#wild-at-heart-kept-in-cage

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Thank you so much, glad you think so 🥰 Jay and Frankie are the greatest comfort for each other.

If I Kiss You Where It's Sore [a Jay & Frankie fic]

Read on Ao3

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Ship: Frankie Morales x Jay ‘Lady’ Ray (OFC) **Series masterlist**

Warnings: Family life, mention of what happened in SA, mention of drug abuse/mental health problems.

Words: 1,530

Summary: Post South America, Frankie sometimes has bad days, but Jay knows how to handle it.

A/N: Title is from Better, a song by Regina Spektor.

Taglist: @amneris21 @apascalrascal @harriedandharassed @kikis-writing-world @lovesbiggerthanpride @miraclesabound @mswarriorbabe80 @pazizz @paulalikestuff @rambling-in-purple @trinkets01

Frankie does not complain. That's one of his things. He'll not only suffer in silence but also do his best to make sure Jay is well and comfortable when he himself isn't.

It's just like that tonight. Jay notices it as soon as she comes home from work. Frankie had already picked up Alma from daycare, dinner is on the table, Bianca is screaming on his arm, and Alma breaks loose from him only to attack Jay with complaints of her own. Jay immediately sees that Frankie is exhausted and struggling, so she takes the crying baby from him, and kisses his cheek.

"Go sit down," she tells him gently, but Frankie only shakes his head and turns to Alma, who is complaining loudly about Jay not listening.

"Almalita, let mommy sit down, she just got home."

"Bianca can't scream!" Alma hollers, and Jay kneels in front her eldest daughter, Bianca crying against her shoulder.

"Alma, please don't yell," she asks patiently. "Bianca is teething, that's why she's unhappy. She'll calm down soon, but it upsets her that you're telling."

"She's yelling!"

"I know, honey, but that's because she's in pain, and she's too little to tell us with words."

"When will she start talking?" Alma complains. Jay rocks the baby against her shoulder and smiles comfortingly.

"She talks all the time, doesn't she? She babbles and laughs when she sees you. She's always happy to see you, she just can't say it in words yet."

Alma is looking suspicious but when Bianca takes a break to inhale deeply, preparing for another bout of crying, she startles, as if she just thought of something.

"I know where her keys are!"

"Do you?" Frankie asks, visibly relieved as he finishes laying the table. "Help us out and go get them."

Alma runs out of the kitchen on search of the ring with three teether toys in the shape of keys. Jay rises to her feet and pats the crying baby's back.

"There, there..."

She's tired after her day at work, but Frankie looks downright slaughtered. Still, he finds the energy to smile at her as she brushes up against him.

"You okay?" she asks quietly just as Bianca starts to wail again. Frankie makes a sympathetic grimace at the baby as he takes the lid off the salad bowl.

"Sure," he nods, sounding perfectly fine, just as Alma returns to the kitchen, the keys in her hand.

"Here! Bianca is quiet now!"

"Thank you so much, good job, Alma."

A little later, Bianca is strapped in the carrier against Jay's chest, and drooling all over the keys while still whining low. Frankie is helping Alma to cut up the vegetables on her plate while the girl starts to tell her parents about her escapades on the jungle gym at daycare - for the third time.

"I climbed high, all the way to the top, and I didn't fall," she excitedly waves her plastic spoon, "and I wasn't afraid!"

"Put your spoon down when you're not using it, mijita," Frankie admonishes her as Jay nods encouragingly.

"How did you get down?"

"Miss Jennie helped me. She said I'd fall." Alma spoons up a piece of broccoli and puts it in her mouth. Chewing thoughtfully, she looks at Jay.

"I wasn't gonna fall, mommy."

"You haven't fallen so far."

"Miss Jennie is always afraid."

"But you are not, are you, Alma?" Frankie asks, spooning up peas for her. Alma shakes her head vigorously.

"Alma is never afraid," she agrees.

"It's okay to be afraid though, you know that, right?" Jay points out as she cuts into her meatballs. "Everyone is afraid sometimes."

"Not me," the girl insists, and Jay chuckles. If it's in the girl's nature to just throw herself headfirst into any physical activity, or if it's just her age and perceived invincibility, Jay has no idea. It is, however, hard to encourage it while also trying to carefully remind the four-year-old that accidents can happen. And right now, Jay is wondering if she should have a talk with Miss Jennie, who is of a surprisingly nervous disposition for a daycare teacher, about unnecessarily angsting about Alma's climbing. She quickly forgets about it, though, when Bianca's whining rises to a cry, and Alma starts to protest about the noise again.

Somehow, the evening passes somewhat calmly. Bianca has a slight temperature and is given Tylenol, after which she passes out, and once Alma understands that her baby sister really is sick her attitude adjusts, and she helps out by dabbing the baby's forehead with a cool, wet towel. When both kids are tucked in and asleep, Jay finds Frankie in the living-room, plopped down on the couch, leaning his head back and rubbing his forehead. She sees from how he carries himself that his shoulders are tense and knows that he's had a rough day. It's not as much taking care of his children - Frankie loves being a stay-at-home dad - but he's clearly having a bad mental health day today. He's staying clean and she loves him even more for that, for his commitment, but he so easily forgets about himself in his endeavor to prove to his family that he deserves them. The South American excursion that he and the guys undertook only a couple of weeks ago, and the casualties suffered during it, didn’t make things easier.

"Come to bed," she tells him quietly. Frankie hums but doesn't open his eyes.

"I'm sorry, baby, I'm not up for it tonight."

"Not that," she shakes her head as she comes up to the couch and finds his hand on his thigh. "Your shoulders are jammed. I'll loosen them up for you."

He opens his eyes then, those beautiful, warm brown eyes that he shares with their daughters, and for a moment Jay thinks they look a little shiny. He nods slowly and lets Jay pull him up and lead him to the bedroom. Bianca's crib is in the same room, so Jay navigates him quietly to the edge of the bed and sits him down. Fetching a towel and the massage oil from the bathroom, she returns to take his t-shirt off, then his jeans. Frankie then climbs into bed and makes himself comfortable on his stomach, and Jay sets to work.

When she was in school and learning massage techniques, Frankie would often complain about her rough touch, but she has had a few years of practice now. Carefully adjusting the intensity according to the rigidness of Frankie's muscles, she makes him relax into her touch, earning only a few low huffs when hitting a particularly sore spot. Mostly, though, Frankie stays quiet, and Jay doesn't speak either. It's enough to just do this for him, to touch him, love him with her hands, make him feel good. He sighs a couple of times, and hums low when she works through smaller knots, and it makes her smile to hear him so content.

When Jay's done, she wipes excess oil off his back with the towel, then wipes her hands before laying down next to him. His eyes are closed, his lips separated to emit a light snore. A curl falls down his forehead and Jay can't stop herself from gently combing it into his hair with her fingers. His eyelids twitch, he takes a deep breath, and opens his eyes.

"Sorry," she apologizes in a low voice, letting her fingers trail down his cheek. He smiles, and she drags her thumb along his lower lip.

"'S okay."

"How do you feel?"

"Battered. But good. Better."

"Good."

He yawns widely before turning slowly, a little clumsily, onto his back, then pulls Jay to him. She fits herself snugly against his side, hugging one arm over his chest. She doesn't say anything but waits for him to speak.

"You're so good with the kids," he eventually murmurs. Jay's eyebrows rise up in surprise. This wasn't what she expected.

"I'm no better than you are."

"I'm not good enough."

"Yes, you are." The finality is her tone is so Jay-like that Frankie has to chuckle.

"Okay. I don't feel good enough."

"That's another thing entirely," she allows, passing her hand over his heart. "I'm sorry you feel that way."

"Me too," he sighs, " but some days are just... harder."

"I know. But you're doing so well, Frankie, I'm so proud of you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

He smiles, finding her hand on his chest, and brings it up to his lips for a sweet kiss.

"I love you."

"I love you."

They stay like that, silent in the darkening room, Frankie breathing evenly next to her. Just as she thinks that he’s asleep, he yawns, then turns his face to her.

“Jay?”

“Mhm?”

“Would a quick fuck be totally out of the question right now?”

Jay chuckles as she props herself up on one elbow.

“You up for it now?”

“Only if you’re on top,” he admits with a cheeky grin. “I’d really want you to ride my dick.”

“Well, since you’re asking so nicely…”

He pulls her in for a kiss, and she stops running her mouth.

[allurilove]

Yandere x Zombie you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: Body mutilation, gore, stalking, desperate and perverted man, gender neutral reader, begging, dry humping.

*He doesn’t have a name, and is referred to as “your stalker,” He only exists for reader, and without you, he ceases to exist. Here is part two! This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: It’s the zombie apocalypse, and you’re a zombie who has a little stalker/fan. He tried to offer himself to you, but you want nothing to do with him.

You’re just trying to go on about your day being a zombie, but an annoying and persistent man won’t leave you alone. He thinks he’s slick, but you see him, and best him every time.

Your stalker always hated zombies. They reeked of death, their breath sour, and their jaws claimed thousands of souls. He kept quiet as he tiptoed around, hiding his body behind a trash can as you feasted on your latest victim.

You went for the jugular, your teeth puncturing their skin, and a burst of metallic tasting blood filled your mouth. You were wild. Your whole hands, neck, chest, and face were stained with blood. You had a couple of flies around you, which you ate as a snack too.

However, with you, he was infatuated. He never once thought it was disgusting that your skin stuck to your skull, your arm twisted in an unnatural way, and how your hair was matted. Or how your clothes were torn, and you had holes in your shoes.

He tried to trap you. But unlike the other zombies, you were smart. The bear trap didn’t work, he tried to lasso you and failed, he spent time building you a cage, just for you to trap him in it.

When you went after a group of humans, he panicked. He hated when you went after a crowd, and he watched with his heart hammering. He prayed that you would survive, and rip them to shreds.

Your stalker often made sure you were well fed. He dragged an old body that remained untouched, and he purposely pushed it into your view. He winced as the body rolled down the hill and knocked you down like a bowling pin. Whoops.

After this has gone on for months, he became envious. Your attention was solely focused on the girl you trapped against the wall, he huffed and puffed, crossing his arms as the girl continued to scream. He began to wonder how it would feel to be eaten by you.

He handed himself to you like he was the best thing around. He took a shower by the lake, scrubbing his body clean from the dirt and grime. Your stalker wondered if he should just be nude so you had an easier access to him, or be clothed and make you work for it…

Your stalker whistled as he approached you, but you didn’t look at him. Your body just wandering around the abandoned building, and he waved at you. But you ignore him. He purposely laid down in front of you, but you just step on his stomach, making him groan in pain. He watched as you were on the move again, and he grabbed onto your ankle.

“Wait— please!” He tried to bargain with you, “I swear I taste good!” Your stalker whined as you just drag him around, trying to go on about your day again. He decided to do something drastic.

Your stalker needed your attention. He needed to feel your hands on him. He stuffed his mouth with his sock, and he picked up his blade. He jumped a couple of times and his joggers slipped down a bit, enough for him to pull out his member.

It hurt like a bitch. He bit down hard onto the sock as his tears welled up in his eyes, he cut his member from the base— wanting to give you the whole thing.

He handed you his cock, and you took the phallic looking thing in your hands. With some sick perversion he wanted to see you eat it, to hold it in your hands, and watch it disappear down your throat.

He’s seen you eat raccoons, rats, pigeons, and decomposed maggot filled bodies rotting away in the hot summer sun, their guts spilled open, and there was barely any flesh left to eat. He’s seen you dig through trash and shove it in your face.

He watched you tear into your own arm after not being able to find something to feed on for weeks. He watched you bite into a pee soaked leg after the human pissed itself after seeing your morbid face.

And yet you wouldn’t eat his freshly cut dick?

You looked at him with an unamused expression.

Your stalker frowned, his hands snatching back his body part after you refused to eat it. His hands were shaking, and his legs about to give out— due to his wound he haphazardly wrapped with bandages. His ego was bruised.

You continued to stare at him with disgust, as if you haven’t done something as vile as this. But to be fair, it wasn’t your fault that you were eating humans. It was the damn virus.

First, you don’t care to eat him. Second, you barely seem interested in him. And now third, you’re rejecting his offering? This was enough to make a grown man cry.

“Is it too small for you?” He pouted. “I- I happen to be a grower-“

He swore he saw you roll your eyes. For someone who barely had any mobility except for shuffling around, you had the gall to roll your eyes. You just groan. You try to wave your arm at him— to dismiss him, but you just smacked his face.

“Am I not appealing to you?” He glared at you, his face turning pale. His pants are soaked in blood, and he twitched.

The man fell down to his knees, throwing his dismembered cock to the side, and he clasped his hands together. His breath is ragged, and looked at you as if you were an angel who could take him out of his misery.

And so you do.

Most of your victims are scared, clawing at your arms and leaving red harsh marks on your skin, but he holds you closer. He moaned as your body was pressed up against his— chest to chest. You sat right on his hips. His blood tasted like nectar, it was pleasant and sweet. Your tongue swiped at his sweat.

“Oh god yes! Please eat me!” He cried out, and his fingers dig into your rib cage as you start to grind onto him.

He was already on deaths door step, his heart beat slowing down, and his grip slightly loosened. Your stalker’s moans, and the chanting of your name quiets. It wasn’t long before he let out his last breath.

Your stomach is full and you’re satisfied.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

*NSFW* How to train your pet Human pt. 3 (Yandere!Alien x GN!Reader)

CW: Dub-con, mild psychological distress, mind break, dead dove fic

Part 1, part 2

Kirtch slumped over his friend's standing chair, miserable and mopey.

A tall creature, taller than even Kirtch, sighed dramatically, sauntering around their depressed friend with a smaller horned being crawling behind them.

"I don't understand what I'm doing wrong." Kirtch whined pathetically in Jaudna's native tongue. Jaudna made a gurgling sound with the soft spot on their head, the closest human equivalent being someone rolling their eyes. They sprawled across their lounging seat, motioning for their pet to stay on his knees.

"I'll tell you exactly what you've done wrong. You pampered them too much."

"I punish them!"

"You punished them for their escape attempt. That was it. You've allowed your pet to test your authority in plenty of ways after that."

The man on his knees pleaded with his eyes to be let up, but stayed perfectly still, like he wasn't alive. Kirtch noted Jaudna's pet's demeanor with discomfort. That discomfort only lasted until he imagined (Reader) in that same position, looking up at him with their large dewy eyes, waiting so patiently to be held by him... his discomfort was replaced by jealousy.

"You don't understand, (Reader's) such a sweet little pet, and whenever they struggle they're so cute about it. I just can't understand why they aren't happy."

"Humans' minds are incredibly flawed. According to the few psychological texts I have gotten my claws on over the years, their memory is not set in stone like ours, it is fickle and easily manipulated. One of my books referenced a case in the nation called 'The United States of America' where nearly the entire country fell into panic over an imaginary evil, because a few doctors used a phoney science called 'hypnotism', a practice they believed could help recover forgotten memories, on a bunch of children, but accidentally implanted false memories of abuse, leaving the children traumatized, believing that they had been victims of a horrific occult."

Kirtch looked to his good friend nervously. "Are you implying I do something nefarious to my pet's mind?"

"No, I'm showcasing an example of how stupidly easy it should be to train your pet to love you." They tossed a book into Kirtch's hands, the cover printed with a photograph of a wild looking man, with fluffy hair and dark, hateful eyes. "Hypnotism isn't the only creative way humans have learned to reprogram each other."

Kirtch almost threw the book back, but saw Jaudna's unnamed pet still sitting so patiently for his master, and the pain in his body where his heart may have been throbbed again. "Thank you.. Jaudna."

(Reader) had waited for what they assumed to be well over an Earth day, alone in Kirtch's quarters, waiting for his return. The only company they received were the employees who brought their meals, speaking down at them in a language they didn't know, but could understand the disgust. It had been over a month since their fight with Kirtch. Every day since had been nothing but hell, feeling like their heart had been ripped out, they laid in their bed cage, only moving when necessary, allowing themselves to hide away inside their own mind.

The main door opened again, and (Reader) could hear Kirtch's long, graceful steps as he passed through the study and into the bedroom. "(Reader)? Are you still in bed?"

In an act of defiance, (Reader) kept their mouth shut, pulling the blanket tighter around their shoulders. But it was of little use, as Kirtch easily lifted their purposefully dead weighted body out of the bed.

"I'm sorry I was gone for so long, pet, but I had to see an old friend for advice." He carried (Reader) back to his desk, sitting them in his lap, fighting to hold them upright as they flopped about limply. "(Reader), please sit up so I can take off your shirt."

He began working on the wrists, the intricate metal cuffs with multiple buttons that almost acted like locks, and (Reader) subtly straightened their back to give him better access to the neck corset thing, thankful to finally have it off for a couple hours at least. (Reader) had grown to find it somewhat elegant the past few months, but it still was an incredible pain in the ass.

Feeling the air on their neck was bliss, and (Reader) immediately ran their fingers over their skin. (Reader) breathed a deep sigh, relaxing their body unintentionally. But almost as soon as their hands left their throat, a new collar was latched into place, a loud mechanism clicking as it tightened, stabbing the back of their neck with what felt like a fixed needle.

(Reader) cried out in pain, sprawling out their limbs on reflex, pushing themselves out of Kirtch's embrace and onto the floor, lying naked on their knees as they clawed at the collar, desperate to relieve the pain.

"What?? Why?" Their voice was barely audible through their sobs.

"I'm so sorry my pet, the pain will end soon, wait-" Kirtch pushed a button on what looked like a remote, and (Reader) could physically feel the rush of liquid enter their body, then the pain lightened, leaving (Reader) almost euphoric in it's absence.

"What is this? Why did you do this?" Betrayal laced their tone, and Kirtch looked almost on the verge of tears, but he stood still, refusing his urge to scoop up his little pet and beg for forgiveness.

"I know now that I didn't train you correctly, and for that I am sorry. I've given you too much leeway, and that is why you've been so unhappy." He took a ragged breath, thumbing the controller as he thought out his words. "I didn't want to do this, but I care about your happiness. This is for the best."

"So you put a shock collar on me?" (Reader) asked incredulously, spitting venom.

"No, nothing barbaric like that!" Kirtch looked hurt, flinching as he almost dropped onto his knees to comfort (Reader). "I just need to convince you that you're happy here with me, just as I did the first night you were here, to help you release your stress."

(Reader) remembered the shot he gave them, that first night when Kirtch used a toy to get them off, the hormones he artificially added to their body to make them feel pleasure, and then thought about the pain in the back of their neck. The color drained from their face. There were only two options; plead or double down.

"You can manipulate me all you like, I'll never be happy here." A tear escaped as (Reader) transformed their hurt into anger. "I deserve someone who will love me, not as a pet, but as an equal. Because I am a human fucking being. And we have partnerships. We don't jack off our pets, we do not love our pets like we love the people we have sex with, because that- that is not okay! Why did you.." (Reader) couldn't stop themselves from crying, looking up to try to at least slow the waterworks.

The silence between them was loud. (Reader) turned away, wiping away their snot with their bare arms.

"Pet, noun; a domestic or tamed animal kept for companionship or pleasure. Adjective; denoting a thing that one devotes special attention to or feels particularly strongly about." (Reader) looked up, horrified. "Your's may not be my first language, but I feel I had a pretty decent grasp on my understanding of what a pet is."

Kirtch placed a hand over his face to hide his expression.

"You'll be happier once this is all over. I promise."

"You son of a-!" (Reader) couldn't finish their sentence, more fluid passed into their spine, followed by an immediate sense of emptiness. Extreme anxiety flooded their body, causing severe stomach pain almost instantly. They collapsed, holding onto their midsection, their bare skin clammy. "What? Why?"

"No more talking back to me, pet." Kirtch kept his voice steady.

(Reader) cried out, rapidly becoming exhausted from heavy nothingness filling their body. "Please.. stop.."

Kirtch nodded, appearing relieved. He pushed another button, and the emptiness ebbed away, leaving (Reader) numb.

"I don't understand why you're doing this." (Reader) weakly grumbled, too tired to pick themselves up.

"Because I want you to be happy."

"I'll never be happy with you."

"Why?"

"Because! I deserve to be loved!"

"I love you-"

"Fucking liar." (Reader) snarled, knowing that this would cause them to be punished again, but needing to get in the last word. Kirtch looked so miserable, so crushed by (Reader's) words, but they felt vindicated by his pain. They needed to twist the knife deeper.

He smiled, so sadly, and grabbed a blanket, bending onto one knee as he covered his pet. "I love you, (Reader)."

Their heart clenched, and their face flushed. Immediately they searched his hands for the remote. "S-stop that."

"I love you."

Chemicals pumped into their neck, making (Reader) feverish and causing their thighs to ache. Their breath hitched, and tears of betrayal escaped. "I hate you."

"I know."

More pain gripped their throat, regret causing physical discomfort. "Why are you doing this?"

His smooth shelled fingers caressed their jaw, tenderly cradling (Reader's) face as though he needed them. Kirtch's touch sent shivers across (Reader's) skin, and they couldn't tell if it was because of the collar or their loneliness, but they wanted to pull him closer, make him touch them more.

"I will live for much longer than you. I will watch you grown old, and die. Even then, I will still love you. You are the most incredible creature I've ever met. I don't mind if you push me away, and slap at me. I just want you to be happy, at least most of the time." His head grew closer, his hardened face almost brushing (Reader's). "Let me make you happy."

'I need to fight back. Make him pay! I'm practically a slave! He bought me! I'll never see my family again because of him!'

(Reader) leaned forward, mind melting through their ears from the intense heat, and smashed their lips onto where his should have been.

All rational thoughts were drowned out by the intense need. They needed him, his love. (Reader) was aware of the sound of buttons clicking, but they couldn't stop, crawling onto Kirtch's body, feeling the edges of his joints scraping their back as his hands hungrily roamed their body, wanting to touch everything.

They would have felt ashamed, knowing how aroused they were, their exposed body touching Kirtch's stomach. Sweat was clinging to (Reader's) skin, and their eyes drooped stupidly. The only thing they could think of was relieving themselves, and wanting to see Kirtch relieved as well.

"Are you going to fuck me?" (Reader) whined between wet kisses, drunk on his touches.

"I will, if you want me to."

Their mood shifted, frustration beginning to surface again. "No. If you love me, wouldn't you want me?"

Kirtch sighed, fiddling with the remote behind (Reader's) back. "I do not have the same nervous system as humans do. We only engage in sexual acts for the purpose of procreation."

Shame shocked (Reader), sobering them up instantly. "Oh. I- I am so sorry." (Reader) moved to get off of Kirtch, but was held in place by the much stronger being.

"I will, to make you happy."

"No, I'm sorry! It won't make me happy knowing you aren't feeling good. I'm-I'm sorry, please let me go."

Kirtch pressed the button again, watching his pet's face darken and their mouth go from frightened to slack jawed. "Knowing you are feeling pleasure, from me, and only me, will bring me more joy than I can express." His cloak was ripped away, revealing his gorgeously colored exoskeleton. Kirtch gripped (Reader's) face tighter, forcing his blue tongue deep into their mouth, bursting with pride at the sounds (Reader) was making.

"What do you want me to do?" Kirtch asked, not intending on sounding like he was teasing them, but Kirtch craved the sound of their voice begging him.

"Please.." (Reader) swallowed their drool, feeling the hormones pumping into their brain, but too horny to care. "Please fuck me."

The spot on his pelvis where a human's genitals would be split open and a long, slimy cock revealed itself, growing behind (Reader's) back to a horrifying size. (Reader) only became aware of his erection when it fell forward, slapping against (Reader's) ass and lower back. In their intoxicated state, they turned back to look at what had suddenly touched them, and their eyes grew large in surprise. "Is that..? That's too big..."

Off balance and tipsy, (Reader) turned around, still sitting on Kirtch's abdomen, so that they were facing his exposed dick, and touched it experimentally. It was ridiculously huge, but because of the hormones being injected into (Reader's) neck, they were ravenous, using both hands to pump up and down on the shaft as they stuck the thin tipped head into their mouth, tasting Kirtch passionately. Kirtch was beyond elated, watching his precious pet so needy for him.

Kirtch picked (Reader) up, moaning at the popping sound as he pulled their mouth away from his body, seeing nothing but love in (Reader's) eyes as he spun them back to face him, and slowly began lowering (Reader) onto his naturally lubricated member. "Keep looking at me."

(Reader's) mind was hazy, and it felt like they were about to die, saliva and alien fluids leaking out their mouth and down their chin. Their internal voice had gone silent, the amount of tampering that had been done to their brain left (Reader) devoid of rational thought and intellect. "Yes sir." They barely got the words out as Kirtch entered their body, sliding into their needy little hole easily and without resistance, ramming himself in so their pelvis smacked into his shell with a wet plop, bringing (Reader) to a climax just from entering.

"Smile for me, pet." Kirtch cooed joyfully, loving how (Reader's) body spasmed, before slowly lifting them up, revealing the trail of their combined wetness stretching between their reproductive organs.

(Reader) smiled, reacting on autopilot as they rode out their orgasm, practically biting off their tongue when their sensitive body connected with Kirtch's again. "Ahhh, I already came! Stop!!" Their words cried for relief, however their voice and smile demanded more. It was too much, and (Reader) did want a break, but it also felt amazing, and that dirty little part of themselves that was desperate for love needed their body to be abused.

Kirtch bounced (Reader) on his cock, fucking them like a toy, regretting that he didn't have a camera rolling to capture just how adorable his pet was in his hands. "Look at how happy you are, pet! Don't you want to be this happy all the time? Don't you always want to be happy, with me?"

Kirtch greedily pushed the button again, peppering (Reader) with kisses as they came again, their sticky juices splattering on his stomach. The squelching sound of (Reader's) bruising body getting fucked by the hard as steel monster beneath them was music to Kirtch's ears. He had, embarrassingly, read the book his friend had lent him, and knew now how humans used pleasure to keep brainwashed people by their side. But it wasn't just pleasure, it was that feeling of connection. He had thought about what (Reader) had said, that humans don't jack off their pets, and that made sense, for animals that did not share the same level of intelligence as an adult human. What (Reader) needed, was to feel equal, to feel like they weren't just a pet, but a partner. So how would they feel, if Kirtch ejaculated so deep into their body they were still excreting his cum weeks later?

"I'm going to mark you as mine, (Reader)." It was a lie, his species did no such thing, but the look of unbridled joy on (Reader's) cross eyed face, the loopy smile that twitched as tears poured down to their chest, was a sight that made it worth lying.

"Are you cumming? Are you cumming in me?" (Reader) slurred, barely holding themselves upright in Kirtch's grasp.

"If you promise to be a good little pet." Kirtch could hold out for as long as needed. His species did not have sex for pleasure, so there was no sense of urgency when they needed to release. He could have continued going for hours, if he hadn't overdone it with the collar. (Reader) was on the verge of passing out.

"I promise! I promise to be a good pet! I promise!" (Reader) exclaimed, colliding their lips back onto Kirtch's as a string of hot sperm shot up into (Reader's) body, a fluid so thick it was practically glue, leaving (Reader) feeling physically full. Kirtch couldn't help but push the button again, seeing his pet overflow with adoration for him.

"I love you, (Reader), I really really do."

Kirtch whispered sweet nothing's into his pet's ear as they passed out, then carried them to his bed, tucking in their swollen body, not minding the mess. (Reader) really was the most beautiful and adorable little pet in the entire universe. He doubt that he would ever get another pet after (Reader) was gone. He sat on the floor, rubbing circles into their tear stained cheeks, smiling contently.

Of course, the next day Kirtch would have to use the collar, showing (Reader) how bad they truly felt inside when they refused to get out of bed, and while it was awful making them cry when they tried to refuse to eat, it was for the best. Kirtch knew it wouldn't take long for (Reader) to graduate from needing their collar, and that soon they would always be by his side, begging him to pick them up and play with them. It didn't matter whether (Reader) needed cuddles or needed to be filled with his seed, Kirtch would overuse that remote until they desired his touch all the time.

He didn't mind the glassy, doll like glaze to their eyes, the change in their speech, the way they began crying whenever it looked like Kirtch was unhappy, or how they stopped pushing him away. After months of flushing their system with artificial love, Kirtch knew that his pet was happy with him. And that was all that mattered.

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LADS Rafayel: Questions Answered | NSFW

Here it is. It took almost a month, but we finally have our questions answered about Rafayel and his Lemurian Form! Enjoy the smut, it's a...it's a lot.

❧ Pairings: Rafayel x Reader ❧ Warnings: Non-Human Genitalia, Two Dicks, Vaginal Sex, Anal Sex, Double Penetration, Blow Job, Hand Job, Cum Swallowing, Creampie, Unsafe Sex, Mentions of Egg Laying, Biting, Scratching, Fucked Dumb, Pool Sex, Underwater Sex, Mentions of Safe Words, Enthusiastic Consent, Switch Rafayel, Riding, Missionary, Switch Reader ❧ Synopsis: You and Rafayel go out to his pool and you finally get questions answered about Lemurian Anatomy. ❧ Word Count: 14k Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 (here)- AO3

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Rafayel

Questions Answered

Rafayel looked down at your face which was covered in curiosity as you stared right back into him. He looked away bashfully, and turned to the pool as if thinking things over for a moment. For some reason you didn’t feel the least bit nervous about the entire situation, but it appeared that Rafayel had a few reservations. This would be the first time you ever saw him in his Lemurian form, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was worried you’d dislike it.

“So whatcha gonna do?” you said, garnering the man’s attention as he looked at you with furrowed brows, a question ready to leave him about what you meant. “You gonna touch the water and then I get to yell ‘Oh naaaaaaur, Cleuuuuuuur!’ or what?” you watched as Rafayel closed his eyes, a smile playing on the corner of his lips.

He shook his head and coughed into his hand to hide the laugh that wanted to escape, “You think you’re so funny, huh?” he said, his tone going more natural as the tension eased.

“Oh I think I’m hilarious,” you said and then made grabby hands, “Now get over here for a second,” you coaxed him over. Rafayel didn’t need to be told a second time as he walked over and caged you between his arms. You giggled and grabbed his shirt, dragging him down to crash his lips into your own. You moaned against him, enjoying how he always just went for it in moments like these. There was no hesitation as he deepened the kiss, nibbling your lower lip to seek entrance into your mouth.

You took one hand to place on the nape of his neck, grabbing some of his hair in the process as you dragged him closer. You felt him groaning into your mouth while he crawled onto the pool chair. His legs caged you in as his hand grabbed your chin and kept you in place. His tongue explored, pressing against the roof of your mouth and driving you crazy. The taste of him had always been intoxicating; he was sweet all the time and it was so uniquely associated with him that you don’t think you’d find it anywhere else.

The hand that was playing with his shirt began unbuttoning it as you decided you were done playing around. You wanted to feel his skin pressing against yours already. You were so slick you could feel it on your inner thighs since you opted to just wear a hoodie and underwear for your movie night. You were throbbing between your legs as you squeezed them together to alleviate the pressure; you worked in removing his shirt as fast as you could just to see him.

Rafayel could see the need in the way you kissed him and clumsily worked the buttons. His larger hand enveloped your own as he helped you in taking off the shirt. He pulled it out from where it was tucked in his pants and tossed it to the side. Instantly your hands were on him, touching every piece of him you could. He felt so hot under your fingertips, his heart was also going wild as he groaned after your hand went over one of his nipples.

When your lips parted you surged forward, leaving more kisses and bites all over his chest; you made sure to give attention to the small mole he had, staring up at him as he gasped. His hands had gone down to play with the hem of your hoodie, wanting to take it off. He cleared his throat as he spoke, “You know, it’s strange to have someone watch me,” he said after your lips left his chest. 

He went to take off your hoodie with ease, tossing it with his shirt to who knows where. His hand cupped one of your breasts since it was now his turn to enjoy your naked body. His mouth was instantly latching onto one of your nipples, sucking on it harshly and getting a small keen from you as your hips rolled up into nothingness. 

“I can look away if you’d prefer,” you groaned, your grasp on the back of his head helped you pull him closer to your chest as he laved at the skin there. One hand played with your nipple on the other side, pinching it between his thumb and pointer finger.

Rafayel got closer to you on the chair, nudging your legs open with his knee. You wrapped them around his waist and he started to grind his pulsating length against your center. All your motions were needy, filled with lust as you tried working your hips in time with his own. Just feeling him like this was driving you crazy and you needed so much more. You were tired of feeling his cock through layers, you needed to feel it against you, inside of you, you wanted everything right now.

You shifted yourself on the lounger, taking your hand to go over the front of his pants. You cupped him through it and Rafayel let out a pleased noise, grinding into your palm now. He was panting against your chest, still working on your nipples and driving you crazy. Your hand began going to his belt as you did your best to unclasp the intricate buckle.

It wasn’t too hard after doing it a million times at this point. You unzipped his pants and worked them off his hips until his cock sprang free. It was already leaking from the reddened tip causing it to glisten under the current lighting. You groaned and wrapped your hand around the length and gave it a few pumps, spreading the precum around the shaft.

He let out the prettiest noise as he continued bucking into your hand before stopping. He grabbed your wrist, stopping you from working on his cock, and he looked at you with eyes that were now darkened from how badly he needed you right now. His cheeks were a beautiful scarlet tone, and he shivered as soon as his eyes looked over your body. 

You probably looked as desperate as him; your lips were wet and swollen from his kisses, nipples were hardened from his teasing, and your underwear clearly had a wet patch in the front which was obvious with how your legs were spread with your knees up on the chair. Your chest heaved as you tried calming yourself down; you hadn’t even gotten to the main event of the night, and already you were about to cum untouched because of this man.

“If you keep this up, I’m going to cum before we even get into the water,” he warned you, almost speaking your exact thoughts. You still let out a disappointed whine, but he was right. You wanted to go for as many rounds as he would allow you, so you needed to make sure he didn’t get tired out too fast

“That won’t do…” you murmured and then looked at him with a smile, “How about I finish getting undressed, and you get into the pool, okay? I’ll turn around,” you suggested. Rafayel let out an amused noise as he looked down at you. 

He raised an eyebrow as he spoke, “Ah yes, because you still have a long way to go before you’re naked,” he said, his hand playing with the edge of your underwear. You shot him a small, pouty look, he did have a point though. All you had on was a pair of underwear and as soon as they were gone you’d be completely bare.

“Just get into the water babes,” you said, pressing a hand on his chest to get him off of you. He laughed and stood up. He took off the rest of his pants and tossed them to the side where the rest of the clothes pile was currently lying. When he turned around you took a moment to admire his ass as he walked to the edge of the water.

Before he could get in you were getting up and turning away. You heard a splash behind you as you took your underwear, bending down at the waist as you took them off. You knew he could see everything if he was looking your way as you bent over, your pussy on full display for him. The way your arousal stuck to your underwear, creating a small string that snapped you pulled them off of you.

Rafayel whistled from behind you, clearly enjoying the mini show. You chuckled, “Enjoying the show?” you asked and spun around. As soon as you saw him your mouth opened in awe. This was…certainly something you could’ve never imagined. How this man got even more stunning like this was otherworldly.

His tail was larger than you thought with the ends of it draped down past the tanning area and into the main pool. The scales were a light blue, but they shone in the moonlight with speckles of lavender on his iridescent scales. It was lined with dorsal fins that started right where his human half was and went all the way down until they landed at the end of the tail where the fins were long and delicate in appearance.

He had blue markings on his skin where the scales scattered over them, in fact all of the new assets were that pretty blue that glimmered in the light. His hands were webbed with claws at the end, the colors went up to his wrists where they tapered off into scales. His ears were now fins seemed to twitch under your gaze, and the scales on his face were more prominent. He also had slits along the sides of his neck which almost seemed to glow slightly, you could only assume them to be gills. His eyes definitely glowed as they stared up at you with nerves hidden behind them.

