"I've Lived My Life With Blade And You Always In My Mind"

"I've lived my life with blade and you always in my mind"

ᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛꜱ

Synopsis: Having the infamous Vice-Captain of the Third Division of the Defense Force as your fiance isn't easy especially when the rest of the force expects you to be strong enough to be worthy to be by his side along with your family demanding you to finally get married and give them an heir. The continuous onslaught of expectations and demands from all sides keeps you up at night when you think about how you don't really have a good relationship with him. Or at least that's what you thought...

Pairing/s: Hoshina Soshiro x Fiancee!OC

Note/s: This is a series but I'll try making every part as oneshots so you can read them as is without being confused. I'll add the links once i'm done making the story ^_^

Trope/s: Arranged Marriage; Misunderstandings; Childhood Sweethearts; Hopeless Romantic; Hidden Power; School Romance; Soulmates; Love at First Sight; Workplace Romance

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Smut, Romance, Action

Warning/s: Insecurities, Anxiety, NSFW, Jealousy, Self Hurt

Masterlist

Original Character:

Uzui Kagami

The Uzui clan of ninjas has always been active in assisting the Hoshina clan from the shadows, with a only few of its members serving the Defence Force and the rest being assigned as bodyguards for important people. The Uzuis had been cultivating their personal blade style, however, only select individuals can manage to fully exhibit its potential, thus encouraging its family members to focus on their technical skills in weaponry.

Chapters:

A. Take everything, just not him (Angst)[Introduction][Published]

1. I love you (Fluff, Hurt/Comfort)[Published]

2. I'll show you how much you mean to me (Hurt/Comfort, Smut)[Published]

3. Now do you see just how much I care? (Fluff/Aftercare)[Published]

Side Story:

a. You will always have a special place in my heart (Fluff) [uploaded]

b. Jealousy, jealousy [uploaded]

c. We promised to take care of each other, didn't we? (Fluff)[uploaded]

d. I guess I'm just a friend to you, huh? (Narumi Gen)[uploaded]

e. Puppy Love (Fluff)[drafts]

f. Resisting Temptations (Mild Smut)[drafts]

g. I don't want to be just friends but... [drafts]

h. I am a jealous girl/boy [drafts]

Requests:

Do you want to be my wife that badly? (NSFW)[drafts]

I just know that I'm going to love this one 🥺🥺

Ghost of Love

Word count: 3600+

Warnings: mentions of blood, body remains; reader is from Hewn city (I believe that says enough about what to expect here)

Note: I'm posting this just because I'm curious if there would be anyone interested in this story. There won't be next chapter any time soon, not until the rest of Heal me is up. Hopefully I won't need to pretend it's oneshot😮‍💨

Declaration: I hate dancing and have zero knowledge about it, so excuse the lack of description or any vagueness in that part. I tried to look things up, I swear, but the unstoppable rolling of my eyes made it hard to focus🤷

Dividers by amazing @tsunami-of-tears

Part II

A male slowly stepped out of the darkness, the pale face lifted up. His amber eyes found yours, gazing straight into them with hate, all-consuming fire blazing in his irises. His unbounded long red hair flew around him, dancing in the air as flames. He was scary but handsome. Then his mouth twisted into a sadistic grin came in focus and you cried out in fear. His white teeth were covered in blood, streams of it running down his chin, dripping on the front of his shirt.

Blood was dripping even from his long fingers with sharp nails of predator. Down at his feet lay remains of a body, pile of flesh and broken bones, burned so badly that nobody could recognize the person whom it belonged to.

His grin widened and he suddenly dashed forward towards you, his hand reaching for your throat.

You jolted up in dimly lit carriage, cold sweat covering your body. Thankfully, you were all alone and nobody saw you or heard you. This nightmare haunted you almost every time you closed your eyes ever since you were told that you would marry a new High Lord of Autumn Court.

You were born and raised in Hewn city, the cruellest place known to fae world where it was lucky to be born as a male. Unfortunately, you were a female which meant that you were a toy in hands of your father who was just as brutal as that whole place.

You'd spent most of your life in your room without windows, allowed to come out only when you were called or needed. You'd never seen a daylight until this day. Growing up you were often punished whether you did something wrong or not, because you were just a weak female, a possession that could be sold if the offer was high enough. That's how you ended up betrothed to the Heir of Autumn Court on the first place.

You didn't know why you were chosen. You had never spoken with him nor met him in person. You saw him only from afar when he came to Hewn city to negotiate with Keir and later at a ball organized by your High Lord where he danced with one of the High Lady's sisters. It was quite an interesting show and he seemed to be smitten by her.

You watched that all from your dark alcove where you were exposed for the chosen ones but otherwise hidden from prying eyes of others. You weren't allowed to participate directly. You weren't even allowed to talk with other guests. The ball was a market and you were the goods.

However, the horrific rumours about the Heir got to your ears nevertheless. You heard all stories about his cruelty and punishments that he loved to deliver, and later even the stories about how he killed his father and became a High Lord. None of them was a good one, but he wasn't judged here. In Hewn city, he was admired for his rigour. Every male wanted to be like him, every female either feared she would catch his eye or longed for that.

You, for sure, didn't belong to the second group. You didn't want to get married at all. All you dreamt about, was freedom, the possibility to go and do whatever you wanted, but that was out of question for you. You were just a puppet that danced only when a male pulled the strings. Now you were a property of your father who had planned to sell you for the highest offer from the day you were born, and soon enough you would became a property of your husband. You were nothing, you didn't count.

You were aware of the offers that piled on your father's desk. They started coming when you turned 15, but your father had waited. You didn't know what he did or who he spoke to, when suddenly a marriage proposal came from Autumn Court soon after your 18th birthdays. He didn't hesitate this time and immediately accepted. He couldn't get any higher offer than from the future High Lord himself, could he.

If you thought your life was a torture before, after that it became a hell. Whole year you spent learning all kinds of manners that wife of male with such high position had to know. They taught you what your place in the court and in the private would be, what you had to do to keep it, they beat it into you, breaking you again and again until there were no errors and you were perfectly submissive.

You also had to become an outstanding dancer because your future husband seemed to have a special interest in dance. Even now your toes were still bleeding into your shoes as your last lesson ended right before the departure.

In every aspect you had to be perfect and worthy of High Lord of Autumn. Lady of Autumn Court, your future husband's mother, was given to you as a model of such a perfect wife. Quiet, obedient, representative, beautiful.

Perfect doll to be ruined by her husband when no one was looking.

You feared the future but you had no choice.

You slightly moved the curtain to look out and see the bits of the country behind the window. Because of the nap you lost track of time. Your heart squeezed in dread when you found out you were already in a forest full of red and yellow and golden brown leaves. You had never seen an autumn foliage with your own eyes, but even you with your limited knowledge knew that these were colours of Autumn. You were getting closer to your final ordeal.

It took another hour or two and carriage stopped. Before you could reach for the doorknob, the door flew open and your father's always angry face came to view.

"Get out now," he ordered. He seemed to be in quite a good mood today.

You immediately moved closer to the door and get off. Your heels clicked on the sandstone in the courtyard of a beautiful castle, but you had no time to look around as father shoved you to the entrance. Bowing your head, you submitted.

At the gate you were welcomed by High Lord's advisor, a male with rather a cool demeanour, and some maids who took you to the chamber where you were supposed to get ready and wait until the ceremony began. You didn't bother to even try to lift your gaze, you were too scared to look at people directly. Whenever you dared to look at someone, most of them had no face in your eyes, only an empty mask. You distinguished people mainly by their voices.

