dinners after long cases to unwind, Friday night movie nights, the list goes on.

At first, you didn’t think much of it. Just two coworkers who saw some terrible shit every day who got on well enough to lean on one another.

But then Emily started pushing the envelope.

A brush across your shoulders as she was passing by. A squeeze of your hand before getting out of the SUV to catch a killer. Eye contact that lasted just a little too long. A lip bite that made your breath catch.

Innocent enough things that you convinced yourself you were just imagining them.

But then one night after a gut wrenching case, she kissed you.

She had driven you home from the airport after getting back from a two week case in Minnesota. It was well after midnight, you could barely keep your eyes open, and you couldn’t figure out if you wanted to spend the rest of the night crying, eating your feelings in ice cream, or sleeping for the next six days.

She walked you to your door, nothing out of the usual. You looked at her before going inside to say goodbye, but she engulfed you in the best hug of your life. Her arms around you were strong. Supportive. You could feel your whole body melt into hers.

You’ve never felt more safe.

When you pulled back a little to look at her, your eyes caught and you tried to convey everything you couldn’t find the words for. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

And then, she kissed you and she ran.

You stood stupefied on your porch, watched her get back into the unmarked SUV before speeding off into the night.

You didn’t talk to her for three days.

At work, she acted like everything was normal.

You couldn’t bring yourself to bring it up because you weren’t even sure what it was. Was it just a comfort thing? Did she have feelings for you? You couldn’t tell. Emily was so hard to read on a good day, let alone when your head was all over the place.

A few days passed and it had seemed like everything went back to normal. You talked every day, had gone to a few meals together, and she came over for a movie night.

Except this movie night was different, too.

She was wearing a skimpier set of pajamas. A loose fitting tank top and the shortest pair of shorts you had ever seen. You knew for a fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra because her nipples were visible through the material. You weren’t sure how she hadn’t caught you staring.

She sat closer to you on the couch than normal, too. Your sides were basically joined from shoulder to thigh. You could feel her warmth radiating from her to you, the nervous excitement making your body heat up even more in return.

Again, you weren’t sure what was happening, but you were going to roll with it. The unknowing was thrilling in itself.

Emily fell asleep halfway through whatever romcom you had put on, her head on your shoulder, her hand lazily resting on your thigh.

You were too nervous to move, your breaths short as not to jostle her.

You’re pretty sure you could die happy on this couch with Emily’s head resting on you.

It was almost the end of the movie when Emily shuffled in her sleep, her head moving towards the crook of your neck, her hand traveling dangerously close to the apex of your thighs. You could feel the heat erupt through your body, your stomach starting to twist into knots. You knew you should probably wake her, get her into your guest bed, and go to sleep. But you were enjoying her being this close too much.

You could feel her breath against the side of your neck, the little puffs of air almost tickling. She grunted in her sleep, her hand tightening around your thigh, her nose nuzzling against you as she let out a sexy little “mmhmm.”

Your mind immediately went to the gutter and you could only imagine her making that sound as she ground her hips against yours in your bed.

You pressed your thighs together to stop the zoom of arousal that shot through you. You barely suppressed the moan that wanted to tumble from your lips.

You finally gained the courage to wake her and get her to the guest room. Sleepy Emily was one of your favorites; she turned almost incoherent and klutzy and it was maybe the cutest thing you’d ever seen.

As you were pulling the sheets up around her, she all but dragged you into the bed with her. She got you settled under the covers and immediately cuddled into you, making you into the little spoon. Again, you could feel her breath on your neck, her hand lazily drawing patterns on your upper thigh and hip.

You felt yourself freeze as she sleepily mumbled, “Stop overthinking it. Go to sleep.”

You woke up the next morning and she was already gone.

Your life with Emily continued on like this for a month. Little things would happen that would make you question your relationship to her and then she’d act as if nothing happened and that you two were just really good friends.

It was making your mind spin, giving you a constant headache.

You were almost fed up with the constant see-sawing, ready to talk to her about what was happening, when you two first fell into bed together.

Another bad case, a late night out at the bar with everyone, and too many shots of tequila.

You woke up the following morning with a pounding headache, a dry mouth, and fuzzy memories of the night before. All you could remember was the smell of her signature perfume, the feel of lips on skin, and sore muscles.

You probably would’ve written it off, thought it was just your overactive imagination if it hadn’t been for the rather large bite mark on the inside of your thigh.

You could feel your cheeks heating up in embarrassment, especially since the memories were still alluding you. You probably would’ve tried to write it off as a random hook up if it hadn’t been for the fact that Emily had woken up in bed beside you, an almost matching bite mark against her collarbone.

This time, it was a little harder to write off what had happened. Especially since you were both naked.

You could feel your mouth opening and closing like a fish, an almost panicked look in your eyes.

Emily cleared her throat. “Wanna get breakfast?”

You were never more appreciative and pissed for her nonchalant attitude.

“Sure,” you said, a sudden burst of confidence hitting you as you got out of bed to head to the bathroom without worrying about covering up.

You’re pretty sure you heard Emily gasp as you closed the bathroom door, a little victorious smirk playing at your lips.

Again, you two never talked about what happened.

It almost seemed like a game. How many days you two could go before stumbling into one of these moments together.

You made it thirty-six hours without snuggling on the couch for a movie.

You made it thirty-seven hours without Emily’s hand finding your thigh.

You made it eighty-eight hours without her kissing you after a night out.

You made it one hundred and fourteen hours before she was back in your bed.

Except this time, you were both sober.

You had almost gotten yourself killed. Not on purpose, just a run in with one of the many psychopaths you deal with at work. Wrong place, wrong time kind of thing.

But after he’d been placed in cuffs, Emily had this absolutely feral look in her eyes. Uncaged. Like she was seconds away from combusting.

She drove you home. Like always. But the entire ride was silent.

You made it into your apartment, the door barely closed behind you before she exploded. “What the fuck were you thinking?” She shouted.

It made you take a step back. She’d never raised her voice at you before. Emily was breathing heavily, her chest heaving, her fists clenched at her sides.

You were sure you looked scared, befuddled, bewildered. You couldn’t even process quick enough to say anything before she continued.

“You almost got yourself killed! He had you pinned to the fucking floor! There’s bruises along your arms from where he touched you!” At this point, you could see Emily almost vibrating with her anger. But you were fairly certain she wasn’t actually angry. At least you hoped not.

“I can’t believe you would be so reckless to walk into a building alone! You knew what he was capable of! How sneaky he’s been! But you didn’t care!” Emily started pacing around the floor, her eyes wild, but focused on her hands, her fingers twisting around each other.

You could feel your own misplaced anger starting to race through your veins. “I knew what I was doing! I had cleared the room! I don’t know how he got the jump on me, but how on earth is that my fucking fault, Emily? We split up, like we do to cover the premises, and I drew the short end of the stick!” You let out a breath. “Why are you blaming me? Blame him!”

She spun around to face you, her nostrils flaring. “I am! But I’m also blaming you!”

You rolled your eyes, tossed your hands up,” Why? What did I do? Why are you mad at me and yelling at me?”

“Because you didn’t wait for me!”