“Breathtaking…” it was the only words that could leave your mouth as you stared at him. Was it possible to love this man anymore? You were certain you had just fallen head over heels all over again as your feet dragged you closer until your ankles were in the water, wading over to him almost in a trance like state. You wanted to touch him and see if those scales were as soft as they looked.

“Was I not breathtaking before,” there was some hesitation in his voice as he asked this. Your eyes softened as you smiled at him. You knelt down in the water after you were close enough to him; you cupped his cheek and your thumb went over the scales there. His eyes shifted away from yours for a moment as he waited for your reply.

“You’ve always been breathtaking Raf, this is just a new version of it,” you murmured and leaned closer to place a kiss right next to his eye. You could feel his lashes fluttering closed as you gave him this sweet moment of attention, “I love you, you know that, right?” you murmured, your hand still caressing him to show you meant what you said.

“I know, I love you as well,” he said after a moment of silence, “And I trust you. I wouldn’t be like this if I didn’t,” his eyes opened to lock onto your own. You brushed your nose against his own and giggled, the man was too precious for words alone. You were easily the luckiest person to ever walk this planet since you got to have him by your side.

“Are you still fine if we continue on?” you asked him, “I’d be fine with just cuddling in the water like this if you’d want,” you wanted to give him a final opportunity to opt out of this. You knew you still wanted this, probably more than ever after seeing this form. Still, he was the one putting everything out in the open for you right now, letting you see him like this was a huge step in your relationship.

He groaned as he took your hand and placed a kiss on your palm, “Please, I need you to touch me. I’m not above begging for it if that’s what it takes,” his voice no longer wavered after that. Seeing how well you responded had filled him with more confidence. He knew his form was different from what some people expected from Lemurians. They always left out key details like the claws, teeth, and even ears. It was more ‘monstrous’ he assumed to be spoken about. Humans only wanted to see the beautiful things, not the reality of it. Still, you looked at him with so much longing in your eyes that he felt better, happy that you hadn’t rejected him.

“What’s the safeword for the night?” you asked him and he took a moment to think about it, his hand rubbing across your knuckles as he thought.

“Pufferfish?” he asked and you nodded with a chuckle.

“Alright, from this point onward if someone says pufferfish, we full stop and cuddle for the rest of the evening?” you asked.

“Sounds good to me,”Rafayel let go of your hand, allowing you to freely touch him however you wished. Your hand went to his ear, touching the fins there. They moved as soon as your hands made contact, wiggling a bit. You hummed at the response, using your fingers to touch the soft fins. You heard Rafayel let out a groan at the sensation of it, opening his mouth after you pinched them gently.

You slowly moved your hand down to his neck where the scales and gills were, remembering the first time you had seen them…well the scales at least; the gills were certainly a new thing for your eyes. When you had touched his scales for the first time he had snapped away on Ebb Day, grabbing your wrist and stopping you. The memory made you smile as you leaned in and kissed them, feeling how his throat moved as he attempted to hold still. You brushed your lips right where his gills were and he let out another pretty moan from that.

“Remember the day I found out you were a Lemurian,” you asked, voice a little softer in the moment. Rafayel looked at you as you rose up from his neck.

“Ya, I recall, it’s a little bit hard to forget,” he muttered. How could he forget, he had wanted to take you that day. He had tried dragging you onto his lap, grabbing your hand and trailing it down his open shirt in a desperate need for contact. You had been so insistent that you two didn’t do anything that day, saying he wasn’t in the right state of mind. He had been annoyed at the time, his need for you had been burning hotter than it ever had before, but now he was thankful you hadn’t let him just rush in.

“I wanted you all the way back then, you know. It took everything in me not to keep touching you,” you cupped his jaw and placed a kiss to the corner of his lips. He groaned, wanting more as he tried getting you to properly kiss him, “I’m damn glad that I had found out that day though. Everything about you makes way more sense ever since then,” you said.

You finally gave him what he wanted, letting your lips connect with his own. He moaned the moment you began kissing him, your lips working in tandem with his own. It wasn’t like before where you two were heated, desperately licking into one another's mouth. This time it was slower, and Rafayel was savoring every moment of it.

His hand went to your head, keeping you in place. The sensation was different as you felt the nails scraping gently on your head. It was almost like a massage and had you whimpering against him, feeling how the webbing made his hold feel more secure. He nipped at your lips and you felt a stinging sensation and gasped.

Rafayel left yours in a hurry, his hand now cupping your chin as he inspected it. You could taste copper and you knew he had accidentally cut your lip, “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” he looked like he regretted it, and his voice was near panic, but you just chuckled and went to calm him.

“It’s fine Raf, I didn’t realize you had sharper teeth. Lemme see them, come on, smile for me pretty boy,” you cooed. Rafayel let out a slightly annoyed groan, realizing his concern clearly wasn’t something that was bothering you. Still, he opened up his mouth to let you see inside.

It wasn’t just his fangs that were sharper, but everything was. His teeth were like little razor points that had you shivering. His tongue was also blue, which hadn’t been something you were expecting. Still, you liked what you saw as you leaned in and kissed his bottom lip. That was all the encouragement he needed as he grabbed you again, locking your mouth against his own.

His tongue licked at the blood he had left on it and it was more soothing than you had thought, almost numbing the feeling entirely. His tongue prodded into your mouth, going against your teeth and making your entire body shudder. You decided it was best to let him take over as you didn’t want your tongue to be cut up.

As he kissed you and attempted to take your breath away your hand trailed down his chest. They grazed over his nipple gently and you felt his tail brush up against your thigh. Your curiosity led you to finally taking your hand lower. At first you played with the area where his tail connected to his torso, savoring how it felt. You noticed a distinct lack of a belly button in this form and opted not to comment on it for now. You’d ask later, but at the moment your hand was trailing lower.

The scales were slimier than you thought, but they weren't uncomfortable. You went with the way they grew out first, and when you went the opposite direction you were pleased to see they didn’t cut you. You had heard stories about Lemurian scales being sharp, but it seemed that was another false rumor as your hands went against him.

Rafayel let out a whine as your hands played with his tail, the appendage almost thrashing in the water from your touch. You could feel the cool water as it splashed over you which only caused you to chuckle with amusement. He was so damn sensitive, which was something he had warned you about, but seeing it in action was amazing. You couldn’t wait to see how he’d be reacting once you properly began fucking.

“You’re definitely more sensitive than usual,” you comment, your hands never ceasing their exploration of his body. Seeing him squirm, how his stomach seemed to tense whenever your hands went over his scales. Everything about this experience was already more than you could’ve imagined, especially when you heard him moan as you pressed down on his tail.

“I’ve never had someone touch me like this in this form…and it’s not often I get to take it,” he reminded you, gasping when your hands began working their way down even more. 

You were searching for something, your hands running around the front of his tail. You were looking for a different texture somewhere on him, letting out a hum when you found it. The scales in this area were softer to the touch, almost like his skin, and you knew it was exactly what you thought it was when Rafayel’s tail trashed even more.

Your fingers gently began prodding against him, pressing in and the digits started to slip inside of it. It was warm inside of his vent, and very wet. The viscous fluids coating your fingers as you worked one into it, you had  a proud smirk when he let out one of the most melodic moans he had ever graced your ears with.

His mouth was open, “Ah-ah-ha f-fuck, w-wait a second,” he managed to groan out, his hand coming over to your wrist. Your fingers stopped their ministrations inside of his wet vent reluctantly, waiting to get the greenlight from him. As soon as you stopped fingering him he was able to catch his breath and looked at you in surprise.

“How did you…find that so fast?” Rafayel finally managed to say, his voice low and husky as he looked down at where your hand was. You were gently playing with the scales at the entrance of the vent, but not dipping your fingers in until he said you could.

“I might’ve read a few…stories in preparation. They were all fantasy of course but…it seems this part was accurate. I assume your dick is in here?” You admitted to him. You had read more than your fair share of stories actually, and every single one had made reference to a vent of some sort on the front of their tail. It made the most logical sense, you just hadn’t expected it to feel almost like a pussy on the inside. It had made your mouth watered at the thought of delving your tongue between the scales and getting a good taste of your boyfriend.

Rafayel seemed to have calmed down a little more while he worked through the surprise of you just somehow knowing these things, “Ya, a little too accurate…” he muttered out, his eyes now locking onto your hand, “Yes, my…dick is in there,” he finally confirmed, making you smirk. You couldn’t wait to see what they’d be looking like. So far everything about Rafayel’s appearance had been more than you expected in the most pleasant of ways.

“Alright, then may I?” you asked, wanting to continue your prodding, figure out how to make him scream while he took this form. He took a deep breath and nodded his head, giving his consent for you to continue on. You fought back the urge to do a small happy dance, instead opting to place your fingers back into your boyfriend's vent.

This time you insert two of your fingers into his slick vent, allowing the fluids to help ease your way into it. You couldn’t go too deep into it, only able to fit up to your second knuckle before you were stopped by something inside of his vent. They felt slimy and smooth as your fingers began stroking it, noticing how they moved against your fingers.

Rafayel let out a guttural moan as his head was thrown back from your ministrations, clearly enjoying himself.  Your fingers continue to tease what you assumed was his cock trying to escape from his vent. It was pushing closer to your fingers, almost pushing them out as you continued stroking it leisurely, listening to your boyfriend’s broken moans flowing into the night.

Rafayel’s dick continues to push against your finger as you continue stroking it, allowing the gentle push to guide your fingers out. You could see the top peeking out of his vent and let out a small groan. Just from the heads poking out you knew another one of your observations had been correct. You touched the tips of them, watching Rafayel’s hips rolling up into your touch.

“I knew it, there were two of them,” you chuckled, watching as they slowly started to emerge. They were following the warmth of your hand as you continued playing with them. Rafayel already looked to be an absolute wreck as they made their way out.

“Y-ya, there’s mhm f-fuck, two of t-them,” he bit out, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes as he tried calming himself down some. He had expected it to feel amazing to have you touching him while in this form, but he hadn’t expected it to be this good. You hadn’t even really begun doing anything to him yet, and already he was about to cum. His body was over sensitive, especially to your touch.

“I wonder if I can get them both inside of me,” you were musing, watching as they finally emerged from the vent. Rafayel couldn’t even form a verbal response to your lewd comment, he could only let out another groan as he felt how you wrapped your hand around one of his cocks, gently applying pressure to see what felt good. 

The thought of you taking both of his cocks at the same time sent waves of pleasure through him, his cocks pulsating against your grasp. Your eyes widened as you really took in the appearance of his dicks.

They were super slick to the touch, being covered in a thick, viscous fluid that his vent seemed to be coated in as well. They were tentacle-like, one on top of the other with tapered ends and were fairly thick at the base where they came out of. They were so thick at the base, in fact, that you wondered if it would even be capable of going inside of you. 

The tip of his cocks were a nice pretty pinkish purple tone, and then it had a gradient that went down the shafts until it got to the base where it turned to the familiar blue. There were scales at the base as well, though they didn’t shine like the rest. The bottom cock was smaller than the top, but even then the bottom was probably around the normal size of his cock in his human form.

You watched as the bottom cock moved, wrapping around your wrist as you began moving your hand along the top one. Your eyes widened as you realized they were prehensile. Now whether Rafayel could control them or if they had a mind of their own, you had no clue.

His cocks were perfectly smooth to the touch, no ridges in sight on it other than the base. The texture was silky like his normal cock, and they were definitely pretty as your hand began pumping them. You couldn’t help but watch as his tail fins swayed in the water and his hands clenched into fists. His eyes were closed as his head was dropped, just giving into the feeling of your hands on him as he panted into the balmy summer air. 

The texture of his dick reminded you of a soft cock almost, a bit squishy if you had to think about it as you squeezed and heard a whine coming from the back of Rafayel’s throat. You stopped doing that, not knowing if that was a good or bad sign. Instead you trailed your hands down further onto his cock until you were right at the base.

The pretty scales on it were scattered about on his cock and you wanted to feel them on your fingers. You pressed down on a patch of the scales at the base of his top one, noticing just how plush they were. They didn’t even feel like scales, instead it was just a nice texture at the base as you trailed your fingers over them, enjoying the smooth bumps under your fingers.

You could hear Rafayel cry out from how you touched the scales, the cock that wrapped around your wrist squeezing down as much as it could as if trying to hold your hand in place. You felt how they both pulsed in your grasp as his breathing got shallower. Then it was the oddest feeling with the one around your wrist.

Being able to feel his cum as it went through it, pushing it out of the tip of his cock was something completely new to you. Normally you could feel how his cock pulsed when he was about to cum, but this was entirely different.

You worked his top cock as watery cum began to shoot out of the tip, the translucent pearlescent liquid coating his tail underneath and getting washed away in the water. The cock on your wrist also began pumping out cum, the fluid coating your arm as it trailed down and then dripped into the water below, letting the small ripples wash it away. It was thinner than his normal cum as you observed it, but there was also something else that was different about it.

The fact that it was glowing.

As Rafayel’s cocks pushed the last bit of cum out of the tips you looked at the bluish-teal glow. It reminded you of when he took you to a sea cave where there were bioluminescent creatures and the water below them was covered in a thick layer of the glowing substance. As it dispersed in the water it glowed gently and you looked up at Rafayel with awestruck eyes. It was different, and for the hundredth time that evening you found yourself just awestruck by the beauty that was this man. Everything about him was just taking your breath away, and you understood why someone was willing to follow a Lemurian into the depth of the sea to their demise. You would step off the cliff into the depths yourself if you knew Rafayel would be waiting below the surface.

You looked up at Rafayel and expected his face to be scarlet, but instead his cheeks and chest were glowing as well. “Fuck…” you murmured, realizing just how different Lemurians were to what people always seemed to have thought. Nothing in anyone's readings could have possibly been able to describe just how ethereal they were. Seeing his cheeks lit up as his chest was heaving in an attempt to catch his breath had you wanting to just smother him in love and affection. How he could ever think you’d dislike this form of his was astonishing.

He had licked his lips as his eyes managed to start focusing again. He noticed you staring as your hands slowly left his cock. The cum that was coating your forearm glistened and you raised it to your mouth, wanting to taste him. He let out a long groan at seeing your tongue poking out, licking up some of his release from your arm.

Rafayel’s cum in this form was definitely saltier than normal, but it wasn’t disgusting. In fact there was a hidden sweetness to it that had you moaning. You were almost concerned it would taste fishy, like caviar, but fate had other plans. You lapped at his release on your wrists, wanting to get a better taste of him as you swallowed the cum in your mouth and looked at him.

Your hands splashed in the water on either side of him as you leaned up. The glow on his cheeks was starting to go down a bit, but his eyes were still half lidded as he looked up at you. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, giggling at the little gasp that had left his lips. He was being cute right now, something that he commonly did when he was feeling more submissive. You wondered how long he would keep it up, if he would want to flip you over later and fuck you senseless like he often did when he was playing this game.

“So the scales at the base are a little sensitive, huh?” you chuckled; he had cum the moment your hands were on them. You looked at the small pout on your boyfriend's lips, knowing you were spot on. You wanted to see what would happen if you were pressing your tongue against it next.

“I wonder where you got that idea from,” he huffed, but the small pout went away when you cupped his chin and left a sweet kiss on his lips. Rafayel groaned as he could taste himself on you, his breathing picking up again as your lips moved against his own. You didn’t linger too long though, you still had a million and one things you wanted to do to this man. You pressed another kiss on his cheek as you sat up on your knees, allowing your hand to trail down and caressing one of his nipples.

“Will you be fine going a few more rounds?” you asked him, not knowing if he wanted to continue. This was the first time he had been touched like this in his Lemurian form, so you weren’t sure if he wanted to call it a day. His refractory period had always been insanely fast, so you knew he was capable of coming a few more times.

Rafayel nodded his head as he felt you touching his chest, “Please, I need more,” his husky voice broke out as he let out a small whimper once you pinched his nipple. You chuckled at how cute and needy he was being. You threw one leg over his waist, straddling his tail. Your legs spread wide to accommodate how large he was underneath you.

“I want to taste you, Raf,” you admitted to him, earning a gasp from him. You went back on his tail and looked at the base, noticing his cocks were nowhere to be seen. They had retreated back into his vent and you looked up at him. Your hand trailing over the smooth area where his entrance was. You gave him a curious look, wondering why his cocks had withdrawn when they had just gotten started.

“They…do that after I cum…” he said with a breathy groan as he felt your fingers prodding his entrance once again, “T-they’ll come back out since I’m still worked up,” he moaned out this time with a gasp following shortly behind. You chuckled as you adjusted yourself until your chest was brushing up against his tail. The scales against your nipples adding stimulation you hadn’t expected you needed. Not to mention how your legs were spread on him, any time his tail twitched you felt it on your cunt.

“If I had kept touching them would they still have gone back in?” You asked, your breath fanning over his vent now. You had every intention of tasting him in every single way possible. You could never get enough of Rafayel, even when he was in his human form you liked having his cock in your mouth. Sometimes you’d just sit between his legs with his soft dick being warmed in your mouth, content to just be there.

“Ya, if you kept touching them after I came they’d s-stah ah-d-damn mhm, stay out,” he said, his sentence breaking off into a moan once he felt your tongue prodding against him. He was trying not to squirm, but just feeling the tip of your tongue licking at the entrance of his vent was driving wild. Lemurians had sharp teeth so he never even thought about oral sex in this form, let alone someone eating out his vent, so seeing you down there had his brain going haywire.

You pressed a kiss on top of his vent, feeling how it pulsed under your lips. You groaned as you licked it again, the slick fluids coating the outside where the softer scales were. You didn’t want to waste anymore time, allowing your tongue to prod into his entrance. You groaned at the taste, it was so much stronger inside of his vent. Not to mention the salt water from the pool was getting in it as you pushed your muscle into him.

The slick felt amazing as you used the tip of your tongue to explore the gummy walls of his vent, groaning at how he tasted. Rafayel’s hand went into your hair, the claws gently scraping against your scalp as he tried to be careful not to scratch you. He was panting, head thrown back from the new sensations. It felt better than he could’ve thought and he was realizing just why you enjoyed sitting on his face so much.

You groaned against him,  your tongue fucking into him, licking at his cocks that pushed up against your tongue. This rewarded you with a loud keen, Rafayel not even trying to stifle his noises like he often did when you were on top. Instead he just focused on the feeling of your tongue licking at his cocks while they were still nestled deep in his vent.

His tail began thrashing a little bit underneath you, which only had you moaning more as the scales were brushing against your clit and making you wetter than the water surrounding you. You were panting into his vent, feeling how his cocks were pressing against your tongue, begging to be released. As much as you wanted to see him cum while his dicks were inside of his vent, you wanted to have them in your mouth already.

You allowed the cocks to press out of his vent, licking them as your finger rubbed at the scales surrounding his vent. It seemed to be feeling good for Rafayel with his he was now biting his knuckles, the grip on your head getting a little bit tighter as he tugged on your hair.

You took his bottom cock into your mouth before it was even fully out of the vent, groaning at the heady taste of your boyfriend. The vibrations caused his hips to thrust up into your mouth. You let out a small mewl, the vibrations caused him to whimper. One of your hands was brushing the delicate area on the outside of his vent while the other went to wrap around his top cock, pumping it in your hand and enjoying just how easy it was to jerk him off with the sheer amount of slick that covered it.

As his cocks finally escaped the vent fully you began sucking on the bottom one in earnest, humming as you could feel it wiggling in your mouth. It was almost like a really thick tongue, and you didn’t hate it. Rafayel’s tail was still moving underneath you, causing it to grind and you began rolling your hips onto it, trying to see if you could cum as well just from this.

As his cock began slipping deeper into your throat you made a note how you weren’t choking on it like you normally would. You could feel a slight tingle in the back of your throat as you slid his length further into your waiting mouth, his cock being surprisingly still as it was in the depths of your tight throat.

The hand on his other cock continued pumping and you could see from your angle how it was leaking more of the fluid, dripping down onto the rest of his shaft and over your hand. Rafayel’s panting accompanied by the sound of water splashing was the only thing you could hear. Your tongue seemed to be working overtime on his cock, whenever it was just the tip remaining you laved at the slit at the top. It had Rafayel letting out all sorts of noises from above you.

The grip he had on your hair tightened again as he pushed you down further onto his dick, the slick appendage easily going down your throat. You hummed around it, making him let out a string of curses under his breath, “F-fuck mng so close, k-keep it up, love,” he said, praising you as he began rolling his hips up into your open mouth.

You allowed him to throat fuck you, your eyes now on him as you started pumping his top cock faster, wanting to see him cum again. The glow on his cheeks were back as he looked down at you with a fucked out expression, his mouth open to allow the several hushed moans and murmurs of praise for you.

Your hips never stopped their movement, your pussy slick and sliding easily on his equally slimy tail. Your thighs were already quivering and you knew you were close, the texture of his scales helping bring you closer to the edge. You moaned around his cock and that was enough as he held your face down now, thrusting up into you as he came.

Watching Rafayel cum was always a sight to see, how he always had his mouth hanging open and not bothering to hide the noises. His panting, the way his chest was heaving, the scrunch of his eyebrows. Everything was there to paint a picture that was prettier than he could ever come up with on a canvas. You only wished you could watch it longer, but at the moment you had other problems on your hands.

You had to close your eyes, his top cock had been above your head and when he came it went into your hair and got onto your face. You eyes shut just in case some dribbled down into your eyes, though you doubted it. Your throat was also working overtime, his cum going down it as you tried swallowing it all. You had noted how much he had cum the first time, but it was so different when it was in your own mouth.

You could only moan, some of his cum leaked out the corners of your mouth and down your chin as you tried to take him all in. Your let out small whines as it got to be too much, the way his tail was moving underneath you had made the tension coiling in your stomach snap as you reached your own peak, your pussy rutting down onto his tail as you came together.

Once you were certain none of his cum would be getting in your eyes you opened them back up, glimpsing Rafayel. He was looking down at your quivering from, admiring you. The fins on his ears were twitching, fluttering on his head as he heaved a few breaths, trying to regain some semblance of control. You felt his hand letting off your head, the claws retreating and making you let out another whine at the loss.

Your boyfriend was sometimes too cute for words. You could finally pop off his cock, letting out a few coughs as you tried wiping the slick coating your chin. It didn’t do much as you looked up at Rafayel. He seemed pretty amused by you, but let out a hiss when you began stroking both cocks again. You had no intention of letting them go back into their vent this time around.

Once they were squirming again, one trying to pull your wrist closer, you finally took your hands off of him so he could have a moment to breathe. He looked like he was about five seconds from tearing up from the sensitivity of it. You could’ve put the Lemurian myth of crying pearls to the test if you really wanted to, but instead you opted to give him a second. Getting him too worked up before the main course might’ve spoiled some of the fun.

Rafayel took the few moments of respite to calm down, feeling your hands caressing his hips as he breathed in. You watched how his gills seemed to flutter with every breath and wondered what would happen if you bit one of them. Rafayel caught your staring easily and one hand went to cover the delicate gills.

“You’re a mess right now,” it was the first thing Rafayel said to you. This man had the audacity to tell you that after you allowed him to throat fuck you. You shot him a small glare, almost pouting as you sat up on his tail, your hands at the thick stretch of muscle and scales to help steady yourself.

“Oh, and you aren’t?” you pointed out. He was still panting a little bit, his hair sticking to his forehead with more than just the saltwater of the pool. He let out an amused huff as he also sat up straighter, no longer using the edge of the pool to lean on. Those large, clawed hands grabbed at your hips and lifted you up with ease. He dragged you onto his lap and you could feel his cocks twitching against your cunt, making you gasp.

“You’re worse off than me, at least,” Rafayel said, one of his hands going into your hair. He took it out and showed you the glowing substance on his hand. He had the most amused look on his face from the scowl you wore on your own. “Your hair is covered,” he mentioned as if you didn’t already know you.

You let out a small huff, “It’s fine, at least we’re already in the pool,” you said, but then got an idea. He was being a little too much of a little shit right now for your liking, especially after you deepthroated him like you needed his dick more than air itself. It wasn’t too surprising, Rafayel had always had a bratty attitude and it really shone through when he bottomed for you.

His clawed hand was still in front of you so you grabbed hold of it. You licked his release off his palm, making his breath hitch. You then leaned forward and grabbed his chin, locking your lips with his. He moaned into the kiss, returning it in kind. That was until your tongue played with his own, placing his own release into his mouth. You retreated from him and closed his jaw and raised an eyebrow.

“Swallow it,” you said, and you could watch the conflict in his eyes as he debated if he wanted to actually follow your orders. You watched as his throat bob though, signaling that he had indeed taken it down. He then opened his mouth, his tongue out and you shivered at the sight. His tongue was long. You had felt it earlier when he kissed you, but seeing it was something else entirely. He chuckled at seeing your reaction; he took his tongue back into his mouth since he was satisfied with how he had managed to tease you.

“You know, if we’re trying to clean up some of the cum, I know a better way,” he drawled out, licking his lips. You had no idea what he wanted, but then you saw it. That shit eating grin on his face, now enhanced by sharp, dangerous teeth.

Before you could even ask what he was thinking he was grabbing you again. You let out a small scream as suddenly you were being flipped down into the water. He had been careful not to let anything splash into your mouth, holding you up in the water so only the back of your head was in it. Once you realized what was going on you relaxed more into his grasp as he lowered you more.

His hands went to your hair as he started to get the cum out. It was honestly one of the funniest moments you had ever had with him during sex. You couldn’t help but giggle as he worked on wiping your chin and forehead next, the laughter only increasing until he was laughing alongside you.

“Why are you laughing?” he finally got out, giving you a genuine smile instead of a cocky smirk. You looked up at him and cupped his cheeks in your hands, your thumbs playing with the area where his fins connected to his face.

“Because this, Raf, is fucking ridiculous,” you said through your giggles and he shook his head. He leaned forward, giving you a quick kiss.

“It’s not my fault you didn’t aim it away from you,” he said with a shake of his head. You rolled your eyes as he finished cleaning you off enough that you wouldn’t be uncomfortable. Your body had sunk down into the water, your ass pressing against the bottom of the tanning area. The cool water lapping at your body caused a small shiver to run down your spine.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking about that while I was choking on your other dick,” you said, and he huffed in response. He leaned down again, kissing your neck and then down your chest. You let out a small moan as his hands began exploring your curves, letting the sharp claws drag just enough that it wasn’t going to cut you. He took one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking on it and using his tongue to make you moan.

Your hips rolled up into him and you could feel how his cocks were still squirming, they prehensile appendages dragging along your pussy. You were content for now to let his hands play with you. One of them pressed down between your legs where your clit was. He was so careful to only let the pad of his finger press against you right now, not trusting his claws. You knew letting him finger fuck you was out of the question with how sharp they were, but you let out a content groan as he pressed harder on your clit.

You let out a whine of protest as he took his hand away from your clit, allowing it to trail up your body. He worked on spreading your legs wider to wrap around his waist. His mouth latched onto yours, moaning into you as he could still taste the saltiness of his release still on your tongue. You groaned into him, trying to roll your hips up and begging for something to finally be filling you up.

You tangled one of your hands in his hair, tugging on the locks as he continued to kiss you breathlessly. Just his kiss was driving you mad, and even though you already came you still needed more. You whined against his lips, letting him hear just how impatient you were getting. You felt him smirking against you as he took his mouth away, pressing a kiss to your neck.

A gasp escaped you as soon as one of his cocks pressed against your entrance. It was the bottom one, his top cock resting over your stomach as it squirmed there. You groaned, feeling the tip of him slipping inside of you with ease, eliciting a moan from him as well.

“I thought I’d get to ride you,” you said, feeling him slipping more of his length into your tight heat. He was already panting against your shoulder, his hands grasping your hips to keep you still against him. His tail heavy on your body, your legs spread out wide to accommodate his sheer side in this form.

He was probably halfway in when his forehead was against you, “Change of plans,” he hissed out, trying to take it slow. You could feel the member moving inside of you, causing your hips to twitch. Your insides were squeezing him already, trying to coax him deeper into you. There was no pain as he pressed a little more into you, then began removing his hips. He was working far too slowly for your liking right now, probably trying to prevent himself from coming too fast.

When he began pushing back inside your theory was quickly debunked. You had forgotten just how much thicker the base of his cock was in this form. A small gasp escaping you as he fit another inch into you, right where it got thick. You looked down between your bodies, barely able to see his cock inside of you. The top cock was blocking the view and you whined a little bit as he slipped the rest in.

He settled inside of you for a moment, allowing himself to just relax in your heat. You squirmed underneath him and pouted, “Raf…” you murmured, making him look up at you. You shuddered when his cock began moving inside your pussy, grazing against places inside of you that you didn’t think you’d ever felt reached. You groaned, trying to control yourself as you spoke, “Please, fuck I need more,” you groaned out.

He shushed you, his hands on your hips squeezing you gently, “I just need a moment, pearl,” He said, rolling his cock into you, “Or else I might cum too quickly,” he said, his voice wavering slightly as he spoke.

“Raf, if you think that’s gonna make you cum too quickly, would now be a bad time to tell you I want both your cocks in me?” you asked, squeezing down on his shaft. Rafayel’s head popped up from your shoulders, looking at you. You could see how his ears wiggled as he looked down at you in awe.

“You want to take both of them?” he asked, his voice in almost disbelief. You nodded your head, reaching your hand between your bodies and squeezing the larger cock that was against his stomach. He gasped while instinctually rolling up into you. Your own moan echoed out as you looked at him with the most needy expression you could muster.

“Please, wanna feel myself being split open by you,” you asked him, knowing he had a hard time saying no to you in the bedroom. You watched as his throat bob as he swallowed thickly and nodded his head. That cute glow on his cheeks was coming back full force, accentuating the fact that this man certainly was far from being a normal human.

“If you’re sure…did you want them both in your…” he couldn’t even get the words out right now, not when you were squeezing him and begging him for more.

“Both in my pussy, please, if it gets too uncomfortable you can put the bottom one in my ass,” you suggested. He let out another groan, his cocks pulsing at your lewd and straightforward words. All shame had left you the moment you saw how good he looked like this, now all you wanted was the full experience.

Rafayel began slipping his cock out of you and grasping his other. You could feel both tips at your entrance, sighing when the heads were inside. You were thankful that they were tapered, and he had already fucked you open a little with his smaller size. Rafayel looked like he was concentrating on not just shoving them both into you at once.

You were panting as you felt him stretching you out more. You could feel the stretch, the burn of it all as he continued. Then as it pushed a little more in your hands shot to grab onto his biceps, hissing a little in pain, “W-wait, give me a sec,” you groaned. You needed to adjust to his sheer size as you looked down at his cocks. He wasn’t even halfway inside of you, and for a brief moment you wondered if you’d even be capable of taking them both.

Rafayel stopped right away, taking in a few deep breaths. You could see how his gills seemed to almost flutter as he tried calming himself down. He licked his lips, “Are you sure you want to take both of them?” he finally asked and you nodded.

“Very sure, I want to feel them all,” you said, noticing how the pain was subsiding pretty quickly. You had expected it to take a long longer and you looked up at him. You had used toys in the past, and normally you had to fuck yourself on the tips of the larger sizes before it got comfortable enough to slide more in. Now it was almost completely gone, and you felt like you could easily slip more of him, relaxing around his lengths.

“Hey Raf…” you started and he hummed in response, “Do your dicks have…uh…” you began. You did think it was weird how you were able to deepthroat him earlier, something you had never successfully done in the past. You smacked your lips, realizing that your throat still had a slightly numb feeling to it. Oh…there was no way it wasn’t what you thought it was. The only question was why didn’t getting speared on the bottom cock cause it to numb enough for the second to slip in fast. You had more questions in need of answering, even if he was currently trying to put his dicks in you.

Rafayel actually let out a small, amused huff, “Did you just now figure it out?” he was teasing despite how breathless his voice came out. You let out a whine, glaring at him as you squeezed his arms tighter. You slowly let go of them, resting on your forearms as you took in the view of him.

“Okay, but why didn’t it set in with the bottom cock?” sure it apparently had numbed you enough to slip it in, but the top cock had been immediate. It had only been about a minute since he slipped it in and already the numbing effect was taking hold. Besides, of course you were just now noticing, you were too preoccupied with wanting his dicks inside of every orifice in your body to really register how your throat felt.

It seemed Rafayel decided to just answer you rather than continue teasing how oblivious you had been, “A Lemurian’s slick can be a numbing agent so it’s easier to take…ah…” he realized the information he was giving out with how your eyes widened. He tried swerving his comment, “The uh…larger of the two produces a stronger version…” it was too late to get out of this one.

You looked like you had just hit the jackpot as you leaned up, cupping his cheeks in your hands despite the awkward angle causing one hell of a core workout. He might’ve been laying down on you almost completely, but you needed to be right in his face for this one. You forced his eyes to meet your own, “You do lay eggs,” you said in awe.

Rafayel let out a groan, “You’re far too excited about this,” he said, taking his upper body and pressing you down into the water more so you wouldn't have to be leaning up anymore. You felt the coolness of the water lapping at your face, the only thing keeping it up was Rafayel’s hand. “It’s only possible around Ebb Day, or our mating cycles,”

He felt how you clenched at the thought of it as he hissed, clearly enjoying how tight you were around both of his cocks. “You have mating cycles? When is yours? How often is it?” you began firing off questions, and he could only look at you in confusion.

“Are you really asking this while I’m trying to fuck you?” as if trying to accentuate his point he slid his cocks further into you. You gasped at the feeling of fullness taking over and you could only chuckle at how funny this was. He seemed to almost be pouting, wanting to just rail you, and here you were playing twenty questions with your cute Lemurian.

“You said I could ask questions,” you teased him, “And besides, I need to know when I can get you to fill me up with eggs,” you said. The thought of it was already making you more needy. You felt ready to cum just from the thought of being so full of the man above you.

Rafayel was stunned as he stared down at you. You just kept surprising him time and time again tonight as he finally broke the silence, “You don’t think that’s weird…at all?” he finally said. You opened your mouth to respond, but with the way his cock squirmed inside of you as if it was also interested had you groaning. You had to take a moment, small pants leaving your mouth as you tried connecting your brain back to your mouth.

“Rafayel, if I need to get an ovipositor dildo, ride it, then fill myself with fake eggs in front of you just to prove how much I find it hot, I will,” you said, almost laughing at how he seemed to like that idea. “I want it almost as much as I want the rest of your cocks to be buried inside of me right now,” it was a hint to begin fucking you again.

He let out another huff, gripping your hip again as he began sliding his cocks into you. This time it was a lot easier, your cunt taking him easily and stretching without a hint of pain. You could only feel the pressure of it all inside of you and it had your mind going blank yet again. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head. You felt how the scales were rubbing against your clit and you were already so close to the edge just by being filled.

When he began actually thrusting into you, you lost it completely. You let out a cry as your cunt clamped down on him, your body shuddering as you came. It wasn’t overwhelming, but it was enough for your eyes to squeeze shut as your entire body felt that euphoric warmth spreading all over it. Rafayel gasped at how tight you suddenly were around him, placing slopping kisses along your collarbone as he continued thrusting into you, working you through it.

When you were finally opening your eyes you looked up at him, your eyes wide. You honestly hadn’t expected to cum the instant he started moving in you. He had the cockiest look on his face, “Did you just cum, pearl?” he asked the most obvious question known to man, making you pout.

“Obviously,” you murmured, knowing he knew just how your body responded whenever you came. He chuckled, leaning down for a quick kiss. He seemed satisfied to have this effect on you at least, rolling his hips into you at a slower pace so he didn’t overwhelm you right off the bat.

With how thick both of his dicks were it was impossible for it to not get to be too much, and you clenched down on his arms, trying to calm yourself down. You felt sensitive all over right now as you swallowed thickly and Rafayel could easily pick up on this.

“Did you need a break?” he asked, his voice a little hoarse from need. You were grateful he was holding himself back for your sake. You only shook your head, not wanting to stop, but needing something so you weren’t feeling like you couldn’t think. You wanted to remember every sensation right now as you thought of a new idea. If having both his cocks in your pussy was too much, then there was an alternative.