You felt your father staring after you coldly as you silently followed the maids, his gaze felt like a sharp knife poking into your back. You were scared he would follow you because you were his priced ticket to wealth now, but soon he turned around and walked away with the advisor in the opposite direction.

Maids were quiet and quick as they helped you to bath and dress. They skilfully braided your long hair into a complicated hairstyle, attached the veil to it, letting it fall down and cover your face. When they were done, with a slight bow they left.

You let out a breath that you didn't even know you'd been holding the entire time they were hopping around you. Nobody bothered to inform you how much time you had left, but it didn't matter anyway. You couldn't run away from your fate.

You were sitting at the vanity table where they left you, looking at the ground as you were taught, your mind empty. You couldn't even mourn the life that you never had and never would have. They successfully turned you into a puppet, a blank canvas ready for your husband to paint on.

Soft knock sounded on the doors and a female's voice called that it's time. You slowly stood up with bowed head and stepped out from the chamber. Small maid led you through corridors and halls to a chapel.

You'd like to look around, wanting to see at least something of your wedding day worth of memorising it, but your father was already waiting for you, angrily tapping his foot.

"Good for nothing as usual," he grunted. "How long do you think we have to wait for you?"

"I'm sorry, father," you said in a small voice.

"Speak properly! You are like your mother, useless. Thankfully from now on, you will be your husband's burden."

He offered you an arm and you immediately took it not wanting to make him any more angry. Together you got ready at the threshold and as music started to play you stepped inside.

The chapel seemed to be quite spacious, full of warm light and crowded with guests. As you walked to the altar you caught glimpses of gold, yellow and white decorations. Your father halted, a pair of shiny black boots stepped closer. Out of the corner of your eye you saw that your father was smiling kindly. You were shocked. It was the first time you saw such expression on his cruel face.

Your father said something to that male and he answered. Your heart was beating so fast and loudly that you hardly heard the music. Father took your hand and offered it to the male who surprisingly gently accepted it. Fingers that wrapped around yours were pale and long just as in that nightmare, but instead of icy cold you felt warmth seeping into your skin. Your father stepped away, leaving you with this male. The transaction was apparently successful.

"Can we?"

A deep voice spoke lowly, snapping you out of the new kind of darkness that began to pull you into its void. You inhaled sharply. It wasn't that deadly voice that haunted you in sleep but a quite pleasant, rich one that felt like a warm blanket, a liquid honey flowing into your ears that were used to only harsh words. Rich aroma of spicy cinnamon and apples roasted on fire filled your nose.

You nodded, still not daring to look up. He led you to the altar where a priestess was waiting for you. As you stood before her, he turned to you one more time. His fingers touched the edge of the veil, lifting it up. You kept your eyes down as you were taught.

"Look at me," he commanded softly.

Carefully, inch by inch you raised your eyes, taking in first his trousers in cream colour, then his elegant tailored moss jacket with gold details that hugged his chest perfectly. He didn't look like a mass of muscles as the general of Night Court did even though before he had the same rank. Your soon-to-be husband seemed to be rather lean, but definitely a warrior with muscles on right places. And so tall, impossibly tall, that you hardly reached up to his shoulders.

It felt like forever until your gaze finally reached his face. Like in the nightmares it was pale with bright amber eyes and high cheekbones, his nose was straight and lips full. He wasn't smiling, yet corners of his mouth seemed to be twisted in a permanent smirk. In golden rays of sun penetrating through a round window behind the altar, his red hair had a warm shade, and looked so silky that you had to wonder how it would feel to touch them. Now cut much shorter than the last time you saw him, he just casually combed them back, a few unruly strands falling on his forehead.

His eyes roamed over your face, brows lightly furrowed, then one corner of his lips lifted in a half smile. He was handsome, attractive, there was no doubt about it. You expected him to have the cool, cruel aura you noticed before and he didn't disappoint, but as you were watching him for a while, in his eyes there was something you'd never seen before. Perhaps it was kindness, but what did you know. It was just a foreign word to you, something you never experienced.

It was confusing.

He didn't say if he liked what he saw, his expression gave nothing away. He just turned to priestess, signalling her with a nod of the head to begin the ceremony. You allowed your eyes to linger and watch his profile a little longer before your gaze again slid down to the floor. Hardly perceiving priestess's words, you returned to that quiet place in your mind where you felt safe from the world.

When the ceremony was over, Eris leaned down, gazing at you. This was the part when the groom should kiss the bride. You stayed still, expecting him to move, but he was just waiting. You looked up with silent question in eyes. As soon as your full attention was on him, he moved forward and his lips sealed over yours in a tender kiss. Your eyes widened in surprise, breath caught in your throat. You expected anything from him except of this. He didn't close his eyes either, closely watching your reaction.

Eris tasted like honey and some alcohol. It was a strange combination, but not unpleasant. His lips slightly moved against yours, testing the waters and then it was over.

As if nothing had happened he straightened up and turned to the crowd, offering you an arm. You exhaled shakily, internally shouting at your body to move. You couldn't keep him waiting. Your fingers gripped on his sleeve. Still weak in your knees you could only wish that you wouldn't fall down.

His other hand went up to yours on his arm, adjusting it. Holding it firmly he tugged you closer and led you to the ballroom where the party would take a place.

Why did he behave like this? Did he genuinely care? Or did he notice your state and wanted to just prevent an embarrassing incident? He was supposed to be cruel. Everyone said that about him. Was it just some kind of masquerade and later he would make you pay for your mistakes? You were so confused and nervous.

The celebration program was simple. The ceremony was to be followed by a banquet and finally a party. When you came into the impressive ballroom decorated in the same colours as the chapel, the tables were already bending under the amount of deliciously looking food.

Eris led you to the table in the centre, a bit higher than the rest. He held a chair for you and then took a seat on your right. The other chairs were gradually filled as the guests were coming. Your father was seated at the table on your left, giving you a cold stare. Shiver ran down your spine and your heart started to beat faster. You knew that face. Whatever you had done he was very displeased right now.

Your husband inconspicuously leaned closer.

"Is everything alright?" he asked lowly, eyeing still coming guests. Did he hear your heartbeat even over this noise?

"Of course, my lord," you blushed, focusing on your hands folded on your skirt under the table.

Eris' eyes narrowed on you and then his gaze moved behind you to your father. He immediately stopped frowning at you and instead he conjured a pleasant smile at his new son-in-law. Eris made a small displeased noise and looked away.

When everyone took their seats Eris stood up to give a short speech and a toast. You took a goblet with wine but didn't drink. Could not. You weren't allowed to drink alcohol.

After your husband a dark haired male stood up to toast to newly wed couple. As he spoke you recognized the voice of your High Lord.

Nervously you swallowed.

It was unexpected, but not incomprehensible. Of course he was here. A member of his Court married his ally. This wedding was an important political event. There were certainly also other allied High Lords between the guests. The most powerful beings of this country had eyes on you. And your husband? He was one of them. Not an ordinary High Fae or some aristocrat. A High Lord.

Sudden realisation hit you hard and you felt a growing nausea, heart throbbing in your throat.

When everyone was done toasting, silent servants appeared seemingly from nowhere and started to serve the food to the plates. Not remembering when you had eaten for the last time was your last concern. You were too nervous and frightened to even think about the food right now.

Eris seemed to notice that you were just poking the vegetables with a fork around the plate, pretending you were eating as everyone around.

"Isn't the meal to your taste?" he asked with raised brows quietly.

Under the table you clenched fingers into the skirt of your dress. This male could turn you into a pile of ash if he wanted.

"Everything is delicious, my lord," swallowing hard you answered in a small shaky voice.