Your eyes caught Emily’s. Beneath the anger, beneath her guarded shell, you could see the fear in her eyes. The realization that something worse than a couple of bruises could have happened.

You tried to open your mouth, say something, but before you could, Emily muttered a quick “fuck it” before crossing the room to you, crushing her lips to yours.

Before you knew it, clothes were scattered along the hallway to your bedroom.

Emily tossed you back onto the bed, her body quickly making its way between your thighs. You quickly wrapped your legs around her waist, dragging her closer to you, tangling your hands in her hair as you brought her down for another heated kiss.

Emily broke away from you, trailing her lips down the side of your neck, quickly finding the spot behind your ear that made you moan out loud. She spent a considerable amount of time there, making sure to leave her mark before moving lower down your throat, kissing across your collarbones, and down between the valley between your breasts.

She wasted no time wrapping her lips around your turgid peak, taking satisfaction in the way it made you fist the sheets below you in your hands. She made sure to give the same attention to the other nipple, her hand making sure to not leave the opposite one alone for long.

Emily could spend hours giving your breasts the attention they deserved, but she was almost as impatient as you seemed to be, so she kept making her way down your body, finding the sweet spots that made you whimper or sigh, making note of them for later.

You could feel how wet you were already, but with Emily between your legs, you couldn’t get any friction to help the ache that was building.

“Em, please,” you whispered, almost embarrassed by how much you needed her. The build up from all of the times she was just a little too close, the lingering touches, and even the thought of the last time you two fell into bed together (even though you unfortunately don’t remember much of it). It was driving you crazy.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ve got you,” she smirked at you before swiping her tongue through your wetness.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, your eyes rolling back a little, one of your hands shooting down to her hair to keep her there.

Emily ate you out as if her life depended on it, as if she could spend the rest of her life between your legs. She took her time to explore every inch of you, figuring out what moves made you whine, which ones made your entire body shudder, and what made you grip her hair harder.

It didn’t take long for you to climb towards the edge of your orgasm, but before you could fall over, Emily stopped and pulled away from you.

The gasp, the outrage on your face almost made Emily laugh out loud. “I love being friends with you,” she snickered at you, a taunting glint in her eyes.

“Friends don’t do this kind of shit,” you scoffed, flabbergasted at Emily’s ability, even with your juices all over her face, to ignore what was happening between you two.

You could feel Emily pause, her body tight, afraid to move. She didn’t expect you to lash out, and she could tell you weren’t really happy with her, upset with her disregard of everything.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her hands finding purchase on your hips, her thumbs rubbing back and forth a little. “I never knew how to…address this,” she shrugged.

You nearly laughed at how small she looked, unable to make eye contact with you. She didn’t have an issue with having her mouth on your pussy two minutes ago, but now she couldn’t look you in the eye.

“A conversation would’ve been a good place to start, Em. You made me feel like I was going crazy.”

Her eyes finally caught yours and you could instantly tell that she really did feel sorry. Feelings just weren’t her thing. Before she could apologize again, you cut her off, “We can talk about it after you finish fucking me, Emily.”

You watched her demeanor transform to something hungrier, cockier, feral. “Yes ma’am,” she mockingly saluted before connecting her lips to yours again, trying to convey everything that she was feeling.

Her hand traveled down from your hip, stilling at the apex of your thighs, silently asking for permission. You nodded against her, your lips still connected in a heated kiss.

She teasingly stroked your warm, wet pussy with her hand, gathering your juices on her fingers. She pulled back from your kiss, watching your expression as she slowly thrusted two fingers inside of you.

You tried to keep eye contact with her, but after the build up of all of the little moments between you, it felt so good to finally have her inside of you. Emily slowly built up to an almost punishing pace, something fast, and hard, and exactly what you needed. Her fingers curled at just the right angle to hit that spot inside of you that made your toes curl and your breath hitch.

Emily’s other hand made contact with your straining clit, rubbing tight, little circles to match her thrusts. You could feel yourself rushing towards that edge again, a breath away from letting go.

“Come on, pretty girl. Let go for me.”

Your release hit you like a freight train, your back arching off of the bed, your mouth open in a silent scream. You felt your muscles tense, the euphoria washing through you, before letting go and relaxing as Emily fucked you through your orgasm. You tried to catch your shallow breath, a light sheen of sweat across your flushed skin, before looking at Emily, your hands starting to dance across her skin.

Emily’s own hands caught yours, catching the questioning look in your eyes. She kissed both of your palms before tangling your fingers together. “Later, baby. We should talk first.”

Those words would usually cause a rush of panic to course through your blood, but something about the way that Emily was looking at you put you at ease.

You took a deep breath, smiling a little at her, kissing her hands in return. “Yeah, we should.”

She smiled back.

And she didn’t run.

#virescent v fanfic #prompt fill #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss fanfiction #no use of y/n #ask v!#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #sorry if this isnt angsty or smutty enough lmfao i wanted to just write something to spark the motivation to write again #also this was edited by me reading it once so if theres mistakes im sorry for that too lolol

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turnupswritessometimes · 2 years ago

Text

Just for This Moment - SidLink - Oneshot

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50834488

Title: Just for This Moment

Ship: Link/Sidon (Legend of Zelda)

Word Count: 5,253

Summary: Link turned, feeling as though he was stuck in honey, to look at him. He had to keep staring, his chest hurting, until that grin slowly dropped. Until Sidon tilted his head to one side, and his tone became concerned, "What is the matter?" Link bit his lip. They didn't have time for this, not with everything else happening – everything else was so much more important. And yet, his stomach felt twisted in and around itself, and if he fought like this, he would make a mistake. So, he forced his hands to move. To sign out 'Are you avoiding me?'

Before, Link and Sidon were - something. Now - they're not. They both have feelings about that.

They stood in front of the four great jugs at the temple. One emptied a torrent of gleaming water; the others dripped sludge. There were four more locks to open; to save the domain. The domain was suffering, the Zora was suffering; Zelda was missing; Hyrule was suffering. Link needed to move. He had to stop this, and save everyone.

But he couldn't.

He stood, rooted to the ground, water dripping from his hair down the back of his neck, and under his amrour.

"Let's go, my friend."

It was Sidon, next to him. Perky and grinning and already looking around him for the first lock.

Link turned, feeling as though he was stuck in honey, to look at him. He had to keep staring, his chest hurting, until that grin slowly dropped. Until Sidon tilted his head to one side, and his tone became concerned, "What is the matter?"

Link bit his lip. They didn't have time for this, not with everything else happening – everything else was so much more important. And yet, his stomach felt twisted in and around itself, and if he fought like this, he would make a mistake.

So. he forced his hands to move. To sign out 'Are you avoiding me?'

Sidon followed. Blinked, as though he was stuck in the same honey Link was. "Why would you think that?"

Link tilted his head to the side, his hands on his hips. He was very aware a chuchu was behind them, rolling towards them, and he’d have to deal with it soon.

His hands moved slightly faster. 'You wanted to split up?'

"It was sensible, to cover more ground." And yet, Sidon wasn't meeting his eye. He stared at Link's hands.

'You—' Link faltered. The chuchu was getting closer. Its wobbles were audible, and irritating. 'Didn't want to investigate together.'