“Can you fuck my ass with one of your cocks instead?” your ass didn’t have as many nerve endings. It would still feel good, but wouldn’t be overwhelming…hopefully. Rafayel was quiet for a moment, thinking things over?

“It’s going to be a bit of a stretch, are you sure you can handle it right now?” he asked, rubbing soothing motions into your hips. You nodded your head; you had never been more certain. Perhaps being horny was clouding all your judgements. This was supposed to help you feel less overwhelmed, but you were probably going to ruin yourself by this. Still, your body was clenching at the idea of both your holes being filled with his cocks.

“It’s fine, and you have two dicks and I have two holes. I already prepped before I came over this evening anyways, so it would be a waste if we didn’t.” you stated and he was now looking more confused than concerned.

“Why did you…prep?” he was certain you hadn’t been expecting to fuck him in his Lemurian form tonight. It had been spontaneous, one conversation leading to actions being taken through a haze of need. You just stared at him with an almost blank expression, blinking slowly as you thought it was obvious.

“I was planning on asking for anal tonight? Why else would I?” you said as though it was a perfectly normal thing to say to your boyfriend. To you it kind of was. You two liked trying different things, and you hadn’t done anal with him yet. When he had invited you over earlier you had thought about it for ten minutes before deciding to just go ahead and prepare.

“Why were you going to ask for that again?” he said, not even knowing you had plans on fucking him tonight. Really that was an issue on his end. He should’ve known if he was going to be anywhere alone with you, you’d find some way for his dick to be in you.

“Thought it would be fun…and I bet it is if you’d put it in already. See, who’s asking all the questions now?” you teased him. He shook his head, finding you almost insufferable. Still, you could feel him sliding his cocks out of you slowly so he could reposition himself.

The moment his cocks were out of you, you took your opportunity. You managed to push him off you until he was on his back. He let out a loud gasp as you climbed on top of him, chuckling. Feeling empty for a moment was helping clear your mind as you looked at Rafayel.

“You did say I could ride you, Raf,” you said, sitting up enough to grab both of his cocks. He let out a groan as you pumped the appendages, feeling how they wrapped around your wrist and tried pulling you closer to him. They were coated in your release and his own slick, and the thought had your pussy aching to be filled again.

You hovered over him, taking the smaller of the two and leading it into your ass. You let just the head in, allowing the taper of it to help ease you on. You then grabbed his larger dick and placed it against the hole of your pussy as you slowly rode the tips. Rafayel’s claws were on your thighs, almost leaving scratches in their wake as he tried letting you control what was happening.

Unsurprisingly, his cocks began sliding inside of you without too much trouble. The bottom one against your ass took more time as you slowly rode it, letting yourself sink more and more onto it every time you went down. The slick of it helped, as well as the subtle numbing; slowly but surely you found yourself fully seated on his tail, both cocks squirming perfectly inside of you. Your eyes closed for a moment, letting the feeling take you over.

To your relief it had been less overwhelming to take one in your ass, feeling it was there but not overfilling just one hole was perfect as you let out a groan. You braced your hands onto his abs and looked at him. He was already fucked out just from seeing you on top of him, and with how his cocks were pulsing you knew he was getting close again.

You began riding him, doing your best to keep a steady rhythm as you felt every inch of him inside of you. Rafayel’s mouth hung open in a moan, his teeth glinting in the moonlight as he watched where your bodies were joined. Seeing how his cocks slid in and out of you, feeling your tight walls as they clenched down on him was all he could’ve ever hoped for. He almost regretted waiting this long, knowing he had deprived himself from the sight of you bouncing so perfectly on two prehensile cocks.

You could already feel that familiar build up coiling in you, knowing you weren’t going to last very long. His cocks were able to milk orgasm after orgasm from you. You closed your eyes, finally shutting up for once as you just took in the moment, letting your head feel blank as you concentrated on riding him.

Rafayel could feel how your walls were clamping down on his shafts and he was getting close too, the edging you had accidentally done to him making it almost unbearable, “F-fuck, just a little more, pearl,” he groaned out, his hands going to your ass.

Rafayel began guiding your movements, making it easier to ride as he picked up the pace. His hips thrusting up to meet your every movement had you gasping, letting it knock the wind right out of your lungs. You cursed taking one hand and pressing down on your clit, rubbing at it as the only thing on your mind was coming again.

That coil snapped inside of you as you came, letting out a cry of his name as you gasped, this time the orgasm crashing into you. Your legs were shaking and your movements got sloppy as you were more or less raming yourself down on his lengths. The only thing keeping the pace was his guiding hands forcing you to keep moving. You could feel that pulse once again, but this time inside of you. Your eyes looking at Rafayel in a haze as he slammed you down on his cocks.

He held you down, allowing his dicks to just move inside as he came. His cum coating your insides which only furthered just how fucking good it all felt. Being so full and having him filling you up was making your mind a jumble, your tongue heavy in your mouth. You didn’t even realize your fingers were scratching at him, leaving little red marks all over his abs and feeling how they moved underneath your touch as he groaned.

Rafayel was able to sit up, taking you by the nape of the neck as he crashed your lips into his own. It was sloppy and hurried, his teeth leaving another small cut on your lip. At the moment you didn’t care, pressing further against his mouth as you tasted him, moaning into his mouth as you basked in the feeling of just being with him.

The hands he had underneath you were used as leverage as he managed to hike you up a little bit on his body. You felt yourself sway as his lips continued their dance with your own, and suddenly you could feel the way Rafayel’s tail worked in the water as he pushed the two of you into the pool as he left the small tanning section.

You could feel something was different with his kisses, and it didn’t dawn on you until suddenly you were plunged under the water. The water wasn’t filling your lungs though, instead Rafayel’s lips left your own and you took a breath underneath the surface. You had seen him use this trick in the past, kissing you and dragging you down, only to find out through some weird Lemurian magic, you weren’t drowning.

He kissed you again after letting your mind process the situation. He coaxed your legs to wrap around his tail, and grabbed your arms and placed them on his shoulders. He took hold of your hips and began moving you again, fucking you on his two cocks underwater and you gasped at the suddeness of it all. Your arms gripping his shoulders tighter, closing your eyes.

Your moans seemed to echo inside of the pool, the sanctuary you had found yourselves in. At the moment the only thing you could even focus on was Rafayel, the water was blocking out everything else to allow you this. You tried opening your eyes, only to see your beautiful Lemurian staring at you, his eyes glowing in the dark water.

Your walls contracted around him when you felt his cock hitting your sweet spot. You swore right now you were seeing little stars in your vision from how good he was fucking you right now. “That’s it, my pearl, my love, my heart, doing so good for me,” Rafayel groaned right into your ear, earning a shiver from you as you pressed your legs closer to his torso. You felt like you two were locked into place, his hands never loosening his grasp on you as though he were afraid you’d slip away.

His soft scales grazing your clit with every thrust as he continued whispering some of the sweetest things to you between sinful grunts. Your mind had long since gone to mush at this point, only able to respond to him with small mewls that escape you, every thrust sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your entire being.

You felt his lips pressing kisses along the column of your neck, the small nips teasing as they threatened to break skin with those razor sharp teeth of his. Your arms were wrapped around him so tightly as you dug your nails into his shoulder blades, leaving scratch marks in their place which only seemed to spur on Rafayel as his thrust got harder; he was fucking you with a reckless sort of abandon, his need for you overflowing with the motions. The only thing helping keep you afloat were his sweet words to make sure you were still with him, still feeling him.

You tried warning Rafayel that you were close, murmuring words that you weren’t even sure were coherent at this point. Your voice was higher in pitch and broken everytime he rutted up into your cunt. He seemed to have gotten the message though, working to angle himself, his tail positioning you, and almost making you scream from how his cocks plunged somehow deeper into you with this angle. Feeling the scales at the very base driving you mad as your nails dug deeper into him.

You came with a cry of his name, your cunt trying to pull an orgasm out of him with how tight it was pulsing around his lengths. You could feel his grip on you get harder, his nails now definitely leaving scratches on your hips that would have to be dealt with at a later time. The pain right now only heightened your release, broken sobs leaving you as he fucked you through it.

You could hear Rafayel’s groan, feel how his own release was near. Then suddenly white hot pain shot through you as his teeth clamped down on your shoulder. You couldn’t find it in you to care, not with how his thrusts had become sloppy and suddenly his spend was painting your walls again. You could physically see some of it leaving you, floating in the water with that bioluminescent glow, causing it to light up the area around you.

The only light was from his release, as well as the streams of moonlight that broke through the surface of the water. It was almost like a dreamscape as you felt his tongue licking at where he had bit you. His cocks squirming inside of your sensitive heat and making you whimper from the stimulation. Your body felt spent and you just knew that you’d be sore come tomorrow morning.

You pressed your forehead up against Rafayel, doing your best to not show your discomfort. Still, your boyfriend was always good at reading you. As the last of his orgasm ebbed away he pressed kisses to you, “You okay?” his voice was husky as he asked, pressing another kiss to your cheek. You opened your eyes, looking at him and nodding.

“Mhm, y-ya I think so…” you said, your tongue still feeling heavy in your mouth. You felt like you needed to sleep for a solid ten years, but being able to bask in this moment with Rafayel was nice. The way his hands were softly pressing against you, helping you come back to yourself. 

“I’m sorry,” He said, pressing a kiss to the area he bit, “I didn’t…I’m really sorry,” he said, feeling regret. He could see the damage he had done in his throes of pleasure, your sides and the bite. He pressed another kiss to it and nuzzled into your neck.

“It’s fine, Raf, it really is. Don’t worry about it,” you assured him. At the moment you liked it; sure in the morning you might have a different opinion, but you didn’t mind being marked by your boyfriend. It wasn’t like he did it on purpose, and you had known things would be different when he was in this form. You were mentally prepared for it, so you weren’t upset that it had happened.

“Are you sure…?” he asked, his hands still rubbing over your hips where there were scratch marks.

“I’m very sure, besides I scratched you up as well,” you said, trying to concentrate on him, but your head was still a little fuzzy. He decided to drop the conversation from now, probably intent on pampering you later as an apology.

You felt him as he lifted you off his cocks, that overwhelming feeling going away. You felt so empty for a moment, looking down at his body and watching the appendages slide back into his vent. You groaned as you looked back up and saw him looking at you, a small smile on his lips. He cupped your cheek, leaning forward to kiss you again. This time it was lazy and relaxed, no hurry or need behind it. Just wanting to simply feel you as he began making his way back to the surface of the water.

That balmy air now felt chilled against your skin the moment he broke through the surface of the water. He took you back to the ledge of the pool, the shallow waters perfect. He laid down with you on top of him when he finally parted his lips from you.

His hand brushing your wet hair out of your face so he could look at you. You were trying to catch your breath currently, the sudden change from water to breathing air was always a slightly uncomfortable experience. You hadn’t noticed it as much when he took you underneath the surface due to being distracted, but now you could feel it.

Rafayel allowed you the moment to get accustomed to it again, pulling you to lay down on his chest. You could feel his heartbeat as it began calming down in time with your own. His hands going through and massaging your scalp until you shifted on him, feeling a little more like yourself once more.

“Alive?” he said, his voice clearer than it had been underwater, that echo now gone. You let out a small huff as you closed your eyes, not even bothering to look at him for a moment. This was now your happy place, his other hand on your waist as he held you close to him.

“Might be a lil brain dead, but I’ll be fine,” you got out and followed your statement with a yawn. The thought of having to shower and clean up was daunting, but if you knew anything you could convince Rafayel to do the hard work. He would probably even carry you inside after all of that. Your legs currently felt like jelly anyway, so there was no way you’d be walking anywhere yourself as it was.

“Is now a good time to let you know that once the numbing is gone you might be a little bit sore?” he asked and you actually groaned, burying your face into his chest. In the heat of the moment you had forgotten all about that. You were fairly certain during your passionate joining he had been slamming his cock right up against your cervix. Something normally uncomfortable had felt great when it had numbed you up enough. 

“I’m not going to be able to walk tomorrow…or the next day…” you realized and he chuckled, his chest vibrating. You propped your chin up on his chest, glaring at him.

“I did tell you we’d have to do this when you had a day off scheduled…” he said and you closed your eyes and tried thinking back to that conversation. He had warned you, but really you hadn’t expected getting fucked like this tonight. You had cum…four times? It wasn’t a record for you two by any means, but the way it happened was unique.

“Fuck…you’re taking care of me tomorrow, Raf,” you’d be needing pain killers. Your thighs were already going to be hurting from riding him, but now your entire body was going to be protesting. Not to mention the man had literally left wounds on you. You could feel the string of the bite mark on your shoulder, along with the small gashes on your hips. Even your lips were stinging a little bit. You were absolutely wrecked at the moment.

“So, did that answer some of your questions?” Rafayel asked. You had to take a moment before an actual laugh escaped you. You had been so enthusiastic about asking him every question, and you had been doing so good until he began fucking your brains out. You pressed a kiss to his chest and looked up at him with a mischievous glint.

“I think I have some more questions that I need answered, actually,” you began, and Rafayel looked at you curiously, “Looks like we’re going to have to do this again sometime. Especially during that mating cycle of yours. What do Lemurian eggs look like?” you asked. He closed his eyes and realized you hadn’t forgotten about that conversation.

Instead of giving you a response he just adjusted you on his body so he could reach your lips, giving them a sweet kiss as his hand played with your cheek lovingly. He pressed his forehead against your own and looked at you. Sometimes the look he gave you had your heart almost stopping. Butterflies going wild in your stomach. It was like he was looking at the most important thing in the world, like there was so much more about your relationship that you couldn’t fathom. The loyalty he showed had once brought you to tears when he had done this, but right now you held strong, only allowing a small gasp to leave you.

“I love you,” his voice was softer now, as were his eyes. You let out a small noise from the back of your throat, not even knowing how to respond to him. You loved him so much it sometimes hurt. He was always on your mind, like a piece of you that you didn't realize was missing until you met him.

Still, the way he said things you couldn’t match, not yet, so you defaulted to what you were most comfortable with in your relationship. “I love you too, fishie,” you teased him with a smile. A small, offended noise left Rafayel as he looked at you.

“Fishie? Really?” he said, his voice whiny as he pouted. Seeing him go back to your silly artist relaxed you tremendously and you smirked.

“How about Sharkie then? You did bite me, after all,” you said, pointing at your shoulder. He glanced at it and gave you a sheepish smile. He had already apologized for it, and you knew he felt guilty, but he was good at playing things off. “Gotta say, if it doesn’t scar you might have to try again. Nobody will believe I won a battle against a shark if there’s no mark to prove it,” you teased.

“You want me to bite you…again…in the future?” he asked slowly, checking to see if he was reading it right.

“Ya, I think couple tattoos are so out of date. I’ll bite you next time as well, if you want,” you smirked at how he blushed. He took your hand and gave it a small kiss.

“I’d rather not be maimed by you,” he said with a huff, but the way his ears wiggled was telling enough, “So are you ready to head back in?” he asked.

“Ask me in ten minutes if the feeling in my legs ever return,” this got a laugh out of him. For the umpteenth time that night, you found yourself melting into a kiss with your dear Rafayel.

Hope y'all enjoyed. This took forever to write but I did have a lot of fun in the process!

[sprawberry]

𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 : 3.6k ‹𝟹

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 : Arthur Morgan x F!reader. You were a very young bride falling in love with a man who was nothing but a farce, enduring years trapped in a horrible and abusive marriage. You meet Arthur, with the promise of a better future. ‹𝟹

𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 : Hello! So...I was in a very strange mood and I decided to write this one, I had this idea for actually a good few months but this time I finally put it down instead of using it as a recurrent scenario in my mind.

This is the first time I'm posting something like this here so...enjoy! Sorry if it gets boring or something, I'm a disgrace with dialogue and this was a very wild shot lol. Feedback is appreciated always.. ‹𝟹

🧸 & 🧸 ‹𝟹

You should have listened to your parents when they whispered warnings about him, their voices laced with worry as they tried to tell you the truth hidden behind his charming smile. But you, blinded by the intoxicating idea of love, thought they were just trying to stand between you and your perfect future. You were so young, so naïve, and he was almost ten years older, wiser, with promises of the world at your fingertips.

He swept you off your feet with grand gestures: the dream house, children, fancy clothes, and dinners at tables you’d never seen before. He spoke of a life you never had, feeding you sweet words as though he could erase the struggles of your youth with luxury. But you didn’t realize, not until it was too late, that he didn’t love you, he loved the idea of owning something beautiful, something fragile. You were never more than a pretty thing to him, a prize for display, and by the time you saw the truth, it was already too late.

Once the honeymoon was over, that picture-perfect dream crumbled, leaving you trapped in a gilded cage. Instead of being happy and loved, you became a prisoner in your own home.

Years passed, and the mansion, once a dream, became your prison. You wandered its vast, cold hallways like a ghost, barely existing, never free. You weren’t allowed outside, not allowed to live. He controlled everything, your life, your children, even your thoughts. You lived for the moments when you were alone with your books, imagining a world where you could be free. But freedom felt impossible, a distant dream too far out of reach.

Even your children, the only light left in your life, were kept from you, locked away by his paranoia. He was convinced you’d ruin them, that your only contribution to their lives was the beauty you gave them. He told you so, over and over until the words sank in like poison. After all those years, it broke your heart that you believed him.

His wealth was built on secrets, the kind of shady dealings you were never allowed to question. Late-night meetings with town politicians and criminals weren’t unusual in your home, the smell of expensive cigars and hushed conversations lingering long after the guests had left. You were always present but never really there, a decoration, something for him to parade in front of his associates like a prized possession.

He would place a hand on your back, guiding you into the room, his eyes gleaming with pride as he introduced you. "My beautiful wife, yet her body is more useful than her brain," he'd say with a chuckle, and they would laugh with him, nodding in approval. You were supposed to laugh, too, forced to flash a smile that never reached your eyes.

In those moments, you felt more like an ornament than a person, a living, breathing doll meant to be admired, but never truly valued. His grip on you was suffocating, tightening with each public display, as if his words kept binding you deeper into a life you could never escape. The weight of their laughter echoed in your ears long after they left, and every time he kissed your cheek in front of them, you felt yourself disappear just a little more.

You found solace in the smallest of things, the tasks you could perform around the house without drawing his disapproving gaze. The delicate act of watering the plants or dusting the bookshelves became a quiet rebellion, a way to keep your mind occupied while the rest of your life felt out of your control. But it was the garden, those carefully tended beds of flowers, that brought you the most peace. Every spring, as the roses bloomed and the trees filled with new life, you felt a fleeting sense of freedom, even if only for a moment.

That day was no different. You were given a brand new dress, elegant but understated, signaling that guests would soon arrive. The familiar routine played out like clockwork, he made sure you looked the part, beautiful but not so dazzling as to outshine him. The fabric swished as you moved, and though the dress was lovely, it felt like another cage.

You stole glances out the window, watching the garden sway gently in the breeze, its beauty untamed compared to the rigid, controlled world inside. You knew the house would soon be filled with laughter, cigars, and the empty praise of those who admired you as a trophy. But for now, you had the flowers. And in their quiet blooming, you saw the reflection of what your life could be if only you were free enough to reach for it.

The footsteps of your husband approaching echoed down the hall, pulling you from the window. You sighed, smoothing the fabric of your dress, and prepared to step into the role he’d crafted for you once again.

"Dutch Van der Linde, I'm glad you came", your husband said, extending his hand with that calculated charm he was so known for. His fingers rested on the small of your back, a possessive gesture masked as affection. "And your associates, of course," he added, his voice smooth as ever.

You were barely paying attention to the formalities, the cordial exchanges that had become a monotonous part of your life. The room felt distant like you were standing there but floating somewhere else entirely. Your gaze softened, unfocused until a small shift in the air brought you back. You blinked slowly, forcing yourself to return to the present as your husband and his associates retreated into his office.

But one of them lingered in your mind.

You hadn't noticed him at first, he was just another face in a crowd of men your husband normally entertained, and to be honest, you never paid much attention to those who came and went.

But there was something in the way he looked at you, something unspoken in the warmth of his small smile. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it struck you deeply. The kindness in his expression, the quiet acknowledgment in his eyes, it was so different from the cold, calculated glances you were used to.

For a brief moment, you nearly smiled back. It felt strange, like an old reflex you hadn’t used in years. The simple exchange, so casual yet delicate, left an unexpected warmth in your chest. And as your husband’s voice trailed off into the distance, you couldn’t help but wonder, what was it about him that made you feel seen, if only for a fleeting second?

With that thought burning in your mind, you did something reckless, something you knew deep down you probably shouldn’t have. As the evening unfolded and the guests began to depart, instead of retreating to your bedroom as usual, you lingered in the hallway, heart pounding. You waited. You wanted to see him one last time.

Oh, Arthur. That was his name. You’d heard the Dutch guy mention it in passing as they discussed some murky business you had no interest in. You didn’t care about the details. All you cared about was catching another glimpse of him, those blue eyes that had met yours with something you hadn’t felt in years.

You stood quietly by the grand staircase, hidden enough to remain unnoticed but close enough to see. As the men filtered out, you scanned the room until your eyes found him. Arthur. He was different from the rest of them, or so you thought, rough around the edges but with a presence that seemed grounded, real. And when he glanced your way, just for a second, his eyes softened again. It was that small look, that brief acknowledgement, that felt like a lifeline in the endless sea. Your breath caught in your throat. His smile, faint yet kind, was enough to make your heart ache in a way you hadn’t felt in so long.

And though he was leaving, though you knew you might never see him again, you couldn’t help but wish, desperately, that those warm blue eyes would find you just once more before he disappeared from your world forever.

One particular night, under a silver-washed sky, you drifted through the quiet shadows of the garden, where the moon hung high, illuminating every petal and leaf. Inside, laughter spilt over like cheap champagne, glasses clinking and voices rising in an annoying clashing harmony, one you had no part in.

It was your home, they all said. But within those walls, your presence was a ghostly afterthought, a figure to be ignored or displayed as it suited him. So you slipped out, slipping into the garden's quiet embrace—a place where you could finally breathe.

The night air was cool, and you felt a weight lift from your chest with each step into the hushed stillness.

You leaned against the old stone wall, letting your mind wander with the breeze that stirred the hedges, feeling, just for a moment, that you belonged to something beyond those oppressive walls. In the moonlit quiet, surrounded by the scent of blooms and damp soil, you almost forgot the life you left behind indoors, that gilded cage.

“Miss, ain’t it a bit cold to be out here all alone?” The voice came soft and low, like the distant rumble of thunder before a storm, and it pulled you sharply from your quiet reverie. The faint scent of cigarettes filled the air as you turned, caught off guard, and there he was, Arthur, framed in shadow and starlight, looking even more striking than your memory had dared to capture. His eyes catching the silver moonlight, tracing over you with a subtle warmth.

A month had passed since that fleeting moment in the were your eyes met, yet here he was as if pulled by the same invisible thread that had tugged at your heart all those long nights. His gaze lingered, and a soft smile touched his lips, a smile that felt like it could chase the chill from the air.

And the first time in so long, words caught in your throat. You could only look at him, feeling the world fall away, leaving just the two of you under that deep, star-filled sky.

The chill of the evening wrapped around you, yet his nearness was a quiet warmth you couldn’t ignore. “It's alright, I'm not cold.” You whispered, the words slipping out steady even though your heart betrayed you, hammering as if it sensed the weight of this moment.

Arthur’s gaze held yours, deep and steady, as if he were looking straight into you. He didn’t need to say anything; the look in his eyes was a silent promise, an unspoken invitation that pulled you in. A gentle breeze brushed past, lifting a few strands of your hair, and he reached out, fingertips just grazing your cheek as he tucked them back.

His touch lingered, a fleeting warmth that made the coldness around you dissolve. “Figured you might need some company.” He murmured, voice so low it barely broke the night air. His hand dropped, hovering close, waiting. And in that small space between you, there was a sense of home you’d been missing, a kind of peace you hadn’t felt in years.

A soft smile curved on your lips. “What a gentleman." You murmured back, amusement sparking in your eyes. “Offering company to a stranger.”

Arthur’s brow lifted slightly, a glint of knowing in his gaze as he replied, “You ain’t no stranger.” He leaned in just a little, his voice dipping to something almost conspiratorial. “You’re the lady of the house, ain’t ya?”

The title felt foreign, heavy even. Lady of the house, how odd it sounded coming from him, as though he were trying to fit you into a shape someone else had carved. You didn’t answer right away, letting the weight of it settle. Finally, you nodded, just a breath of agreement. Even if you both already knew who the other was.

“But I reckon you don’t feel much like one, do ya?” he asked, studying you with a kind of quiet understanding that threatened to undo you right there.

"How could you even know that?" The words slipped out before you could stop them, raw and honest, and for a moment, you wanted to kick yourself for laying so bare before this near stranger.

Arthur didn’t flinch. He only held your gaze, his eyes softened by something deeper than pity, an understanding that felt like a balm and a wound all at once. He shrugged, almost casual, as if he hadn’t just seen right through you.

It was strange, really. A part of you knew you should bristle at his casual insight, that you ought to defend your position, to guard the fragile narrative of your life. Yet, standing there beneath the moon's watchful gaze, a magnetic pull urged her to lean into the honesty of the moment.

"Just a feeling," he murmured, his voice low, steady. "Seen that look before, y’know? Same as the ones trapped and miserable, thinkin’ the walls don’t show."

His presence felt like an open door, an invitation to unburden her heart, to spill her secrets onto the floor between them. You felt the weight of your words pressing against her throat, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you wanted to share every scar and shadow.

"It's not what it seems." You found herself saying, your voice barely above a whisper, each word a fragile thread that could unravel at any moment. "I’m more of a prisoner than a lady."

The night wrapped around them like a silken veil, soft and tender, and for a fleeting moment, she almost forgot where you were. Her gaze met his, and the warmth in his eyes melted away her walls. He didn’t look at you the way others did, there was no judgment, no pity.

“Tell me." He said, voice barely above a whisper, the gentle gravel in it like music. “If you could be anywhere right now, where would you be?”

Your breath caught, and you tried to laugh, but it came out as a shaky sigh. “Somewhere far from here." You replied, looking away, though the longing in your heart felt almost too fragile to share. “Somewhere I could just… breathe.”

Slowly, his hand came to rest on your cheek, grounding you, his touch gentle yet electrifying. You looked back up at him, surprise mingling with the quiet thrill that rippled through you. “I could take you.” He said softly, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes, but there was something else, too—a promise wrapped in his words, as if he truly meant it with all his heart. “Just say the word, and I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

For a moment, you allowed herself to imagine it, just the two of you, leaving the mansion’s heavy walls behind, escaping the life that held her captive. You let the dream fill your mind, painting a picture of freedom in his arms, of waking to gentle mornings where laughter replaced fear.

“Arthur.” You whispered, his name slipping from your lips like a secret, one you hadn’t known you'd been keeping. Your pulse raced, your heart pounding in your chest, and you found yourself leaning closer, drawn in by the warmth radiating from him.

“You don’t know what you’re saying.” You murmured, your voice barely steady, though you couldn’t hide the yearning that laced your words.

“Maybe not.” He replied, his eyes tracing the lines of her face, drinking in every detail as though you were a rare and beautiful thing he wanted to memorize. “But I know I’ve never met anyone like you, and I know I’d do just about anything to see ya safe.”

The words hung between them, charged with the weight of possibility, and you felt something shift within you, a stirring of hope that tasted bittersweet. “I don’t even know who I am outside of this place." You confessed, barely able to hold his gaze, afraid he’d see the depth of your vulnerability.

“You’re more than this.” He said, voice as steady and sure as the earth beneath their feet. His fingers brushing her cheek, lingering just a heartbeat longer than necessary, his calloused thumb tracing your lower lip. “You’re strong, more than you know. And if you ever want to find out who that person is, I’ll be right here.”

A shiver ran through you, though it wasn’t from the cold. Your heart felt full and fragile all at once, and you found herself leaning into his touch, just the faintest tilt of her head, but enough to feel his warmth seep into your skin.

“And...what if I wanted to be with you?” You whispered, the words leaving you before you could second-guess them.

In the soft, quiet night, with only the stars bearing witness, you closed your eyes and leaned into him, the weight of the world slipping away, if only for a heartbeat. And in that embrace, you found a glimmer of herself, mirrored back in the warmth of his arms, a fragile piece of happiness cradled between them, ready to grow.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, gentle yet filled with something deep and unspoken. He cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing small, comforting circles. “Then we’d find a way." He murmured, his voice a promise, rich and soothing, as though he could already see their escape in some distant dawn. “Ain't never let you face it alone.”

As days slipped by, that promise he made wrapped itself around your heart, tugging softly with each stolen glance and whispered word. Those midnight clandestine encounters in the hidden corners of the garden, were yours alone.

In those moments, the mansion and all its trappings faded away, leaving only the two of you, a world built from whispered secrets and lingering touches.

At first, it was all so gentle. His hand would brush against yours, fingers lingering for a heartbeat too long, an unspoken language only you both understood. His gaze held a softness you had never seen before, something that softened the edges of your bruised heart, making it flutter with a sweetness you hadn’t known you could feel again. Or at all to be honest.

But it grew, like a spark catching in dry tinder, his touch became something fierce, driven by longing that simmered just beneath the surface. Those touches turned electric, his hands finding your face, your shoulders, his fingers tracing the curve of your spine as if memorizing every inch, every hollow, and line of you. In the quiet dark, he became bolder, lips brushing over your cheek, the corner of your mouth, as if testing the waters of a dream he was afraid to shatter.

And then, one night, all pretense faded. Under the stars, he pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you as if he could hold the weight of your sorrows and make them vanish. His lips found yours, soft yet sure, a kiss that spoke of all the promises he couldn’t yet give voice to. It was fierce and tender, full of longing that had been held back for too long, and you melted into him, feeling the strength of his arms, the steady beat of his heart beneath your palms.

Each touch both hesitant and urgent, as though he was savoring and devouring all at once. His hands were steady on you, protective, as though you were something precious and precarious, yet there was a fierce devotion in his hold, a hint of need that spoke volumes of all he kept contained.

He drew you in, closing every inch until nothing separated you, his lips melding with yours, each press and taste a promise, a claim. His hands moved along your back with a firm reverence, grounding you, until the world faded and all that remained was the shared warmth, the silent understanding woven in the spaces between breaths.

In that instant, the world seemed to dissolve, slipping away as you became tethered only to him and the fierce, unyielding pull between you. Your fingers tightened in his shirt, clutching as though you could anchor yourself within him, merge with him, dissolve the space that still somehow lingered. Each breath, each shiver became shared, the air thick with an almost reverent desperation.

His lips left yours, and the absence was agonizing, only to be replaced by the feverish touch as he traced his way along the curve of your neck, each kiss a spark that ignited something deeper within. When he whispered your name, it was low, raw, a sound that clung to your skin like an invocation, his breath warm against you.

Together, you lost track of time, wrapped in the heat of each other, a silent vow exchanged in every shared breath, every racing heartbeat. There, in the secret dark, you were free, free to feel, to want, to imagine a life where the nights stretched on like this forever. And as you clung to each other, you realized that he had given you something your husband never could: love.

And with that resolve warming your heart, the decision became clear. You deserved happiness, a life spent with someone who looked at you with the unwavering affection that Arthur did, who saw you for everything you were, flaws and all. The promise he’d made, that quiet vow on the night of your first meeting, lingered like a light guiding your way.

In Arthur’s gaze, you found the reflection of a life you’d thought impossible, a life where love was more than a duty, where devotion was tender and free. So you held onto that promise, your heart certain at last.

[cloverina]

WILD NIGHT..

warnings: Scott smoking pot, masturbation, blowjob, cumplay, cumshot (facial) and I think that’s it! If i missed any lmk!

wc- 1888.

A/N: guys this fic sucks ass😭😭😭 i wrote it when i was half asleep so if there’s any mistakes let me know!

The air in the cabin had anticipation. The pine-scented breeze from outside Mount Horizon's camp did little to alleviate the stifling heat that had settled within the four wooden walls. You sat on the edge of your bottom bunk, glancing at the digital clock that read 2:33 AM, the red glow piercing the darkness. The room was silent, save for the occasional rustle of fabric from Scott's bed. You had been waiting for him to leave, hoping he'd sneak out for his nightly rendezvous with the camp's "green fairy."

Finally, the moment arrived. The door clicked open, and you heard Scott's footsteps fade into the night. You exhaled, feeling a strange mix of excitement and anxiety. This was your chance, your time to indulge in a private moment of intimacy that you hadn't allowed yourself in weeks. The cabin was eerily still, the other campers lost to the oblivion of sleep. You slid under the rough blankets and reached into your bag, pulling out your headphones and phone, the screen dimmed to avoid light spilling into the room.

You put on a song that always set the mood, the whispers of an alternative rock song (i imagined the killing moon by echo & the bunnymen) serenading your solitude. Your heart thudded against your ribcage as you began to unbutton your shorts. Your hand trembled slightly, not from fear but from the pent-up desire you had kept caged for so long. The room was a cocoon of darkness, the only light coming from the glow of the phone screen, casting shadows that danced on the ceiling. You touched yourself, tentatively at first, and then with more confidence as the music grew louder in your ears, drowning out the whispers of doubt that had held you back.

Your fingers found the warm, damp fabric of your underwear and slid beneath it. Your clit was already swollen, begging for attention, and you didn't disappoint. You began to circle it with the pad of your thumb, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure through your body. You bit your bottom lip to muffle the soft moans that wanted to escape, the sound of the music just enough to cover your secret. The fabric of your panties grew wetter with every pass, sticking to your skin, a testament to your building arousal.

The friction grew more intense as your other hand slipped into your shorts. You felt the slickness of your own juices as you parted your folds and inserted a finger inside, the tightness making you gasp. You curled it, searching for that sweet spot you hadn't visited in what felt like an eternity. Your thumb remained on your clit, the rhythm increasing in speed and pressure, your breaths turning into quiet pants. The heady scent of your arousal filled the small space around you, mixing with the faint scent of pine and the faint tang of the cleaning supplies from earlier in the day.

Just as the first waves of your climax began to build, you felt a sudden chill in the air. You ignored it, assuming it was the AC kicking in, focusing solely on the pleasure spiraling through your core. But then, you heard the unmistakable sound of the cabin door opening and closing, the floorboards creaking under the weight of footsteps. Panic flooded your veins like ice water, your body tensing as you realized Scott had returned. The music in your ears was too loud, a cocoon of sound that had shielded you from the reality outside your personal bubble. You froze, your finger still buried inside, your hand paused above your clit.

"Scott?" you whispered, the question barely audible over the music. It was a risk, but you needed to know if he was there, if he had caught you. The room remained still, and you held your breath, your heart hammering in your chest. The silence was deafening, thick with unspoken tension. Then, from across the room, a sound that sent a bolt of shock through your body - a whiney-dopey tone, a clear indication of his usual stoned-arousal. He thinks he’s slick, he thinks you don’t notice he gets incredibly needy and hard after he smokes pot. "Yeah?" he replied, his voice thick and needy. He hadn't noticed your furtive movements, lost in his own world of desire.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly, ever so slowly, pulled your fingers out of your shorts. The sticky wetness clung to your skin, and you bit your lip to keep from making a sound. The tension in the room was palpable, a silent dance of anticipation and fear. You could feel your pulse racing in your ears, the music a distant echo as you carefully untangled yourself from the headphones. Your eyes searched the darkness for any sign of movement, any indication that he had realized what you were doing.

But the room remained still. Scott's breathing was the only sound that filled the space now, heavy and erratic. You realized, with a mix of shock and arousal, that he was standing just a few feet away from your bed, his hand clamped over his mouth to stifle his own moans. His silhouette was outlined against the moonlit window, the faint light highlighting the tension in his shoulders and the subtle jerk of his hips. It dawned on you that he was jacking off, his hand moving in time with his own secret rhythm. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks - you weren't alone in your midnight escapade.