He just huffed and after a while returned to his plate and the conversation he had before. You bit on your lower lip. Did you offend him? Would he punish you later? You were on the verge of crying. From the other side of the table you could feel your father's angry gaze. Breathing raggedly you willed the tears back and put down the fork. Your trembling hand reached for a glass of water. Focussing on not spilling it's content, you brought it to your red painted lips and took a sip. You needed to pull yourself together, to overcome it. The show wasn't over yet.

By the time the clattering of cutlery has died down, you managed to calm down a bit. Music that played whole the time, got louder and some of the guests moved to the parquet.

Eris turned to you once again, his eyes lingering on your face. He seemed to think about something. For a brief moment his lips pursed into a thin line.

"We have to dance the first dance. It's a tradition," he spoke coldly.

"Yes, my lord."

You already knew that and you were more than ready even though your healing toes still hurt. This wouldn't be the first time you had to suppress the pain and pretend everything was okay. You could do this.

Despite the too high expectations of your teachers and father, you loved dance. It was the only quite funny activity you were ever allowed to do.

High Lord helped you to stand up and led you to the centre of the parquet. The guests created a circle around you.

Eris' warm hand heavily landed on your waist, holding you firmly, his fingers leaving marks on your skin through the corset. The sudden roughness surprised you and you slightly winced. Thankfully nobody seemed to notice it, not even your husband. Taking your other hand into his, you two took a position and started to move at the exactly same time to the rhythm of the song in a small circles. Eyes pinned to his strong chest right in front of you, you performed your best.

You moved gracefully as you were taught, small sparks in your veins slowly becoming a fire, consuming you. After the first rather stiff steps, your body relaxed and you blended in with the melody, becoming the music. The long skirt of your dress was sweeping the floor with every your step, looking like a flowing mountain stream. You loved that feeling. Eris spun you and you made a perfect pirouette so fast that you whirled two times. Someone in the watching crowd gasped in amazement, several others applauded.

If you dared to look up, you would see the fire in your husband's eyes and a wide smile. He was enjoying this, too, more than he was willing to admit.

The two of you started dancing in bigger and bigger circles, your every move faster than the last one. The crowd around had turned into a blurry smudge, but none of you minded. Eris decided to test you by changing the steps and adding figures, and you responded to every change with ease, without a mistake.

As the song was coming to its end, your husband decided to end the dance with a pretty deep dip. Your back arched under his fingers and suddenly you came face to face with him, your noses almost touching. Your eyes widened in surprise.

Two blazing amber eyes were piercing you with genuine interest, wolfish grin on his lips. His usual merciless expression was replaced by something wild, beautiful and kind of dangerous. He was mesmerising. You were definitely playing with a fire when you reached up, tips of your fingers lightly touching his jaw. Eris blinked and it was gone.

He straightened up and you followed, once again scared that you possibly made a fatal error when you touched his face.

Now all the guests were applauding. Looking around his cold gaze jumped from face to face. He didn't say anything as he bowed to you, kissing the back of your hand and then escorted you back to the table. Both of you were still heaving as you took your seats. He grabbed your glass of water and handed it to you. You thanked him to which he just responded with a nod. Then he took his empty goblet and held it out for the servant to fill it with wine. He drummed with fingers as he waited. As soon as the servant stepped back, he emptied the goblet again.

The musicians started to play another song and parquet filled with dancing pairs. When it seemed that nobody paid you attention any longer, without even looking in your direction Eris reached out under tha table, his fingers lightly brushing your arm from elbow down to your wrist. Finding your hand rested on your lap, he clasped it in his much bigger one and held it for the rest of the evening.

---

Any Weight - Idia

Author Notes: So I really didn't know what I was going to post today in terms of oneshots, so this happened. This fic has been sitting my google docs for quite while and honestly started out life as practice for writing Idia. I wrote this and edite it while listening to the song "Heavy in Your Arms" by Florence in the Machine. As per usual, reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ sfw/ fluff with angst/ comfort/ romance highly implied/ Spoilers for Ignihyde Chapter

Word Count: 1539

Idia shifted slightly as you leaned against his back, reading some book as he farmed one of his games. And in easy, quiet moments like this, with the weight of your body resting gently against his, feeling like a silent but ever-present promise, it was easy to forget the truth of his situation. Of his life.

But Idia was cursed. It was a weighty, but simple truth that had hung over his head for his entire life. Because he’d never known a life where he wasn’t cursed.

Idia was cursed to remain chained to the Island of Woe, to S.T.Y.X., and to guard the remains of those who’d fallen prey to their own magic and dark thoughts, just like he almost had back when you’d come all the way to S.T.Y.X.’s headquarters after Grim and your friends.

Idia was also cursed to never be able to feel darkness’s embrace, which could hide even the greatest of shames, until the light inevitably came. Because his hair always shone that cold blue light on him. Never letting him hide away from the gaze of all those who looked upon him in horror or disgust and saw all of his many flaws.

Idia was even cursed by his own personality. Unable to tolerate being around others without shutting down and drowning in their silent gazes. Judgmental, fearful, and sometimes pitying, no matter how he felt about it.

It was disgusting, infuriating, and so many other things that left him filled with ire towards anyone and everyone who didn’t understand him or his life. If they were going to gawk at him, then he would mock them for their naive, stupid views, and avoid them. There was no use in bothering with people who would never care.

After all, his life had been decided for him from the very moment he’d been born.

And all of those reasons, as well as so many others, were why he’d pushed you away initially. A laughable thought now, considering you were sitting on his bed, with your back pressed to his in a gentle reminder of your presence that, rather than causing him to tense like so many did, made him relax into the silence that rested easily between the two of you.

But when he’d first met you, he never would have imagined this. Not with how you’d seemed so strange. 

A weirdo, to be sure, with the way your gaze had never held that crushing weight that threatened to smother him that so many others had.

Some person from another world who apparently had far greater concerns than a flame-haired freak that lived in some other dorm. And, to an extent, Idia had been able to respect that.

It had quickly become obvious that you were more than just a weirdo, though. If nothing else, you were capable of handling and surviving numerous overblots. And even as he was getting to know you, it had already been clear to Idia that you were capable of so much more than him.

And that was still clear to him even today. Because if he was a curse, then you were more akin to a blessing.

A blessing who stepped in and stopped overblots from destroying their victims rather than studying the remains of those who were already done for.

A blessing who could see people at their very worst, and still accept them.

And finally, you were a blessing in that you had a personality that was like a balm to introverts. A person he could just be himself around without having to be surrounded by the multitude of people who’d already noticed your calming demeanor.

In reality, Idia knew you weren’t a blessing. Something so good could never survive in a school like this one. And he’d experienced firsthand exactly how much of a pest you could be.

But even with that knowledge, there were still moments when you were like a protagonist with the way you stood out so glaringly from the crowd.

Of course, Idia stood out from the crowd as well, but never in a remotely good way. 

At odds with this, your only supposedly negative quality was that you lacked magic. And while it did make your life a pain sometimes, you never let it bother you. Not like how Idia let his negative qualities and anything he lacked burden him.

And it was a heavy burden. A heavy burden that Idia knew made him equally heavy and unpleasant to be around. Because Idia was no fool. He knew his presence, his friendship, and even his very existence was a weighty one. He could easily drag a person down to their doom with the curses that trailed after him, like an entourage that couldn’t and wouldn’t go unnoticed.

And all of those reasons, plus a myriad of others, were why your presence here, with him, right now ought to be strange. But it wasn’t. In fact, it was perfectly normal for you to hang out with him in the solace of his room. Sometimes gaming with him, and sometimes just doing your own thing in silent companionship.