"I needed to stay, to purify the water."

‘Others could have.'

"I have a duty to the Zora. My people."

The chuchu was even closer now. Was bubbling and rearing, getting ready to attack. Not really a threat. Yet, Link was growing more and more frustrated, his fingers moving erratically, the frustration in his stomach growing.

He reached behind him, drawing the Zora spear he'd burrowed from the city. He spun, lashing out, swinging it down to whack the chuchu. It burst satisfyingly under the silver.

Link forced himself to take a breath. Sidon had drawn his own weapon, looking between Link and the remains of the chuchu. Confused.

Link put his own weapon back, to free his hands. They shook, and he hated that. But he needed to continue: 'You have a fiancee.'

They stared at each other. There was only the sound of rushing water. A distant cry of seabirds. Everything smelt like fresh rain. The air was cold up here, but Link's cheeks felt hot. He clenched his fists, taking a breath, ready to turn around and start finding one of the locks. If he fought, concentrated on using the powers his new arm gave him; then he couldn't sign. They couldn't talk. That would be better.

Sidon took a step towards him, which felt like approaching thunder. Link stepped a foot backwards, ready to run, or ready to fight.

"I thought—" Sidon seemed to be choosing his words carefully. Clenched and unclenched his own hands on his own spear. "You already knew the Zora custom of arranged marriages."

Link had, of course. But back before all of this, it had felt like a faraway thing. He'd been able to kid himself that it wouldn't really happen. That he had more time.

He had lost so much time. Again.

His arm hurt. Not his actual arm, but the one that was missing. It was a peculiar feeling, to feel something that had already been replaced. But he felt the pain of his own, beneath it, especially when it was cold, like this.

His heart was racing. He wanted to fight something. Needed to fight something, to stop himself thinking about this.

He forced his fingers into words. 'I know.'

"You were gone for weeks." Sidon took another step forward. "You were missing."

Link's hands shook. Too much to keep signing. He looked up. His hair hung in his eyes, but he didn't care. Only met Sidon's eyes through the strands. They were concerned and confused, but mostly sad; betraying everything he felt.

He wasn't sure his sign of 'I know,' was even legible this time. It was foolish to even try explaining further. That he knew the Zora used arranged marriages, that he knew he had gone missing again, that he didn't want to keep disappearing.

That he had known – knew – whatever relationship they had before could never amount to anything, because he was a Knight, Sidon was a Prince.

It was a familiar story. A too familiar one. Because everyone he’d ever loved was royalty.

He was trapped in a story where he could only ever love from afar. It sounded romantic in poems.

A hand grazed his shoulder. He flinched, involuntarily. The hand stayed, as a reassuring weight.

"My friend – Link – I am a coward." Sidon’s voice softened. "I did avoid you, because I was scared of facing you, especially about this. About Yona. I knew it would hurt you."

It did, but did it hurt Sidon as well?

How could Link ask that, especially now, when they were trying to save a kingdom. He was selfish to ask. What were his own feelings compared to Hyrule. He tugged at his scabbard, to feel the weight of his borrowed sword. To remind him of what he was doing here, and what he needed to do. It steadied his hands enough that he could sign again.

'I understand.' He thought about apologising, for bringing it up with everything that was happening. Instead, he signed, 'We need to find those switches.'

Sidon stared for another long moment, examining Link's expression. Could he see behind the mask of determination and practically? Of course Link was hurt; he still cared. And he wanted Sidon too, as well. What had happened between them wasn't insignificant; not something to be ignored.

He held those amber eyes – those eyes that always seemed pinned him like a butterfly – for a moment more, before he turned away. Sidon called after him. Link walked more determinedly, tugging out his sword. That was the useful part about talking with his hands; if they were full, he couldn’t communicate. It put an end to this conversation.

Perhaps that made him as much a coward as Sidon was.

It had started after liberating the Vah Ruta. Link had stayed in the Zorra domain on his return from the elephant. Directly afterwards, of course, he'd slept for twelve hours straight in a waterbed. Waking up from that hadn't been dissimilar from waking up after one hundred years.

The world was dark. It was after midnight, and he filled his empty stomach with stew, fruit and honey cakes, before going down to one of the pools. He’d washed the blood from his injuries, but his muscles ached for a good soak.

The bathing pools were beautiful, at night. The silver moonlight cast a halo over the water; glinted off the silver rails of Zora's domain. The sea snails clung to the inside of the pools, like shooting stars that had fallen to earth.

And even more beautiful, thought Link, was the Zora prince emerging from one of the pools. Sidon looked up the ceiling, and sighed. Silver water dripped down smooth skin; dark in the low lighting.

Then he noticed Link, at the edge of the pool. His amber eyes glinted in the moonlight, fangs flashing.

Link’s heart thudded. The Zora Prince had grown handsome, in these last hundred years. It felt impossible to ignore that. He stood here now, remembering how it had felt to ride on his back; feeling strong muscles clench under him. Hearing Sidon’s voice shouting words of encouragement that made him feel like the hero he most certainly wasn’t. (Not anymore.)

"Link – my friend—" Sidon insisted on addressing him like that, as though 'my friend' was a valued position at court. "I feared we'd lost you, once more."

Link found himself smiling. It was easier to smile down at the marble floor, than to think too much about the water trickling down Sidon's bare chest. He signed 'I'm alright. Just tired.'

"Very tired, it seems." Sidon moved through the pool. Getting closer. Link wished he wouldn't, because it would be harder to ignore him; to ignore the heat beginning to grow through his core; ignore that he wanted to stare at the Zora prince, like a fish on a hook. But he also wanted to be closer; was desperate to be closer. "I am glad you are feeling better now - I have so much I wish to show you, now the rains have stopped."

Link could not look up. He could hear the drip from Sidon's fins on the marble. Surely, he was smiling that bright, easy smile; his eyes glinting; ready to take Link by the hand to lead him around. Perhaps even offer to swim with Link on his back, again. His heart seized, just at the thought. If he looked up, he would surely take the offer.

'I have to leave.'

"Surely not." Sidon's hand reached for his, grazing the back of his with his claws, before Link caught shifted away, subtly. That would only make these feelings worse. "I am aware of the dire situation over the rest of Hyrule, but surely you may stay another day. At least until the morning."

It would be easier, to leave now, before anyone knew. It would make this easier. It would make him think less about Sidon, with his muscled arms, muscled stomach, his bright smile - the way his silver jewellery sat on his crimson, smooth skin.

Link shook his head, taking half a step back. His fingers were poised to repeat the signs that he had to go, but Sidon did catch his wrist, that time. Just lightly. He could pull away, if he wanted to.

He should.

He let himself be caught.

"Please, wait until the morning." Sidon's voice was soft, half as though he didn't want to wake anyone else – half as though it was just for Link's ears. "If only so you are not ambushed by stakoblins."

Link looked up, through strands of gold, finally meeting those amber eyes. They were concerned, the polite concern of a friend; but there was something else, underneath. Something deeper. Something that could be desire, as he looked over Link.

Link's breath stuck in his throat, as though he had been hit. There was still that steady dripping from Sidon's bare skin; sea snails casting stars in this private cavern of theirs.