Your eyes adjusted to the darkness, and you could make out the outline of his hand moving rapidly up and down the shaft of his cock. The fabric of his boxers was pulled tight around his erection, the head peeking out from the waistband. His eyes were squeezed shut, lost in the throes of his own pleasure. You felt a strange sense of kinship with him in that moment, two roommates unknowingly sharing a silent, intimate moment. The realization that you weren't the only one craving release in the dead of night sent a fresh wave of heat to your core.

"Scott!" you exclaimed, the suddenness of your voice cutting through the quiet like a knife. His eyes flew open, and his hand stilled. For a second, you weren't sure if he had heard you, but then his body tensed, he whined your name and you saw the tell-tale spurt of cum shoot from his cock, painting his stomach in a sticky white arc. Now that made your puffy, pink pussy practically pulsate his name in morse code!!

"Oh my god, ‘m so sorry" he slurred, his speech laced with the unmistakable haze of his high. His eyes searched the darkness, trying to find you, to gauge your reaction. "I couldnt help ‘mself," he mumbled, his voice filled with a mix of pleasure and regret.

You stared at him, your hand hovering over the button of your shorts, your own desire momentarily forgotten. The sight of him, standing there with his cum-covered stomach and guilt-stricken eyes, was almost comical. But there was something about the vulnerability in his stance, the way his body shivered with the aftershocks of his orgasm, that tugged at your heartstrings. He mumbled “I promise ‘m gonna clean up.. might need your help though.”

Swiveling around, you found yourself sitting on the edge of his bed, the mattress groaning under the weight of his body as he slumped down beside you. His hand was still on his cock, now limp and sticky, and you couldn't help but stare at the mess on his abs. It was a strange moment, one that could have been filled with embarrassment or anger, but instead, it was filled with an odd sense of camaraderie. You reached out, your hand grazing over the warm, sticky trails of cum, and he flinched at your touch.

"Let me help," you whispered, surprising even yourself with the words that spilled out. Without waiting for a response, you straddled his thighs, the soft fabric of his shorts brushing against your bare skin. He was still for a moment, his eyes wide with shock, before nodding slowly. You leaned over him, your hair creating a curtain around his torso, and began to lick at the mess he had made. The salty taste filled your mouth, and you couldn't ignore the way his body reacted to your ministrations.

His abs twitched under your tongue, the muscles tensing as you traced the sticky lines of cum with the tip of your tongue. The action was almost tender, your mouth moving over his skin with a gentle insistence that had his breath hitching in his throat. His hand hovered over your head, unsure of what to do, until you looked up at him, a question in your eyes. He swallowed hard, and with a trembling hand, he guided you to the next droplet, his eyes never leaving yours.

The taste of him was addictive, and your body responded with a renewed wave of arousal. Your own juices grew slicker, your clit pulsing with the need for more. As you continued to clean him, you could feel his cock begin to harden once again. You couldn't resist the urge to lean closer, taking the head into your mouth and sucking gently. The salty flavor of his orgasm mixed with the metallic taste of his skin, and you moaned around him, the vibration causing him to jump.

Scott's hand found its way to the back of your head, guiding you in a silent rhythm. His breathing grew harsher, his hips jerking up to meet your eager mouth. You took him deeper, your tongue swirling around the tip, feeling him grow harder and more substantial with each stroke. His thighs tightened beneath you, his fingers digging into your hair as you took him in deeper, feeling his cock hit the back of your throat. You pulled back, gasping for air, only to watch him stroke himself again, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You okay?" you mumbled, your voice muffled against his stomach. He nodded, his breath coming in short pants. "Can I... can I keep going?" You weren't sure what you were asking for, but you needed to know if he was okay with you giving him head. His response was swift and unmistakable. With a strangled cry, he shot his load, the warmth of his cum spurting onto your cheek, nose and mouth. The unexpectedness of it making you flinch. He whimpered an apology, his hand flying to cover his mouth, his eyes wide with horror at what he'd just done.

But instead of disgust, you felt a strange thrill. You looked up at him, your eyes shining in the moonlight, and kissed the tip of his still-hard cock. "That was unexpected," you said in a sweet understanding tone, licking some of his cum from your lips. "But you know what? I think I'm ready for round two."

His worried face turned into a dopey smile, the kind you hadn't seen on him since the first time he'd gotten high and told you about his deep love for SpongeBob Square Pants. Before you could blink, he had flipped you over onto your back, your legs in the air and his arms hooked under your knees. "Are you sure you're ready?" he asked, his voice thick with lust.

[just-some-user-hunny]

Alucard and Anderson fighting over you...

ok but Alucard and father Anderson both pining over the same person...

✧ If having an obsessive bloodthirsty vampire on your trail isn't bad enough, it appears you managed to capture another set of eyes... A set of eyes akin to madness.

✧ Alexander Anderson is puzzled; yet enthralled by your mere existence once he sees for himself the kindness you possess. The way you are so tender and kind to even the lowliest of hellspawn captures his attention. How you smile and treat the Draculina Seras with kindness, like she were a good friend, despite her dead heart and cold body. will earn you a prolonged stare from the towering man himself whenever you are within his presence.

He listens. He watches. Observing the way you confide within the young vampire, or flitter beneath Integra's steel Gaze- and especially how you seem to appear nonchalant despite being shrouded in the no-life kings shadow. It's curious to him, oh so very curious. It's Maddening to him.

✧ Who are you? What are you... You're nothing more than a fragile human, dear and earnest. You may have your obscurities and oddities, but at the end of the day, you're a little thing ensnared within the claws of hellsing.

✧ Through contemplative nights and long days of reading scripture and clutching his cross within his worn palms, he comes to a conclusion amidst a sleepless dream. An angel. You must be! How you exist in this cutthroat world is impossible, how else are you so full of light and joy? A sliver of heaven itself.

✧ Once he has found himself content with his conclusion, he grows frustrated with the fact that his rival- his dark contrasting other half, seems so infatuated. He has no business being so close to you- his mere presence is like an iron cage around a dove.

Father Anderson can see the no life kings obsession with you, the way this beast has formed this 'claim' to you, and it repulses him. To see such an innocent soul in the sights of a monster enrages him to no end. However he can only deny his own hypocrisy for so long. You too occupy a section of his thoughts and heart, often thinking of you in prayer and requesting the lord of your safety and wellbeing. The irony of being no different from the vampire vexes him so.

✧ They already butt heads, ready to tear one another limb from limb. Alucard is possessive and protective of you, and definitely doesn't like how his arch nemesis is hellbent on 'saving' you from the evil soulless beast that sunk its fangs into you.

Just the moment they are in the same room, all you can do is sigh and rub your temples- inbound by the fighting that's about to go down. Like wild alleycats. 'here we go...'.

✧ Father Anderson wishes strongly for you to remain with him, away from the vile twisted hands of Integra- and Ultimately out of the jaws of her bloody hound. You'd be safe in his residence; away from the cold stone hellsing manor walls and the shadows that occupy it. You'd have sunshine, warmth, safety. You'd have no reason to fear; no reason to hunger, nor thirst, nor shiver from the cold. The church will keep you safe within its Holy walls. You will remain a soft soul, kept away from the monsters.

✧ Prepare to be questioned by this vampire hunter whenever your paths cross. 'how are you? Are you being treated fairly? Are you sleeping and eating well? Are you happy?'. Please assure this man's every inquiry, for even a hesitant falter in your words or a deflated expression on your face will warrant an extreme reaction from him. (And by that, I mean he'll hail an onslaught of insults upon integra and her seething vampire). He's so keen to sweep you away, so he'll grasp at anything to justify it.

✧ As you can imagine, Alucard is not a fan of his rivals intrusive nature towards his human. His beloved. Blood red eyes will glare venomously at the priest as he speaks sweetly to you, wanting to laugh at his onslaught of questions. Are you sleeping well? Of course you are, he sees to it himself. Are you safe? The safest place is in the eye of the hurricane, after all. What foolish inquiries.

✧ I think ultimately when your personal safety is in danger, they'll reluctantly team up. They have the same goal in mind- to keep you alive. Perhaps a part in themselves will enjoy the partnership. The contrast of their existences somehow meshing perfectly together when they're doing something they both have their sights on. They're both unstoppable, impenetrable  forces.

✧ Still, they see no other reason that they have to like each other. They still butt heads like possessive alley cats, spitting their snide remarks and wit towards one another like their hail of bullets and blades.

"Really? Now you Don't see me cowering in the shadows of her room watching her sleep. It's rather pitiful, don't you think?".

Alucard finds his taunts amusing. His grin widening at his rivals words, chuckling lowly at his snide remarks. Does this man honestly believe he has any shame? Any embarrassment when it comes to you? This all but frustrated Alexander more, hence the neverending cycle of aggression towards one another.

✧ The boisterous taunts will only ever earn a few array of reactions. Either alucard will give a sharp toothed grin and shamelessly agree with his own infatuation, or snarl and glare. It very much depends on what's said.

"Do you really think that an angel like her will want an evil, soulless creature like you?".

Any prods at Alucard himself are met with deep rumbling laughter and snarling grins. He cannot disagree, father Anderson speaks the truth. He is a monster. In fact, it's frustratingly amusing to him.

"And yet, she is mine. Funny, isn't it, father?".

✧ Him seeing Alucard as a tick in your side.

A disease that refuses to leave.

Nothing good comes out of having a vampire attached to you. It irks him to see an innocent soul in the clutches of the no life king.

The hostility between them turns sour, more intense. It's not just a battle between unstoppable forces anymore- with you thrown in the mix, it's a hellfire of bullets and blades. Father Anderson wants to save you, and Alucard wants this bothersome human to stay away from his human. As said before, they will reluctantly collaborate if it assures your safety- despite their own selfish desires to be your own hellish tormentor and divine protector. An immovable object, and an unstoppable force.

✧ Just know, that no matter who you choose to remain besides, the other will be just as infatuated and stubborn. You'll be caught in a whirlwind, a force you cannot escape nor fight. What will you do? Will you grace the monster with your gentleness, or will you fall into the arms of a mad saint? That power lies within your hands.

I find their dynamic so interesting, they're the opposite sides of the same coin. I'd love to hear anyone's interpretation or thoughts on them!!!

[ghostarii]

CAN’T TAKE MY EYES OFF YOU ! ～ JING YUAN . ❛ i want your bliss on bliss; a little company!

˖ ⁺ ⫾  CONTENT WARNING fem!reader ❱ golf dad!jing yuan ❱ dilf!jing yuan ❱ groping ❱ praise ❱ breeding kink ❱ size kink ❱ perv!jing yuan ❱ PWP!!!!! ❱ age gap ❱ cunnilingus ❱ multiple orgasms ❱ pussy drunk!jing yuan ❱ locker room sex ❱ jy’s kinda gross ❱ coercion ❱ creampie & unprotected sex (pls stay safe) ❱ pet names (mostly pretty [girl] & little one ❱ dubious consent ❱ dirty talk ❱ not proofread in the slightest ❱ minors and dc antis do not interact.

˖ ⁺ ⫾  TIP i’ve had this idea floating around in my wee wittle brain for quite some time so here’s perv golf dilf jing yuan ! ! i didnt rlly have a plot for this nor an idea on how to execute the vibe in my mind so truly i apologize if this is not that good :’( this got way messier than intended n i took forever writing it cause i kept getting stuck. i rlly rushed this toward the end cause i rlly wanted to post it so i rlly hope u guys like it 😿 rbs n feedback is always greatly appreciated <33 (pls don’t report i worked rlly hard on this n comm guidelines r so mean)

˖ ⁺ ⫾  GB 7.2k+ words .

JING YUAN CAN’T help it. He doesn't know what drives him to do it; to stare at you until holes are burned in you or touch you carelessly or talk about you like you're a piece of meat, he can't help it. It's akin to a primal urge, or manly instinct that makes him defile you disgustingly and unapologetically—and it makes him feel like a gross teen boy whose dick grows hard at the simple mention of women, but it's something about this aura of naivety and peace that swarms you that brings this carnal desire out of him. You’re the perfect prey, helpless, unsuspecting, and trusting of the ill-intended, hungry predator. Everything makes his heart flutter and his stomach gnarl—he turns into a different man because of you.

Friendly, neighborhood, retired Army General and current Xianzhou Police Chief Jing Yuan was a mask to cover perverse, snobby, and icky pervert Jing Yuan; the one who got a kick at making you do silly tasks so he can stare up your skirt and who always told you to take a seat so he can press up on you and grope you indistinctly. He sees you and immediately a deviant fire is kindled in his chest, his cheeks heat up and his skin runs cold. It's nasty, but he can't help it.

He needs you selfishly. He can't stand to watch you talk to other men and tend to their needs—sure, it's your job to pour them lemonade and escort them to the spa and guide them around the country club for a look at all the activities, and he respects that you're a hard and diligent worker, but seeing you with other men boils his blood. It's as if the lines between reality and his fucked up fantasy world have blurred, and you belong to him, you're his woman and he stakes his claim on you like a wild animal. Jing Yuan likes how you don't question how he suddenly needs your assistance, and that it's impossible for anyone but you to do it, because it lets these other men know that you respond to him. He's never felt this way about a woman before, not even the mother of his own child, so it means you're special. You mean much deeper to him than you could ever understand and all he wants is your company and to love you down into the cage of his heart.

It's not a crime to have a crush. It's not a crime to be in love with a woman you barely know. And it's not a crime to imagine her stuffed with your kids after watching her interact with yours. A crime? No. Weird? Maybe; but Jing Yuan does it anyway.

On the occasion when he brings Yanqing to the club, he gets on his best behavior. They play friendly games of golf and lounge about in the garden area, and eat up a storm in the illustrious dining hall—normal father-and-son things. Nothing out of the ordinary, people wouldn't even know that all Jing Yuan could think about was you and how sweet your pussy must taste as he eats ice cream with his son. He stays on his best outward behavior, truly—you wouldn't have even known he was in the bathroom jerking off because something about you today set him off.

He walks into the dining hall, looking around to see you. Yanqing had run off to the pool ages ago, so Jing Yuan had some time to himself…or, rather, time for you and him. He thought about how he would take you and claim you for far too long now. He thinks about it too much, actually. And that’s insane; considering the fact that you only started working at Stargazer Navalia Country Club two months ago.

He goes to his usual spot: against the wall on the northeastern side of the hall. It's slightly tucked away, the ceiling lights on that side are dim and the roaming eyes of others are limited. It's perfect for him when he touches you and even more perfect to convince you to have a seat and chat with him. You always listen, always fall for his lonely old man act, even though you've seen him with his snob friends Luocha and Dan Feng, and he's more than well-known around the community—he’s far from lonely, but his lips utter such pitiful deception that you can't help but spare him some of your company.

Jing Yuan has been doing this for a few weeks. He’ll invite you over for a refill of the house's special lemonade, sipping the juice as soon as you finish pouring, letting his lips smack obnoxiously, his tongue running across his top lip, and muttering out an “Ahh, so sweet…”, keeping eye-contact with you. His plump, rosy lips will break into a smile at your widened eyes and flustered expression, and that's when he asks you to stay. “Wouldn’t you give me a moment of your time? C’mon…call it…customer service.”

Usually, he’ll sit across from you and ask about your day. He’ll listen to your short spiels about your coworkers or your university and even your extremely personal information about your family and friends. It's cute how you open up with abandon, and he likes how apologetic you get when you feel like you’ve spoken too much. He’ll reach across the table and tap your pouted lips, “It’s okay, sweetheart. Keep going,” and he stares at your lips as you talk his ear off. But today—today, Jing Yuan is pushing the limits.

He invited you over, and instead of you sitting across from him, he pulls the chair next to him. Your proximity is close, no closer than ever before, but close enough that you feel like he can hear your heartbeat. He drapes a buff arm around the back of your chair, the pads of his fingers just barely ghosting over your biceps. He takes a deep breath, presumably to settle into his seat but actually to breathe you in. You smell sweet. He wonders if you taste sweet.

“How was your day?” the man starts. It's okay, it's fine, it’s just Jing Yuan—he’s fine! You nod your head, “Okay…not too eventful but um…kind of busy.” He immediately replies “Yeah? Tell me about it.”

Your shift started at eleven o'clock this morning, and you clocked in slightly late earning your managers, Ms. Yukong, mouthful of scolding. “Again? This is the third time in a row…” She was a strict woman. Yukong was adamant about running an establishment—not a job. In her mind, there's a distinct difference, a fine line that separates Stargazer Navalia Country Club from other leisure resorts, and that line was drawn by poise, professionalism, and punctuation—the three Ps. You essentially lacked all of that. You’re always late, and if you’re not late, you’re just barely making it, you run around a lot and don't collect yourself. Oftentimes, you take on too much than you can handle and overwhelm yourself, making a fool of yourself before the very opinionated eyes of the patrons. And you were clumsy. The country club was your first service job and your first job ever. You wouldn't have gotten the job if your parents didn’t force independence upon you and you complained to your friend, Tingyun, about your unfair predicament, and she promised to put in a good word for you to her boss. That good word was a basket full of fabrications and exaggerations. Yukong told you that you were fortunate to be allowed to work at the club, but it was hanging in the balance if you didn’t step up your game.

Jing Yuan hadn’t expected a full rant, but he was glad that you felt like you could talk to him. He wants to hold you, tell you that Yukong is a miserable bitch and she doesn't know what the hell she's talking about. You can't do any wrong—that woman wouldn’t know poise, professionalism, and punctuation if it slapped her across the face, so who was she to criticize perfection?

He gets even more upset when your chest starts to heave and you’re blinking back tears, explaining how you cried after leaving Yukong’s office and felt so useless and stupid. And you made it your mission today to do your best. No overworking, no clumsiness, and no more strikes earned. Your head was on a dart board, and Yukong was aiming at the bullseye.

You told him you just wanted to be good. To be worth something because you aren't incompetent. If only you knew how he saw you.

Tears run down your warm cheeks and your frowned lips curve into a sad smile, a laugh escaping as you pat away tears from your eyes. “Sorry, I don’t mean to cry…”

“…I should be getting back to work…” You move to get up but Jing Yuan stops you, his big hand on your thigh. This isn't new, but your eyes meet and you almost burst into tears again. Your lips frown up again and quiver and your eyes gloss over—oh, you poor thing. He squeezes your thigh as if to tell you you’re okay, but when that doesn't seem to stop the tidal wave of tears from beating at the barrier of your blinking eyelids, he pulls you in.

It's a hug. You've hugged people before. You do it all the time. Even to him—you’ve hugged Jing Yuan before, but this? This is different. He cradles the back of your head as you rest your cheek on his shoulder and he kisses your hair softly. He’s warm, like the summer heat, and your body feels like it’s on fire. His fingers stroke at your hair as if he was trying to soothe your feelings, and it works, you sniffle and softly whimper, curling your fingers against his thighs. He's taking care of you and if only you could understand what you’re doing to him. His cock is slowly growing stiffer and heat lights beneath his skin as it does yours. You feel so weak and small in his hold and God, is it doing something to him. Your breathing brushes your tits against his side and he wants to feel them pressed against his chest as he pounds into you. Your sniffles and tears that form small puddles on his shirt make him think about how you would cry from overstimulation and his big cock stretching you out.

He needs to get a grip. To stop his gross thoughts but it's no use when your entire existence is an aphrodisiac to him. It was a short hug, no longer than a minute, but it felt like it lasted a lifetime. When you pull away, Jing Yuan can't look at you. He can't look at your flushed cheeks, glossy eyes, clumped lashes, and pouted lips—he can’t look because he won’t be able to contain himself. You clear your throat and sit up, wiping your eyes and smudging your cheap mascara. He’s slightly upset that you’re leaving already, so before you go, he pinches the hem of your shirt, pulling you back.

“It's gonna be okay, little one. Have a good day.” He pats your head and smiles at you. You get flustered and quickly nod, running off as if to disappear.

You find it hard to have a good day when you’re wrapped up in your head, thinking about Yukong, yourself, and Mr. Jing Yuan. He was a nice man, sometimes too nice and you were unsure if that was a negative or a positive.

His touches feel like they’re burned into your skin. When you think about his tight, warm, and world-erasing hug, your skin tingles and births goosebumps to the surface. When you think about his deep, reverberating voice praising you and denying the existence of imperfection in you, you run hot. It’s a dangerous juxtaposition that left you an unfocused mess, productivity being the last thing of your concern. How bothered your body felt was in big bold letters in your brain, and it was hard to not prove Yukong’s harsh words about you right. You needed to get it together, but it was hard when Jing Yuan lingered in your mind like a deadly plague.

You catch Tingyun up during your dishes duty, scrubbing the dirtied plates, bowls, spoons, and forks and passing them to the girl to be dried. She laughs at you, shaking her head as she spins her hand around the inside of the porcelain bowl. “Can I be honest with you?” You nod at Tingyun’s question, “his intentions are less than pure. He’s nice and all but I think you should create boundaries. I don't like how every time you tell me about him he's grabbing on you and stuff…”

You have an issue with seeing the best in people. You can’t see anybody as evil—their actions don’t define their character in your mind and that's a fatal flaw. You shake your head at Tingyun’s words, smiling, “I don’t agree. He’s just…I don’t know.” you shut the water off, and set down the plate in your hand. “I think he’s just lonely—”

“—He has friends. His golfing buds…?” She points out. You sigh and shake your head. “Yeah, but they don't come to the club often.”

Tingyun rolls her eyes. “Can you be for real? What company can you provide to a man who’s nearly double your age?”

On that front, Tingyun had a point. You’re still in college, barely coasting your way through your third year and Jing Yuan is in his mid-to-late thirties, pushing forty. He was a dad and you were a student. He lived his life—he’s on his second career, and you’ve only just barely begun working your first job. You never knew what to talk to him about and you never understood what he talked about. There was a disconnect, but you felt like that didn't impede the slight friendship you had. “He just needs someone to talk to!”

“Didn't know talking included his hands on your ass but okay.” Her snide remark makes you frown. He wasn’t all that bad. Tingyun didn't get it.

Her eyes immediately meet yours and she softens. “Sorry.” You nod to her apology, cutting the tap back on and resuming your work. You didn't like to be judgemental and you wanted to give Jing Yuan the benefit of the doubt. He wasn’t all that bad and you liked him—for the most part. She pats your shoulder softly. She does mean well. “Just be safe, okay?”

“You never know what’s going on in someone's head.”

It’s so hot. The weather forecast called for unbearable heat and ungodly levels of humidity. The sun was angry at the world, shining down harshly and roasting your skin. Surprisingly, the club had seen the most members today. It was filled to the brim, bustling and condensing heat at every corner that you couldn’t escape.

Your uniform was dripping in sweat and it was sticking to your skin. Your hair, pulled away from your face, felt like it was dripping onto your shoulders. You were hot. And luckily for you, Qingque had taken off from work today due to the heat, leaving her shift open. You swooped in and took the role, slipping off your uniform when the clock hit 2:30 and sliding into the lifeguard swimsuit. It was tight fitting but comfortable and paired with the visor blocking the mean sun from your face, you felt fine.

Lathering a security layer of sunscreen onto your skin, you make your way to the pool, reciting Yukong’s words in your head. You had met with her at the beginning of your shift where she told you this was your last chance. Lifeguarding wasn’t some fun easy-money task. Screwing around the way you usually do could be at the cost of someone’s life and she wouldn’t put anyone at risk. At all. So you go with your head up and a warm smile, climbing up and sitting down with a hawk eye on the pool.

The water was clear blue and rippling. Bare flesh and bright swimsuits are blurred and hazy under the surface of the water. It’s a nostalgic scene, sweet chatter and giggles from the playing children, splashing water, and pattering wet feet on the hot pavement work together to induce peace upon you. This is a scene you could get used to, especially when Jing Yuan emerges from the water.

He looks divine. His upper body is exposed, large muscles flexed as he lifts his body weight from beneath the water, resting on the edge of the pool. His water-darkened hair slumps heavily in his ponytail, flipping over as he shakes his head, ridding of the water. And the water spills down his skin deliciously, thick droplets pathing down his body. It’s a sight to behold and you can't help but stare.

Jing Yuan wonders if this is how you feel. Ogled and objectified down to the bone. Your shade-hidden eyes bore into him when they should be watching the children. But he likes it. He feels like today is going to be a good day.

He comes to the pool often, usually just watching Yanqing show him his “tricks”, but he notices the order. The lifeguards cycle every forty-five minutes. He noticed it the first time when one of them took off immediately after jumping in after a panicking Yanqing, but today it was going to come to his aid. Today was the day. He’d waited too long, thought about it too hard…Jing Yuan’s fantasy world was going to pour into reality. That in itself was a terrible horror.

He waits patiently for forty-five minutes. Splashing water with his son occasionally, stepping out of the pool for a rest, or waving at you as he floats atop the water. Forty-five minutes. Tick tock.

He stops you on your way inside. His towel was thrown over his shoulder and his wet hair slung up into his fixed ponytail. You’re so enthralled by his state that you aren't taking into consideration the lazily fabricated lie that he needed your urgent attention to. You were no dummy. Jing Yuan is an overly attractive man, but he was out of your league and the father to a boy only seven years younger than you. Your lives were incompatible and frankly, he wasn't what you were looking for. Attractive? Yes. Boyfriend material? Not so much.

Regardless, you follow him to the locker room to look for his supposed missing watch. You ask him where his locker is located and he points around the corner, “125D.” His locker is tucked off around the corner, deep in the row and far from anyone’s initial line of sight. You see his golf bag resting against the wall and Yanqing’s goggles on the bench and make your way to it, “Where did you last have the watch?”

This was way out of your jurisdiction, and, besides, he was the police chief—what the hell could you do to help him find a missing watch? Nonetheless, you listen intently as he provides the details: he took it off to go swimming, placed it on the shelf in the locker, and came back to find it missing. You nod slowly, diligently looking through the slim locker. There’s not much in it and not much space a watch could slip through, so you’re confused. It's clearly not here. “I don't think I can be much help for you, you’re better off checking with whoever was in here last.”

And then his body is close to you. Your proximity thickens with the chlorine and sandalwood scent he carries, and his broad form towers over you. Your breath hitches and your body tenses as a large hand lays against the back of your thigh, running up your bare skin until it meets the curve of your ass. He doesn't say anything. Neither do you. You feel like you’re frozen, stuck beneath him, and that only urges him further.

His other arm wraps around your waist and he pulls you in, resting his chin on your shoulder and breathing you in with a deep breath. You can feel his exhale on your neck and you shudder, pushing away to create distance. Jing Yuan only tightens his big grip on you, “I want you…” he murmurs, leaning into your neck. His lips ghost over your skin and you squirm, trying to wriggle out of his grasp. This can't be happening. Not here. Not now.

You try to tell him that but it's futile. He presses his slightly chapped lips against your neck in fluttery kisses, wrapping his lips around nips of skin every now and then and leading a path to your collarbone. He steals a look at you from the side, “Tell me you don't want this and I'll stop.”

He now frames your body beneath his, pressing you against the cold lockers. You wince at the harshness of how he handles you—how his hands incessantly run up and down your body and gropes your assets and how he grinds his dick against your ass. He breathes heavily against you, grunting and growling in your ear as he edges himself closer and closer to the brink of losing control.

You try to speak up. To tell him you can't do this and that here is not the place. But you part your lips to object, only for a whimper to escape in its place. You’re shaking your head no but it opposes the sounds that leave you and the subconscious grind back of your hips. Jing Yuan uses his right hand to cup your pussy with a hardened gaze watching your reaction: your eyes widen and then squeeze shut, and you roll your lips inward, pressing them shut. He feels a slight throb when he presses his fingers against your sex, and the heat that radiates from you is all telling. “Stop fighting it…don’t deny it…you need me to take care of you.”

Kisses on your neck resume as he rubs your clothed clit, using the way your knees buckle as leverage to slightly bend your over, grinding into you rougher. “Can't you feel how hard you make me, baby? Fuck,” he whispers, his grinding now turning into desperate rutting. “Indulge me, just a little…say yes…”

You’re shaking your head no, fighting his words. You think that if you close your eyes hard enough you’ll wake up in the real world and this will have all just been in your head. The sight of the lockers in front of you dispels that thought instantly. You fight against your own body, swallowing down the sounds of pleasure that rumble in you at his touch. You promised Yukong you would do a better job. You liked working here. If she found out you had sex with a customer during work hours in the public locker room, she’d have your head on stake. But God, he knew what he was doing. It’s like Jing Yuan knows how to get into your head. All of his innuendos day in and day out, his flirtatious banter, and his wandering eyes the past few months have been test runs on you that he’s conducted for his fucked up memory log. So he could prepare for this moment. So he knew how to make you weak and make you succumb to his advances. You were a nice girl with a hard time saying no. You always indulged his requests and always did what was told to you. His constant “Say yes, baby. Say it. You know you want this,” in your ear was persuasive enough for your weak resolve. Soon enough, you’re quietly parroting his words.

“Y-yes…I…I want it,” you huff out, and he stops.

Jing Yuan lets you go—pulling off of you and spinning you around. Then, he’s swiftly pushing you against the lockers, caging you in with his big arms on either side of you. His golden eyes are richer, darkened with fantasy and lust as they bore into yours. His rosy lips curve into a sinister smirk, “Look me in my eyes and say you want me to fuck you.”

Your eyes meet, locking with each other softly. You’re telling yourself in your head that you can say no, but your mouth moves first, “I want you…to…” you grow shy at the words, and Jing Yuan smiles at you. He steps closer, grabbing your chin softly and your waist with his free hand, pulling you in. “Sweet girl…” he mumbles, brushing his lips against yours and bumping your noses.

Your kiss is sweet. It's the type of fairytale kiss, the type of wonderful kiss that whips the air out of you and has fireworks blowing in your pretty little head. Your lips mold and work together, and he takes his time getting acquainted with your mouth. He waits until you part your lips on your own to invade your mouth, and even then, he tenderly explores the cavern. He kisses you with dominance and experience. He kisses you with passion and desire. He kisses you like he’s in love with you.

You wrap your hands around his neck, pulling him into you, chasing his kiss as if he was trying to leave you. It begins to heat up. Impatience grows like mold between the two of you, you begin to want and need each other more. His hand gripping your chin wraps briefly around your neck to pull you closer, and his hand around your waist moves to your ass, cupping a cheek in his palm and roughly squeezing. He sucks on your tongue, moaning deeply into your mouth. Teeth start to clash and tongues start to bump and spin, spit dribbling out of your mouths. He bites onto your bottom lip as he pulls away, and then catches the drool running down your face with his tongue, running back up on its path to your mouth. With your saliva on his tongue, he kisses you harshly one last time—a kiss that makes you lean your head against the lockers behind you, giving him access to the expanse of your neck.

He admires the hickeys he already left, kissing them tenderly before leaving a few more. His teeth drag on your neck, and he's pulling the straps of your swimsuit down your arms. It's agonizingly slow and you look away, not able to face him as he unveils your body to him.

It's like a dream. Even better than. All of his fantasies and perverted thoughts haven't done any justice to how you look—the most perfect, pretty boobs with hard nipples that are begging to be played with, the most gorgeous frame that pops even more without your clothes, your dips and curves begging to be filled by his grip, and your pretty pussy, which he takes his time getting to and unveiling. He gets on his knees, kisses your soft thighs, and slowly pulls your swimsuit down to your ankles. You try to hide, feeling vulnerable and anxious in your fully naked state but he pulls your legs apart, kissing the inside of your thigh. “You’re beautiful…”

“Prettiest thing I've ever seen…” he says, trailing up your legs. He doesn't give you time to fall into your mind. He exhales deeply, letting the air from his nose blow against your pussy. You squirm but he pulls your legs apart again, looking up at you as he places a chaste kiss on your slit.

You’re already wet, susceptible to his touch, and fragile. You slightly leak past your labia and his lips shine in your slick. Eye contact remains as he licks your arousal off his lips, swallowing your taste with a satisfied hum. “So sweet, too. Better than I ever imagined.”

Something about his admission flusters you. You knew he enjoyed your company, but you didn't know he put thought into you this way. It flatters you, to say the least, and your body responds in a very telling way: your clit throbbing and hole clenching in need.

Jing Yuan smiles at how you can't hold eye contact with him and how you look down at him with urging eyes. Your body gives him the okay your mouth fails to do, and he dives in, wedging his tongue between your folds to lick a thick stripe. You gasp loudly and slam your palm against the locker behind you, seemingly caught off guard by his action. And then he does it again. This time, making his way to your clit slowly, only to circle around the bud but not pay it any attention. And again, this time only lightly flicking your clit with his tongue and ghosting over it but ultimately focusing on collecting your sweet juices, slurping it down with an obnoxious volume.

Your position is fixed—you’re stuck. Your legs are draped over his shoulders as you basically sit on his face, and he holds you tightly by your soft thighs. Your gaze is filed unto each other, unmoving, and he watches with glee at how you react when he finally gives your clit attention. He wraps his lips around the bud, sucking it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. You practically burst into tears. You moan out, immediately threading your fingers in his white locks. “Oh, fuck,”

He abuses your clit until your voice goes hoarse. He doesn't care that people could probably hear you. He wants them to. He wants them to hear his name flow from your mouth like syrup out of a maple tree—thick in lust and fatally sweet. Your moans sound even prettier in reality. Jing Yuan has come to the conclusion that you are one of a kind. No wild or active imagination could do you justice. He could eat you out for days—you’re just so sweet and so easy to please. Your clit getting sucked on sets you off and when he runs his thick tongue through your sloppy folds to collect your stream of arousal, you whine even louder, competing with his slurping and licking noises.

“I want you to cum on my tongue, pretty girl,” he says, pulling away from your folds. “Wanna taste all of you,” and he presses a kiss to your clit. You suck your bottom lip between your teeth, nodding rapidly, “Please! Wanna cum so bad…”

He’s determined now. Like a man starved, he practically feasts on you. His tongue is everywhere—licking and swirling from every direction and it drives you insane. You can feel the burning tension in your gut churn and to egg its release out of you, you toy with your nipples, resting your head against the lockers as ecstasy overcomes you. You whine and whimper out meek little “Yes!”’s and “Oh, God!”’s like those are the only words you know, feeling your orgasm so close that it heats your skin to the touch.

Your back arches and eyes blow wide, your body fighting against itself. You trap his head between your thighs but push his head away, damn near screaming at the top of your lungs that it's too much and you can't take it. This pushes Jing Yuan to do more, to tighten his hold on your thighs and suffocate himself in your pussy. Knock the tip of his nose against your puffy clit and probe your clenching hole with his tongue. His jaw hurts but he keeps it up well, humming and moaning endlessly to send warm vibrations through your skin. His name breaks off of your tongue so weakly and your head feels light. It's like something in you snaps, like all composure and decency melts off of you in an instant. You could care less about Yukong or anybody else for that matter. This entire room could cease to exist and it wouldn't matter because Jing Yuan has blasted you off to cloud nine. The feeling of his tongue swimming through your folds is pleasure in its purest form and it pushes you to the deep end, drowning you in overwhelming ecstasy.

The grip you have on his hair tightens and you pull the long locks as if it’d stabilize you from the wreckage your pending orgasm was bringing upon you. A silent moan falls from your lips, followed by an airy plea, “J-Jing Yuan, please..!” Your voice falters and falls into another broken moan. Your back arches yet again and your hips buck into his face, and there it is. That tight band in your stomach snaps and your orgasm wracks through you roughly. Your thighs shake and your chest heaves heavily—you feel like you can't breathe. And he doesn't let up, wrapping his lips around your sensitive clit for the harshest suck of the night, humming happily as you squirm and spasm in his hold.