The selfish part of him clung to both you and your presence even as he continued to face his game in silence. 

Were he just a bit bolder, it would be easy to imagine himself turning to face you and wrapping his arms around your neck, with his fingers curling around your temple as if they could crown you as he cradled you to him.

But what could he ever crown you with other than the knowledge that you deserved far better?

It was his way of betraying you, and he knew that. His betrayal was one of the reasons he never tried to cross the dotted line that strained to keep you and him from growing any closer. Similarly, it was the reason the silence remained between the two of you as Idia pondered all of the oddities that were your relationship with him.

Because you supported him. Embracing him in your arms like he was weightless, rather than the way he knew he had to be a chain tangling itself around your ankles, threatening to trip you up and drag you down.

But you didn’t let him sink, and you didn't get pulled down by him. 

It was like you were a hero in some tropey anime. Willing to plunge into the very deepest of sorrows and pull him out. Never fearing the chances of drowning in the deep darkness of his curses, but also not shunning the light that revealed all. Good and bad.

Or if you did fear it, you didn’t let that fear hold you back. And perhaps that thought was even more alarming. Because that meant you cared about him enough to not let fear hold you back.

Either way, you seemed to just accept both his good and bad traits. Taking it all on with a smile not unlike the one you’d worn when you’d first forced your way into his life.

You’d shrugged off his moody words and met his gaze with your smiling one, “Nobody’s perfect, and it’s not like you’re the only guy at NRC who has overblotted or has caused me problems.”

You were definitely still a strange one, but Idia could no longer view that strangeness as bad. How could he when you could somehow look at the chains that surrounded him, binding him to his curses and doing their best to condemn him and those he chose to tie himself to, and smile in the face of it all? 

But as frustrating as your strange but oddly charming weirdness was, it made him want to do better.

To support you just like how you supported him. To let you know that even in this world that was not your own, you weren’t alone.

If you could willingly walk into that never-ending light that constantly showed his every weakness to the entire, unforgiving, and uncaring world, then he would hide you in the darkness and carry you when it hurt too much.

Because he knew it hurt, even if you hid it well with that smile that only seemed to truly fail you when you were facing an overblot or when the mention of your home came up.

Even if you were strong enough to carry him and all his curses, Idia knew it hurt and that the nights were long for you. 

In fact, it was obvious to him.

Because that weight you carried was why, even after having made friends and forged yourself a family, you still sought your own world. And he recognized that weight’s presence. How could he not when he was all too familiar with carrying a burden all his own?

But you would never be too heavy for him. Not when he was used to carrying the weight of his own curses.

He could carry you, and you would never drag him down. In fact, he doubted your feet would ever even touch the ground. Because, just like how the weight of you leaning against him was more of a comfort than a burden, he knew that, if it was you, he could carry any weight.

---

𝐈 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 (𝐈𝐈𝐈)

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"A lonely moon craving for the radiant sun." In which a certain girl catches the attention of a prideful billionaire playboy as they both attempt to find their way in the world. (I haven't seen many fics explore Bruce in his formative years, so I thought I'd share my take on them, of course with romance.)

wc: 3249

She’d heard something before she fell asleep, but she couldn’t decipher the words. y/n knew it was something important, but for the life of her, she couldn’t remember what. Contemplation tired her mind enough to grant her sleep for a few minutes before the tension in the air awoke her. Peeking from her closed eyelids so as to not alert the boys near her, y/n saw how Harvey occasionally threw a pointed glare at a stoic Bruce. The two had initially remained quiet, but it seemed they were itching for a fight. 

After a small glance at the uneasy scene, she attempted to rest again, but just as she had begun to return to her slumber, a voice began, “What’s your problem?”

Though she kept her lids shut now, y/n could tell that the sound originated from the back where Bruce sat. She had to stop from rolling her eyes, as she realized he was quoting her exact words from earlier. Typical rich kids, always taking. 

Harvey, pounced at the chance to squabble as he replied, “You.”

“I need you to elaborate there, buddy. Lots of people have a problem with me for lots of reasons.”

“Buddy?” Harvey let out a bittersweet chuckle, his voice laced with a hint of disgust at the nickname. “Do you even remember who I am?”

“Harvey Dent, son of Harvey Dent Senior. You’re dad’s a politician and you wanna follow in his footsteps. Now, your turn.” Bruce spoke robotically, attempting to reciprocate Harvey’s attitude.

“You really don’t remember, huh? Should’ve guessed.”

Bruce, annoyed by Harvey’s ambiguous answers, remained mum the rest of the ride, occasionally letting out a deep sigh like an angry toddler. y/n was glad that Bruce had a taste of his own medicine, but her curiosity was also awakened by the cryptic responses Harvey had stated. She thought that this was Harvey’s way of finally opening up, giving her the green light to explore his truths after years of distance. 

When the car stopped at the gates of the Wayne manor, Bruce immediately rose to attention and swiftly exited the vehicle, as if staying any longer would have killed him. He ran through the slow-opening gates, disappearing in the fog-ridden entrance before y/n heard the engine rev to a start. 

Slowly she opened her eyes, basking in the peace she found with Harvey’s presence before revealing, “I heard everything.”

Harvey stayed silent, his eyes remaining secured to the dimly lit road ahead of him. y/n moved to place a hand on his thigh, gently so as to not startle him. She let her fingers lay there, in a comforting manner before assuring, “I know you’ve got some pent-up frustration right now, and I just want you to know, I’m here if you want to talk.” She could feel him relax under her touch, the words soothing the wounds that had re-opened previously. “I’m always here.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Gotham was never quiet. The sirens always rang, especially in the dead of night. The people always shout whether it be to scream for help or bark a demand. The rain always pattered against windows, leaving the outside world to be a blurry distortion of reality. y/n found the noise to be comforting most nights because it made her feel less lonely, and it ensured that the trouble would stay where it was meant to be: outside. But now her heart beat louder than the ambiance of Gotham, louder than any concert. It beat her chest so hard that her ears ached at the sound. She tossed and turned, holding a pillow to her ears in an attempt to shut everything out, but silence was impossible to attain. 

She was angry because reality had hit her like a speeding bullet for the first time in a long time. She’d done so much, sacrificed her time, her health, and her whole being to be accepted into Gotham Academy. It was the first step in her naive grand plan to be happy. But fate is anything but kind, for however much she works, she’s destined to fall. Falcone would be the sun that burns her wax wings, or maybe it was Wilcox, the man who had set her down this perverted path. But no matter who she sought to accuse for an inevitable early death, like Icarus she had only herself to blame for wanting to reach higher than she was meant to. Her anger culminated in prickling tears rolling down her cheek uncontrollably. Her eyes red & puffy, cheeks drenched with salty water, and throat hoarse from catching her breath, y/n fell asleep, knocked unconscious by the sheer exhaustion of her overwhelmed state. 

The next morning, y/n awoke with a freshness. The tears had washed away her despondency, leaving room for a lingering courage to resurface. When dawn had struck, faint slivers of light breaking through the cloudy skies, she was already up and about. Pacing back and forth in her dorm, y/n concocted a plan of action to resolve her predicament. She would talk to Wilcox, say that their relationship had gone much farther than she was willing to go and that he needed to move forward without her. She could report him to GCPD. It wasn’t like every cop there was on someone’s payroll, there had to be someone there to help her. 

But if she reported him, he had to have known she’d go down as his accomplice. He’s got a pricey lawyer to get him out unscathed, but her? She’s got nobody to fight for her. Yet, maybe Wilcox continued pressuring her because he knew she wouldn’t stand up. It couldn’t hurt to push back, after all, nothing could have been worse than dying because of Carmine Falcone. 