He looked to where Sidon's hand circled his wrist. Bigger than his own, and yet – so gentle.

Link nodded.

Sidon's voice remained soft, "Splendid!"

He took Link's hand in both of his own, squeezing gently. Link couldn't sign properly, with one of his hands trapped, but that was better, in a way. It meant he didn't need to think about what words to use. He put his own over Sidon's. Nodded again, staring upwards. Bit his lip.

Noticed Sidon watching that, his eyes flashing like a shark's.

There was a moment that like it was ready to burst like a ripe berry. Link took a shaking breath, his feet aching to arch onto tiptoe.

Sidon released his hand. Abruptly. Took a step to the side, and said, hurriedly, "But, of course, you wanted to use the pools. I shall not bother you."

'It's no bother.' His hands worked quickly. 'You can stay.'

Another pause that was bursting with - this something. This something that had steadily grown since they'd met, since they'd fought alongside each other, this something that Link wouldn’t allow himself to look at.

"I do not wish to impose." And yet Sidon had not moved.

'Stay.' Link signed. He didn't look away and didn’t let himself think. 'Please.'

So, Sidon stayed. And Link wished he hadn't insisted, when he shed his quiver and sword belt, lying them on the marble. When he was working on loosening his wrist guard, and was all too aware of Sidon watching him.

No. Pretending not to watch him. His eyes darted away when Link glanced across.

His stomach squirmed, and yet he found his mouth twitching. He felt giddy that he wasn't the only one nervous. Not the only one aware of this.

Link pulled off his boots, leaving them in a heap next to his weapons and armour. His hands too oddly light, as he moved them, 'We can share the pool.'

As though there were not three. They didn't have to share the one. But sharing the one meant they would be close.

Sidon's voice was faint. "Very well."

And he stepped back into the water, almost gingerly. Let the silvery water envelop him again.

That was easier.

Link shrugged his tunic, his mail, his undershirt, off. The air was cool, almost moist against his bare shoulders and chest. He hesitated a moment, before stepping out of his trousers too. After all, without a belt, they weren't much use.

Then there was nothing else. He slipped into the water, and felt goosepimples burst across his skin. It was cold, but the cold was welcome on his flushing cheeks and chest.

He had to keep an elbow on the side to keep himself comfortably above water; the pool was too deep for him to stand properly in. He rested his chin on his arm, and pretended not to be staring at Sidon. At how the moonlight made his profile look; the shape of his dorsal fin. He looked like a prince.

Sidon pretended not to be looking at Link, in return. He didn't want to think about what he looked like; at how visible the scars lacing across his stomach and shoulders were – did they also shine silver?

"My sister—" Sidon paused. "You and my sister, I understand you were close?"

Link's stomach clenched. He pressed his lips together, an aching pain washing through him, as he thought of Mipha. The feelings were all fresh and raw. His fingers hovered, as though they were reluctant to sign.

'We couldn't act on how we felt.' The water lapped at him, punctuating the silence. 'She was a princess, and I was – am – a knight.'

Their relationship could not happen. Mipha would not let it. She was a future ruler, and would always act like one. It was refined to letters and longing stares. Refined to afternoons together, to hands grazing and imagining something more. Probably because imagining left the idea of the romance perfect; something from a poem.

"Of course." Sidon ducked his chin, and his jewellery sparkled like stars. "That's understandable."

'I miss her,' Link continued.

"As do I." There was another one of those pauses. Sidon shifted closer, in the water, and a drip from his fin fell in the water between them. It felt loud. "But I have had longer than you to mourn."

It still hurt. All of the friends he'd lost left a raging wound inside him. If he thought about it - them - for too long, then he would sink to the ground and be unable to fight. He allowed himself a measured sigh, then tugged the tie from his hair. He let it fall, just grazing the water, before pushing his hair back.

Sidon shifted even closer, and Link did the same. Found himself taking Sidon's arms, just for something to hold on to. And Sidon stiffened under him, but didn't pull away. In fact, his hands twisted, to hold Link in return. A reassuring hold.

He pressed himself closer. Even without the hundred years of sleep, it had been a long time since Link had been close to someone. Had been held by someone. He missed that feeling. His palms trailed up Sidon's forearms, his gaze watching the moonlight on his pale chest. His skin was smooth, and warm. His heart raced.

Sidon's hand curled under Link's chin, gently tilting it upwards. He was examining him, with awestruck eyes. He moved again, very slowly, brushing Link's hair from his cheek. His claw grazed the shell of his ear, and sent a tingling shiver down the side of his neck.

"You are beautiful," Sidon murmured. "Link."

And the way Sidon said it made him believe it. He barely dared to breathe, but tilted his cheek into Sidon's touch. Did dare to touch his fingertips against Sidon's chest. This something was on the very verge of bursting, of overflowing, and he didn't think he could stop it now. Not now that he’d lost his armour.

He pressed his other hand against Sidon's forearm, pulling himself further out the water. It ran off his hair, down his back. He was fixated by those amber eyes – by the suggestion of fangs in Sidon's mouth – by Sidon's mouth. Kissing someone. Someone allowing him to kiss them.

Sidon caught Link's waist, to help his journey. Lifted him until he was a hair's breadth away, and then paused.

Link continued. Kissed Sidon, and felt that something between them burst. It was a warm, exciting something, that sent sparks to chase away the goosebumps. And it was easier to focus on that than the hurt inside him.

When they pulled away, Sidon whispered, "We were discussing my late sister."

Link pulled away enough to look at him, his hands settling on Sidon's shoulders. He raised his eyebrows and nodded. Trying to convey the complicated feelings in him with that look. He knew. He mourned her. He needed to be touched. To feel something other than grief. Needed to act on this, whilst he was allowed.

Perhaps Sidon understood. He searched Link's eyes, then focused on his mouth. He pulled him close again, kissing him gently – gingerly. As though he would break. Link kissed him more forcefully in return. He wrapped his legs around Sidon's waist, opening his mouth against him.

He felt warmth, thawing him from the inside out. Felt Sidon's hand in his hair, tangling it in his fingers, his other hand firm on the small of Link's back. A fang caught his lip, not quite breaking skin, but enough to send a shiver through him.

That was how it – they – began.

Link didn't sleep that night. Neither of them did. They stayed wrapped up in each other; entangled; entwined. When the sun began to rise, turning the silver to gold, and the horizon to gold, they sat and watched the sky from the pool room. Sidon leant against a pillar, with Link in his lap, his cheek against Sidon's smooth chest. Sidon's arm was around him, and their legs tangled together. He could hear Sidon’s heartbeat under his ear; reminding him they were both alive. He loved that sound.

"Can we act on this?" Sidon asked. His voice was soft, and it made Link think of the sounds he had made whilst they had been entangled. The low keens that sent sparks through him. "Have matters changed enough to allow for this?"

Link took a moment to answer. Traced another pattern over Sidon's forearm, before he sat up properly, to sign.

'It's your decision.' Because Sidon was the prince. It was his reputation; his father who would take issue. Because Sidon had everything to lose, and Link was just a knight. 'The court may not approve.'