You come undone, dripping down his face like a rushing waterfall. He cleans you up with his tongue, continuing to help you come down from your high even as you whimper and sniffle from overstimulation. With peppery kisses, he pulls away from your pussy, licking his lips clean and rolling his eyes at your taste. “You did so good for me, baby.”

A carnal glint shines in his eye as he takes your waist in his hands, pulling you into him for a kiss. Your lips connect with fervor. He immediately establishes dominance, invading your mouth with hunger and greed. Your teeth clash and knock and your tongue is bullied by his. Your taste on his mouth is strong and it's hard to ignore it, and on him, it tastes wonderful. Your legs are jelly, useless. He holds you up with his hands but ultimately decides to press you against the lockers once again, grinding his painfully aching hard-on onto your thigh. No. This can't happen. The longer you're in the locker room with him, the more risk that's run. People are going to start leaving the club soon, and you don't know what you’d do if they caught you like this.

You try to push him away but he only presses into you more, rutting against you more desperately and aggressively. You gave him an inch, and now he's going to take a mile.

He growls against your lips before pulling away, resting his forehead on yours. “Gotta have you, baby,” he starts, pulling down his swim trunks. His hard cock jumps out, leaking and hard and so thick it makes your eyes bulge out of your head. You can't do this. You open your mouth to protest but he just kisses you again, shutting you down instantly. He takes your hand in his, bringing it down to his dick, and forces you to hold his girth in your hand. He's heavy and hard. Two prominent veins bulge and throb and his angry tip spills milky beads of precum into a pool in his slit. He makes you jerk him off, groaning into your mouth deeply, “Fuck. Need you so bad, little one. Need your sweet little pussy wrapped around me, need to feel you, to fill you—oh, fuck. Let me? Give me that, please.”

He practically begs you. He ruts into your hand and speaks into your mouth like a bitch in heat—you’re finding it hard to deny him. And he keeps begging. Keeps nipping at your lips and swiping your jaw now and then with his tongue. He's desperate. And you feel like you have no choice. “…Okay.”

Jing Yuan doesn't notice the uncertainty in your tone. He nearly jumps for joy, kissing you so passionately and hooking his hands on your ass, hoisting you up into the air. You squeal and he laughs, kissing you again as he properly positions his tip at your entrance. “Been thinking about this since I first laid eyes on you,”

As he starts talking, he slowly slides you down on his length. You gasp and wince—he’s so fucking big. Your nails immediately dig into his shoulders and you try to brace yourself, but good God, it’s like he’s splitting your body into two. He slowly sinks in, kissing your cheeks and mumbling praises that don't do much to ease the burn of the stretch. You almost want to stop, but he's like a brick wall. Impossible to get through.

“You’re so tight…” He feels like he’s breaking you in. Like you’re untouched and not prepared to take him and it sets him off. Your whimpers are sweet and the way you hug him like you're scared to let go ignites that all-too-familiar carnal flame. He wants to ravage you. It takes a few moments but he finally bottoms out with a deep groan. “So tight…so wet…fuck, it's like you’re made for me.” He does an experimental thrust and his heart swells at how you moan into his ear and clench around him tighter. “Taking me so well,”

This starts a rhythm of slow thrusts, the two of your bodies getting to know each other. Jing Yuan is so big and he feels even bigger inside of you. Your cunt feels like it's being reformed in its shape, stretching around him widely to accommodate every bit of him. And your pussy around him was so worth the wait. Your gummy walls welcome him with a tight, warm hug, and you leak down his length unabashedly. The combination of your arousal and his slow thrusts get you two acquainted quickly, and he steadily starts to pick up the pace.

Jing Yuan has shortly found his rhythm. He thrusts up into you while simultaneously maneuvering your hips down and you’ve never felt anything like this before. He pounds you. Hard. Rough. And slowly gains speed. His heavy balls slap at your ass and your puffy clit kisses his pelvis and it all makes you weak. You bury your head into his neck and pull him closer to you, feeling enveloped in his strong hold. How he's easily able to hold you up and fuck you the way is he makes your stomach churn and knot. There's a rhythmic slapping that coordinates with his grunts and your cries and it's so loud and lewd, you’re sure the whole country club knows what you're doing. But it doesn't bother you. Because yet again, Jing Yuan works your body like an expert, plunging into your depths so well that you can't do anything but clench and drip around him like a broken faucet.

His hands are on your ass, squeezing and slapping your cheeks to make you squeal out, practically yelling his name for the masses. It all feels too good. He knows what he's doing—how to angle his hips and find your G-spot almost instantly and abuse it until you feel like your brain has melted into mush, how to mix the pain of his calloused hands slapping your ass sweetly with the pleasure he bestows upon you, how to sweet-talk into your ear and flatter you so well that butterflies are born in your tummy and your hole clenches even tighter around him. He's experienced. He's taking your body on a trip it's sure to never forget and never replicate, and you wish you knew how he did it, because he’s only been thrusting into you for a few minutes and you feel like you're about to explode.

He's now pounding into you more furiously, and you chalk that up to his orgasm approaching him as well. “I'm gonna cum again—!” you announce, voice low in a broken whisper. His thrusts get sloppy and he grunts to concur, “Me too—look at me,”

Your eyes meet and this might be the rawest moment you've ever had with Jing Yuan. There's nothing but passion and adoration in his golden eyes as he looks at you. And as he kisses you for the nth time this evening, it's soft. Kind. A complete one-eighty from how desperately and angrily he bullies his thick cock into your drooling cunt. “Cum with me.” It's more of a demand than a request, but you nod in understanding anyway. You want to feel him throb and empty out his balls inside you. You want to hear his voice crack and break as he moans out your praises. You want to feel him give it to you until he can't anymore.

He snaps his hips into you, hard and one at a time. He goes as deep as possible, making your eyes blow wide and spill tears. He's so deep in your stomach it's almost like he pops the bubble of your orgasm himself, and you're spilling all over him in a matter of seconds. It was unexpected and you drawl out a whiny moan, grinding your hips back onto him subconsciously. Your orgasm makes him follow suit, and soon enough, you're filled to the brim with his semen. Warm ropes mix nastily with your own release and it drips out of your hole as he continues to thrust through your orgasms.

“Oh shit…’s good, little one.” He kisses your cheek and carries you to the bench, laying you down. “One more for me, ‘kay?”

Your mind is lagging behind. You didn't even catch his statement until he was sliding into you again, pressing your hands against your stomach to feel him inside of you. “So deep…”

“Yeah? Feels good, doesn't it?” He wastes no time, not sparing a second to waste. You're still so sensitive, and so is he, and everything is so sloppy. So messy. Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he finds your sweet spot again, and fuck, it feels so good. “‘M not gonna last…”

Jing Yuan basically crushes you against the hard bench, closing the proximity between you two and harboring the flame between your chests. His head in the crook of your neck shakes, “Me neither. Want you to keep it all in.” His pathetic rutting elicits the wettest sounds from your pussy, and the empty locker room echoes it around with bass. He runs on and on about stuffing you full, fucking his kids into you and you don't know what at what point that started to sound good to you. Your belly rumbled in that all-too-familiar wait, your orgasm wasted no time in building.

Your eyes start to tear even harder and white blotches soon cover your whole line of sight—but not before Jing Yuan stills inside of you, dumping his second load inside of you with a guttural groan and clench of his abdomen. He rubs rough circles on your clit, murmuring about how you can do it until you clench around him, squirming beneath him as your orgasm hits you again. He doesn't pull out. He keeps you plugged up with his cock, forbidding his cum from leaving you. You didn't expect this to happen. Ever. But Jing Yuan? He always knew. It was just a matter of when.

So when your sight returns and you open your eyes to see him leaning over you, you smile happily. It was almost like you're Cinderella and he's Prince Charming, coming to rescue you from your hellish job in the most unconventional way possible. But unconventional feels good.

He won. No matter what he had to do, he won. His fantasy came to fruition and he would rather nothing else. This moment will be forever cherished, even if the distant opening of the door sounds off, and footsteps rapidly approaching bring you back to reality. He won. And nothing, or nobody, can change that. You’re all his now.

[deadghosy]

SLYTHERIN BOYS X OWL! READER HEADCANNONS

Prompt: a wild owl appears, gaining some Slytherin boy’s attention as their own personally pet and companion

Ft. The riddles, Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, && Lorenzo Berkshire

A/N: based off of how I use to do hazbin hotel x animal! readers. I appreciate reblogs, comments, and such as likes.

When your white owl appearance took place in the common room of the Slytherins. Draco was a little cautious to get close of you whilst Lorenzo immediately found you enchanting. He wanted to make you his wonderful companion. Mattheo also wanted to making the two Slytherins fight for your attention. Trying to bring you mice thinking you were “that” kinda owl. When really you liked fruits a lot, to which Theodore fed you once and you were attached to him.

“Guess they like me more..” Theodore says with a grin, petting you under your chin to which you coo at. Immediately Theodore felt his heart melt as he kept petting you, walking away using a soft baby voice. “Aww you’re so cute my little bambino..aww..” meanwhile the others are like “did he seriously just adopt an owl?”

Lorenzo is still the number one caretaker of you. He literally schedules what time you eat, when you need a bath, when you need a nap. He’s like he’s taking care of a baby. Even though Theo tells him it’s not that serious. Lorenzo is not taking chances as he teaches your tricks.

He taught you how to unlock cages incase you get kidnapped from the Slytherin common room. Or maybe something I excepted happens to you and they’re not there to protect you. Makes them sad to think about it.

Blaise, plays his music softly around you. He loves how you just prance around howling and cooing around. He find you a comfortable companion to just vibe him with. And you think the same.

Theodore, the one to just feed you and you would be on his shoulder when he is in common room. He loves you dearly as if he birthed you😭

Mattheo sometimes joke around about how he would pluck your feather for it to be a quill, and you were so happy after hearing that as you avoided him for a whole week before Blaise made him apologize. But most of all, he loves you since you are adorable.

Draco, this ferret boy would be afraid that if he turned into a ferret that you would grab him and eat him. But when Theodore told him that you only ate fruits. He felt pleased. Then he would transform and you two were animals causing mayhem together. (I believe in my head he’s an animagus)

Tom….you don’t see him often. But when you do. He leaves you a small snack, he doesn’t really show emotion towards you. But it’s nice how one time he heard a couple of Gryffindors going to steal you. Let’s just say those Gryffindors were scared to even go near you. You admired Tom from afar and he did the same to you.

Group head pets from you. Be prepared to be smothered with love and affection from your Slytherin owners.

Lorenzo absolutely ADORES sleeping with you in his room. 🥹baby is in love with your nightly coos. He thinks they’re so adorable to the point he may cry or just fall asleep with a smile on his face.

You’re very chilling to be around, surprisingly Tom lets you in his room. He may find a small attachment to you to the point he maybe wants to be in your soul… just maybe.

There was a part of time where the Theodore and Lorenzo fought over who was the best owl dad for you. You didn’t know who to chose so you flew over to Tom who just sat on the common room couch reading. Not giving a care in the world. The two Slytherins were shocked and disappointed as they banned you from seeing Tom for a few days.

“They’re like an air cat!” Mattheo said as you coo at him from the pets you gained. “Please don’t ever call our owl that..” Tom said with an unimpressed stare. Mattheo still says it to this day in Tom’s face.

If anyone forgets to feed you, they feel guilty. Not Tom though. He feeds you before he goes to his lectures while those others are like. “Who fed them before we left??” While Tom is like “Pft….imbeciles.”

They love when you coo at them. Tom would never admit despite his own brother saying it out loud💗

You are the most beautiful owl Hogwarts know, and sometimes Tom tries to talk to you as if you are a real person. Talking about pregnancy and how you should watch out for “those” type of owls…he’s just trying to protect and not kill an owl.

[frantic-fiction]

Reoccurring Nightmares

(Gif: margonite-seer)

Astarion x GN!Reader / Astarion x Good!Durge

Summary: A night reveals that maybe the past is not left behind, and maybe old urges have begun again. As people always say healing is never linear.

Triggers/Tags: Implied mentions of self harm. Violent topics. Angst Hurt/comfort.

Minor spoilers for Durges plot line nothing very specific but you have been warned.

Word Count: 2.2k

(Quick note I gave reader Tav's name so hope y'all don't mind)

Cold damp earth thunders under your feet as you run, each step echoes in the silent woods. Your chest heaves, each breath a meager attempt to fill lungs that can't seem to feel satisfied. 

Why are you out here? 

The forest is a maze, and you navigate it with urgency, propelled forward by the rhythmic pounding of your heart. It threatens to break free, like a wild creature desperate to escape its cage. You don’t stop, fueled by the momentum and the all-consuming fear clawing at your throat.

Why were you running?

This isn’t the first time your memory has betrayed you, leaving you disoriented in the unknown.

Ducking beneath a fallen tree, the rough bark scratches against your skin. You turn sharply and press on, the underbrush snapping beneath your hurried steps. The surroundings are a blur, darkness shrouding any discernible features. The moon, a mere sliver in the night sky, casts an eerie glow through the dense canopy.

A plan forms in the chaos of your thoughts. The distant sound of water becomes a lifeline; a river might offer refuge from a pursuer. You move toward the sou-

 Your foot snags a root, and you collide with a rock. Blood fills your mouth, the metallic taste jarring, familiar. In the darkness, your hand tightens around a shard of glass. The moonlight reflects off its jagged edges, casting faint ethereal patterns on the forest floor.

Frogs and crickets harmonize in the night, their symphony a stark contrast to the turmoil within. The beauty of the scene clashes with the disarray of your mind. A brief moment of clarity emerges, allowing you to catch your breath. 

What happened? 

You examine the shard of glass, uncurling your fingers for a better look. A deeper wound reveals itself, and the blood flows unabated. The taste and sight is both revolting and comforting, a paradoxical sensation that grounds you in the reality of pain.

Where did the glass come from? Memories fracture, and images of a shared life flood your mind. The house on the outskirts, memories of love and healing. Someone's absence looms, silver curls and sharp teeth; Astarion, a question unanswered. 

Knees pulled to your chest, you notice the blood-soaked clothes. Panic sets in; that part of you, the monster believed buried, threatens to resurface. Did his blood taint you again? Did you harm Astarion?

Jerking to the side, you vomit, the weight of imagined horrors overwhelming you. The riverbed offers a cold sanctuary, and you scrub the blood away. The water numbs your body, but you persist until your fingers ache. The raw emptiness grows, time stops, and the world holds its breath in shared grief. You can’t face your friends; the word "friend" is tainted by your actions. Astarion’s absence is a void you can’t bear.

Wasn’t this the fear? The fear that kept you awake, haunted by the possibility of losing control. The dark whispers that the urges would resurface. 

Your reflection in the river, blood-soaked and tormented, triggers waves of self-loathing. The glass shard gleams, a macabre symbol of your descent into the abyss.

Fingers graze the cold surface, and a distant voice interrupts your thoughts. 

“Tav!” The sound pierces through the chaos, freezing your movements. 

“TAV!” Astarion’s voice, a lifeline in the disarray. 

Frantically searching, he emerges from the trees, disheveled and relieved. He is by your side in a moment joining you halfway into the river. He cups your cheek, his touch offers a brief respite, a moment of grounding in the maelstrom. 

Words are cement in your mouth. You're mystified by the reality that is facing you. Astarion is here, in front of you. And, in fact, very much alive. You reach up with a shaky hand to barely caress his cheek, as if a more stern touch would shatter the fragile moment. He grabs your wrist and kisses your cold palm softly.

“You’re alive,” you choke, collapsing into his chest sobs rolls through your body.

He momentarily freezes in confusion at your words before refocusing at the current urgency of your state. Pressing you tighter against him, Astarion strokes your hair and gives you a gentle kiss to your hairline. Maybe he had just fed before finding you, or maybe it's a testament to how long you have suffered the freezing night, but he’s warm. You bury yourself deeper in his embrace, hiding your tear-streaked face in his neck.

“Of course, my love,” He softly says and holds you a moment longer, allowing you to feel the truth of something he’s not quite understanding but knows is important just the same. But little by little, he begins to pry you from his body.

“No,” you make a pathetic whine in protest, desperately trying to stay attached. Too afraid that once you let go, he’ll disappear and the truth of what you did will be brought back into the moonlight.

“Hush now, my sweet,” Astarion stands up suddenly and removes the heavy jacket you had given him. Kneeling back down, he drapes it over your shoulders.

“You have been in the middle of the woods in freezing weather for gods know how long. And you've had a bit of a swim.” His thumb brushes the line of your cheekbone. “Let’s get you home so I can warm you up, and if you are feeling okay tonight, we could discuss what my darling was doing alone out here.”

He doesn’t leave room to argue, and you have none to give. So he takes you in his arms and begins to walk. You’re too tired to speak, so you simply curl closer into him and resume your position, face tucked into the crook of his neck. His scent invades your nostrils, and finally, since waking up in the woods earlier this evening, you breathe a sigh of relief.

***

You don’t remember falling asleep, but you awake on the plush sofa in your living room. Astarion must have moved it because it is now as close to the fireplace as safety would allow. The only thing standing in its way was the intricately sculpted metal table Dammon had gifted you for a housewarming gift. 

What seemed to be the entire house's stock of blankets was now piled on top of you, effectively cocooning you in cotton and silks. You try to sit up, but find that no strength is left in your bones.

“Stari?” You croak, your voice hoarse from your sobs.

There is not an immediate response, just the crackling fire and the rustling of dinnerware from the kitchen. You don’t bother to call out again; you know he’ll be in to check on you soon. When it comes to you, Astarion’s mother hen tendencies rear their head with great urgency.

 While you wait, you stare transfixed into the fire, mesmerized by the crackling wood and swirling ash. The chaos of fire has always been interesting to you. In small quantities, fire can bring warmth to a home and light to darkness. But uncontrolled fire burns, burns everything in its path. No mercy, no complexities, just fire and fuel; anything in between is insignificant in the grand scheme. It's familiar, too familiar.

Maybe this topic was best left untouched; maybe you hated fire. After all, fire is made to burn.

“Oh good, I was just about to wake you,” Astarion sets a tray on the coffee table. “I made tea,”

He starts to unearth your body from your blanket tomb and helps you into a more seated position before moving to the armchair. You catch his wrist; his crimson eyes meet yours. You're not entirely sure what you want; you just can’t bear him being so far. Not after thinking he was lost to you forever.

“Hold me?” The words are barely above a whisper, hesitant as if Astarion has ever denied you anything. “Please,” you tack on for good measure, though you're not sure why.

“Of course, my sweet,”

Handing you your tea, Astarion motions you to lean forward so that he can slip in behind you. Sandwiched between his legs, he wraps an arm around your middle and eases you against his solid torso. 

He’s warm; you must have been right. During your trek in the woods, he must have stepped out to feed. Now that the winter is approaching, he’s been hunting larger game; he likes to be warm, says it’s not always fair when you're the only one bringing heat into the relationship. 

He silently urges you to drink your tea, and you do. It’s quiet; neither of you speaks; you simply drink your tea and Astarion comforts. Hands gently trail up and down your arms, in between peppering tender kisses on your neck and shoulders.

You know what he’s doing. You’ve done the same tactics on him plenty of times in the past. He’s waiting. Waiting for you to speak first. To share with him why you were in those woods. What horrors brought you there. It’s an unspoken rule between two very broken people. You offer each other comfort, the safety each has lacked in the past and wait. If or when the person wishes to speak, the other listens.

But how do you even begin to describe the night that has occurred? The terror, the guilt, the hatred. It all just boils in your chest like wet tar. You can’t even really explain what happened to yourself. Once the tea is finished, you pass the cup to Astarion, who in turn returns it to the tray.

With a deep breath, you say simply, “I thought it happened again,” he knows immediately what you're saying and holds you just a bit tighter. 

“I-I-I don’t know what happened, b-but I was just running. I was… Gods, Astarion, I was so scared.”

Pushing the blankets further away from you, you turn in his arms and wrap around his neck. His eyes reflect the same sadness and fear you are feeling. “I was covered in blood, and then…then all I could think about was you,”

Tears begin to roll one by one down your cheeks; he collect them with his thumbs. Tears of his begin to follow a similar path. “I thought it finally happened,” you're crying harder now, hiccuping between words. 

“I thought he finally made me kill you,” words began to fail you from there. You pathetically tried to say more but the only sounds that escape are choked hiccups and wet sobs. When you know you have no hope of continuing you simply hide your face in your hands, no longer wanting to face the world.

“We’re okay, little love. Everythings okay.” Astarion is rubbing soft circles into your back, repeating calming phrases until they stick. “I’m here, nothing can change that. You’re okay darling.” 

It takes a lot of lovely words and small touches before your breathing calms down and you seem to have run out of your tear supply for that night. But even then Astarion doesn’t let go. You two stay interlocked, warmed by the slowly dwindling fire. He clears up your scattered thoughts. 

Astarion's voice, tinged with concern and a hint of reassurance, breaks through the remnants of your panic. "It was probably just one of your nightmares," he offers, a familiar acknowledgment that nightmares are woven into the fabric of your existence. In the quiet aftermath of your ordeal, the weight of his words settles in the still air. 

As he gently extracts one of your hands from your tear-streaked face, the dim light catches the glint of a heavy bandage wrapped around your trembling fingers. The glass shard, a cruel messenger, the night will leave its mark. With a tender touch, Astarion guides your gaze to the bandage, and then, with a careful motion, he lifts the fabric of your pants to expose a larger wound on your thigh, neatly covered in thick gauze.

The size of the injury is alarming, and the realization dawns that stitches would have been a necessity. Astarion's eyes reflect a regret that mirrors your own. "I should have been there, I'm so very sorry, my love," he whispers, his voice carrying the weight of an unspoken vow to protect you from the horrors that lurk within your own mind.

As you open your mouth to argue or perhaps offer words of comfort, Astarion anticipates your protest. "Regardless of what you are going to say," he interrupts, his words cutting through the heavy air, "from now on, I will be feeding exclusively when you are awake." The admission reveals a vulnerability in his eyes—a fear that lingers from the night when the scent of your blood permeated the air, and you were nowhere to be found.

"There was nothing more frightening than coming home to the smell of your blood and you gone." His hand begin to play with a strand of your hair. "Not to mention the absolute nightmare of a talk I’m to receive once I call for Shadowheart come morning, because I’m still not convinced you didn’t contract hypothermia during your midnight swim.” 

A small smile plays on your lips, a silent acknowledgment of the impending lecture from Shadowheart, whose disapproval you can almost taste. Astarion seems to relish in your smile, and he cups your jaw, pressing his forehead to yours in an intimate gesture that transcends words.

"That is all behind us," he declares, a note of determination in his voice. "Our wounds are still fresh, but we are here, and we are healing. We'll get through this, we always have." His smirk carries a promise of resilience, and you nod in agreement, surrendering to the irresistible urge to find solace in the warmth of his lips pressed against yours.

Author's notes: Oh boy I haven't posted any of my writings since 2018 but damn BG3 has sparked something in me. Astarion is something special and I love him. If anyone has some ideas they would like to throw my way I would loved to see them.

Feedback is welcome, hate is not! Have a nice day, cheers.

[eunsuri]

The Lighthouse

Pairing: Solas x Lavellan

Summary: Lavellan explores The Lighthouse and reunites with her heart.

Word Count: 6,608

Warnings: ANGST. Lots of emotions. Lots of love. VEILGUARD SPOILERS.

A/N: Hi everyone! Happy 2 weeks until Veilguard! This has taken me way longer to write than I'd hoped, but I MADE IT! This was inspired by a beautiful piece of art by @pani-artz, I couldn't resist! I've kept Lavellan's description vague for those who would like to keep their own Lavellan in mind while reading! Also posted on AO3!

“We’re here.”

A cold breeze swept through the crossroads, cooling Lavellan’s skin as she stepped up the stairs, Harding, and Leliana flanking her from behind. The three stood before the Eluvian, the shimmering surface glowing faintly. The ancient mirror reflected the crumbled pieces of the ruins floating within the crossroads, flickering with ancient magic and ready to draw them into another world.

Anticipation stirred in Lavellan’s stomach, her senses heightened and glaring at her warped reflection. The faint glow of the mirror’s surface cast a strange light across the stone floor through the overgrown foliage around its frame, and the chill in the air seemed to seep into her bones. 

Harding and Leliana exchanged glances behind her, but she hardly noticed, her heart thudding rapidly in her chest like a wild creature trying to escape its cage. Harding had seen this Lighthouse before, She knew what lay behind the Eluvian, all the memories hidden in Solas’ base of operations.

Lavellan knew Solas wouldn’t be waiting for her on the other side. Instead, what awaited was everything he had left behind—his memories, his isolation, the echoes of a life spent in the shadows. The thought of stepping into his world, of facing the remnants of his past and the pieces he had chosen to keep hidden, sent a wave of dread through her. She wasn’t sure she was ready for what she might see—for how deeply his loneliness would be etched into every corner of this place

He had stopped appearing in her dreams, no matter how hard she searched the endless distance where he once stood, always watching over her from afar. Even when she reached out, he’d slip away like a shadow, yet his presence had brought her comfort. Night after night, she would speak to him—tell him how much she missed him, how she longed to change his heart. The wolf never answered, but the sorrow in his eyes cut deeper each time, and her desperation to find him only grew over the years.

Now, her dreams were empty, filled with nothing but the ache of waiting for a love that never came. Sleepless nights blurred together as she wondered if he had forgotten her, or if something terrible had happened to him. When Harding had brought news that Solas was alive but trapped in the Fade, it brought a measure of relief, yet doubt still gnawed at her. Would she find any sign that he remembered her in this place, or had she been lost to him as well?

Harding broke the silence, her voice gentle but laced with tension. “It’s… a lot to take in, but I thought you might want to see it.” She paused, then added, “Whenever you’re ready.”

Lavellan’s breath caught in her throat, a fresh wave of anxiety washing over her. Ready? She didn’t think she ever could be. How could anyone prepare to see the deepest, most private parts of someone they loved, but had lost so long ago? 

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She needed to do this, no matter how much it hurt. She needed to understand him in a way she hadn’t before, to see his world, his pain, and his purpose. Where he had been all this time, if he remembered her. Even if he wasn’t there to explain it himself.

Lavellan took a shaky, deep breath and stepped toward the mirror, the surface rippling as she neared. With a final glance back at Harding and Leliana, she stepped through and the two followed.

Emerging on the other side, her breath caught in her chest. The three stepped into a realm bathed in a warm, golden glow, as if suspended in the sky. Floating islands hovered in the distance, each dotted with autumn-hued trees as if kissed by sunlight, gently swaying in an unseen breeze. Ancient elven ruins, crumbled yet graceful, drifted among them, suspended in the air like forgotten dreams.

Before them stood a weathered statue of Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf, positioned in the heart of the courtyard. It was a figure of a protector—his posture calm, watching over the space with an almost serene presence. Cracks ran through the stone, softened by patches of moss that had claimed him over time, as though nature itself had embraced him. The statue seemed ancient, yet resilient, a symbol of an age long past, guarding the Lighthouse like a silent sentinel.

Beyond the statue, the Lighthouse rose, stretching impossibly high into the sky, its top crowned by a bright magical light encased in a spinning golden roof. The beacon pulsed with an ethereal glow, guiding not only the lost but also wandering spirits seeking refuge. The golden accents that decorated the Lighthouse shimmered in the sunlight, long streams of green fabric dancing in the wind.

Lavellan marvelled at the beauty and serenity of the place as she continued towards the entrance of the Lighthouse, carefully stepping down the broken staircase. The large door opened as the three approached, allowing them to enter the towering building.

Her breath caught in her throat as she glanced at the faded murals stretching along the pathway, their muted colours leading into the centre of the Lighthouse. Each one told a story—Solas’ time in Arlathan, his stories of rebellion, and the ancient history of the elves, including the tale of the Evanuris' downfall.The images on the walls, the stories painted into the stone, all reflected the weight of millennia. 

Murals she had seen variations of before caught her eye, depicting Fen’Harel freeing slaves and removing their Vallaslin, as he had once done for her. Another told the story of the Evanuris’ rise to power and their tyrannical ways, with Fen’Harel’s outstretched arms attempting to show them they were not truly gods.

The Dalish legends she had grown up with had taught her to fear the Dread Wolf, to tread lightly lest the trickster god hear her footsteps. But now, knowing him as she did—not as the villain in their stories, but as the man who had fought to free his people, the man she loved—her heart was torn. The fear remained, lingering like an old scar, but it was now tangled with love, understanding, and sorrow for what he had become.

Lavellan wandered through the Lighthouse, her steps slow as she absorbed the surroundings. Relics of a world long lost lay scattered around, each one steeped in both history and longing. The air felt thick with memories—some sorrowful, others sacred—echoes of a time far beyond reach.

She found herself in a large room that appeared to be underwater, giant framed glass windows as a barrier between the water, with many schools of fish swimming through the depths. A lone green leather sofa was situated in the middle of the room, stuffed bookshelves lined the walls, and an array of candles scattered across the floor creating a cosy warmth that drew her in. 

It was then that a soft flicker of candlelight against brilliant colours drew her gaze to a mural, its glow pulling at her like a distant memory. A set of candles was arranged on either side of the mural, almost as though it were a shrine. As she made her way towards the artwork, her heart sank deep into her stomach, a heavy weight settling in her chest.

The painting depicted a woman—one hand raised high, a radiant burst of green light pouring from her palm, the other clutching a sword close to her chest. Below the hilt, the familiar mark of the Inquisition gleamed. It was her.

The weight of this realisation struck her in an instant, chest tightening with disbelief, an ache settling deep as sorrow wrapped itself around her heart. Her likeness, immortalised in these ancient halls, was a reminder of what she once stood for, of the time they shared and the distance between them now. 

Her fingers traced along the lines of the mural, imagining the strokes Solas had made, his hand dragging the brush across the stone with care. Every detail, every line, told her this was more than a mere addition to his collection of stories. This was crafted with love. He had painted her not just to remember her, but to hold onto her presence, as though each stroke was a vow to never let her fade from his memory.

Tears pooled along her eyelashes. She didn’t know whether to feel honoured, heartbroken, or both. Every detail of the mural seemed to call out to her, each brushstroke a whisper of what had been, what was lost. Slowly, Lavellan’s gaze fell to a small wooden box resting beneath the mural, its presence unassuming, as though it had always been waiting for her.

Hands trembling, she reached for the box, dragging her fingertips along the warmed wood, and gently lifted the lid. Inside, nestled among the old wood, lay Solas' jawbone necklace. The one he had always worn. Lavellan paused, inspecting the familiar necklace before  reaching to lift it from the box. The sensation of the cold bone and thick rope looped around it was almost foreign, yet the weight of its meaning was still heavy.

As the jawbone rested in her palm, memories surged through her mind—fragments of what they once had. She recalled how she’d often tug him closer by the necklace, his lips moving against hers, fervent and desperate, as though her touch were the very air he breathed. She remembered idly tracing the rigid texture of the necklace as she lay against his chest, listening to the gentle rise and fall of his breath as he shared quiet stories of the Fade. Each moment felt as tangible as the cool bone now in her grasp.

She could no longer hold it with the same warmth she once had, but the connection to him, to their shared past, lingered still. The weight of the jawbone in her hand felt like a lifeline to the man she had been hunting for all these years. Desperate to keep that feeling close, she gently lifted the necklace over her head, letting the familiar curve of bone rest against her chest. It settled there, and for a brief moment, she felt as though she had him with her again.

Lavellan clutched the bone in her hand while blinking away the lingering tears which threatened to fall at any moment. As she moved forward, every step felt heavier, unable to shake the palpable sense of solitude that hung in the air. This place, with all its beauty, was not just a refuge for spirits. It was a place of mourning—a sanctuary for Solas’ lost hopes, where his memories whispered through every crack in the stone, and his loneliness lingered like a shadow.

Further in, a large dining table sat in the centre of the room. The long wooden surface stretched out before her, grand and ancient, yet only a single place setting lay at its head—a lone plate, a single cup, and neatly arranged cutlery beside them. An ache squeezed in her chest at the sight. This table, large enough for a gathering, bore only the quiet signs of one man’s solitary meals. Solas had sat here alone, day after day, surrounded by memories and ghosts of his old ambitions. 

She couldn’t bear the thought of him there, sitting quietly, the vast emptiness echoing through the room as he contemplated the burden of his mission. He had been so steadfast, so determined, yet the loneliness had seeped into every corner of his existence. How many nights had he sat here in silence, the weight of his choices pressing down on him, thinking that this was the only choice he had.

The simple setting was a stark reminder of everything he had left behind for his mission—companionship, love, the simple joys of shared moments. The pain choked at Lavellan's throat and the tears she had fought streamed down her skin as she took in the sight. She rested a hand on the back of the chair, picturing him there, staring into the distance across the table, as he grappled with the weight of millennia. He had shut everyone out, even those who would have fought beside him, and in doing so, had consigned himself to this eternal isolation.

Lavellan stood still by the table, the weight of her thoughts pushing down on her shoulders like a storm cloud on the verge of breaking. Her sadness gave way to a simmering anger that twisted deep in her chest. How could he have left her—left them—like this?  If only Solas had confided in her—trusted her with his truths. If only he had let her share the burden that had twisted his path into something unrecognisable. Things could have been different; they could have faced this together. She could have stood by his side, helped him bear the weight of his cause, find a better way, and maybe, just maybe, spared them both the pain of this isolation.

The thoughts of what could have been pierced through her, sharp and unyielding. How different would their lives have been if he hadn’t pushed her away, if he hadn’t shrouded himself in secrecy and left her to chase shadows for years? Heavy and unrelenting regret settled into her bones. They could have shared this—this fight, this journey. She had loved him enough to stay, to fight for him, but he had locked her out, too consumed by his purpose, too afraid to burden her with the truth. 

Her fingers curled into her palms, hands clenched at her sides, frustration clawing its way up her body as she thought of the pain he had caused—his actions had left Varric wounded, with the false gods free to wreak their havoc upon the world. He had condemned himself to isolation, convinced he was sparing her the pain when, in truth, he had only deepened the wound.

Maybe he had been too proud, too wrapped in his conviction that he had to bear this weight alone. He hadn’t let her love him the way she could have. If only. If only things had been different. If only he had trusted her.

Lavellan’s thoughts were then interrupted by the sound of footsteps echoing through the corridor. She wiped at her eyes hastily, straightening her posture as Leliana appeared at the doorway.

“They’ve returned,” Leliana spoke softly. “Rook and the others are back.”

Lavellan turned, her heart still heavy from the weight of her reflections. Without a word, she nodded, following Leliana out of the room and towards the group that had gathered in the main hall.

There was more to it now—she’d learned that Rook had formed a connection with Solas. A tether, almost, caused by the disrupted ritual. She had to know if there was a way, some hidden thread she could pull to reach him herself, to bridge the distance between them once more. 

A spark of determination tingled through her skin. If Rook had found a way to connect, perhaps she could too.

Later that same evening, with the sharp sting of her discoveries still fresh in her chest, Lavellan found herself standing in the Fade. 

Rook had spoken of how they had become connected to Solas through the ritual gone wrong, their fates intertwined, and Lavellan had seized upon that fragile link. It was all she needed—a thread, however thin, to follow him.

With Varric’s warning in her ears and Solas’ necklace warm against her skin, she stepped forward, stumbling through the dark and desolate landscape of the Fade. The twisted remnants of broken elven statues loomed around her, their cracked surfaces glinting dully in the ethereal light, like forgotten memories trapped in stone. The air was thick with the acrid scent of burnt magic, a bitter tang that clung to her tongue, tainted by a ritual gone horribly wrong. 

As she moved, the ground crumbled beneath her feet, each step sending a shiver through her body as she navigated the uneven terrain. She could feel Solas’ presence—distant, yet unmistakable—like a flickering flame in the depths of her mind, pulling her forward despite the air of despair that settled around her like a shroud. Echoes of lost voices whispered through the stillness, their lamentations brushing against her ears, urging her to keep searching in this forsaken place.