After an hour of going back and forth with the myriad of ways the conversation could go, y/n never expected for Wilcox to be this vile. She made her way down to his office as soon as her mind had calmed and walked through the open doors as soon as she arrived. He was expecting her, for before her heel even landed inside the room, the man exclaimed, “y/n! How have you been?”

When y/n entered the room completely, she apprehensively muttered, “Fine.” She kept her head down, fear beginning to creep up her spine at his uncanny attitude. Never had he been this nice to her.

“Well, got what I need?”

y/n moved forward quickly, placing the wad of cash she had found the day before in front of him. His resting face morphed into a sinister smile as he brushed a hand through the notes. Looking up as he played with the bundle of money, he raised an eyebrow.

y/n’s mouth was slightly agape at the sight. She mustered the courage she had earlier in the morning, resolute in seeing through with her plan as she began, “I won’t do this anymore. I don’t know what you’ve got yourself involved with and frankly, I don’t care. I won’t ruin myself by continuing to be involved.”

“Ah…you think you’ve got a choice in the matter?” He rose from his seat, his chair screeching against the polished wooden floor as it jerked backward. Hands now placed flat against the mahogany of his desk, he bore his eyes into y/n. “You’re in more of a desperate situation than you think. I’m assuming you got the address, yes? Well, Carmine wants blood and it won’t be mine. Seeing as you’re a scholarship kid, it wouldn’t be hard to justify anything that might happen to you–”

“–I’ve got friends. What makes you think that I can’t just tell Carmine it was you?”

“Bold, I’ll give you that,” Wilcox moved around his desk and strode toward the girl dropping the smile. Face to face, he leaned down to her ear whispering, “I’ve got friends too. Friends who can take away that Harvard scholarship. Friends who can make sure you can’t escape Gotham. Friends who can make your life beyond the Academy a living hell. You’ve got no idea what you’re up against little girl.”

He stepped away, re-plastering the smile on his face, and opened the door motioning for y/n to step out. As she turned to leave y/n took a shaky breath and stopped at the exit before saying, “I won’t back down without a fight.”

She rushed out of the room, walking down the administrative building hallway with no awareness of her surroundings. She never expected the interaction to have been easy, but for it to end in this war was too much for her to handle. Who was she kidding, she didn’t have anything to fight the dean with. No dirt, no power, no advantage, nothing but a death sentence. 

As she rounded a corner, she collided with a hard surface. She stumbled backward, holding her head in her hands as a migraine developed. With a hand placed on her throbbing head, she attempted to center herself and realized she had bumped into Bruce.

“You ok?” Bruce seemed genuinely concerned as he inquired. His hand stretched toward her, brushing over her head before y/n took another step back.

“Yeah. I’m sorry.” Her voice was weaker than it had been before. Bruce noticed how she had sunk into herself, her eyes bloodshot and her cheeks flushed. Her breaths were fairly shaky as she retreated from him. There was no point beating around the bush. Whatever he wanted to say, he needed to say it now.

“I have a proposition.” He paused for a moment, waiting for confirmation to continue. When y/n stared at him, waiting for more, he continued, “I think we’ve both bitten off more than we can chew. Some bad things are about to happen and I want to stop it. But, I can’t do it alone. I–uh” He hesitated for a moment before begrudgingly declaring, “I need your help.”

“Care to elaborate? Mr. I’m Above Everything and Everyone wants to play hero? What’s really in it for you and why do you want my help?” She waited for Bruce to respond, yet he remained silent. “Ok. I’m not risking my life for you. I’m not stupid. If you want a scapegoat, ask one of your many admirers.” 

She was about to stomp off, beyond pissed that people only viewed her as a tool. Bruce, mindful of the apparent anger brewing within y/n, grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to face him. “I can save you from Falcone if you do this for me. Better yet, I can make sure you’re untouched by everyone in this city.”

Had he heard her conversation with Wilcox? Questions swirled in her already preoccupied mind, but y/n brushed them off. It didn’t matter how much he knew, what mattered was the tempting offer he just proposed. This was her way out, a solution for all her hardship. To have no anchors holding her down opened a world of possibility, but an offer like that was too true for her to believe. He wouldn’t hand over such power without a price equally as revolting. She needed to know she could trust him to follow through before she signed her life away to the devil.

“How do I know you won’t leave me high and dry? I do your dirty work and take the fall while you reap the glory.”

“You don’t.” Great, just the answer she needed. He really played the role of an asshole quite passionately. 

Rolling her eyes, she shook his hands off her wrist and marched toward the library for some peace. She texted Harvey on the way, hoping to make up for ditching him yesterday by meeting with him. It was routine at this point, for her to randomly disappear at a moment’s notice and make up for it later. y/n knew that Harvey was suspicious of it, but being him, he never openly questioned her. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey, missed me?” y/n greeted Harvey as she approached him from behind. He chuckled as he turned to watch her approach him. He gestured to the empty seat beside him, even dragging out the chair with one arm. He beamed with excitement at how gracefully she sat down, forgetting the homework he was engaged in to simply admire her. He could smell her perfume, relishing in its sweet and savory scent. But, he could also smell a hint of antiseptic. He was about to brush it off before his eyes trailed to the hand that was not resting on the table. y/n had a bandage wrapped around her wrist. 

“Not like it's your first time bailing on me, but regardless, I did,” Harvey replied. Before y/n had an opportunity to speak again, he pointed at the bandage asking, “What happened?”

y/n was at a loss for words. She didn’t want Harvey to be involved in this ever-deepening abyss of troubles, so she had to come up with a white lie. Fast. “Uh..y’know how clumsy I can be. I–I fell on it.”

Harvey raised an eyebrow, having known the girl long and well enough that she was lying. Though, seeing her sullen state he kept suppressed his urge to know the truth. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t lied to her either. She’d tell him whenever she was ready, till then, he was willing to wait. 

“So, you’re probably wondering about last night.” Harvey nodded. “Well, I went into the city. This time, I got lost, and by the time I realized I didn’t know where I was going, the sun had already gone down. Somehow Bruce found me and we ended up waiting at the bridge for a ride.” It was just vague enough to not reveal what y/n had actually been doing there, but just informative enough to not have Harvey need to question her. The perfect cover. 

“Uh-huh.” Harvey held his tongue. y/n looked visibly tired and he didn’t have the heart to push her any further, no matter how suspicious she was being. 

She moved her hands over his, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. Harvey’s cheeks reddened as he observed her movements, holding back the desire to lean closer to her until they touched. Just as she had done, he wanted to embrace her. Not just her fingers, her whole being. He wanted to comfort her, be her knight in shining armor. The more he looked into her eyes, the more he saw a reflection of what could be. But her touch brought him back to reality as she squeezed his hands in a comforting motion. 

“And you? What happened between you and Bruce?” She stared at him. When she was met with silence, she began to withdraw herself establishing, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. It’s alright.”

Before she could fully retract her hands from his, he interlaced his fingers with hers, pulling her even closer than she was before. “No, no, I want to tell you y/n. It's just…hard to talk about.”

Harvey took in a few deep breaths before starting, “Here goes. Before I came to the Academy, I didn’t live the same way I do now. I–My father was an alcoholic. My mother’s death was something he always seemed to dwell on and the anger that came from it was taken out on his health and me. He had a thing. He would flip a coin to decide whether he should…hurt me or not. One day I just couldn’t take the beatings anymore and I trapped him in his room for a few days. I know what I did was wrong, and nothing excuses that, but I don’t regret it. When the police finally freed my father, he got so mad he sent me the the Arkham Boys Rehabilitation Home upstate. 