Sidon caught Link's hands. They were trembling, he realised. Because surely this couldn’t happen. But Sidon was smiling. A beautiful smile, in the dawn.

"Then the court do not need to know, my dear."

It made Link grin, like he was struck by a shooting star, and he squeezed Sidon's fingers in return, almost giggling. He ducked his chin, but it was caught. He was led back to looking at those warm, amber eyes. Eyes like a bonfire.

Sidon opened his mouth to say more, but whatever it was didn't make it past his lips. He leant forward, instead, and kissed him. His lips stung; a few cuts had been left in their wake. It was the same kind of sting from bathing wounds in salt water; it felt purifying.

So he kissed Sidon back.

And it seemed wonderful.

Now, Sidon was king.

Sidon was king, and Link had stood at his side during the ceremony. On a balcony that overlooked the statue of the two of them; with a ring on his finger that showed their bond. But he wasn’t Sidon’s fiancée.

She stood next to him.

They'd saved the domain, again – had fought side by side, again, would likely have a statue built, again. And things would go back to the way they were before. Professional. Link was an ambassador, an advisor, a knight of the realm, sworn to Princess Zelda’s side, whilst Sidon was king of the Zora.

So things wouldn't go back to the way there were before this latest calamity, because Sidon had to rule. With his fiancée. Another aspect that wasn't the same.

He could not have an affair with a knight.

Link smiled and clapped and bowed at the right times in the ceremony. Smiled when Sidon's fiancée, Yona, took his hand and said, "I'm so happy, aren't you, Sir Link?"

She had his hands in her grip, so he couldn't use words. He could only nod. Sidon was determinedly not looking at him. Avoiding him, again.

There was, of course, a huge celebration, over the whole domain. A great feast with music and dancing and displays of skill. All Link really wanted to do was sleep and wait a few days for his wounds to stop aching quite so much, before he moved on. It was clear that whatever they had before was over. But he had to attend this, as a final farewell. So he stood by the silvery rails, in his reclaimed armour, trying not to collapse from exhaustion.

Yona found him there. She smiled. "I must thank you again, for helping us. For helping Sidon. You gave him the courage to take his spot as King."

Link looked over at Sidon. Taller, even than the other Zora, the moonlight glinting from his crown, and his fangs. He was laughing, conversing congenially. Like a comet had landed in the middle of the domain.

'It is my duty,' Link's hands replied for him. Smiling felt like too much effort, but at least that made him seem solemn, and serious. Like a knight of Hyrule should be.

"Of course." Yona dipped her head. "But you're so busy, with searching for the princess…"

They had seen Zelda, at the temple. The Zora had seen her. She'd seemingly been behind the pollution. It didn't make sense, and it wasn't the only strange event she seemed to be behind. Link saw Zelda everywhere, but was no closer to finding her.

'Zelda would want me to help those who need it,' Link signed. And that was true. Whatever else was happening, she would want him to help everyone else first. Zelda would wait. She always did.

"Yes, I'm sure." Yona still smiled, and her voice was soft. "I hope you find the princess soon."

Link nodded his gratitude. He didn't like to think too much about the larger situation; about the days which were slipping by without her. It was worse than knowing she was waiting for him at the castle. Instead, she was everywhere and nowhere and his stomach twisted into tourniquets if he truly thought things through. It made him want to dash out on his horse now and keep searching, but his body needed rest.

Sidon noticed them, of course, and his gaze was measured. Didn't linger on either his fiancée, or on Link. Smiled at them both. Took both their hands, but kissed Yona's knuckles, whilst only squeezing Link's. Yona was "my dear," and Link, "my friend," said with the same amount of measured warmth.

He was much too good at this, Link thought – much too good at communicating with both fiancée and – whatever Link was. Whereas Link could barely look Yona in the eye. She was much too nice and much too sincere.

Sidon danced with Yona, to sighs and claps and shining smiles. A perfect couple.

Link leant against the rails, and half-dozed. Until Sidon reappeared in front of him, amber eyes shining like jewels, and offering his hand. Link's hands moved jerkily: 'I can't dance.'

Not at all. He could fight; he was born to fight, and it was as natural as breathing to him, but when he tried to dance, he became a muddle of clumsy limbs. King Rhoam had used him as a partner for Zelda for all of one day before he realised Link was a hindrance, than a help. Since Zelda's return, she'd occasionally pull him to his feet by the fire, and insist on trying the latest trend with him. He'd stumble, clutching her hands for balance.

She'd only laugh at him.

Sidon smiled, now. "In fact, I was offering to show you to your chambers."

Link could have laughed. He was too exhausted. Instead he smiled and nodded. He grazed his palm over Sidon's, but didn't take his hand. There were appearances, now. How would it seem if the King of the Zora left his own coronation with the knight of Hyrule on his arm?

Link indulged in that fantasy; the fantasy that things could change.

It didn't happen. He doggedly followed Sidon from the festivities, through the chambers upon chambers of polished silver and marble, water sparkling as it flowed in waterfalls and fountains.

And, eventually - 'These are your rooms,' Link signed.

"I am aware." Sidon's eyes gleamed. "If you wish to, you may stay here. It would be more comfortable, and more befitting of Hyrule's hero."

A rush of warmth went through Link's chest. He didn't know what this was, this time, or what it would lead to – if he even wanted something now Sidon had a finacee. But he didn’t. Just nodded, and allowed himself to be led to the water bed, sinking down into it. It felt like it would swallow him as surely as a like-like. He sighed so deeply that it hurt his ribs, and left his throat raw.

'Thank you.' Though he didn't know what he was thanking Sidon for. He let his hands fall to the water mattress, where they bounced, then landed still. His eyes were already half-closing.

He heard Sidon chuckle, which seemed like a lullaby. Felt clawed fingers brushed tangled hair from his face.

"I cannot permit you to sleep in your armour." Sidon's voice was as soft as his chuckle. The bed bounced, as he settled onto the end. Link made a sound in response. Lazily opened his eyes to watch Sidon lift his ankle and ease his boot free. And the other. His touch left sparks in its wake.

He raised his hips when Sidon's fingers found his belt. He tenderly eased it open, putting it all to one side, in the same pile as the boots. Lingered, palms over Link’s hips, and he felt a surge of desire. Lifted his chest as the same was done to his scabbard, running a palm up Sidon's arm. It was smooth and cool under his fingers.

They didn’t speak. They let their touches linger and their gazes speak for themselves.

One wrist guard was removed, with that same, gentle touch. Sidon took his other hand, then paused. He stared, at the dark skin, the malachite veins, the ridges of metal inherited from Raoru in the forms of rings and bracelets.

Link twitched his borrowed fingers. He could feel, numbly, through it. Could recognise that it was his, now, even if it didn’t feel like it was.

Sidon cradled it, as though he was still injured.

"I was aware you had new abilities, but I was not aware that was because…"

Link had to slip his fingers out of Sidon's grip, slowly, because he needed both hands to reply: 'I lost my arm, in the battle under the castle. This was—' How could he even put it? 'Given to me.'

"Oh." Sidon took the new hand again. "Oh, my dear friend."

A ball of emotion welled up in his throat, so large that he could barely breathe. He took Sidon's forearms, trailing his fingers down to his hands. Didn't quite take them, but just grazed his fingertips over Sidon's palms, swallowing painfully.