She had worked so hard to find him over the past ten years, constantly reaching for him in her dreams only for him to slip away like a fading memory. Her relief at hearing he was alive warred with the anger gnawing at her heart. He had stopped appearing in her dreams, and for so long she had feared the worst—afraid he had been consumed by his mission, or worse, by his pride. Yet here he was, trapped in the Fade, perhaps lost in his own way.

The thought of him being trapped, cut off from everything, pulled at her heart. Just as she had found him again, he was suffering. But that grief mixed with a simmering anger. He had hurt Varric, who had only been trying to stop him from making a terrible mistake.

Her steps quickened, the greyed path through the Fade twisting and bending as though it were alive. She remembered Varric’s words—how he had tried to stop Solas, how Solas, in his struggle tugging at the lyrium dagger, had let it go too far. The thought stung, reopening the old wounds that had never fully healed. He had hurt someone they both cared about. Had it been an accident, or had his obsession with his plan blinded him to everything else?

It was then she saw him. Solas stood at the edge of the platform, his presence powerful and untouchable like a distant star. His eyes caught hers with a knowing look, as though he had been expecting her all along. 

His strong stance wavered ever so slightly, a near imperceptible shift. Somehow, he was even more beautiful than she remembered. He was draped in dark leather armour that hugged his frame, his broad shoulders embellished with gold which decorated his chest as well. His face remained sharp and regal, though it now carried a colder edge. The weight of his millennia-old burden clung to him, as heavy as the Fade around them.

The sight of him sent a rush of warmth through her, but it was quickly swallowed by the bitter pang of nostalgia and regret, memories crashing over her like an ice cold wave. Lavellan’s voice faltered, the carefully rehearsed words slipping from her grasp, lost under the crushing gravity of his presence. For countless nights, she had imagined this moment—each conversation, every plea, practised over and over. But now, as he stood before her, all those thoughts scattered like dust, leaving her speechless.

“Solas.”

Her voice trembled with the only thing she could utter, a raw mix of anger and longing breaking free. Lavellan felt the years between them collapse. The sorrow, the love, the pain, and the anger—it all surged forward, overwhelming her in an instant.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Solas’ expression remained guarded, though the tension in his jaw and the weariness in his eyes betrayed him. His lips parted, as though he might speak, but the words died unspoken on his tongue. The silence between them stretched, thick with unspoken history.

Lavellan’s heart raced as she struggled to steady her breath, emotions crashing over her: love, anger, and grief all vying for control. She wanted to scream at him for the pain he'd caused—to her friends, to her. She wanted to demand answers, to weep for his loneliness, for how lost he had become. But she also longed to run into his arms, to hold him so tightly he could never leave again, to feel the warmth of his lips, to taste the love they once shared.

Across the distance, Solas silently soaked in the sight before him. Amidst the boundless darkness of his prison, his heart stood before him once more. A dull ache crawled from his chest into his throat as he noticed how time had touched her. Soft lines had etched themselves across her skin—subtle, almost imperceptible to anyone but him. She looked exhausted, as though the years had been heavy, yet her beauty had not faded. Her eyes still held the same fire, the same brightness that had captivated him. 

His gaze fell to her arm, the gleam of metal catching his eye—her prosthetic. The sight of it twisted his heart into a deep, bitter knot of guilt. She had lost her arm because of choices he had made. Though removing it would save her from an untimely end, her connection to the Anchor would have consumed her had the arm remained. However, that knowledge offered little comfort. 

It was because of him. she had been marked in the first place, that she had been forced to bear that burden, to lose part of herself for a cause that had never truly been hers to fight. He carefully swallowed the pain in his throat in an attempt to mask the surge of sorrow that threatened to break through.

For a heartbeat, the distance between them seemed insurmountable and never ending. Yet the connection they had forged so long ago, deep and unshakable, remained—like a tether drawing them together even now. 

Solas shifted subtly, searching the depths of his mind for words that could bridge the chasm of time and pain between them. No words could repair the damage that had been done, not a single syllable could undo the devastation he had caused.

“Vhenan…” he whispered at last, his voice rough, heavy with all the things left unsaid. It was the only word he could manage, the only truth left to him, spoken as though it held within it all his love and regret. The word hung in the air like a fragile promise.

The harsh and unforgiving hand of grief gripped Lavellan’s heart at the sound of his endearment. It had been so long since she had heard the word leave his lips, and yet it was the same—soft, full of meaning. She placed one foot in front of the other, taking a tentative step forward, her fingers brushing against the jawbone necklace, grounding her in the reality of the moment. The memory of their love flooded her, the fluttering which overwhelmed her belly when he would call her his heart, mingling with the anger that still smouldered in her chest.

“What have you done, Solas?” Her voice cracked through her cutting words, the accusation spilling through her lips before she could bite her tongue. “You stopped coming to me. You were…tearing the Veil apart, and then Varric—” She swallowed hard, her eyes burning with unshed tears. “You didn’t stop. You hurt him, and now… the false gods are free and ready to destroy this world.”

Her words were sharp, biting, but beneath the anger was the raw, unspoken truth: she loved him. She always had. And seeing her proud, cunning love like this—trapped in the cage of his own creation—cut deeper than any wound she had ever known.

Solas’ eyes fluttered closed for a moment, his head bowing beneath the shameful weight of her words. When his eyes found her again, there was a subtle flicker in his gaze—something raw and aching, a depth of emotion she couldn’t quite define. Regret, perhaps, or something far more tangled and broken. 

“It was not supposed to happen this way,” he murmured, voice thin and weary, as if even the admission pained him, the words almost too heavy to continue. “I had a plan. The ritual, I was moving them to another prison. But Varric interfered, he disrupted a dangerous ritual. I did not intend for him to get hurt.”

The flame in Lavellan’s eyes blazed with fury, her voice trembling as the words tumbled out without a second thought. "Varric was our friend, Solas. You’ve gone too far. He wasn’t aware of your intentions. He tried to stop you, tried to make you see reason, and you—" She faltered, the pain caught in her throat reducing her voice to a weak whisper. 

Though Varric still lived, his fate was uncertain, the magic from the lyrium-infused dagger weaving through his veins unpredictably. Her dear friend had only wanted to help—and yet, he had paid the painful price for it. 

The hardened resolve in Solas’ eyes wavered, his brow furrowing with the slightest shake of his head. “I’m sorry,” he uttered, the words quiet, but laden with everything left unspoken. 

“That’s all you have to offer? After everything that’s happened? After all this time?” Lavellan’s words sliced through the air, her voice was low yet biting. Her fingers curled in, hands tense at her sides as her frustration simmered just beneath the surface. 

She was torn between the depth of her love and the hot flame of her anger. She had missed him so achingly—every day without him was a quiet torment—but now, seeing him like this, the one she’d loved so fiercely, all she could feel was the cold sting of his absence, the ache of betrayal. He had left her, and worse, he had hurt Varric in his reckless pursuit. 

And now, after everything he had done, he stood there with regret etched into his sharp features, yet offering nothing more than a simple apology. She could see the remorse in his eyes, he meant it, but it wasn’t enough—not after everything. She longed to reach out to him, to close the distance between them, but the wound was too fresh, too raw. How could she bridge the gap when all he had to offer were those meagre words?

“Nothing can change what I have already done,” Solas sighed, the sound long and weary, as though carrying the burden of centuries. 

“I know,” she replied, her voice trembling with the heaviness of her admission. “You can’t undo what’s been done… but you can still do better. You can still choose differently.”

Solas studied her, his expression unreadable for a moment, though the gravity of her words seemed to hang between them. "Better choices do not erase what has already been set in motion," he spoke quietly, his tone almost resigned, as though he carried the inevitability of his fate like a burden.

“So what, you'll just let the world fall apart because it's already in motion? You think destroying this world will somehow lead to salvation?” Lavellan began, her voice cold and cutting. Her eyes locked onto his, unflinching as she took a hard step forward. “The elven people you’re trying to save? There’ll be nothing left for them if you don’t help us stop this madness now.” 

Her words hit him like a sudden gust, rattling the walls he had built around himself. For a moment, his defences collapsed under the truth of her words. But then, almost instinctively, he pulled them back up, his expression hardening as his gaze held hers.

”'Did you come only to scold me, Vhenan? Or is there more you wish to say?”

Lavellan’s breath quickened at his response, the fire in her eyes dimming for just a moment as his question hung in the air. The silence between the two stretched, filled with all the things that had never been said, all the pain, all the longing in their time apart. She opened her mouth to respond, then closed it, struggling to speak past the heaviness of her own heart. 

"There is plenty I wish to say. But in truth, I came because—" She managed to murmur, the words catching in her throat. Her feet moved before her mind could stop them, stepping slowly towards Solas. "Because I was worried about you. Because I wanted to see you." Her voice was raw, as if speaking the truth aloud burned at her tongue. "Because…even after everything I—"

Solas’ head tilted ever so slightly, his expression softening as his furrowed brows relaxed, and for a fleeting second, something in him seemed to break. The unspoken bond between them, ever-present and undeniable, pulled at him once more. He reached out, almost as if drawn by the force of her words, but stopped himself just short.

He wanted nothing more than to hold her close to him and never let her go again. To let every thought spill from his lips and confess his love for her as if it were the first time. The warmth of her presence was only growing closer as she stepped further in his direction, her beautifully intoxicating scent stirring memories of their past together. He craved her fiercely—the softness of her lips, the feel of her smooth skin beneath his fingertips, her lovely voice whispering words of love that echoed in his heart.

But the shrinking space between them felt like a chasm born not only of time, but of all the hurt and chaos he had left in his wake. He didn’t deserve her. Not after his failure. Not after what he had done.  He couldn't bear to drag her into the darkness of his journey, a path that he believed would only lead to death. She deserved so much more than the ruins of his mistakes. 

He imagined the weight of his choices suffocating her, dimming the light that had always drawn him in. Yet as she drew nearer, he could feel the pull of her more acutely, as though the Fade itself conspired to draw them together. The ache of her absence, the torment of his own regret—none of it could dampen the magnetic force that still lingered between them.

"You should hate me," he spoke quietly, his voice barely more than a breath. "After everything I’ve done. All of the pain I have caused."

Lavellan had closed the never-ending distance between them, the air around them thick with an intensity that took her breath away. Her already racing heart quickened, emboldened by a sudden rush, a defiance against the pain that had lingered for far too long. With a trembling hand, she reached for him, her fingertips brushing against his cheek. The connection was electric, sending shivers through her, reigniting a fire that warmed her very core.

In that moment, all his carefully constructed walls began to crumble, melting away beneath her touch. She could see the tension in his shoulders ease, the weight of his regrets momentarily lifting. Their breaths mingled in the space between them, a fragile intimacy that felt both exhilarating and terrifying.

It had been years since they last stood face-to-face, their encounters reduced to her lone whispers in her dreams. Each night, she yearned for the warmth of his presence, the comfort of his touch, imagining the feel of his skin against hers, the sound of his voice calling her name. The ache of separation had clawed at her heart, and she knew he had felt it too—a longing that transcended the boundaries of their worlds. 

"I tried," she confessed, her voice heavy with emotion, barely above a whisper. "I tried to hate you, but I can’t, Vhenan. I could never."

Solas’ resolve crumbled even further, the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes undeniable. “I never wanted you to see what I’ve become. I do not deserve your forgiveness,” he pushed further in a weak attempt to suppress the overpowering love that threatened to consume him. 

“I know you cannot change what you have done,” She began through her breath, gently placing her prosthetic hand against his armoured chest and meeting his eyes directly, as though reaching into the depths of his heart. “But I see you, Solas. I see the burden you carry, I’ve seen what you hide in your Lighthouse. It hasn’t changed the way I feel about you.”

Her touch unravelled him completely, cutting through the barriers he had so meticulously built to keep her at a distance and protect her. For all the power that pulsed within him, he was utterly powerless before her. His breath was hitched in his throat, his senses overwhelmed and intoxicated by her nearness. All words escaped him, and instead, he clutched her prosthetic hand to his chest, his knuckles brushing the delicate skin of her cheek, drinking in the moment as if it were the last.

The space between the two vanished, the long-forgotten warmth of each other’s touch easing the ache of a lifetime apart. Starved of the love they had once shared, the air around them grew heavy with anticipation. The energy between them hummed, drawing them closer with each breath, until their eyes flitted shut, surrendering to the inevitable pull of their connection.

“Vhenan…” Solas found his voice once more, before the thread which held him together finally snapped and his lips found hers.

The kiss, at first tentative, quickly deepened as the years of distance, longing, and unspoken words melted between them. It wasn’t gentle; it was desperate, filled with the ache of years apart, with the pain of betrayal and the hope of forgiveness. Lavellan’s hands instinctively reached for him, fingers curling against the cool, textured surface of his armour as if he might slip away again, as if this moment might vanish like a fleeting dream. His hand cradled the back of her head, pulling her closer still, like a drowning man grasping for air.

Solas trembled against her, the control he had so precisely maintained for years finally unravelling in her embrace. Every heartbeat, every breath shared in their kiss spoke of the time they had lost and the memories they had clung to in the dark. 

He clutched at her waist, tugging her impossibly close, as though she might disappear if he allowed any distance open between them. The taste of her lips—familiar and sweet—sent a rush of emotion surging through his mouth and into his heart, blooming with love. It was a taste he had dreamed of, mixed with grief, regret, and the bittersweet recognition of all the time they could never reclaim.

For Lavellan, kissing him felt like breaking the surface after endless years submerged in sorrow. She had imagined this reunion, longed for it in her loneliest moments, but nothing could have prepared her for the rawness of it now, the intensity of feeling his warmth, his breath, after so long. Her lips moved fervently against his, as if she could anchor them both in the present, as if this kiss could hold them together while the world threatened to crumble around them.

Time seemed to slow, each second stretching into eternity as their spirits reached for one another, desperate to bridge the chasm of all that had been lost. The air around them shimmered with the intensity of their emotions, the soft crackle of magic lingering like static electricity. Tears mingled between their lips, and Lavellan found herself unsure if they were born from her own heartache or Solas’ sorrow. 

When at last they reluctantly parted, it was only enough to breathe, their foreheads pressed together and breaths mingling in the narrow space between them. The warmth of Solas’ skin contrasted with the coolness of the Fade around them. His fingers brushed her cheek, wiping away a tear, his eyes searching hers with a mix of reverence and sorrow, as if committing her face to memory all over again.

“I have missed you,” Solas admitted through a trembling breath, his voice fraying at the edges, each syllable thick with longing and vulnerability. “Every moment, I have missed you.”

Lavellan’s heart stilled at his confession, the pain she’d carried for so long softening, giving way to a quiet joy she had scarcely dared to feel. It was real—his yearning, his regret. He had missed her, and in hearing those words, a wave of warmth rushed through her, filling the hollow space his absence had left behind, like sunlight breaking through a dark, heavy cloud.

“As have I,” she whispered, her voice a breath, an ache. “I love you, Solas.”

The distance between them vanished once more as she closed the space with her lips. An electric tangle of desperation and love crackled in the air, as if they could pour every stolen moment of the past ten years into this one kiss. She breathed the words against his lips— Ar lath ma. I love you, I love you, over and over, with each fleeting pause for air. One hand gripped his broad shoulder as though holding onto the thread of the life they might still have together, while the other skimmed gingerly across his sharp jaw, the cool metal of her fingertips shooting a shiver down his spine.

As their lips moved together, she tasted the faint remnants of the Fade on him—like the bittersweet tang of twilight and the warmth of embers long extinguished. The air was thick with unspoken promises, Solas’ scent enveloping her, an earthy blend of ancient forests, fragrant herbs, and a whisper of magic that felt both familiar and achingly distant. Her heart raced, a wild drum echoing in her ears, as she felt the world around them fade into insignificance. In that moment, nothing else mattered—just the two of them, entwined in a dance of love and longing, the taste of their shared past lingering sweetly on their tongues.

Solas drew a tight breath, his lips forming the words in return, “Ar lath ma, I love you,” each confession fragile and tender, as if speaking it aloud made the moment more real. His hands cupped her face with reverence, fingers tracing the contours of her skin as if rediscovering her all over again, as though he needed to believe this wasn’t some fading dream. She was truly here with him, loving him still, despite all that had come between them. And with each kiss, each murmured promise of love, he felt the final crumbling of the walls he had built to protect himself from this—this undeniable truth that she saw him, truly, as he was: Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf. And still, she chose him—Solas.

Warm, fresh tears streamed down his cheeks—tears of relief, not of sorrow, and for the first time in an age, he felt lighter, the burden of millennia softening in her embrace. 

Lavellan’s fingers traced the familiar lines of his face, feeling the tension in his jaw slowly release. She caught her breath, pressing her forehead gently to his once more, letting the moment wrap around them like a fragile cocoon, holding them together.

They no longer needed words. There was no need for promises, no talk of what came next.

For now, they were simply here—together.

Solas’ hands held her tightly against him, as if memorising every curve of her, grounding himself in her presence, in the warmth of her body pressed to his. He drank in every bit of her, enraptured by the way her eyes sparkled with the tears she had shed. There was no one more beautiful, in body and spirit.

The world beyond them faded into the abyss—no ancient gods, no torn Veil, no crumbling ruins. Just the rhythmic sound of their breaths mingling between them, the quiet beat of their hearts within their chests, steady and sure. For so long, he had dreamed of this, and yet the reality of it was more than he could have ever imagined.

Lavellan clutched him closer, as if to say all the things she couldn’t form with her lips, as if to tell him that here, in this moment, she chose him—not Fen’Harel, not the Dread Wolf. Just Solas.

And as they stayed there, lost in each other, neither knew how long the moment would last—only that, for now, it was enough.

[cheynovak]

Broken Hero

Characters: Soldier boy x Y/N Female character     

Summary: Soldier boy and Y/N are on a mission and stranded in a cabin. They at first don't seem to like each other, until Y/N admits she had a crush on him as a teenager.

Warnings: Virgin reader, mentioning first time.

English is not my first language 

*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

The cabin was small, rustic, and isolated — everything that could drive Soldier Boy mad within minutes. The walls were thin enough that the cold seemed to seep through despite the roaring fire in the stone fireplace. Y/N sat on the worn leather couch, staring at the fire, her thoughts distant and steady, but Ben paced around the room like a caged animal.

He hadn’t stopped complaining since they’d arrived.

“Damn Vought and their shitty ideas. Babysitting duty, really?” Soldier Boy grumbled, shooting her a look. His green eyes narrowed, sizing her up. “What’d they think, huh? You’re some precious little thing I need to protect?”

Y/N didn’t flinch under his gaze. After working with Vought since she was eighteen, she’d become well-practiced in handling all kinds of egos. Soldier Boy’s was just another variation of the same thing: pride wrapped in cynicism. Still, the teasing glint in his eyes was unmistakable. He was poking at her, testing her limits.

"It’s not that bad," she replied with a calm shrug. "Could be worse. At least it's quiet here. No cameras, no prying eyes, no Vought telling to straighten up you back and show them your fake smile that breaks peoples hearts."

He scoffed, crossing his arms. "Sure, quiet. Just what I want. Some boring-ass cabin with a baby." His lip curled into a smirk as he moved closer to her. “And you—what, you think you can handle this mission? Out there in the wild? Pretty little princess like you?"

The nickname made her tense slightly, but she kept her cool. “I don’t mind the quiet, Ben. I’m used to it, I like to keep to myself.”

Soldier Boy snorted. "Oh, I bet you are. The perfect American sweetheart routine doesn't work on me Princess. So don’t give me that. You work for Vought, sweetheart. You’re not fooling anyone with that good girl act of yours. Bet you’re as dirty as the rest of them, hiding behind that pretty smile. How many skeletons in your closet, huh or should I say men in your bed?”

His words stung more than they should have, but Y/N had gotten used to people assuming the worst about her simply because of her affiliation with Vought's heroes. She raised an eyebrow, keeping her tone even. “And what makes you think I have secrets, Soldier Boy?”

“Oh, come on,” he taunted, stepping even closer, invading her space. “You’ve been with Vought since you were what, eighteen? I know how it goes. They chew you up, spit you out, and in between, they turn you into something filthy. All of you cheap young women. Bet you’ve got some dirty little secrets you’d never admit to. You’re not as innocent as you pretend to be."

She exhaled slowly, trying to maintain her composure. There was a glint in his eyes, daring her to break, to snap back. He was testing her again.

But instead of responding with the anger he seemed to expect, Y/N leveled him with a calm, steady look. Her voice dropped slightly, serious now. “You really want to know my secret?”

That caught him off guard. His teasing smile faltered for a second, but he recovered quickly, smirking again. “Sure, princess. Let’s hear it. What’ve you been hiding?”

Y/N swallowed, her heart pounding in her chest. The truth had never come easily to her, especially this truth. For three years, she had managed to keep this part of her hidden from everyone at Vought. But now, something in her snapped. Maybe it was his constant teasing, or maybe it was the fact that Soldier Boy, in all his arrogance, was standing there acting like he knew everything about her.

She straightened her spine, looking him dead in the eye. “I’ve never slept with anyone.”

That shut him up.

Soldier Boy blinked, his smirk vanishing entirely as confusion flickered across his face. “What?”

“I’m a virgin, Ben.”

He stared at her for a long moment, the silence stretching between them, thick and tense. His green eyes searched hers, as if trying to figure out if she was messing with him. But her expression remained serious.

“No fucking way,” he muttered, stepping back a little, genuinely taken aback. “You’re… serious?”

Y/N nodded, biting her bottom lip nervously. “I’ve worked for Vought since I was eighteen. I’ve been around all kinds of people, been in all kinds of situations… but I’ve never slept with anyone. Ever.”

His disbelief was palpable, and he shook his head, pacing for a moment as if trying to process what she just told him. “But you… you’re fucking gorgeous. Smart. You’re the whole damn package. Guys should be falling at your feet, begging for a chance to fuck you.”

She couldn’t help but smile a little at that... compliment? Though her heart still pounded in her chest. “They have. I just… never wanted to. I was waiting for the right person.”

Soldier Boy stopped pacing and looked at her again, his expression softer, less cocky. “And… what, you still haven’t found him?”

Y/N hesitated, her eyes flickering to the floor for a moment before she met his gaze again, her voice soft but steady. “I have. well I mean... I always dreamed of losing it to... one specific person.”

The silence that followed was thick and heavy, the weight of her confession hanging in the air between them. Ben, for the first time in a long time, looked genuinely speechless. His cocky persona shattered completely as he stood there, staring at her like she had just flipped his entire world upside down.

“You’re kidding, right?” he asked, his voice lower now, more serious. “Me?”

Y/N nodded, her heart in her throat.

“I’ve wanted you since I first saw you when I was a young teenager. All the bravado, all the toughness… I saw through it. There’s more to you. or so I thought. And… I wanted you to be the first.” She looked back at the floor.

For a moment, he just stood there, processing her words. Then, slowly, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. It wasn’t the cocky, arrogant grin she’d grown used to — it was something softer, something real.

“Well, shit,” he muttered under his breath, his voice huskier now, filled with something she hadn’t heard from him before. Respect. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

She smiled softly, her nerves finally starting to ease. “Guess I am.”

Soldier Boy stared at her for another moment, and then, slowly, he moved closer again, this time without the teasing edge, without the bravado. There was something different in his gaze now, something warmer.

The cabin’s warmth didn’t seem to reach Ben as he stood there, staring at Y/N, her confession still hanging thick in the air. His smirk faded entirely, and for a moment, he just looked… confused. Out of his element.

“Look,” he began, his voice unusually quiet, “I don’t think I’m the right guy for something like that. For your first time I mean.”

Y/N’s heart clenched at his words. She had spent so long imagining this moment, wondering how it would go, but now that she was face-to-face with the reality of who Soldier Boy really was… he wasn’t the man she had dreamed of. Not anymore.

She bit her lip, a small sigh escaping her as she looked down at her hands. “Yeah,” she whispered softly, “you’re probably right, I mean now I've met you.”

Ben’s brow furrowed, and he stepped closer, an edge creeping back into his voice. “Wait—what the hell do you mean, ‘now you met me’?”

Y/N glanced up, meeting his gaze again. His green eyes were hard, defensive, and she knew she had touched a nerve. But she didn’t back down.

“When I was younger, I had this idea of you,” she admitted, choosing her words carefully. “I thought you were brave. Strong. A hero. A man worthy of… of a girl’s first time.”

Ben’s jaw tightened, and she could see the flash of anger in his eyes. “Oh, I get it now,” he muttered, crossing his arms.

He growled, taking another step forward, his voice growing more heated. “You think you’re the first girl to look at me like that?"

She looked up at him, her expression softening. “No, Ben—”

He cut her off, his words dripping with arrogance and frustration. “I’ve been a lot of girls’ first time. You think you’re special because you had some dream about me when you were younger? Trust me, sweetheart, that’s nothing new.”

Y/N took a deep breath, steadying herself. “Exactly my point,” she said quietly, her voice cutting through his defenses like a knife. “That’s exactly why I’m glad I never acted on it. I had this image of you… this larger-than-life hero. But now that I know the real you—”

“What?” he interrupted, his voice harsh. “Now that you know I’m arrogant? Filthy? Rude? Selfish? What did you expect, Y/N? That I’d be some goddamn knight in shining armor? That I’d live up to all your little fantasies? That I would buy you flowers and open the door for you, news flash love, holding the door is just an excuse for men to look at your ass!” His words were sharp, mocking, but beneath it all, there was something more — something raw and real.

Her eyes softened, but she didn’t back down. “No. I expected you to be a man who cared about something. About people. About more than just yourself.”

Ben stared at her, his anger simmering beneath the surface. He clenched his fists at his sides, the tension in his body palpable. “I saved this fucking country,” he spat, his voice low and dangerous. “I gave everything to this goddamn place, and what did I get? I can play fucking babysitter. So forgive me if I don’t give a shit about your sweet little daydreams of what a hero’s supposed to be.”

Y/N held his gaze, unflinching. “I get that, Ben. I do. But it doesn’t change the fact that you’re not the man I thought you were. And honestly, that’s okay.”

He barked out a laugh, cold and bitter. “Oh, yeah? How’s that okay?”

"Maybe the man I thought I wanted… isn’t what I need.”

Ben’s jaw tightened, his teeth gritting as he stared at her, his frustration boiling over. “You’re just like everyone else,” he growled. “You put me up on a pedestal, and when I don’t live up to your perfect little picture, you toss me aside. Fucking typical.”

Y/N shook her head, her expression calm despite his anger. “I didn’t toss you aside, Ben. I just… I just see you differently now. I see all of you.”

He paused, his eyes narrowing. “And what the hell do you see, huh?”

“I see someone who’s been hurt,” she said softly. “Someone who’s been broken down and built back up in a way that no one could ever understand. I see someone who’s angry, who’s bitter… but I also see someone who’s still trying. Even if you don’t realize I see it.”

Ben blinked, the heat of his anger suddenly cooling. He stood there, staring at her, the tension between them shifting again, this time into something quieter, something deeper. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just letting her words settle over him.

Then, finally, he spoke, his voice lower, more honest than it had been before. “You really think that’s what I am? … Broken?”

She shook her head, stepping closer to him. “No. I think you’re still figuring out who you are outside of the war. And I think it’s okay to not have all the answers.”

Ben stared at her for a long moment, his arrogance slipping away, leaving only the man beneath. The real Ben. Not Soldier Boy, not the legend, not the hero from the posters. Just him.

For the first time, he didn’t have a quick retort, no cocky comeback. He just stood there, looking at her with something almost like vulnerability.

“Guess I’ve never been close to that guy, you dreamed of huh?” he said quietly, his voice tinged with a rare hint of self-awareness.

Y/N smiled softly. “Maybe not. But that's ok.”

The words hung in the air between them, and for a moment, the only sound in the cabin was the crackling of the fire. Neither of them moved, the weight of the moment heavy but somehow not uncomfortable.

Then, with a slow exhale, Ben ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head slightly as if trying to clear the thoughts from his mind. He turned to the window, looking outside. “Hell of a way to spend a mission,” he muttered, a small, wry smile tugging at his lips.

Y/N chuckled softly, the tension between them easing as she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Yeah, I guess it is.” Ben stayed quiet for a second.

Until he looked at her over his shoulder, his eyes softer now, more thoughtful. “You really waited... for me. Wanted it to be me?”

She nodded, her voice gentle. “Yeah. I did.”

Ben let out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. “Damn. Guess I owe you an apology for all the shit I said earlier.”

Y/N smiled. “It’s okay. I think we both had some expectations to work through.” Ben chuckled, the sound rough but genuine. “Yeah, no kidding.”

For a brief moment, the arrogant facade he wore like armor slipped away, and Y/N saw the man beneath — complicated, wounded, but still human. And maybe, just maybe, still capable of becoming more than the legend that had trapped him for so long.

Y/N stood up from the couch, her body moving almost on instinct as she walked toward Ben. He was standing by the window, arms crossed, leaning against the wall, staring out into the swirling snowstorm, his broad shoulders tense as if the weight of the world still rested there.

She hesitated for a moment, her heart racing, before she gently placed a hand on his shoulder. The tension in him softened at her touch.

"It's kind of beautiful, in a way," she murmured, her eyes drawn to the chaotic dance of snowflakes outside. The storm was wild, unpredictable, but there was a strange sort of peace in the way it blanketed the world in white. The isolation of the cabin, the quiet fury of the storm—it all seemed to mirror the whirlwind of emotions they had just unraveled.

But Ben wasn’t looking at the storm.

He turned his head, his green eyes locking onto her. There was something different in his gaze now. Gone was the cocky arrogance, the biting sarcasm.

"Yeah," he murmured, his voice soft, almost reverent. "Yes, it is."

But he wasn’t talking about the snow.

His eyes were fixed on her, the weight of his stare almost overwhelming. Y/N felt a flutter in her chest, a warmth spreading through her despite the cold storm outside. She realized, with a quiet breath, that Ben wasn’t looking at the snowstorm at all. He was looking at her.

The silence between them stretched, thick with unspoken things, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to fade away. All that mattered was the space between them, the slow understanding that passed through his eyes as he gazed at her like she was the most unexpected thing he'd ever encountered.

She noticed the shift, the way his expression softened, the way his eyes lingered on her lips for just a moment too long. Her breath caught in her throat. Before she could say anything, Ben leaned down, his hand moving to gently cup the side of her face.

He kissed her.

It was unexpected, but not unwelcome. His lips met hers with a tenderness that surprised her, a slow, deliberate movement that contrasted everything she thought she knew about him. The kiss wasn’t forceful, wasn’t driven by his usual arrogance or lust—it was something softer, something that felt like a quiet acceptance of the truth they had just laid bare between them.

Y/N’s hand moved from his shoulder to rest against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm. She kissed him back, her body moving instinctively closer to his as the storm outside raged on, oblivious to the warmth blooming between them.

Ben’s hand tangled gently in her hair, pulling her just a little closer as the kiss deepened, his thumb brushing against her cheek. He tasted like warmth and whiskey, the rough edges of his usual demeanor melting away into something almost tender, almost… sweet.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other as the moment lingered. Ben’s eyes searched hers, as if trying to find the words that had escaped him.

Ben’s forehead remained pressed against Y/N’s, their breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath of the kiss. The air between them felt heavy, charged, but in a way that made her feel like time had slowed down. His hand still cradled her cheek.

"If you ever…" he began, the usual swagger in his voice softened as he paused, clearly trying to choose his words carefully. His breath was warm against her skin, and she could feel his hesitation, the way he was searching for something deeper to say, something that didn’t feel like his usual bravado.

"You know," he continued slowly, eyes locked on hers, "if you can't find a man worthy of your… precious gift," He paused again, the faintest hint of a grin playing on his lips, “... don’t be shy to call me.”

Y/N blinked, a wave of heat rising to her cheeks as the words settled over her. “Precious gift?” she repeated with a small laugh, unable to stop the blush from deepening. “You’re so old school, Ben.”

He smirked at that, the usual arrogance flickering back into his eyes for just a moment. "I'm an old soul, sweetheart. You should know that by now."

She couldn’t help but smile, still close enough to feel his warmth. “Yeah, I’m starting to see it.”

But the teasing gave way to something more as his expression softened again, the weight of what they were talking about pressing in on the moment.

He tilted her chin slightly, making sure she was still looking directly into his eyes. “I mean it, Y/N,” he said, his voice serious now, with none of the usual cocky edge. “Waiting for the right man… that’s not weakness. It doesn’t make you naive or Vought's puppet. It makes you smart. Makes you… wise.”

Y/N’s smile faltered slightly as his words sank in, the sincerity in his tone catching her off guard. “You really think so?” she asked, her voice quieter now, almost uncertain.

He nodded, his thumb tracing soft circles against her skin. “Yeah. I do. Anyone can go out and just… give it away. But waiting for the right one? That’s what makes you a wise woman, not some cheap girl.”

His words struck her deeply, not because she hadn’t heard them before, but because they were coming from him. From Soldier Boy. The man she had once idolized as a teen, the man she had assumed was nothing more than a self-absorbed relic of Vought’s past. The men who slept with so many women he probably lost count.

But here, now, in the quiet of this cabin, he was different. Raw. Real. A little broken, sure, but more human than she had ever imagined.

Ben kissed her again, soft, a gentle brush of lips that left Y/N breathless. It was tender, unexpected, and held none of the arrogance she'd known from him.

When he pulled back, his gaze lingered on her for a moment longer. "Get some rest," he murmured, before turning toward the small bed.

She stood by the window, still feeling the warmth of his kiss, her heart racing. He lay down, stretching out with a grunt, throwing an arm over his eyes.

"Night, sweetheart," he muttered, already settling in.

"Goodnight, Ben," she whispered, watching him as the storm raged outside.

--

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[mirisss]

Mine To Love

Cat hybrid! Park Sunghoon x human! afab! reader 

Summary: Park Sunghoon had a rough life for many years, it wasn’t easy being a hybrid for him, most people loved buying or adopting cat hybrids as pets but anyone who adopted him, quickly returned him to the shelter, he didn’t understand why, so when a girl named (Y/n) finally adopted him, he was going to do everything he could to make sure she would keep him. 

Warnings: Possessiveness, jealousy, some anxiety, some depression, Sunghoon is kind of obsessed with the reader, some steamier scenes, 

Wordcount ≈ 4.6 k

Sunghoon’s POV

The shelter was buzzing with life as it was packed with probably a hundred people who were here to find a hybrid to adopt. The noise annoyed me, it was too loud, and I knew, no one would look twice at me, whenever they looked at me, they noticed my age and kept on looking for someone younger. 

I don’t understand why, hybrids aren’t like normal pets, we don’t just live for 10 years, we live as long as humans if not even longer. So what if I was in my early twenties? I still had a good 70 or even 80 years to live, unless I got sick of course, I’m well-behaved, but still, I’m unlovable it seems. 

Since I was three years old, I have been adopted and returned to the shelter, 15 times. 15 times during 19 years and for the last 3 years, I have been at the shelter, without anyone showing the slightest interest in me. 

Everyone at the shelter always whispered, thinking I wouldn’t hear them, saying it was weird because I’m a purebred, black Maine coon, quite an attractive breed, big, cuddly, independent. And my more human form wasn’t bad looking either, many people often gushing over me but still, no one wanted me. 

I stayed in the far corner of my room, I’d like to call it a cage but it was quite a nice room, this was one of the better shelters, but it still felt like a cage. I had barely left the room since I had been returned last time, too sad and depressed, I didn’t want to go outside and play with the others, it was easier staying here, alone. 

Every now and then a child would bang their dirty hands on the window into my room, excited to see the hybrid inside it, but as I looked at them, they ran away. Some even going as far as crying, thinking I looked scary. My yet black hair and ears, my dark eyes, and the protruding fangs on my lips, probably made me look like a monster to them. Even their parents would hurry away from my room as they saw what had frightened their child. 