“That’s when I met, rather, befriended Bruce. We shared a similar drive fueled by hatred. We became good friends and even made a pact of sorts. Someday we’d kill each other’s enemy–I’d kill Joe Chill, the man who murdered Bruce’s parents, and he’d kill my father. Then a while later, when I went home, my fath–dad, he turned over a new leaf. Even reminting the bastard coin that he’d used to determine my fate so that it would have only two heads. It was meant to be a symbol of how his only side, from then on, would be his good side. He stayed true to his words since then and I truly believe that he’s become a better man. Bruce though, he doesn’t believe in second chances. When I backed out of our ‘pact’ he thought I was being naive. He was truly angry, and he took out that fury by ignoring me. And even though he doesn’t seem to remember it, I still believe that the monster is still inside of him. The one fueling the bitter, cold heart he has now. It’s dangerous, and I don’t want you involved with that. Please y/n, I want you to be safe.”

y/n lifted her hands from his, dragged her chair until it touched his, and hugged him. In her embrace, he felt soothed allowing a tear to slip from his eyes.“Thank you, for trusting me. I’m happy for you Harv, I’m glad you got your happy ending.”

y/n patted her hand on his back, caressing him. It felt right, having him in her arms as she continued to whisper into his ear, “It’s ok, don’t worry about me. After all, I’ve got you, my Apollo.”

Her Apollo. Harvey was practically red as a tomato, gushing at her precious words. He has liked y/n for years now. And now was the perfect opportunity to tell her. He had to tell her. He had to say the three little words that have haunted him for years. I love you. In the intimacy of each other's arms, he could have her, finally. Before he could utter the words resting on the tip of his tongue, another voice beat him to it. 

“y/n.” Bruce had found his way behind her. Upon hearing his voice, she shot up, out of Harvey’s touch, and sat as straight as a ladder. Sitting between the boys she could feel the intensity of the glares they sent each other. Attempting to disarm the situation, she turned to face Bruce, giving him full attention as they discussed something.

Harvey couldn’t care less about what they were talking about, but he did feel a pang of envy. For Bruce to steal her attention in a heartbeat, and catch her flustered, was a rarity for Harvey. But it got him thinking, this was just the kind of world he was born into. The kind where people take and refuse to give. Where the hurt can only be scarred. Bruce lay a testament to that, while Harvey became an exception. What would it do to y/n?

The line between the rich and the poor was no man’s land and the people who crossed it were bound to get hurt. y/n wasn’t weak, but he couldn’t bear to see her suffer. He wanted to protect her, and it seemed that the only way he could do that was by keeping his love to himself. Better for him to stay by her side than overcomplicate things with labels.

˖ ࣪🦇𓆰♡𓆪🦇ִ ࣪⋆

taglist: @earth-to-name

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ΉΣЯ & ƬΉΣ ƧΣΛ

༊ you ask rafayel how lemurians reproduce, and he can't wait to show you

✯ warnings; rafayel x fem!reader, established relationship, MONSTERFUCKING, switch!rafayel, switch!reader, rafayel's lemurian form, sex underwater, reader is coded to be feminine (wears a dress and lingerie), mentions of alien genitalia, rafayel calls reader 'master' once, petnames (my little conch shell, my queen, baby, my love, miss bodyguard), size kink (reader is obvs smaller than him, he's a goddamn mErmAID), OVIPOSITION, dirty talk, language, breeding, girl on top position, missionary, reader sucks his merman cock (lmao), dubious breathing underwater methods, mentions of food, mentions of alcohol, suggestive content, slight spoilers for rafayel's myth if you squint, mild angst

✯ istg i am a zayne girlie but something about rafayel just makes me go feral

"𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐃𝐎 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒?"

The question stunned Rafayel from taking a bite of his souffle pancakes, his fork pausing from its journey into his now lax mouth. Sunlight continues streaming in past the French windows; the patrons of this cafe going about their day, oblivious to the malfunctioning celebrity artist amongst them.

A glob of whip cream freefalls off the metal tines and onto his plate. Those magnetic pink-blue eyes flash with a multitude of colors—like a sea-worn rock under the brilliant sun. 

However, as fast as your question hit him, he overcame it; no one could say that Mr. Rafayel, the art world's maverick and media-trained connoisseur, was slow in recovering his wits.

His signature teasing smile in place, Rafayel placed his fork back down onto the table.

Across from you, two friends were speaking in low tones and judging from their expression, unpacking their love lives with the sombreness of a priest reciting a divorce rite.

Rafayel blinked, tilting his head to the side. 

"Why would you ask, Miss Bodyguard?" 

He casually slung an arm over the back of his chair, a million dollar smile gleaming and ready. "Or, has something struck your most vivid imagination?" 

Laying it on thick, he couldn't even begin to disguise the gleam of his teeth—shining like the incisors of a great white after smelling fresh blood in the ocean. 

"I never thought you would be so sugges—ouch!"

Rafayel winced, and doubled over, rubbing his shin under the table. "What was that for?" 

You huffed, and fixed him a glare. "Don't embarrass me." 

"I was just joking."

"Wasn't funny." 

"Yeesh. You're really wound up about this, huh?" 

That infuriating smirk was plastered back onto his face; his boyish features making something in your chest squeeze. 

"Shut up and answer the question." 

He pretended to ponder on it for a moment. More color illuminates his stunning amethyst irises. Shining like jewels, only he knew the value of his true thoughts. 

Before you could retract your question and salvage this bright afternoon, Rafayel surprises you with his next words.

"Why don't I show you, my little conch shell?" 

You freeze. Scanning the area, you wondered if this was the right conversation to be having in such a brightly lit area. Granted, you and Rafayel were past the carnal stage —after being together for close to a year, your bodies were well-worn maps that lips and fingers could retrace and discover any time.

Fighting back a laugh, you shake your head.

"Is this another one of your racy propositions again?"

Rafayel merely smirked. "If that is how you wish to see it." 

Seriously now, you counter, "Will I have paint in my hair again?" 

Memories flash in your mind; of a large canvas, soft candlelight, and streaks of paint on the most random parts of your body found weeks after the deed was done. 

Your lover sits back, using one slender finger to cross over his heart. "I promise your hair won't go through such torment anymore." Despite your best efforts, your eyes trail to his broad chest, and the enticing V of his defined pecs.

As if sensing your eyes on him, Rafayel's mirth grows. "Looks like you can't resist much longer, I'll make you a deal—" 

He leaned in close—much too close—and you could smell the vanilla on his breath; the sunlight glinting off those purple irises softening with a look of warmth only he held for you.

"—come with me tonight to Whitesand Bay, and I promise you won't regret it." 

Muggy and balmy in the evening, Whitesand Bay wasn't exactly the ideal meet up spot for Rafayel to finally fulfill his promise and show you how mermaids reproduce. 

But, you showed up anyway.

Dressed in a light, silk dress to combat the heavy heat of the summer night, you cautiously made your way down to the docks, keeping your eyes and ears peeled for Rafayel. 

"You're here." He appeared a moment later, dashing as usual in his white button-down and pristine slacks. Dazzling under the half-light, you allowed him to take your hand and lead you right to a boat.

"We're not going for a to take a deep dive like last time, right?" Hearing the skepticism in your voice, he laughs.

"Of course, not. I paid Thomas a huge bonus last month and told him to buy a speedboat. For us to borrow, if you're curious." 

"Poor Thomas," you mused, letting him hold you close to his side as he helped you atop the board. "His boss is a tyrant... asking him to use his bonus for such lavish nonsense."

"Is it really a lavish nonsense if I get to have you here?" 