"Are you in pain?" Sidon asked, closing his fingers over Link's hands. He leant over him, seeming closer and closer. Link wanted him closer, he thought, if only so he didn’t feel alone. It was just like last time, when this begun – he didn’t want to be alone. He wanted to be held.

He shook his head. Couldn't help arching his back slightly, just to be closer to Sidon.

"I am sorry."

Link didn't want to think about it. He wasn't thinking about it. If he thought about it for too long, then he felt the pain of the demon-blight crawling up his arm. Then he felt about how strange it was to wake up with an arm that wasn't his. That his own arm was gone. That this was his arm, now. He'd lost one. Forever.

There wasn't time to get stuck on that, because then he'd feel so much. He wouldn't be able to continue on this quest; he wouldn't be able to find Zelda. He wouldn't be able to play the hero if he was lost in despair.

He shook his head at Sidon, his hair falling back into his eyes. He squeezed the hands that held his, with one of his own, and one borrowed hand. Watched Sidon's eyes soften, and a small, fond smile on his features.

Link's chest ached. He'd missed this. He wanted this – whatever they had before – he felt something with Sidon. Something they couldn't gain back, because of Yuna. Their chains had only tightened around them.

But Sidon leant closer. Leant over him until he could feel warm breath against his cheeks. His hands were pressed down, against the sheets, with tenderness. Link's lips parted of their own accord, anticipating a kiss.

It didn't come. Not to his mouth, at least, but to his forehead. Sidon placed his mouth there, paused, for a long moment. Then pressed his own forehead in the same spot.

"It is good to see you again," Sidon whispered, and there was another apology in his tone. His hand cupped Link's cheek, and he took a breath. Held it, swelling with emotion, his chest arcing up.

"Sleep well, my friend."

There was no further kiss.

Sidon pulled away. Claws catching on Link's shirt as he did, very slowly, as though he wanted to linger. The glint in his amber eyes suggested he did.

Link wanted to follow him. If he wasn't so tired – if he had more strength – he might have. Might have wrapped himself around Sidon and tugged him back down to the bed. Might have kissed every inch of smooth skin that he could. Might have bit down on him, leaving patterns and marks that showed he'd been there. That he'd staked his claim.

But he didn't have the strength. It already felt like he was sinking into sleep, trapped in his own body.

So Sidon left.

And Link stayed.

Before (!!), Link paraglided into the Zora Domain. He'd just fought the lynel on (!!). He'd needed the materials to upgrade his armour; needed to upgrade his armour to save Zelda.

Perhaps he was strong enough to save Zelda, now. He wasn't sure. But he knew that he couldn't chance it; not again; he had to be strong enough, without a doubt. If he could practice fighting lynels in preparation for fighting Calamity Ganon.

He landed just in front of Mipha's statue. It was almost midnight, and the stars shone on the stone of her. She practically glowed, like a Goddess statue.

Link let his arms fall, the paraglider fabric fluttering to the stone floor. He stared at her, that heavy feeling returning to his chest.

He had forgotten. When he was in the middle of battle, he forgot about the calamity, and forgot how many friends he'd lost. Forgot about Mipha.

Now that he'd stopped, Link felt exhausted. He was covered in blood. It had dried in his hair, and up his bare arms. His thigh was bleeding; he heard the drip of blood on the floor.

The worst part was, he didn't mind forgetting. Forgetting felt easier. If he could fight, then he didn't have that pain in his chest. He didn't need to remember that he'd missed out on one hundred years; it was a miracle (!!) was still alive. Everyone else was…

That was why he wore the barbarian armour. It made him feel like a warrior; he could lose himself behind the skull he wore on his head. It wasn't like returning to being a knight; it made him feel more brutal, feral, animalistic. A creature just to attack and kill.

Now Mipha stared down at him, with her gentle gaze. The same gentle gaze she used to give him.

Link's wounds hurt. They stung. His chest felt heavy, and just as important. He blinked, and felt hot tears in the corner of his eyes.

"Link, my friend!" Sidon's voice sounded distant, like he was underwater. He heard his footsteps, as he ran towards him. "I saw you flying in."

Link forced himself to blink. To look away.

There were other Zoras. Only a few, but still a few that were staring at him, wide-eyed. It was only when Sidon said his name that they relaxed; as if they hadn't recognised him before. Now they had, they came forward too.

"Link?" Sidon paused, before him. It felt like an effort to turn his head back to him. "Are you alright?"

He blinked, and took a breath. Came back to himself, and tried to smile. Though, he didn't think that helped his case.

'I killed the lynel again,' he signed to Sidon. 'I know it bothers you.'

"Oh, thank you!"

"He really is a hero, huh?"

"Thank you, Link." Sidon bowed his head, his eyes softening. "But please do not trouble yourself. You must have bigger problems to worry about."

Link did smile, then. 'It's the least I can do.'

Because Mipha was dead. Because he needed lynel hooves and horns for his armour. Because he needed to fight so that he wouldn't feel anything.

"Thank you, Link!"

"How can we repay you?"

'I don't need anything,' he signed. But then, he glanced to Sidon. He thought about the last time he had stayed the night.

"Please, Link, you've come all this way."

"I'll let you have a waterbed for half price."

"No, that's alright," Sidon said. He held up his hands. "Link can stay in more luxurious quarters, tonight. I will take care of him."

Link met his gaze. He felt his gaze soften, as he nodded. There was a moment, where it felt like they were the only ones stood there. Link wanted to sink into that; did sink into that, as he allowed himself to be led away by Sidon. His hand was a heavy, reassuring weight on his shoulder.

He found himself returning to Sidon's rooms, with the silver starlight streaming through the windows.

Sidon turned to him, stopping him by placing both hands on his shoulders. Then cupped Link's face, turning it upwards.

"If I may? You push yourself too hard, Link."

He was probably right. But pushing himself too hard made him feel alive; kept him alive. He took Sidon’s wrists, and nudged them down, with a shrug. As though it was nothing. As though he really was the untouchable hero the rumours made him out to be.

‘I’m bleeding,’ he signed, instead. ‘Do you have any bandages?’

“Somewhere, I–“ It distracted Sidon. At least enough to send him searching in his cupboards, whilst Link limped to the bed. He sat on the edge of it, twisting his leg to see the damage. It was an angry gash on his thigh, half-clotted. Not too deep, he didn’t think, from the fact it had clotted at all. His arm stung with pain as well; he’d been caught there. He pressed down on the cut with the balls of his fingers, feeling the ache spread down his arm.

Sidon stepped back in front of him.

‘I’ve had worse,’ Link signed quickly. ‘This is fine. I just need to patch it up.’

“Of course.” Though Sidon didn’t look convinced. He handed the wooden box of supplies over, then knelt by the pool to fill a bowl with water. It was so fresh that it looked blue; like a child’s drawing. It was brought over to Link as though he was the prince. He signed a thank you, taking a cloth from the box and dipping it in the water. He cleaned the wound, wiping away the congealed blood. Cleaning the cloth by squeezing rust red from it, and into the pure water. And again, until he could see the clean cut in his skin. No, not as bad as he thought.