I had truly given up on finding a home. 3 years and no one even stayed by my room for longer than 15 seconds, and yes, I kept count, that’s what hope does to you, but now, I just sit here, waiting for an employee to bring me food and try to cheer me up with false promises. Maybe next time. Someone will come eventually. This just wasn’t your day. Try to smile more, maybe they’ll be intrigued with you then. Smile more, yeah right, showing off my fangs even more. 

I was a Maine coon, in my cat form I was huge, and in my human form, my fangs resembled that of a vampire’s, if I smile, you can see the full extent of them, most people assume I’m a panther, a wild big cat, and that’s not a family-friendly pet. 

The shelter was closing in 30 minutes, the sun had set, casting my room into darkness, I still hadn’t moved an inch from my corner, it was better this way, people wouldn’t even have to think someone was in this room. Each glance still gave me some hope so if they don’t look, it’s easier on my fragile heart. 

Suddenly my ears picked up the sound of someone unlocking the door to my room, probably an employee who would turn on the lights, but to my surprise, there was a woman, a customer, standing beside the employee. Had someone actually asked to see me? No, don’t get your hopes up. “This is Sunghoon, he’s 22 years old, a Maine coon, his coat is jet black… He’s probably the closest hybrid we have to your requests, ms. Kim,” The woman looked me up and down, her eyes held distaste in them, she wasn’t satisfied with me. “Why would I want something so glum and sad, no, I think I’ll take my business elsewhere, nothing here seems to satisfy my taste,” My heart sank, of course, I wasn’t enough. Too sad and glum. I contemplated trying to smile but the woman had already turned and walked away by the time I had blinked. 

With just five more minutes until no more customers were allowed, I noticed someone standing outside my window, looking at me, they had stood there for a good minute or two. I looked up to the window and found a girl standing there, she looked sad, just like I did. When she noticed me looking at her, she waved her hand in a tiny motion, most people would have missed it had they not been looking at her hand. I waved back in the same tiny motion. And then she left. My heart broke, once again, I had been a fool to think that someone would choose me. 

“I’m sorry, miss but we’re closing down in about a minute so we can’t let you meet any of the hybrids, you can come back tomorrow though,” “Oh, okay, sorry for being so late, I’ll make sure to come back tomorrow,” The voices came from right outside my door, maybe just maybe, the girl who would return tomorrow, was the one who had waved at me just a minute earlier. 

~ The next day ~ 

I lay emotionless in my bed, I hadn’t touched the breakfast the employees had given me an hour ago. I heard the buzzing of people walking around looking at hybrids again, no footsteps stopped at my door, and no one was interested in me. That was until the clock struck 12, lunchtime, the buzzing halted as everyone went to eat lunch. It was then that I heard light footsteps approaching my door, I thought they were just passing, but they stopped outside my room, the lock slowly turning, and then the door opened. 

In the opening, stood the girl from yesterday. She was shyly smiling at me. She was cute. I couldn’t help but smile back, only for a second though as she gasped at the sight of my fangs, so I quickly stopped smiling and looked away, ready for the door to close again. Another pair of footsteps was walking toward us, no doubt an employee. 

“I’m sorry about that, emergency with one of the small ones, anyway, this is Sunghoon, 22 years old, Maine coon, jet black coat, as far as we know he is well-behaved, quite calm and kind, we don’t know how cuddly he is, but I’m sure he’ll warm up once you get to know him,” It wasn’t the first time they had introduced me to someone, but each year with my age going up, most people would become uninterested when they heard how old I was, yet this girl still seemed intrigued with me. “How long has he been in the shelter?” “Almost his whole life, he has been adopted many times but all those homes didn’t work out, so he has been returned to us far too many times,” 

The girl’s eyes became glossy as she heard about my history. “Was he just returned for no reason?” The employee looked at me with pity. “Most reasons were that he was too big as a cat, too old, too quiet, or similar things, nothing about bad behavior,” “Would it be okay if we spent some time alone, to talk?” “Of course, just close the door and when you wish to leave, just knock on it and we’ll come and open it,” “Are you okay with that? Me staying here with you for a while?” Sunghoon was confused, was this girl asking him for his opinion? I just nodded, too afraid to speak at the moment, scared that this was all a dream. 

Third Person POV

The employee left and now it was just Sunghoon and the girl in the room, she sat down on the floor, facing the bed that Sunghoon was sitting on. He felt bad that she had to sit on the cold hard floor, but he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries and ask her to take the bed. 

“I’m (Y/n),” Sunghoon looked at her, she was smiling at him, but he noticed the way she was trembling, nervous, and anxious, it was similar to what he was feeling. “I’m Sunghoon,” He covered his mouth with his hand so that she couldn’t see his fangs as he introduced himself. “Why do you do that? Cover your mouth?” Sunghoon continued holding his hand in front of his mouth as he answered. “My fangs are quite large and people find them intimidating so I’ve found that people feel more comfortable around me if I do this,” “They’re beautiful, your fangs I mean,” Sunghoon felt his heart skip a beat, she thought his fangs were beautiful. “What do you mean?” “Your fangs, they’re a great contrast to your dark hair, ears, and tail, your fangs are so clear and white, while your hair is jet black, it suits you, when I gasped earlier it wasn’t because I found you scary, it was because you were so breathtakingly handsome,” (Y/n)’s face flushed red as she said that, Sunghoon found it intriguing. 

Never before had anyone taken his opinion into account before doing something, and never had he seen someone be so genuine and real about their thoughts of him. Sunghoon dared move his hand away from his mouth, allowing (Y/n) to see his whole face again. “How come you’re here? At the shelter, and with me?” (Y/n) smiled as he removed his hand, admiring his fangs and handsome face. “I’m lonely, so I want to find a companion, someone I can come home to so that my house feels less empty, I want someone who is genuine, I want a real friend, and I want to help someone, give them a home too. When I was here yesterday, I was drawn to you, everyone else looks so happy and cheerful, they’re children, but you, you looked like me, lonely, so I wanted to know more about you,” 

Sunghoon didn’t understand, how could such a kind girl be lonely. “Why are you lonely?” She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. I don’t talk with my family, we fell out about a year ago over a silly disagreement, I’ve tried reaching out to them but they don’t answer so I’ve given up on that. I had some friends but after I went through a breakup, they all left because they took his side, it was messy, so I just left, it was easier that way. And after that, I have barely been out except for work,” Sunghoon’s guarded gaze softened as (Y/n)’s eyes became glossy with tears. They were both abandoned by the people who were supposed to love them and protect them. This had to be it. This girl has to be my forever home. Sunghoon thought. 

(Y/n) buried her face in her hands, trying to stop herself from crying. Sunghoon silently got off the bed and crawled toward her on the floor, just like the cat inside him, he moved without a sound. Gently, the hybrid wrapped his long arms around the girl, trying his best to comfort her, (Y/n) was shocked at the action but she quickly relaxed into him and returned the hug. It had been so long since someone had embraced him or even shown the slightest of physical love for him, like petting him or hugging him, that this one hug, caused him to purr loudly. 

Sunghoon was embarrassed, he barely remembered that he could purr because he hadn’t done it for over 10 years. His face and neck flushed a deep red color. (Y/n) noticed as they slightly separated from one another, she smiled and giggled, he looked so cute. Her giggles only caused him to blush more. “You look so cute like this, like a kitten, almost,” “Ya, I’m an adult,” “Mhm, maybe, but you still look cute,” Sunghoon was happy that (Y/n) seemed to have shaken away the sadness from before, he like seeing her smile, he wished he could protect her happiness so that she would never have to cry again. 

“Would you like it if I adopted you? I think we’d really get along, and maybe, we’d feel less lonely,” Sunghoon was afraid, what if she returned him just like everyone else? This was the final chance, if this doesn’t work out, he’ll never return to the shelter, he’ll run away. One final chance at having a home. One last time, he would allow himself to believe he was actually wanted. “I’d really like that,” “I’ll get started on the paperwork then,” 

2 hours later, (Y/n) finally finished signing and reading all the papers regarding the adoption. The employees were happy for Sunghoon but also for themselves, they were losing money on keeping such an old hybrid in the shelter, most other shelters would have euthanized him by now, so they just hoped that this time, he wouldn’t be returned. They hoped that this was the last time they saw him. “There, all done, miss. Sunghoon doesn’t have many belongings, only a small bag of clothes, and he doesn’t have a collar, so before you can leave with him, you’ll have to buy one and have your name and address and everything written on the tag,” “Can I buy a collar here?” “No, you can do it a few stores down, at the pet and hybrid shop, they close soon though so you might have to come back tomorrow,” “If I run there and get the collar fixed, can I bring him home today?” “Yes, if you get the collar, you can have him, right now,” 

(Y/n) rushed out the door, running to the store, ready to fix the collar so that the poor boy could leave that place. “Hey, I want this collar, and these things printed on the tag, please,” it took 10 minutes to fix the collar, right before the store closed, once (Y/n) held the collar in her hands she ran back to the shelter, not wanting Sunghoon to believe she had abandoned him. By the time she returned to the shelter, she was out of breath and panting, she showed the shelter employees the collar, and once they said that it was approved, she walked over to his room, opening the door with a smile. 

“Ready to go home?” “You didn’t leave? You’re actually adopting me?” “I did leave for a few minutes to get this,” (Y/n) held her hand toward him, the collar in it catching his attention. Sunghoon looked at it with adoration in his eyes. He finally noticed that her heart was racing, her face flushed, some sweat had formed on her forehead, she had been running, all to be able to take him home today. Home. “And, yes, of course, I am. If you still want me to,” (Y/n) looked a bit hesitant, what if Sunghoon had changed his mind about her? She began retracting her hand, but before she could bring it more than an inch closer to her, Sunghoon quickly snatched the collar from her hand and put it on himself. “Let’s go home, please,” (Y/n) smiled at him, and gently grabbed one of his hands into hers, his other hand held a small bag, his clothes. We need to get him some new clothes, one day at a time. (Y/n) gently guided the cat out of his room and out of the shelter toward her car. 

It felt like a fever dream, she treated him like a person and not just a pet, he got to ride in the front seat of the car, in his human form, every car ride he had ever had previously was in his cat form. Sunghoon didn’t dare let go of (Y/n)’s hand once they both sat in the car, afraid that if he wasn’t touching her, she would disappear. But she didn’t, she was there, she was real, and now she was his. 

Sunghoon was in awe of the house in front of him, (Y/n) had parked the car in front of a cozy-looking house. It wasn’t the biggest one he had seen, but it was the one that looked the most like a home. “Welcome home, it’s not huge but it’s enough for the two of us,” “I don’t know what to say, I’m just so happy to finally have a place to call home, thank you,” Once again, Sunghoon embraced (Y/n) into a tight hug, he didn’t even notice himself moving closer to her before he had already buried his face in her neck. Her scent was intoxicatingly sweet, he liked it, a lot. 

“I didn’t expect you to be so cuddly, I’m not complaining, though, but at the shelter they told me you were quite cold to everyone,” “Mhm, being rejected over and over will do that to you, I don’t know why, but I just really like being close to you,” He snuggled even closer to the human, his tail was swishing back and forth, his sensitive ears made magnetic shocks go through him as they rubbed against her. “Come on, let’s head inside, it’s cold out here, at least for me, I know hybrids tend to be warmer than us humans, so you might not notice it as well as I do,” Sunghoon reluctantly released her so that they could walk into the house. Everything smelled so strongly of her, he loved it, he never wanted to leave.  

 (Y/n) showed Sunghoon around the house, he still held onto her hand whenever he could, “So, this is my bedroom, and here just across from it, would be your room, it’s really plain right now but you will be able to decorate it as you wish, these two rooms have private bathrooms so we don’t have to share, and then downstairs there’s another bathroom that we can use when we’re down there or if we have guests over, which we probably won’t have considering that I don’t have any friends and you’ve been in the shelter for so long,” Sunghoon didn’t understand why he almost felt happy about it being only the two of them, forever. 

“The bed is made for you in there, there’s a towel and toiletries in the bathroom if you want to take a shower before going to bed, I have taken time of work for a week so we can go out shopping for some new clothes and things for your room during the upcoming days, I also don’t know anything about your preferred diet so we need to buy stuff for that too,” “I eat most things humans do, except for mint-choco ice cream, I need to eat a lot of protein to stay healthy, and because of my cat side I can’t eat big amounts of onion, garlic, and stuff like that. I can eat some but not a lot or I can get gut problems or even anemia,” “Good to know, well, we’ll go shopping tomorrow so everything will be fine, you can pick whatever you want then, I’m gonna head to bed as I’m exhausted, sleep well, kitten,” 

Sunghoon blushed at the nickname, “Ya, I’m not a kitten,” “Mhm, you keep telling yourself that,” “Good night,” Sunghoon was a bit scared to say good night, afraid that this wonderful dream would end if he did. Nonetheless, he opened the door to his room. (Y/n) had been right about the room being plain, but so had his room at the shelter been so one more night of that, didn’t bother him. The bed was big, almost three times the size of his old one. He walked into the bathroom, it was nice, luxurious even, once again, he realized that (Y/n) treated him as a person and not as a pet. 

Even though he was part cat, Sunghoon loved showering, it was nice feeling clean and fresh, the soap in the bathroom was mostly targeted toward women as it smelled like roses, it smelled like (Y/n), so Sunghoon didn’t mind it. He liked smelling like her. However, he would have wished that the scent actually came directly from (Y/n) and not just from using the same soap. 

After the shower, Sunghoon lay down in the bed, it was soft, like a cloud, before he knew it, he had fallen asleep, dreaming of (Y/n) and how living with her would be. 

~ Fast forward a week ~ 

During this week, (Y/n) and Sunghoon had gone shopping for clothes, towels, toiletries, food, and a few decorative pieces for his room and for the house to make it feel more like his home as well and not only have touches of (Y/n). Sunghoon enjoyed spending time with (Y/n), at home it was just the two of them, he could hug her as much as he wanted to, he could make sure that his scent was all over her, and hers on him, he was lovesick and he never wanted this to end. 

A week had gone by, and it was now time for (Y/n) to go back to work. This means Sunghoon would be home alone for a few hours every other day as (Y/n) could work from home some days. “I don’t want you to leave, please don’t leave me,” He tried to give the human his best ‘puppy eyes’, but nothing worked, she wouldn’t budge. “I have to work, Hoon, otherwise I can’t afford to keep the house, or you,” Sunghoon was pouting but he eventually gave in, letting go of (Y/n), he went to the sofa, shifted to his cat form, and curled up on the sofa, covering his eyes with his tail. He was sad and wanted to spend his lonely hours asleep until (Y/n) would return from work. 

Eventually, Sunghoon got used to (Y/n) heading to work every other day, he still didn’t like it, but he understood that it was a must for her to work. To work off some of his possessive feelings that wanted to lock her up and never let her leave him, Sunghoon began working out, he quickly became buff, his muscles defined and tempting. Oh so tempting, for (Y/n). There was no denying that she had found the hybrid incredibly attractive before, but now, she could barely resist throwing herself at him. But that would be wrong. What if he didn’t want that? So she tried to keep her horny thoughts to herself, and maybe it was time to find a new partner so that she could blow off some steam. Even if she wished that her partner would be Sunghoon. 

~ About a month after (Y/n) went back to work ~

(Y/n) walked through the door, groceries in hand, Sunghoon noticed that she seemed extra cheerful today, he had been in his cat form so he shifted back to his human form just as she came into the living room. “Hello, kitten, how are you?” “I’m good, worked out a bit earlier, and then I watched a movie, fell asleep, that’s about it, how about you?” “I’m good, I ate lunch with one of my coworkers today, Jay, he’s really nice, he even paid for my lunch, he’s handsome as well,” 

Sunghoon’s smile fell. (Y/n) had eaten lunch with another man, he’s handsome, no, you’re not supposed to find other men attractive, you have me, you don’t need anyone else. He thought, but he tried to swallow his jealousy, he couldn’t lose you for such a silly reason. Silly. No. This was about life or death. 

For the following couple of days, (Y/n) always had something to say about this Jay. Sunghoon was trying his best to control himself but each day it got harder and harder, the final straw for his self-control was when you returned home, later than usual, and you smelled like a man, it was subtle, but it was clearly there for his sensitive nose. Someone’s trying to steal my (Y/n) from me. 

As (Y/n) stepped into the living room, talking about Jay once again, his scent creeping up on Sunghoon, her eyes sparkling, he couldn’t take it anymore. He was jealous, jealous that another man had touched his girl, jealous that (Y/n) seemed so enthralled with this man. He was threatened, what if this Jay takes his place in (Y/n)’s life? What if she doesn’t want him anymore if she has Jay? What if he loses his home? He couldn’t control himself, his body moving out of pure instinct. 

Sunghoon lightly pushed (Y/n)’s shoulders until her back collided with the wall, he had one hand on her waist now, and the other on her cheek, he gazed into her eyes with yearning, worry, sadness, and an urgency like never before. “What--mmm” Before she could end her sentence, Sunghoon crashed his lips onto hers, his fangs felt cold against her lips yet she welcomed the feeling, it was exciting, new, it felt dangerous. 

(Y/n) was surprised, stunned, by the cat’s actions, but she didn’t dare push him away, not because of fear, but because she was afraid this was her only chance to experience him. Sunghoon inhaled deeply, almost going feral from the scent of the (Y/n)’s arousal, this only caused him to deepen the kiss even more. 

Once Sunghoon stopped attacking (Y/n)’s lips with his own, he had teary eyes, from frustration, “Please don’t abandon me for some guy, I’m better than him, please, you have to be mine, you’re mine to keep, mine to love, please, I love you, I don’t want to share you with anyone, I want to be selfish, just this once, please, (Y/n),” 

(Y/n) was still trying to catch her breath from the make-out session that had just happened, she raised one hand to his cheek, gently caressing it, wiping away some tears that escaped from his eye, she leaned in, giving him a gentle peck on the lips. “I’m all yours, Honnie, you don’t have to share, don’t worry, I only need you,” 

Sunghoon immediately leaned down for more kisses. This time even deeper, yet more gentle than the first. He was ecstatic, he finally had his home, and his person, his person that he didn’t have to share. She was his and he was hers. “I can’t control myself anymore, I need all of you,” “Then take me,” Sunghoon lifted (Y/n) up and carried her to his bed, where they spent a long night reassuring one another of their love for each other, and Sunghoon made sure to erase every trace of Jay from her body and mind. Now his scent was engulfing her entire being, and his image was the only one in her head. His tail swished happily back and forth as (Y/n) lay in his arms, and soon enough she fell asleep, as she listened to him spinning loudly, happy to finally call her his. 

[sereinnu]

Fractured Tides 2

Warnings: STEP-CEST| drugs and alcohol use| Rafe Cameron| very foul language| more yet to come| DON'T read if you're uncomfortable with these themes|MDNI| I already warned you not to read|

Rafe Cameron x Step-sister!Reader

Despite your efforts to make peace, your stepbrother Rafe's hatred for you persists. Each attempt to bridge the gap only seems to widen the divide, leaving you wondering if you'll ever find common ground in this family.

The next morning arrived with an uneasy quiet, the tension from the previous night lingering in the air like a storm cloud. You went through the motions of your morning routine, but your thoughts were consumed by your late-night encounter with Rafe. His words echoed in your mind, the bitterness and pain in them impossible to ignore.

When you finally made your way downstairs, the house was already buzzing with activity. Rose was in the kitchen, preparing breakfast, while Wheezie sat at the table, scrolling through her phone. Sarah was nowhere to be seen, likely off with John B, and Ward was in his office, as usual. But Rafe wasn’t around.

You sat down at the table, your mind still elsewhere, when Rose’s voice broke through your thoughts.

“You okay, dear?” she asked, her tone pleasant but distant. Rose was always polite, always well-mannered, but there was a disconnect between her and the rest of the family. She played the role of the perfect hostess, but she rarely got involved in the messy, emotional parts of family life.

You forced a smile, not wanting to draw any attention to yourself. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Rose seemed satisfied with your response and went back to preparing breakfast. Wheezie glanced up from her phone, giving you a curious look, but she didn’t say anything. You were grateful for that—Wheezie had a way of picking up on things others missed, but she also knew when to keep her observations to herself.

As you picked at your food, your mind kept drifting back to Rafe. You hadn’t seen him since last night, and part of you was worried about how he was doing. The other part of you knew that worrying about Rafe was like worrying about a ticking time bomb—it was only a matter of time before he exploded, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

Just as you were finishing your breakfast, the front door slammed open, and Rafe strode in, his expression stormy. His hair was disheveled, and there was a wild look in his eyes that set your nerves on edge. You could tell right away that something was wrong.

Rose looked up from the stove, her brow furrowing. “Rafe, where have you been?”

“Out,” Rafe muttered, brushing past her without so much as a glance.

“Rafe—” Rose started, but he cut her off.

“Not now, Rose,” he snapped, his tone sharp enough to make her recoil slightly.

You watched as Rafe stalked through the house, his anger radiating off him in waves. You could tell he was on edge, barely holding it together. It was the same look he had whenever he was spiraling, and you knew from experience that it wouldn’t take much to push him over the edge.

Against your better judgment, you stood up and followed him, your heart pounding in your chest. You found him in the living room, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. When he saw you, he stopped, his eyes narrowing.

“What do you want?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

You hesitated, not sure what to say. The Rafe in front of you was different from the one you had seen last night. This Rafe was volatile, unpredictable, and you knew you had to be careful.

“I just… wanted to check on you,” you said cautiously, keeping your distance.

Rafe let out a harsh laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Why? So you can play the concerned little sister? Don’t waste your time.”

“I’m not wasting my time,” you shot back, feeling a flicker of frustration. “I’m trying to help you, Rafe.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “You can’t help me. No one can."

There was a rawness in his voice that made your heart ache, but you didn’t back down. “Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop trying.”

Rafe stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, he turned and punched the wall, his fist connecting with a sickening thud. You flinched, instinctively stepping back as he leaned against the wall, breathing heavily.

“Rafe,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He didn’t respond, his body tense and trembling with barely contained rage. You knew he was on the brink, teetering on the edge of a breakdown, and you felt helpless to do anything about it.

But you couldn’t just stand there and watch him self-destruct.

Carefully, you stepped closer, your heart pounding in your ears. “Rafe, please. Talk to me.”

He remained silent, his head bowed as he struggled to regain control. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. You had seen him like this before, but it never got easier.

After what felt like an eternity, Rafe finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

The admission was so quiet, so vulnerable, that it took you by surprise. You had never heard Rafe speak like that before, had never seen him so raw and exposed. It made your chest tighten with a mix of emotions—sympathy, fear, and a deep, aching sadness.

You reached out, placing a hand on his arm. He tensed under your touch but didn’t pull away. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Rafe. You’re just… going through something. But you don’t have to go through it alone.”

He looked at you then, his eyes full of turmoil. “I don’t know how to fix it.”

You squeezed his arm gently, trying to convey as much reassurance as you could. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

For a moment, you thought he might actually open up to you, might finally let you in. But then, just as quickly as the moment of vulnerability had come, it was gone. Rafe pulled away, his expression hardening once more.

“Don’t bother,” he muttered, turning his back on you. “Just leave me alone.”

The words hit you like a physical blow, but you forced yourself to stay calm. “Rafe—”

“Leave!” he shouted, his voice full of anger and frustration.

You flinched but didn’t argue. You knew pushing him any further would only make things worse. So, with a heavy heart, you turned and walked away, leaving him to his demons.

As you made your way back upstairs, you couldn’t shake the feeling of helplessness that had settled over you. Rafe was slipping further and further away, and you didn’t know how to reach him. But you knew one thing for certain: you weren’t going to give up on him, no matter how much he tried to push you away.

-

You stumbled back to your room, the sting of Rafe’s rejection still fresh. Each step up the stairs felt heavier, the weight of his anger pressing down on you. When you finally reached your room, you shut the door behind you and leaned against it, taking a moment to collect yourself.

The silence in your room was thick, amplifying the turmoil inside you. You moved to your bed and sat down heavily, the soft comfort of the space feeling at odds with the chaos in your mind. You needed something to distract yourself, something to ground you. Reaching for your book, you began to read, hoping the repetitive motion of the stories would help calm your thoughts.

Hours passed as you kept reading. Your book almost ended up looking like a sketchpad with all the small doodles at the side.

The quiet was interrupted by a knock on your door. You glanced up, unsure of who it could be. “Come in,” you called out.

Rose entered, her face showing a mixture of concern and detachment. She glanced around the room, her gaze lingering on your sketchpad. “I saw you’ve been up here for a while. Everything okay?”

You forced a smile, trying to mask your worries. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just needed some time alone.”

Rose nodded, her expression distant. “I understand. But I have to say, Rafe’s behavior is becoming more concerning. He’s been acting out, and honestly, he’s a bit of a loose cannon.”

You looked down, feeling the sting of her words. “I know he’s troubled. It’s just... hard to see him like this.”

Rose’s gaze hardened slightly. “He’s always been unpredictable. Some people just can’t be helped, no matter how much you try. It’s not worth getting too involved. Sometimes it’s best to just keep your distance.”

Her words felt like a cold splash of reality. The kindness and warmth you had hoped for from Rose were absent, replaced by a pragmatic detachment. You nodded, feeling a pang of disappointment. “I understand. I just want to do what I can to help him.”

Rose’s expression softened, but only a little. “Just be careful. You don’t want to get caught up in his mess. It’s not worth jeopardizing your own peace of mind.”

With that, Rose left the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts once more. You returned to your drawing, but the soothing effect was diminished. Her words echoed in your mind, making you question your own efforts.

As evening approached, you felt a growing sense of resolve. Despite Rose’s advice, you couldn’t simply walk away from Rafe. You knew his anger and pain were not insurmountable, even if others saw him as beyond help.

You wanted to be there for him, to find a way to reach the part of him that still cared.

You took a deep breath, determined to approach the situation with patience and understanding. Even if Rose thought Rafe was a lost cause, you believed in trying.

For now, you’d focus on being a steady presence, ready to offer support in whatever form he might need, hoping that eventually, he would find his way back.

-

The afternoon sun filtered through the hallway as you made your way to Rafe’s room. Your thoughts were muddled with concern and a growing sense of urgency. You had resolved to speak with him, hoping to address the tension and confusion of the previous night.

You raised your hand and knocked softly on Rafe’s door. “Rafe? Can we talk?”

There was a moment of silence before you heard the sound of movement from inside. The door opened slightly, revealing Rafe’s face, his features a mix of surprise and irritation. His gaze shifted behind him, and you caught a glimpse of the disheveled room. The sight made your heart skip a beat.

Rafe was lounging on his bed, his bare torso exposed, and next to him was a naked blonde woman, her hair spread out over the pillow. You froze, your cheeks flushing with a deep red. The room’s disarray and the woman's casual nudity hit you like a wave. Embarrassment surged through you, and a pang of jealousy stabbed at your chest. You didn’t want to compare yourself to her, but it was impossible not to feel overshadowed.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” you stammered, your face burning. “I didn’t realize...”

Before you could say anything more, the door began to close. You instinctively tried to stop it, but the woman shot you an irritated glare. “Can’t you see we’re busy here?”

You pulled your hand away and took a step back, your heart pounding with a mix of embarrassment and discomfort. “I’ll just...”

The door slammed shut, but just as you turned to leave, it flew open again. Rafe emerged, a towel wrapped hastily around his waist, his hair still damp from whatever had happened. His expression was a storm of annoyance and reluctant embarrassment.

“Agh, fuck” he said, his voice a mix of frustration and urgency.

You turned, facing him with a flushed face and trembling hands. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I was just trying to talk to you.”

Rafe’s eyes were hard, but there was a flicker of something else—panic. “This is not the time. Can’t you see I’m dealing with...”

Before he could finish, Ellie, the blonde woman, stepped into the hallway, the shirt she was wearing clearly coming from rafe's closet. She glared at you, clearly annoyed. “Ugh, we were in the middle of something..”

Your cheeks reddened even more, and you stumbled over your words. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Rafe cut in sharply, his voice tight with frustration. “Get out.”

Her eyes widened with surprise and a hint of resentment. “What? You can’t just—”

“I said, leave,” Rafe repeated, his tone firmer now, though he tried to keep it calm.

She huffed, shooting one last scathing look in your direction before turning and walking away. “Whatever. You’re such a jerk.”

The sound of her heels fading away left a tense silence in the air. Rafe’s face was a mix of exasperation and embarrassment. He rubbed his temples, clearly annoyed at the interruption.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath. “I didn’t even get to finish. I was...”

His frustration was palpable, and you could sense that the situation had disrupted more than just his plans. You stood there, feeling a deep pang of humiliation.

“I’m really sorry,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I...”

Rafe’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something softer in his gaze. “It’s not just about you walking in. It’s... I had other things going on and, and now it’s fucking..”

You looked away, feeling the weight of the situation. “I didn’t realize. I just thought—”

“You know what, it’s fine,” Rafe cut you off, his tone a mixture of irritation and reluctant acceptance. “Just... don’t make a big deal out of it.”

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Okay. I’ll leave you alone.”

As you turned to walk away, you felt a heavy weight in your chest. The embarrassment and awkwardness of the situation lingered, but you knew you had to respect his space.

-

You retreated to your room after the encounter with Rafe, your mind a whirlwind of confusion and embarrassment. You tried to shake off the images from earlier, but they lingered, replaying in your head with uncomfortable clarity. Every time you thought about the woman in his bed and Rafe’s annoyed reaction, you felt a pang of jealousy and discomfort.

Hours passed in restless contemplation. When you finally decided to venture downstairs for a late-night snack, you hoped the distraction might ease your mind. You moved cautiously through the house, trying to avoid any further encounters with Rafe.

As you entered the kitchen, you heard footsteps in the hallway. Your heart skipped a beat as you turned, half-expecting Rafe to appear. But to your relief, it was Sarah, looking tired but content.

“Hey,” she greeted, her voice subdued. “Didn’t expect anyone else to be up.”

“Just needed a break,” you said, trying to sound casual as you grabbed something from the fridge. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Sarah nodded, her gaze wandering as she leaned against the counter. “I get that. Things have been pretty crazy lately.”

You engaged in light conversation with Sarah, appreciating the distraction from your earlier encounter. She spoke about her day with John B and the Pogues, offering you some welcome normalcy. The warmth of her presence helped to dull the edge of your discomfort.

After Sarah left to get some rest, you found yourself alone in the kitchen. You finished your snack and began tidying up, the silence of the house pressing in on you. As you turned to leave, you heard a faint creak coming from the direction of the stairs.

Cautiously, you approached the top of the stairs. Rafe’s door was slightly ajar, and you could see him standing in the hallway, dressed in a clean shirt and jeans. His posture was rigid, and his expression was as cold and intimidating as it had been that morning.

You hesitated, torn between wanting to confront him and fearing his reaction. Gathering your courage, you took a step forward. As you did, Rafe’s gaze locked onto you. His eyes, though dark, had a sharp intensity that made you instinctively take a step back.

“What are you doing out of your room?” Rafe’s voice was low, edged with a dangerous undertone.

You swallowed, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up your neck. “I— I couldn’t sleep. I was just... looking for something to eat.”

Rafe’s gaze didn’t soften. He took a step closer, his presence imposing and commanding. “It’s late. You should be in bed.”

You nodded quickly, feeling the weight of his scrutiny. “I’m sorry for... interrupting earlier. I didn’t mean to—”

Rafe cut you off with a curt gesture. “Save it. I don’t need apologies. Just stay out of my way.”

His words stung more than you expected, but you tried to keep your composure. “Okay. I’ll go.”

Before you could turn away, Rafe’s eyes narrowed slightly. He seemed to be weighing something, his expression cold and unreadable. “It’s not just about staying out of my way. You shouldn’t be around when I’m dealing with... things.”

You felt a pang of hurt and jealousy. Despite Rafe’s attempts to push you away, you couldn’t ignore the twinge of envy you felt when you thought about him with someone else. The woman he’d been with earlier was a stark reminder of how little you seemed to matter to him.

Rafe’s gaze remained fixed on you, his irritation palpable. He didn’t seem interested in making small talk or offering comfort. Instead, he appeared to be impatient, as if your presence was an unwelcome intrusion.

“I’ve got things to deal with,” he said, his tone clipped. “You should head back to your room.”

You nodded, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I’ll go.”

As you turned to leave, you heard Rafe mutter something under his breath, but it was too quiet for you to catch. You retreated to your room, feeling the sting of his cold demeanor. The interaction had left you feeling more isolated than ever, but you knew pushing further would only drive him away.

Back in your room, you tried to calm your racing heart. The feelings of jealousy and frustration were unsettling, but you couldn’t let them deter you. Despite Rafe’s harshness and his attempts to shut you out, you knew you couldn’t give up on him. For now, all you could do was hope that, eventually, he might open up and let you in, even if it seemed like an impossible task.

-

The following days were a mixture of unease and routine. You continued to navigate the house with a growing sense of tension, carefully avoiding Rafe while trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy. The interactions with him remained sparse and uncomfortable, characterized by his cold indifference and frequent outbursts.

Despite the strained atmosphere, you managed to keep yourself busy with daily chores and your own personal projects. You busied yourself with studies and a few hobbies to keep your mind occupied, trying to ignore the lingering discomfort and unresolved emotions.

One evening, as you sat in the living room working on a sketch, the front door creaked open, and the sound of laughter and loud voices drifted into the house. The Kooks had arrived, bringing with them an air of recklessness and exuberance that contrasted sharply with the oppressive atmosphere of the past few days.

You heard the familiar voices of Topper and his friends mingling with Rafe’s deeper, more commanding tone. It seemed like the gathering was going to be loud and chaotic, a welcome distraction from the tense silence that had settled over the household.

Deciding to make your way downstairs, you hoped the lively atmosphere might lift your spirits. As you approached the living room, you could see the crowd of Kooks and their guests gathered, drinks in hand and music blaring.

Rafe was at the center of it all, his presence commanding the room. He looked more animated than you had seen him in days, though there was still an undercurrent of agitation in his movements. The energy of the party seemed to mask his earlier frustration, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was still on edge.

Topper spotted you and came over, a wide grin on his face. “Hey, glad you could make it. We’re just getting started!”

You managed a polite smile, trying to blend in with the crowd. “Thanks, Topper. I thought I’d check it out.”

As the evening wore on, you found yourself drifting through the crowd, trying to enjoy the festivities. The music was loud, and the atmosphere was charged with a mix of energy and tension. You caught glimpses of Rafe throughout the night, but his attention was consistently fixed on you.

Despite the distractions around him, Rafe’s eyes remained locked on you. He appeared indifferent to the blonde woman who tried to draw his attention, her advances going unnoticed as he followed your every move from across the room. It was both unsettling and oddly comforting, though it only deepened the confusion you felt about your relationship with him.

Eventually, you found yourself near the bar, trying to stay out of the way. Rafe was engaged in conversation with some of his friends, but his gaze never strayed far from you. The weight of his stare was heavy, and it made you acutely aware of your presence in the room.

Just as you were about to turn away, JJ Maybank, a charming Pogues member with a laid-back demeanor, approached you. He had noticed you standing alone and seemed genuinely concerned.

“Hey there,” JJ said with a friendly smile. “You look like you’re having a rough time. Mind if I join you?”

You looked up, surprised by his sudden appearance. “Oh, sure. I’m just trying to find a quiet spot.”

JJ nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, this place can get pretty overwhelming. I just started working as a waiter here, so I know the chaos all too well.”

You laugh, your eyes twinkling as JJ copies you.

He struck up an easy conversation, his humor and genuine interest in your well-being making you feel more at ease. JJ’s respectful and kind demeanor was a welcome contrast to the tense atmosphere and Rafe’s intimidating presence.

As JJ chatted with you, you found yourself relaxing for the first time that evening. His light-hearted jokes and easygoing nature helped distract you from the underlying tension. Despite your initial hesitation, you found yourself enjoying his company and the brief respite from the party’s chaos.