Rafayel's sincerity struck you mute. He breezed past your shocked figure, unaware of the effect he has on you. "Well? Are you going to continue mocking my methods of employment or are we going to do this?" 

Even though his chest was puffed and voice full of bravado, you could tell your sweet artist boyfriend was struggling with his nerves. The tips of his ears were bright red, a faint shadow of a pout on his lips. 

"Raffie," you whisper, taking his hand. He glanced at you, wide-eyed like a fish caught on the bait. "What're you so scared of? It's just you and me."

He lets you rub your thumb across his knuckles, tightening your hold on his fingers.

"I just..." he trails off. "... just don't want you to think I'm a freak. That's all."

Rafayel refused to look at you when he was this vulnerable, and you couldn't help the short giggle bursting past your defenses. He glared, and you quickly reached for his face, touching his cheek.

"Never," you emphasize. "I will never think you're weird. Ever. Besides, if you're a freak then I'm the weirdo in love with you."

Your dopey grin sets something aflutter in his chest, like ripples of ocean waves splashing across a strange shore. Rafayel smirks and takes your hand off his face, choosing to twine his fingers with yours. 

"Shall we make a move, then, my little conch shell?" 

"Rafayel..."

The sight before you stuns you with its splendor. Your beloved boyfriend had gone all out—picnic blankets, lighted candles, flutes of champagne, and spreads of seafood as far as the eye could see... arranged all across the flatbed of this hidden alcove where the sea kisses the land. 

In the distance, the gentle swishes of waves lapping at the shore greeted your ears, its waves illuminated faintly as if lit from within.

"Bioluminescent algae," Rafayel murmurs right behind you. His arms came to wrap around your waist, the heat of his breath fanning right across your exposed neck. "They only appear in the summer when the water is warm." You fight back a shiver, trying not to show how affected you were by his presence. 

"Oh." Dumbly, you weren't sure how to put your thoughts together, much less a coherent sentence. 

Sensing your speechlessness, Rafayel exhaled a laugh. "Come on. We should eat before the food gets cold."

There's a dip in his tone, something tinged with a darker emotion you barely had time to unravel before he was tugging you onto the picnic mat. The food was divine, his personal chefs going all out to satisfy both of your palettes. Conversation flowed easily like the champagne slipping down your throat, coaxing you to release the tightness in your chest in favor of bubbly giggles and flirty smiles.

Rafayel's cheeks were steadily growing pinker, and you were sure he would double over and pass out—forgetting about your brazen question—when you felt his hand on your thigh.

"Would you like to take a swim with me?" 

Memories of seaweed brushing your bare legs, Rafayel’s arms steadily around your waist as he led you past the shoreline fills your mind. Anything cool sounded like a blessing from this heat. 

Plus, he was a pretty good swimmer, as evident from what he truly was. Rafayel would never put you in harm’s way. 

Safe. That was the word. You always feel safe with him. 

“Yes.”

He takes your hand, gives it a squeeze and helps you stand.

Rafayel started to undress first. The hem of his expensive silk shirt reveals the fitted band of his equally expensive slacks—made by the best tailors in all of Linkon. Then, pale skin. It stretches, tightens over defined obliques, abs and then his impressively broad chest. 

Scattered across the sinew and muscle roping his torso were smatterings of moles and beauty marks. 

Someone once told you that these marks were spots past lovers used to love kissing. You idly trace your gaze over the one on his left pec, right over his heart. 

If Rafayel and you had been together in the past, you were sure that the spot over his heart would be your favorite spot to plant your lips on him. 

As furtively as you could, you tried not to gape at him, but completely failed.

Rafayel was a masterpiece made by the gods themselves, and you were the poor fool gaping at his altar; transfixed on the sharp V which led to a light dusting of his happy trail. 

His cock strains behind his slacks, bulging noticeably. You want to reach out and skim your fingers, eager to feel it twitch under your touch. 

"Well?" His gentle amusement tore your thoughts from their sinful vices. "Are you gonna just stare at me or are we going for a swim? Your pick, Miss Bodyguard." 

Showing that you were far braver than you felt, you stood up, shaky hands reaching for the straps of your dress. "Don't look at me." 

A surge of heat flooded your cheeks, your eyes resolutely turned to the side. Obediently, Rafayel followed your orders, though you could hear the cogs turning in his head. It's not like I haven't seen her naked before.  

But, this wasn’t the usual plotting, teasing and flirting you both would indulge in.

Something about the air tonight felt heavier. 

Intimate.

You swore Rafayel could pick up your heartbeat from where he stood. The heat on your cheeks spread down your chest, tingling on your fingertips.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

In nothing but in your lingerie, you shift from foot to foot, feeling too vulnerable and open.

The sky above yawns wide, inky black jaws lovingly unfurling like a spread of velvet sheets. His hand is warm in yours, and you squeeze it, trying to hide how you were trembling. 

“Hey.” Rafayel sweeps you into his arms. Try as you might to fight off the nerves, they bubble up in a short squeak when your face meets his chest. “Relax, baby. You’re shaking like a bubble in the sun… don’t pop just yet.”

You find comfort in his scent—oceanic and musky—breathing him in. 

Do you trust me? Rafayel once asked when you both were drunk on a night out. 

Of course, I do. You flick his nose. Why wouldn’t I trust you? 

Even if I’m different? He fixes you with a look, lucid for someone who had just downed an entire champagne bottle. And I can’t be normal for you? 

Especially because you aren’t normal in the sense of its word… I trust you even more because you trusted me, first. 

Waves lap at your toes, and you shiver at how cool the water is. 

“Easy,” Rafayel coaxes you. He takes the lead, sinking into the soft sand first, never releasing his hold on you. 

You do as he says, a sailor to his siren call, except you knew in your heart you would willingly follow him till the ends of the world.

Once the water was up to your waist, Rafayel exhaled. “Stay here. I’ll be back.” 

You don't have time to protest when he dives into the waves, barely kicking up a spray. Eyeing the softly luminated sea surface, you dip your fingers into the warm water, watching a blue orb float in between your loose fists. 

“Hey.”

Startling, you look up to find him grinning, lilac hair darkened with salt water; holding a bundle of what you thought was tangled hair in his grasp.

“I know you hate the taste of seaweed, but this’ll help when we… get into things.” 

He ends in an awkward note, and you wondered what happened to the once cocky, and sure Rafayel you knew. 

Unfurling his clenched fist, he hands you one single strand. “Eat this. It’ll help you breathe underwater temporarily.” 

“What is it?” you sniff at the strange vegetation. 

“Hydroweed. It gives humans the ability to breathe underwater for up to an hour.”

Putting your faith in his words, you nod. Opening your mouth, you bite into the Hydroweed. 

The briny taste was overwhelming, its tough fibers making it difficult for you to chew. But, you manage to swallow it down. 

Instantly, you felt your throat closing, the air choked out of your lungs. “Rafayel—!” 

Strong hands grab your waist, dragging you under the foamy waves. 

You gasp, about to scream at him to let you go, when you took in your first deep breath underwater.

The world suddenly came to life. Bright blue orbs floated right in front of your face, and you reached for them, in awe at how vivid they glowed now you could see them up close. 

Down in the depths, the waves became hushed murmurs in the background, filling your ears with a ringing silence. 

“Are you okay?” Rafayel’s voice shot through the floating calm like a shout, and you cringed back in shock. 

“Sorry,” he laughs, and pulls you to his side. “It’s way quieter down here than up above because sound travels differently. Strange, huh?” 

You nod, not entirely sure if you could use your voice. As if he read your thoughts, Rafayel chuckles.

“Go ahead and speak, my little conch shell. I can hear you just fine.” 