Sidon watched him work, silently.

Link smiled at him, as he dried his leg with a fresh cloth. His hands moved on instinct, adept at wrapping wounds now. He tied it, tightly, then begun on the cut on his arm. There were a dozen more grazes, he knew, and by tomorrow morning, he’d be covered in bruises. But for now, he wasn’t bleeding. He breathed out, and felt his ribs ache. Met Sidon’s gaze where he knelt before him.

‘I like being here,’ he signed, then realised that sounded so little for what he actually felt. He tried again. ‘Here feels like home.’

“Truly?” Sidon couldn’t keep the smile from his features. “I know Hyrule castle is…but not Kakariko village? Hateno?”

Link shook his head. He’d spent a lot of time in those places; he loved those places; those places were full of Hylians, like him. Maybe he used to feel home there, before it all. Now, they were mostly full of strangers, and he didn’t feel like he belonged there. He didn’t truly belong in the Zorra’s domain, either, he knew. But he did feel at home, here, in this room. This room made him feel like the ocean on a calm day. Drifting.

“Then, I am honoured.” Sidon dipped his head, as though bowing.

Link smiled. ‘It’s because of you.’

Then, before he could think too much, he slipped from the bed, leaving the medical supplies and the water there. He settled himself in Sidon’s lap, instead, a hand caressing his dorsal fin. It sent a blush across Sidon’s cheeks.

#sidlink #prince sidon #king sidon #loz #link #legend of zelda #breath of the wild #tears of the kingdom #totk #botw #fanfic #fanfiction #originally meant this to get smutty but i was too initimidated by sidons situation #probably going to write more #so follow for that #turnupswrites

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sabine-smitten-obviously · 4 months ago

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Good Omens - January reads part #1- fanfics recs 🤓🩷

Follow along for short summaries each month about the books i read🩷

I only read finished stories and rarely one-shots. You will find no WIPs in here. Also you will only find happy or at least hopeful endings here - i couldn´t handle anything else.

Also i try to find every author here on tumblr to link-to, but sadly some times i am out of luck. If you happen to know them, please tell them, write to me in the comments or DM me and i will update the post!

Ratings in ()

Multichapter Fanfics

1] Sky Clear Blue (E) by @klikandtuna

Human Au. It is the year 1804 and Azekiel is running a bookshop, but this folly is about to end, as he is obliged to marry the daughter of a pastor. Meanwhile in the year 2024 Crowley lives in a flat above a deserted shop. He can still read "A.Z. Fell, purveyor of the books" and is fascinated by it. And so sometimes he sneaks down in the empty place, until one day he finds a small handmade angel under the floorboards. And isnt it just a coincidence that Crowley likes to fiddle with a machine for timetravelling? 😉

It doesn't say in the tags but it feels a bit like a Dr. Who Crossover in the first chapters. This is a longfic of 749 pages that will decorate your mind. Brace yourself for some big emotions and quite a stretch of at least umcomfortable feelings and questions. Be brave, you will be rewarded. 🩷 Do make sure you read to the end!

One of the many most touching sentences: " He lives in the lilac wood of his own imagination, and he lives there all alone." 🦄

And incredibly there is also a song to one of the chapters, its a lullaby Azekiel sings for Crowley.

2] The two that got away (T) by @caedmonfaith

Aziraphale is alone at the pub, when a tall lanky ginger walks in - also alone. They start talking and decide to meet again there. But then the world goes crazy and lockdown starts. Years later, Crowley still thinks of the "angel", neither knowing his name, phone number or any further details. When Nina tries to set him up for a blind date, he stubbornly refuses. Good thing, that Nina and Maggie don´t let him get away with it. 😉

A sweet little christmas-story you can read every time of the year. I just love @caedmonfaith, you can seriously read everything from them and will always be in safe hands! 🩷

3] What are you doing on New Years Eve (T) by @thebookshoparoundthecorner

It is 1806, when Crowley and Aziraphale happen to be meet by chance on New Years Eve. The fic takes us through the years and tells about other New Years, including the ones after the end of S2. 🍀

4] Against all expectations (E) by @sixbynine

A/B/O & regency aera: Aziraphale/she/her is an Omega to be presented for marriage, but she has the least interest in finding a husband. So she sneaks away from the ball, but while trying to climb off the balcony, a strange Gentleman and Alpha even helps her to gather her dress and braid her hair.

A tale of unconventional thoughts and gender questioning, that had me googling for victorian paperweights and you"ll never guess why. 🤭

5] The trouble with beeing a demon (E) by @verdantvulpus

This fic is basically the answer to the question: if there are 2 Crowleys and 2 Aziraphales - how many different possibilities are there for them to enjoy themselves in bed (and also other places)? 🌶️🌶️🌶️ Felt Plot : Smut - Ratio = 1 : 9

Lovely quote: " There isn't a me that doesn't love Aziraphale."

6] The Grindr Logo Doesn´t Even have a 'G' in it (E) by @indieninja92

Set after S1, Aziraphale and Crowley are free to explore their friendship - or is it more? In the meantime Aziraphale is stumbling upon a fascinating but anonymous creature on Grindr for having online fun. 🌶️🌶️

I read this fic a while ago and while i was sick now, i listened to it in a great audiobook-adaption from @podfixx! Superhot no matter if you listen or read it, the shower-scene will live in my head rent-free forever.

Oneshots

7] Trust me (T) by @beet-feet

Set after S2, Crowley cant handle his broken heart and seeks a final solution... 😔

Mind the tags, but as always - a hopefull ending.

8] Keepsake (E) by @naromoreau

AU, Crowley is a fairy that likes to tease Aziraphale, who is a centaur. Well, that can't go without punishment any longer ... 🌶🌶🌶

Art by @golswia !

9] Christmas Traditions and all that (T) by @captainblou

Crowley wakes on christmas morning - alone. But only, because Aziraphale has a surprise for him. 🎅😉

Lovely quote: "If Aziraphale wasn't the first thing he'd see, and touch, and smell in the morning, then it wasn't worth waking up at all."

10] Animal Instinct (G) by @captainblou

Crowley returns to the bookshop after a day in hell and desperately needs to unwind. Though this time must have been especially awful, because when the angel returns with tea, Crowley is - gone?

Yes, i have subscribed to this author and so this is why you sometimes get more than 1 rec for her 😁

11] A little help from a fiend (E) by @mimsynims

Human AU - although not really. Aziraphale sumons a demon because he is in need of ... assistance. I can´t tell you more without spoiling it. You´ll never guess what kind of "payment" the demon is willing to accept. 😉 Had me downloading the follow-up multichapter-fic!

12] Submitted for your consideration (E) by @zehwulf

Crowley hires a professional dom - but when he opens the door and takes the other man in, he doubts this will ever work. Well - it will. Better than expected. 😁🌶️

Go ahead - spoil yourself, love yourself - and don´t forget your love for the authors, too! 🤗

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #ineffable husbands #fanfic #good omens fanfic rec #fanfiction review #fanfic rec #ao3 fanfic #good omens ao3 #ao3 #i read too much fanfiction #smutty fanfiction #i read my fanfics at night #thank your for your fanfiction!