Rafe’s gaze was still fixed on you, though he made no effort to intervene. His attention was unwavering, and the contrast between his cold demeanor and JJ’s warmth only heightened your sense of isolation.

Suddenly, Rafe’s mood shifted. His jaw tightened, and his eyes darkened with a simmering intensity as he watched JJ’s easy conversation with you. Rafe’s irritation was palpable, and it became clear that he was growing increasingly possessive.

As JJ moved closer, making a light-hearted comment, Rafe’s composure snapped. He pushed through the crowd, his movements sharp and deliberate. The cheerful chatter around you faded as Rafe approached with a palpable air of menace.

“Hey,” Rafe’s voice cut through the noise, cold and commanding. “I think it’s time for you to move along.”

JJ looked up, startled by the sudden change in atmosphere. “Whoa, man. We’re just talking.”

Rafe’s eyes were fixed on JJ, his expression a mix of annoyance and barely concealed rage. “I don’t think you heard me. I don’t want you talking to her.”

JJ raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by Rafe’s aggression. “What’s your problem, dude? We’re just chatting. No need to be a jerk.”

The tension between them was immediate and intense. Rafe’s posture was rigid, his body language exuding a dangerous energy. The crowd around them began to take notice, sensing the escalating conflict.

You felt a pang of anxiety, unsure of how to intervene or diffuse the situation. The atmosphere was charged, and you could sense that Rafe’s possessiveness was boiling over.

“Rafe, it’s fine,” you said, trying to calm him down. “JJ’s just being friendly.”

Rafe’s eyes flicked to you, momentarily softening before his irritation returned. “Stay out of this. I don’t want you around him.”

JJ stepped between you and Rafe, his expression shifting from confusion to anger. “You’re way out of line, man. She’s allowed to talk to whoever she wants.”

Rafe’s anger erupted. “Not when that ‘whoever’ is someone from the other side of the tracks. You don’t get to decide who she spends her time with.”

The two men were now inches apart, their faces inches from each other. The confrontation was escalating quickly, and the surrounding crowd was growing restless, whispering among themselves.

In a sudden burst of aggression, Rafe shoved JJ, sending him stumbling back. JJ’s eyes widened in shock, and he clenched his fists, clearly ready to retaliate.

“Rafe, stop it!” you cried out, stepping between them in a desperate attempt to break up the fight. “This isn’t the place for this.”

Rafe ignored you, his focus solely on JJ. “You need to leave. Now.”

JJ’s gaze remained steady, though his anger was evident. “Fine. If you’re gonna act like a jerk, I’m outta here. But don’t think this is over.”

With that, JJ pushed past Rafe, making his way through the crowd and out of the house. The tension in the room lingered, and you felt a mixture of relief and disappointment as the immediate threat of violence subsided.

Rafe’s rage seemed to drain away as he turned his attention back to you, his eyes still burning with a fierce possessiveness. The confrontation had left a mark, and you could see the complexity of emotions swirling within him.

“Why did you have to bring him into this?” Rafe’s voice was harsh, his anger now directed at you.

You looked at him, feeling a mix of confusion and hurt. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble. I was just trying to have a conversation.”

Rafe’s expression remained cold, though there was a hint of something else in his eyes—regret, perhaps, or vulnerability. “Well, now you know how it feels when someone intrudes on something that’s not their business.”

The crowd had begun to disperse, the party’s energy now subdued by the conflict. As you stood there, you felt the weight of Rafe’s possessiveness and anger pressing down on you, leaving you with more questions than answers.

The night had ended in chaos, and as you retreated to your room, the events of the evening replayed in your mind. The fight, Rafe’s possessiveness, and the tension between you all left a lingering sense of uncertainty. The lines between protection and control had blurred, and you knew you needed to confront these issues head-on if there was any hope of resolving the growing rift between you and Rafe.

[succumbtothenightmare]

Caged In: Noah Sebastian[One Shot]

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, slight smut, talks about anxiety and depression.

Summary: Noah feels himself falling deeper into the darkness and only one person can pull him out.

Authors Note: I'd felt compelled to write about Noah's mental health break and Just Pretend acoustic since I first heard it. I hope you all love it.

Tags: @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @lma1986 @dsireland86 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @thatchickwiththecamera @concreteemo @cookiesupplier @whenthesummerdies @sammyjoeee @madomens @xxkittenkissesxx @burning-outx @shayzillaaaa @darling-millicent-aubrey @flowery-mess @badomensls @reyadawn @exitwoundsx @malice-ov-mercy @princesspeach-00 @lookwhatitcost @collective-heartbreak @klutzy-kay24 @sorrowsofsilence @sweetlittlekitsune @rxdlstgn @shilohrosechicken @itsafullmoon @toospooktocute @respectfulrebel @cloudykoookie @niicoleleigh @thisbicc @pathion @themortaljessica @tashka @its-inourblood @amelia-acero @thescarlettvvitch @mitchhbitch

“Noah?” I called out into the vast darkness of our home. 

The old bones of the home creaked with each step as I walked farther into the darkness, a deep frown settling on my face. I was certain he was home, the text I received from him hours ago told me so. 

My Love 🖤: I’m going to lay down for a bit. Worked too hard in the studio.

I’d been out all afternoon with friends, catching up with them after not seeing them for a few months. I was hesitant to leave due to everything that came to light with Noah but he assured me with an almost there smile that he’d be alright while I was gone. He would keep himself busy in the studio. 

“Noah?” 

My voice met silence as I slowly ascended the stairs, realizing he wasn’t on the main level. It was so quiet, I wasn’t sure if Jesse or Michael were home. Both of their bedroom doors were shut and knowing that Jesse always kept his door open when he was home, it was clear he wasn't. 

Softly knocking on Michael’s door, he opened it with a head full of messy bed head. 

“Sorry,” I frowned when I remembered it was almost late evening. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”  

He gave me a reassuring smile. “It’s alright, Y/N. You got my text?” 

I nodded. Michael’s text was the reason why I’d cut my girls night early. 

“Is he in the studio?” I asked. 

“No,” Michael shook his head. “He met up with Ash for a lesson but I haven’t heard him come home.”

“He told me he was going to lay down,” I pulled out my phone to check Noah’s location. 

At Home since 2:30 p.m.

“Noah’s been home all day,” I said. 

Now it was Michael who frowned. “Why would he lie to us?”

“I have a feeling I know why,” I sighed. 

The frown never left my face at this point so with a small nod, I walked down to the other end of the hallway towards mine and Noah’s bedroom. I could have checked here first, but the SOS text I received from Michael had me wanting to check in with him first. 

As I approached our bedroom door, a soft sound touched my ears and I felt my world turn upside down. My heart dropped to the pits of my stomach as I hesitated reaching for the knob. I could feel the tears burning in the corners of my eyes and let out a long breath.

We couldn’t ignore this any longer. The hiding, the pretending, and the lies needed to stop.

Pushing through the bedroom door, I bypassed the made bed and entered the ensuite bathroom, nearly faltering at the sight in front of me. 

Oh, Noah. 

The bathroom light was off, only lit up from the moonlight breaking its way through the glass of the large window above the bathtub. His large frame slumped against the shower wall, his toned and defined back to me. The intricate lines of his tattoo shivering underneath the water that most likely ran cold. Both of his hands were spread widely apart against the wall, keeping him anchored while his forehead hung low. Droplets of water fell from the ends of his hair, down to the water pooling at his feet. 

Over the noise of the shower, soft cries echoed in the marbled space and Noah’s shoulders shook violently as the sobs tore through him. I stripped out of my clothes pretty quickly, not bothering to take my makeup off as I stepped into the large shower and wrapped my arms around him from behind. 

Noah’s cries seized for a moment and I knew that he would try to pretend everything was fine. 

“It’s alright,” I cooed, placing a kiss to the middle of his shoulder blades. 

One of his hands reached for mine wrapped around him and brought it to his lips. 

“You’re home early.” 

I rested my cheek against his back. “You needed me.” 

“Angel,” Noah breathed. 

Pretty quickly, I slipped underneath his other extended arm so now I was facing him. Glancing up through the chilled shower water that hung on my eyelashes, I sucked in a breath when I noticed how bloodshot Noah’s eyes were. 

“Oh, love,” I carefully caressed his cheek. 

He hadn’t shaved in weeks and I desperately wanted to feel the ginger hair that lined around his mouth tickling the sensitive skin of my thighs. 

Those almond eyes that were always filled with love, wonder, and light had begun to dull into nothing; darkness like the feeling that was beginning to dig its claws into Noah. I’d been afraid for weeks now that while I was away with work or other things that the darkness would swallow him whole. Which is why Michael texted me earlier, he’d become worried for his best friend. 

“I’m fine,” his voice shook. 

“No you’re not,” I gently shook my head. “You’re far from fine, Noah. You can’t keep this facade up.” 

I felt him beginning to slip away from me, like he had many times before. Whenever I tried to get close to him, he would push me away with the lie that nothing is wrong with him. 

“Stop,” I almost begged while wrapping my arms around his neck. “Please don’t pull away from me.” 

Noah stood frozen underneath the chill of the water, the heat long gone and telling me he had been in the shower for quite some time. Behind those dark eyes told an even darker story of a broken man crying out for help. The war that waged in his mind was one he couldn’t continue to battle on his own. 

“I can’t,” Noah shook his head. “You don’t deserve my demons. Your light is too pure for them, angel.” 

My shoulders fell when he pulled away from me completely, the space between us was something I’d become accustomed too. Every time I tried to get close to him, have him open up to me, Noah created an even larger space between us. 

“That’s not fair,” I wrapped my arms around my chilled body. “You don’t get to make that decision, Noah. It’s in our fucking vows that I’ll help you through these dark times.”

His face twitched and he cast his eyes down to his feet, a silent way of telling me he was done with the conversation. I did my best to not let my anger over take me because this wasn’t something he deserved. It wasn't his fault that the demons were winning. I needed to be his light in the darkness. 

For a brief moment, I drank in the sight of his bare body in front of me as the droplets of water ran down the grooves of his muscles. I followed one particular drop of water as it fell over his cock and I bit my lip. It had been weeks since we were intimate last because Noah wasn’t at the right mental headspace for it. I never pushed him, letting him take his time. But as the weeks went on and the heated kisses turned into barely there pecks, my heart was beginning to fear the worst. 

“Do you still love me?” I blurted out. 

Noah’s head snapped up. “What?” 

Turning my head to the side, I let out a shaky breath and wiped away the water from my face. 

“I didn’t mean to. This isn’t about me.” 

My name fell in a quiet whisper as I left Noah standing in the shower alone and wrapped one of the large towels around my frame, doing my best not to shiver at the chill I felt deep within my bones.

It was true. This wasn’t about me. I was supposed to be comforting Noah, not asking him a question I already knew the answer to. But I let those demons that were plaguing Noah affect me. I knew better than to let those win. 

Turning swiftly on my heels, ready to go back into the bathroom to apologize, I nearly dropped my towel when I saw Noah’s tall frame standing over me. He wore his towel loosely around his hips and the wet tendrils of his maple hair fell into his eyes. His broad chest rose and fell with each deep breath as his hands quickly found my hips, yanking me into his chest. 

“Don’t ever question my love for you, angel. Alright?” 

His voice was soft, which surprised me. I expected him to be upset and gruff with my accusation. 

“I didn’t mean to,” my bottom lip wobbled. “I can feel you physically and emotionally pulling away from me, love. I guess I needed that reassurance.” 

I felt a subtle kiss to my forehead and found myself grasping at the sensation it filled me with. 

“I love you so much, Y/N,” Noah’s eyes glistened as he looked down at me. 

We both sniffled at the same time and I molded even farther into his embrace. 

“I love you too,” I proclaimed. 

“I know,” he nodded once. “I also know that I’ve been pulling away from you and I don’t mean to. The demons in my mind keep telling me that no one cares. They keep whispering that no one will be there to save me.” 

“That’s not true,” I began, to which he cut me off by wrapping a hand around the side of my neck. 

“I know that. I’m trying to fight against them but it’s been so hard with everything going on. I feel like my mind and body are in a constant battle of what’s right,” Noah divulged with a tight grip on my neck, almost as if he was afraid I’d be the one to slip away. 

“I’m locked in a cage with those demons. They keep beating me down, not letting me take a fucking breath,” his nose scrunched in an effort to keep the tears away. “They’re telling me to leave you because you deserve a husband that is home all the time, not on the road most of the year. You deserve a man that can give you all of his time.”

“Noah,” I grasped at the thick muscles of his arms, my heart breaking at the sight of my husband looking so defeated. 

I’d known Noah since we were teens and given everything he'd gone through, I’d never seen him like this before. He’d always been the type of man that put others first, took care of his family before himself, and it became clear that I might not have been doing my part of a wife and taking care of him.  

The chilled night air crept in through our open bedroom window, the curtains dancing to the music of the crickets outside and our gentle cries. 

“I’ve lied to everyone. Pretended that everything is fine when it’s not. I’m crumbling into a man I don’t recognize anymore and I’m so fucking scared,” Noah burying his face int he crook of my neck, his tears mixing with the water from the shower that had yet to dry. 

“Will you wait for me until I let you down?” 

With a loving embrace, I began to sway Noah in my arms while his face was still hiding in my neck. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Noah,” I promised. “I’m right here with you. Through the darkness. I’ll do whatever I can to pull you out.” 

The silence from him was deafening, an eerie feeling that made you tip toe because you were afraid one wrong move would set it off. All of us knew Noah was a ticking time bomb and we all were careful with what we said around him. We gave him the space when he needed it, we didn’t push him when we knew he was lying about his feelings, but when Jesse and I shared a look the other night we knew we couldn’t tip toe around Noah anymore. 

“Fucking bullshit!” Noah slammed the fridge door shut; the condiments in the door rattling against each other. 

Jesse and I looked away from our card game at the kitchen table to see Noah slamming the kitchen cabinets now. 

“Love,” I said softly. “Is everything alright?” 

His eyes sliced into mine. “No, Y/N. I can’t find anything to eat in this fucking house.” 

Jesse stilled next to me, ready to be on the offense if he needed. Noah rarely cussed, especially at me. But I patted Jesse’s knee softly underneath the table, letting him know it was alright. 

This wasn’t Noah. We knew it. 

“I thought you went shopping earlier,” I said. 

Noah ran a hand through his hair. “No, it was your turn.” 

My brows peaked. “Noah, you told me this morning that you would go after your therapy session.” 

He didn’t utter a word, simply stuffed his hands in the pockets of his joggers before stomping up the stairs. 

“Did you skip your session again?!” I yelled after him only to be met with the slamming of our bedroom door. 

That night Jesse, Michael, and I all talked about how we would start helping Noah because we were hurting seeing him in such a dark place. Earlier tonight, Michael’s text gave me immediate fear which is why I cut my night early. 

Michael: He broke his guitar, Y/N. It’s in pieces in the studio. I don’t know what happened but there’s blood on the carpet.

Back in the solace of our bedroom, I gently lifted Noah’s left hand to finally get a look at the deep cut along the tattoos of his best friend's name. 

Keaton. 

Thankfully with the shower, the blood seemed to stop but not wanting to risk it, I led Noah over to our bed and made him sit on the edge. As I stepped away from him, ready to get the first aid kit, his arms yanked me back to him which caused my towel to drop to the floor. 

“Please don’t leave me,” he choked out. 

My fingers worked through the drying knots of his hair as I bent down to kiss his head. “I’m not going anywhere, love. I’m right here with you.” 

We stayed like that for quite some time, Noah sitting on the bed while I stood in front of him; his arms caccooning around me. At that moment, no one else in the world mattered, just Noah and I. Albeit our love might have felt at a standstill the last few weeks, we both didn’t need to fear anymore that the darkness would encompass us whole. We began to realize that in that darkness, flowers would bloom and we could grow. 

“What happened to your guitar?” I asked. 

Noah pressed a gentle kiss to the skin of my stomach and I shivered, body ignited with the contact. 

“I was working on a song for you and I couldn’t get it right,” he admitted with a disappointed sigh. 

He glanced up at me, resting his chin on my stomach as I peered down at him. The roughness of his fingers grazed over the growing heated skin of my back and I let the stress of wondering if he was alright ease away. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

I brushed back the hair from his face. “It’s alright, love. I’m glad I’m here though. Is there anything you need from me?” 

Another kiss to my heated skin; this time along the valley of my breasts. “Just you.”

“I should wrap your hand, in case it bleeds again,” I breathed when his warm lips continued to leave marks all over my skin. 

Noah hummed in response and then pulled me down to the bed with him so we could lay in a mess of locked and naked limbs together. I lay on my back as he buried his face in my neck yet again, breathing me in. The head of his cock brushed along the side of my thigh and I let out a hushed moan, desperately wanting to feel it slip between my folds; it had been so long. 

“Angel,” Noah grazed his fingers over my collar bone. “I crave to feel you again but my brain isn’t in the right headspace.” 

I lifted his chin to force him to look at me. “I won’t push you, Noah. I’m here for you whatever you need.” 

Oh so slowly, I saw the light behind the dark depths of his eyes begin to flicker. 

“Can I play that song for you?” He asked. 

My lips curled up into a smile. “You don’t even have to ask me, love.” 

With a kiss to my lips, one that I wasn’t eager to let go off, Noah slipped away from me to get dressed. 

“I still haven’t cleaned up the mess in the studio. Give me a few minutes?” He said after slipping on the house communal Chief hoodie. 

“Take your time. I’m going to get dressed.” 

While Noah was gone, I dressed in a pair of thin cotton panties and one of his shirts, his scent immediately filling my senses. I went about lighting a few incense sticks, the ones that always calmed Noah down and settled into bed when he stepped back inside. With the moonlight casted over his face, I could see more of that light return as soon as he smelled the incense. 

I patted the spot next to me. “Saved you a spot.” 

Noah practically bounced on the mattress next to me, my giggles echoing around the room. He sat across from me, letting the guitar rest along his lap as he stared intently at me. 

“What?” I shifted underneath the blanket. 

“I missed that laugh,” he blinked. “I’ll never fucking forgive myself for being the reason you stopped laughing like that.” 

My lips parted to speak but he shook his head, silencing me. “I haven’t been the best husband the last few weeks and I know no matter how many times I apologize, it won’t be enough to make up for how I treated you and the guys. It’s not fair to any of you.” 

I nodded as he continued. “Jesse mentioned that you’re worried about me going overseas for all those summer festivals.” 

It was true. 

Noah would be gone for weeks while I stayed back home for work and I couldn’t stop biting my nails with worry about how he would be. I knew everyone would take care of him but it did nothing to ease my own demons. 

“I just want to make sure you’ll be alright,” I bit my lip with nerves. 

Noah tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “I’m not going.” 

“Wh-what?” I stuttered. 

“I wanted to talk with you about it first. With the stress of the CJ OST release and everything the last two years, I need a mental break. I need time to rest and do the things we always talk about but never get to do,” Noah said. 

“So you’ll just cancel all the upcoming shows?” I asked, fingers grazing over the tattoos on his arm as he still cupped my cheek. 

“I’ll still play UPHEAVAL and INKARNATION but I don’t think I should go overseas. I need to get my mind right again. I need to get back into therapy and talk to someone about these feelings. I know I have you but-.” 

“Sometimes it’s better to talk to someone else,” I finished for him with a kiss to the inside of his palm. “Whatever you decide, Noah. I’ll support you. Although I do think this is a great idea.” 

Noah agreed and for the first time in a long while, the smile that I fell in love with slowly crept to his face. I was captivated by it that I nearly missed his thumb brush away a tear, suddenly avoiding eye contact with me. 

“I know the pain you hide behind the smile on your face,” I tapped his nose. 

He playfully rolled his eyes before adjusting the guitar on his lap, strumming a few random notes.. “Well, funny you mention Just Pretend.”

I pursed my lips with confusion. 

“Remember all those years ago when I told you there was a demo for it but I didn’t want you to hear it because I thought it wasn’t any good?”

The memory was clear as day in my mind. We’d just moved into this house with Michael and Jesse, two weeks after Noah and I had our secret wedding. We sat on the floor of this bedroom as he played for me Just Pretend; at the time what I thought was the original and only version. Besides the rest of the guys, I was the first one to hear the song in its entirety. 

“What about it?” 

Noah let out a long breath before the beautifully haunting melody of our song began to fill the empty space of air between us. 

“I'm so afraid that the walls that I have made have locked me in I'm not okay, but I can try my best to just pretend.”

Immediately I picked up on the change of lyrics; these ones cutting even more deep than the original. 

“So will you wait me out until I let you down? So will you wait me out until I let you down?”

I sucked in a breath when the words he cried into my shoulder earlier suddenly made sense. Unsure if he knew or not, Noah’s body began to sway with his music. 

“I can wait for you at the bottom. I can stay away if you want me to. I could wait for years if I gotta. Heaven knows I ain't getting over you.” 

Quickly, I glanced down to the tattoo on the inside of my forearm. 

Heaven knows I aint getting over you.

“I know the pain that you hide behind the smile on your face. And not a day goes by that I don’t wish it’d go away. So will you wait me out. Until I let you down? So will you wait me out. Until I let you down?”

I hastily wiped away the tears as they hung on my lashes, doing my best to not let the sobs overcome me. He sat criss crossed on the bed, the rose tattoo on his knee brushing against mine. 

“I can wait for you at the bottom. I can stay away if you want me to. I could wait for years if I gotta. Heaven knows I ain't getting over you.”

Noah’s eyes had been closed thus far but it was as if he needed to make sure I was still here, listening to him pour his heart out for me; like he did all those years ago. When our eyes met, I gave him a reassuring nod, urging him to continue.

“Can we try again when we’re not so different? Can we make amends? Why can’t we just pretend?” 

I couldn’t stop watching the way his fingers strummed against the strings of the guitar. The silver colors of the moonlight highlighted the sharpness of his cheek bones, down to his plump lips as they sang our song. 

“Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning. Way down, would you say I'm worthy? Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning. Way down, would you say I'm worthy?”

“Always, my love,” I breathed, pulling my knees to my chest.

The corners of Noah’s lips turned up. “I can wait for you at the bottom. I can stay away if you want me to. I could wait for years if I gotta. Heaven knows I ain't getting over you.”

Two years and a house full of love and laughter later, here Noah and I sat in the same position as he sang me his original demo for Just Pretend. My heart beat wildly in my chest, the noise roaring in my ears, as he finished out the song with a long, unsteady breath. 

“Can we try again when we’re not so different? Can we make amends? Why can’t we just. Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning. Way down, would you say I'm worthy? Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning. Way down, would you say I'm worthy?”

Once the guitar was set on the bed next to him, I climbed into Noah’s lap, immediately crashing my lips to his. It was a slow and lazy kiss, filled with the fire of our love that we spent years building and restoring after many dark moments. His tongue brushed along my bottom lip, capturing what was left of my peach chapstick, humming in delight. 

Breathless, I rested my forehead against his. “I fucking love you, Noah.” 

The same thumb that brushed away his tears earlier brushed away mine. “I love you too, angel. I promise I’ll become the husband you deserve again. Those demons are still there but your love keeps them at bay.” 

I pulled him down to bed with me, covering us both with the blanket as I held him from behind him. Noah would never admit it but he loved being the big spoon. It had been so long since we slept like this, always finding ourselves sleeping back to back.

“I’ll be here for you, Noah. Heaven knows I ain't getting over you,” a soft kiss to his sweater glad back. 

He linked our fingers together, bringing them to his lips. “We plan on releasing that version on the soundtrack but I wanted you to be the first one to hear it.” 

“Thank you,” I breathed in his scent. 

We found ourselves in a comfortable silence and let the tears we shed together dry against our skin. Neither of us were perfect but those demons would no longer cage Noah inside his mind. I’d walk through the flames of hell to protect him from them. Just as slumber sunk its claws into me, ready to drag me under, Noah’s soft voice roused me from sleep. 

“I dream in Hell and wake up screaming. Wishing that I was someone else. The static leaves me in a catatonic peace. I wanna finally sleep now.”

Swallowing the large lump in my throat, I raked my nails along the skin of his stomach underneath his sweater. 

“Sleep now, my love. I’m right here.”

[skyward-floored]

Whumptober Day 1: Race against the clock, panic attack

Hello everybody and welcome back to the fourth year in a row of me beating up nine blond guys (plus others) for a month, please enjoy the show 👍

Warnings: fire, smoke inhalation, minor injuries, and a panic attack.

Ao3 link

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He had maybe five minutes left.

Wild tore through the smoke and flames of the burning dungeon, squinting through eyes blurred with painful tears for any flashes of green or grey, a familiar pelt, dusty brown hair... anything.

All he saw were flames though, colored an unnatural reddish tone. Wild leapt to avoid some as they flared up, then stopped to hack through the cloth he’d tied over his mouth, throat burning from the smoke.

He was hating wizzrobes more by the second. He’d defeated the group of them that had swarmed him and Twilight, but they’d been black-blooded, and exploded into flames as they’d died. It was just unnatural the way their fire was eating at the rocks, melting pillars and devouring walls. How they’d set fire to an entire dungeon largely made of stone was beyond him.

And of course, all this had happened right after Twilight had been snatched by some weird hand-monster and disappeared.

Of course it had.

Now Wild had mere minutes left before the whole place collapsed or he passed out from smoke inhalation, and he had no clue where Twilight was.

“Rancher?!” Wild shouted in a rasp, then doubled over into a coughing fit again. The smoke even tasted unnatural, thicker than woodsmoke, and sweet, but in a sickly way.

Something cracked off in the distance, and the ground trembled beneath Wild’s feet. He dragged in not nearly deep enough of a breath, and kept running, occasionally squinting at the tattered map in his hands. There was only one area he hadn’t been in yet in his search. Twilight had to be there.

Wild leapt over a fallen pillar and entered the last room, squinting through smoke and heat. His eyes fell on a cage at the back wall, and he gasped, the figure inside unmoving.

“Twilight!” Wild shouted, then coughed, already working his way across the room.

Twilight didn’t say anything in reply to his voice, and Wild sped his steps, ignoring the rawness of his throat and the sting in his eyes. There were some of those blade trap things that had been in an earlier area of the dungeon in the way, but Wild deftly avoided them, even despite several being on fire.

He finally reached the cage, and dropped to his knees beside it, breathing hard.

“Twi,” Wild gasped, the words more of a cough than a greeting, “Twi, can you hear me?”

Twilight was huddled in the very back corner of the cage, his hands over his head. His eyes were squeezed shut, and he didn’t reply to Wild’s voice, staying curled up in a ball. Fear shook through Wild at the sight of Twilight so vulnerable, that something had happened to him, that he was hurt, that something was wrong—

“I’ll get you out,” Wild reassured in a voice he tried to make comforting, already feeling for any weakness in the bars. “Hold on.”

He located a portion of the cage where the metal was weakened, bars rusted and loose. Magnesis was hard to use when your hands were shaking, but after a few tries and some help from an old sword, Wild managed to tear the loose metal away, and bolt inside.

Twilight was breathing hard, his eyes open now and reflecting the flames, and Wild grabbed his wrists, giving him a quick shake.

“Rancher, hey, come on,” he croaked. Twilight’s glazed vision flicked to Wild’s face. “Link, wake up, I need you with me.”

Twilight still stared at him, eyes eerily blank, but then they focused, and he gasped, lurching backwards from Wild as he looked around in terror.

“No— no, what—”

“Link,” Wild repeated, heart pounding wildly. He inched closer to Twilight. “Don’t look at the flames, look at me. We need to get out of here.”

Twilight’s breathing sped up, his eyes reflecting the flames as he stared at them. Wild tried to catch his gaze but Twilight wasn’t paying any attention to him, pulling his hands away and digging his fingers into his scalp, breath wheezing as his chest heaved.

“Twi,” Wild begged, snatching his hands away from his hair. “Come on, I’m here to help you! We need to go!”

Wild gave his hands a tight squeeze, and Twilight flinched, blinking hard as his shoulders hitched up. His eyes darted around, and Wild got up in his face so it would be much harder for him to see the flames.

“Link, please, breathe,” Wild pleaded. “We’re not going to make it if we don’t go now!”

Twilight flinched again at the shout, then swallowed, his eyes suddenly fixing on Wild.

“W-Wild,” he said in a shaking voice, and Wild nodded, squeezing his hands. “Wild, what...”

“Wizzrobes, magic fire, you got snatched, I beat the wizzrobes but they set the place on fire,” Wild quickly explained, and swallowed as he looked over Twilight. “Did that hand thing hurt you? Are you okay?”

Twilight’s breath hitched. “No. Yes. I mean I... I think so?”

His gaze flicked to the flames again, and Wild felt a tremor go through him, panic in his expression. Wild let go of his hands and took his shoulders instead, giving him another shake.

“Twilight. You can’t freak out now, we have to get out of here,” Wild said firmly. His throat scratched as he spoke. “We...”

Wild fell into another coughing fit, breath tight, throat burning. It took him much longer to stop coughing than the last time, and getting in air was a lot harder, tears dripping from his eyes with the effort.

A hand clasped at his shoulder as he wheezed, and Wild glanced up to see Twilight looking at him. Twilight was still breathing fast, face pale, eyes wide, but his expression had slipped to an emotion Wild was more used to seeing on his face.

Worry.

“Are you okay?” Twilight asked, and Wild nodded, wheezing as his fit finally ended.

“Yeah... just... smoke,” he rasped, careful not to fall into another fit when he spoke. “Place is gonna... come down... need to go.”

Twilight looked out at the dungeon, flames roaring as they devoured the old temple, and he swallowed thickly. But when he looked back at Wild he nodded, and they both got to their feet, legs shaking for different reasons.

Twilight had an iron grip on Wild’s arm as they finally left the cage, and the two began to work their way back to the entrance.

It wasn’t easy. Everywhere Wild looked there were more of those reddish flames, purplish-pink at the center, plumes of sweet-yet-rancid smoke roiling through the air. A lot of the path he’d taken to get to Twilight in the first place just wasn’t there, and they had to pick their way around all kinds of rubble.

Everything seemed like it was on fire now, and sweat and tears poured in equal amounts down Wild’s face, eyes burning with smoke. They rushed back through the temple, dodging falling stone and roaring flames, Twilight shaking every time the fire got anywhere near them.

Wild glanced at him, the rancher’s grip on his arm nearly bruising, and swallowed.

Wild knew Twilight was wary around fire. He’d seen him stay back whenever Legend got out his fire rod, or Hyrule lit his sword up in flames, and generally fight fiery enemies from as far a distance as he could. He’d even teased him about it, and Twilight had shoved him and teased him right on back about being too willing to solve his problems with fire.

But this was more than wariness. This was straight-up terror at the sight of the flames, and Wild had never seen Twilight so blatantly afraid of something before.

What had happened to him?

A huge pillar came crashing down mere feet away from them, and Twilight and Wild scrambled back against the wall, heat pressing against their faces. Wild heard Twilight’s breath catch, and he tugged him in a different direction.

It was getting harder and harder to breathe, even with the cloth over his mouth. Wild’s steps faltered suddenly, and he stumbled against a part of the wall, breathing hard. They didn’t have time for him to stop, but he had to catch his breath, just for a moment.

“Wild? You good?” Twilight asked, voice raspy, but less so than Wild’s was.

Wild straightened, but before he could assure him that he was fine, a scratch in his throat made him cough, and before he knew it he was practically bent double, dry, wracking coughs pouring out of him.

Somehow he landed on the floor, and Twilight’s voice was frantic in his ear, a hand pressing at his back as it tried to help him.

Panic lurched in Wild’s middle, the lack of air only making his breath speed up. His world narrowed to the tightness in his lungs, the way they refused to take in as much air as he needed, and the dry feeling in his throat that made him want to cough with every breath.

The worst of it finally faded, but the fit had sapped most of Wild’s remaining energy. His head was spinning, throat dry as bone, and his breath was little more than desperate wheezes.

“Wild?”

Wild managed to raise his head and look at Twilight, the rancher‘s face pure alarm.

“Can you walk?” he asked, and Wild swallowed, trying to raise himself up on shaking legs. He got about halfway before a tremor shook the ground, and both he and Twilight lost their balance.

A portion of wall abruptly collapsed nearby, crashing to the ground mere feet from their boots. Flames burst into the air, and Twilight scrambled backwards, pressing one arm over Wild while the other covered his face from the sparks. Heat roared against them, and Wild felt it sear his uncovered skin.

More of the wall collapsed around them, and though Wild tried to scramble to his feet, his legs were like chu jelly when he put weight on them.

“Can’t...” Wild wheezed when Twilight looked at him, his chest too tight to explain further.

He couldn’t walk, not like this, not with his head spinning and vision darkening at the edges. The flames would overtake the structure any moment now, and he was slowing Twilight down.

“G-get out... Twi...” he managed to rasp.

“Not without you,” Twilight said firmly, and he looked at the flames, fear still reflecting in his eyes. He exhaled shakily, and then his face hardened with determination. “Come on Wild. We’re getting out of here.”

He clutched Wild’s arm, then pulled him to his feet, slinging Wild’s arm over his shoulders. Wild stumbled against him, but managed to keep his balance with Twilight’s firm grip.

Twilight began pulling him through the blaze, dodging flames and collapsing architecture, and Wild stumbled clumsily beside him. He was slowing them down, badly, but he didn’t have the breath to insist Twilight leave him.

We’re not going to make it! he wailed inwardly, but Twilight kept dragging him, hands shaking where they supported Wild.

Fire dripped from the wall beside them like a living thing, and Wild felt Twilight violently flinch from it. He just kept going though, even despite the spreading flames and nearly unbearable heat.

Wild found himself relying more and more on Twilight as they went, his legs refusing to behave. Despite how he tried to walk himself, most of his weight was soon being supported by the rancher.

Are we close? Wild thought blearily, fighting the urge to stop and cough violently into his arm. He’d lost the map, and anything that would have given away which room they were in was either in flames or actively falling to pieces.

“We’re almost out, we’re almost out, we’re almost out,” Twilight began to repeat under his breath, and Wild would’ve joined him if he’d had any breath to. “Please light spirits we’re almost out we’re almost out—”

An ominous crack rang through the dungeon, and Wild heard Twilight’s breath catch. His steps sped up even more, and Wild did his best to hurry along with him, breath wheezing, eyes teary from smoke and yet much too dry.

The walls melted and crumbled around them, the ceiling warping and groaning as flames ate away at it. A light different then the fire glinted in Wild’s fading vision, and Twilight let out a guttural cry as he ran towards it.

Flames roared, something crashed, and Twilight threw him and Wild out of the dungeon.

They tumbled down the stairs that had led to the door, and the structure collapsed into itself with a roar behind them, a blast of hot air sending them both to the ground. Wild might’ve passed out for a moment, but he honestly wasn’t sure.

A violent wheeze escaped him, his chest tight and aching, vision still darkened at the edges. He might’ve been shaking, but he couldn’t even tell he was so dizzy from the lack of air.

A hand pulled the cloth at his face down, then settled in his hair, and Wild blearily recognized it as Twilight’s, the other hero’s face streaked with ash.

“We made it,” Twilight croaked, and Wild coughed, trying to reply, but unable to get the words out. “We m-made it pup. Thank you.”

Wild pulled in a rasping breath, tears still dampening his cheeks, but he managed a weak smile. Twilight let out a short, panicked laugh, and curled around Wild where they were both lying in the grass. Despite how overheated he felt, Wild appreciated the contact.

He listened to Twilight’s heart hammer in his chest, the panic he’d been fighting away obviously breaking free. Twilight let out another panicked laugh, this one a fair bit more hysterical, and held Wild tight.

Wild clutched back as best as he could, and relief and exhaustion suddenly swept over him, intense and thick.

They’d made it.

Despite everything, they’d made it.

And Wild’s body took that as a sign that it was finally safe to pass out.