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palabraasinnecesarias · 1 year ago

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if you stay i would even wait all night or until my heart explodes

ao3 | ff.net ship: ranma/akane rating: T+ words: 3,545

summary:

If there was anything Akane knew better than anyone in this world, it would have to be that Ranma’s insensitivity wasn’t on purpose. And it wasn’t that she wanted to justify the fool, she just felt that she had a better judgment when it came to pinpointing all his flaws, especially the ones that made him a jerk. Crushing on your childhood friend should be fine, as long as you don't act upon it, right? What happens when you do?

fair warning: it gets a bit smutty

God, he knew Akane was pretty, but right about now she looked so damn sexy.

Ranma’s gaze lingered at the way Akane was now filling up the kettle with tap water, her flustered cheeks’ blush overlying towards her conspicuous nose as she continued to spew senseless words out of her mouth, although her voice muffled in his ears. She wasn’t looking at him, concentrating on the task in hand as she continued talking about that idiot from earlier, riling him up in a way that it shouldn’t have. He shouldn’t be...jealous? Is this what that was? He wanted her to shut up about him, strip him out of her thoughts, push him as far away as possible from her radius.

His eyes scanned her curvaceous figure, relishing at the way her tight dress wrapped around, easily noticing her sleeve wasn't draped over her shoulder as it should have, slipping down, offering less to the imagination. He found himself concentrating on the very revealing skin of her back, making him wonder if she was as soft and silky as she seemed.

And he knew that this was Akane of all people, understood that she wasn’t some girl, but he wanted to touch her so bad. She was only centimeters away and all he needed to do was reach out and pull her towards him.

Ha hadn’t allowed himself to think twice at the idea of being so close to Akane, he didn't hesitate to shift towards her as though she was a gravitational pull he could no longer resist against. It wasn’t a struggle whatsoever. The young man was now standing behind her, hovering his hands over her upper arms, not quite touching her yet. The way she stiffened made him consider stopping – and maybe he would have if she had said so.

Her scent was glorious, her add on fragrance not helping his case, as her usual aroma already bewitched him effortlessly. Her hands had stopped moving, the half-filled kettle left abandoned along with all the other dishes, and he wished she’d say something, anything really. Even if it was to question his motives, demand that he step away, or else she’d smack him senselessly. But she didn’t speak a word, catching the way she hitched her breath in her throat, scrunching her eyes tight shut. He was also scared shitless about stepping over their boundary, knowing there was no going back. But what if he didn’t want to go back?

She wanted this, too, right?

His heavy hands went to rest on her shoulders, wincing at the way they tensed, observing how the nape of her neck scrunched in her nervousness. He could feel his hands flaring, each fingertip pressing onto her skin through the sheer sleeves of the dress. Ranma leaned down slowly – allowing her some time to push him away – but when she didn’t, he took the liberty to nuzzle at the back of her head, nudging his nose into her hair and inhaling so deeply it was audible.

She gasped softly, his hands trailing down her arm to settle at her elbows as he dragged his face towards the nape of her long neck, lazily skimming her skin with his lips, trying to control the urge of wanting to kiss her frenzy. She was warm, and soft like he knew she’d be.

“Akane,” he said to her, taking pleasure in the way her name rolled out his tongue through his gruff voice, finding himself nudging against the spot right behind her ear, his nose continuing to take in her scent profoundly. His palms were now dragging themselves about her body, leisurely over her belly and at the side of her hips, like a child with a treasure map in search of the world’s greatest riches.

She smelled delicious, mouthwatering, and God, did he want her.

He gently pressed himself against her, making it known that he was hard for her.

Akane gasped breathlessly at the way he positioned himself behind her, his erection compressed against her ass, indiscreet even through their layers of clothing. He pressed a kiss where her head met her shoulder, smirking nimbly at the way she shivered within his hold.

“R-Ranma,” Akane called bashfully, her voice a squeak and embarrassed, quiet as she bit down onto her lower lip when he lightly shoved himself against her. He loved the way she spoke his name, sounding righteous with each syllable, suddenly desperate to hear her say it again. And so, he reached for her earlobe, clasping it tenderly in between his teeth as he strengthened his grip around the young woman when her wobbly stance almost collapsed completely, her throat uttering a light whine. She needed to calm down, take a deep breath and relax.

“It’s okay,” he smirked knowingly, “I’ve got you.” Now, and forever, if she were to allow him to take care of her like he wanted to.

She nodded slowly, wanting to shake off her nerves to relish at how good his body felt against hers.

“Say my name again, ‘Kane,” he commanded her through his own strained voice, thrusting his hips against her ass once again, a stifle whimper escaping through her gritted teeth. Oh, God.

And when she didn’t obey right away, he shoved himself once more; this time she did moan, trying to quiet herself down, but her mind was turning into mush, her brain a slop of nothing but raging desire of what Ranma offered underneath his pants.

“Say it,” Ranma growled, desperate, his voice crisp and clear against her ear, ignoring the way she gasped when his hands began to tug at the hem of her dress until it scrunched up around her belly. His imprint was plenty more perceivable as he was now pressing against only her panties. His large hands roamed about her thighs, wincing from the searing pain provided by the drag of the tip of his fingertips against such sensitive areas.

“Ah,” she gasped again, not knowing if her beating heart would give out any moment now, but she submitted and called his name softly, hoarse, “Ranma...”

“Again,” he grunted, spreading his scorching palms about her ass a few times before he reached for the swell of her bum and squeezed.

She hitched a breath, “Ranma…”

“F-fuck,” Ranma huffed as he softly pressed her down, adjusting her body to lean forward against the counter, and without a coherent thought he pulled out his dick, fully erect and really hurting. He took a moment to admire the pale color on the pattern of her underwear as he pressed himself against her, never considering her to be the type to wear cutesy undergarments to begin with.

She was moaning a lot louder now, giving in completely as she willingly bent further, feeling the way Ranma’s hands took a sturdy hold of her hips, his nails digging deep as he gripped her tightly.

Even if he wasn’t inside her, she felt herself begin to tingle all around, her toes curling and her eyes rolling, embracing herself unable to stop herself from lifting her own ass.

He was reaching his end, he could feel it, thrusting against her as though he was actually fucking her, “’K-’Kane,” he grunted, loudly and desperately. He lowered his head and peppered wet kisses all about her back, smiling against her skin when she moaned softly, jolting her head back in mere pleasure. “I-I don’t think, ugh...I can hold it…” he huffed.

Her body shivered at the way Ranma’s shove began making her see colors through a hazy vision.

“Fuck, fuck, fuckkkk!”

“Ranma!” She breathed loudly, “Ranma! Ranma!”

continue reading in my ao3 or ff.net account

#this on is a little smutty but not...a lot #would full smutty be something ya'll would be interested in...or?? i really wanna know just to know how to steer this lol #this one is on the shorter side but i was kinda busy this week #pls let me know if ya'll are still interested in this fic but if not that's cool too #thanks for reading nonethless #akane tendo #ranma 1/2 #ranma fanfiction #ranma saotome #rankane #ranma akane #rankane fanfiction #fanfiction #palabrasinnecesarias

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