You take a deep breath. “O-okay.” Growing confident and more comfortable, you relax in his embrace. “It feels… strange. Like you said. But, at the same time, I don’t entirely hate it.”

“Mhm,” he rubs your back, smiling reassuringly and wide. “If there are other Lemurians within a few miles, they can most likely hear you scream.”

His double meaning didn’t register until you felt his palms tracing your hips, teasing down your body to give your ass a fond squeeze.

“Hey—!” 

You swat his hands away, mute with embarrassment. “I-is that why you all live so deep in the sea? For privacy?” 

Rafayel hums. It’s a little off putting how clear his voice sounds, like you were listening to him through a pair of high-grade earphones. 

“Usually, Lemurians mate deep in the trenches where the light can’t find us. It helps to keep things more private and intimate. If not, we travel to other seas uninhabited by our species. I used to know a guy who dragged his wife to the middle of the Atlantic when they were trying for a family.”

Rafayel’s focus ebbs into the distance, a tinge of sadness in his tone that appears whenever he speaks of his long lost people and home. 

You take his hands in yours and squeeze, trying to draw him back from the precipice of his ruined memories.

“We could try…” you trail off, unsure if this was the right thing to say. “...to repopulate it?” 

Like your words were a trigger, you found yourself planted right on the ocean floor, soft sand cushioning your body.

You squeak, quickly darting your eyes to his, arms instinctively wrapping around his shoulders.

Rafayel’s usual glimmering pink-blue eyes were shadowed by a darker emotion; reminding you of glinting shark teeth or a blade of moonlight slicing through choppy water. 

“Don’t say that, baby.” Was it you, or did his voice drop an octave? 

Your Lemurian lover’s low reprimand made a shudder run down your spine, his half-mast eyes causing your stomach to flip.

“You don’t know how those words make me feel… my kind used to reproduce by the dozens—I can’t wait to see you bulging with my babies.” 

Wait… babies? 

With a capital ‘S’?

His mouth lands on yours, hungry and seeking. You kiss him back with as much ardor, lost in the sensations that you almost forgot what he had said earlier.

“Raf… Rafayel—” you gasp when he starts to dig his teeth into your neck, nipping down your jaw and collarbone.

Deft hands unclip your bra, the motion fluid like he has done this a million times before. From the corner of your eye, you see every article of clothing he took off you floating right to the surface; moonlight bouncing off the fragmented surface, playing across the broad expanse of his back. 

Your head swims with fuzzy thoughts long discarded when he pushes the plush fat of your tits together, licking and nipping around your areolas, ignoring how your nipples were already circling with need. 

“Raffie…” You fist his hair, trying to push his mouth to where you need him the most. “Don’t tease me.”

He laughs at your soft whine. “I need to make sure you’re prepared, my love.”

My love. Rafayel only called you that term whenever he was in the thick of his passion; it seems like you were about to witness the cumulation of your innocent question coming true.

Strong hands held you firmly while he eased down your body, planting fleeting kisses on every inch of your skin his lips could touch. 

Down in the deep, gasps and screams weren’t sounds, but vibrations; the sounds escaping your mouth resounding around your entwined bodies.

“Fuck,” Rafayel cussed once he reached the apex of your thighs. “I can’t wait to finally taste you underwater.” 

Barely giving you time to brace yourself, the broad stroke of his tongue melted through your folds. 

Never would you have imagined you would be eaten out right on the ocean’s bed—going deeper and deeper into the neverending blue. 

Rafayel’s lips were wrapped around your nub, sucking and caressing it with his tongue exactly how you liked it. Your smaller fingers sank into his hair, the other entwining with his own above your heart; back arched to give him everything you have.

“S’good,” he murmurs, verging on the edge of slurring. “I love you.”

His name tumbles from your mouth like a primal echo, calling him right to the edge of a bottomless trench.

Rafayel wasn’t afraid; he would traverse the deep beyond for as many chances to be with you as he could.

“Put your legs around my waist,” he whispers in between sloppy kisses back up your body. 

If someone were to tell you that your sweet boyfriend was literally making love to you on the bottom of the ocean, you would tell them a Wanderer had infected their mind.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see his body emanating a faint glow. A distant memory claws past the thin membrane of your barely held together thoughts; moonlight bouncing off pink-blue scales, his unbearable body heat and a pearly sheen misting his eyes.

“Rafayel—” 

The change was imperceptible. At first, you couldn’t feel anything but the sinful sinking of his cock stretching out your cunt. 

Then, it hit you like a freight train.

His waist felt like it was expanding, pushing your thighs further apart. But, when you glanced down the line of your bodies, the length of his legs was replaced by something longer. Bigger. It distinctly had two fins attached to the end, bent at an angle to accommodate the position he was fucking you in.

“R-Rafayel—!” 

“Fuck,” he strains, lining his forehead with yours. “I-I’m scared of hurting you.” 

“N-no,” you force your thick tongue to relinquish the words. “You'll never.”

His skin grew harder under your touch, inches of pale expanses replaced by shiny scales. Minus his face, his limbs, back, chest and torso were completely covered by the armor-like toughness of multiple hardened plates. Where the scales couldn’t touch, they were bonded together by thin layers of lamella, giving his entire body an otherworldly sheen. 

Mesmerized, you titled his face towards you, marveling at the scattering of scales adorning his throat and jaw. 

“Wow,” you murmur, touching them. They weren’t as hard or sharp as you imagined; his scales had a delightful give you couldn't stop pressing down on. 

In response, Rafayel grunts. “Baby… It’s happening.”

You were about to part your mouth and ask him what was, when your eyes shot wide open. 

The place where you both were connected suddenly grew tighter, as if something was pushing against your insides. Your muscles instinctively tried to expel the foreign intrusion, tensing and tightening—it was a shot of fear unlike any other you had ever tasted. 

Panicking, you cried out, “Rafayel, stop!”

Immediately, he ceased rutting into you, breathing heavily. Anguished, pastel eyes peel clapped onto yours, a pearly sheen filming over them.

“Shit… shit, I’m so sorry…”

“What’s happening?” you blurt out, a tremble of fear in your question. “Are you… are you putting e-eggs in me?” 

“Eggs?” he sounds bewildered, and that causes you to be perplexed in turn. Breathing hard, Rafayel’s forehead thumps onto your sternum. He doesn’t refute you or confirm your suspicions. Instead, he takes in a deep, ragged breath, like he was trying to tame down a cresting emotion. “Did you actually think, for a single second, that I was going to leave eggs in you?” 

Before you can even speak, his broad shoulders start to shake. Rafayel’s quiet laughter roused your confusion and indignation; your brows furrowing together because he wouldn’t stop laughing.

“Shut up,” it was your turn to be the whiner in this relationship. “You’re mean. It’s a valid question!” 

“Oh, baby,” he wheezes. One second, he was laughing, and the next, he lapsed into a quiet seriousness, the sudden mood change giving you whiplash. “I would never hurt you like that, my love. Trust me.”

Gently grasping your hand with his, he slips it down both your bodies, right to where you two were connected. “What I meant to show you, my little conch shell, is this.” 

He brings your hand between your own legs. You thought he was going to make you touch yourself, but when you feel something hard and distinctively not flesh-like bump your hand, you flinch back.

“Ssh, don’t be afraid,” he murmurs. “Go on and take a look, my love.”

Again with my love. 

Rafayel was either struck with nerves, or he was completely enamored with you at this moment. 

You licked your lips, tasting salt water on them and cautiously stretched your fingers to feel the strange object up. It was long and girthy, like a penis, except it wasn’t.

Steeling yourself, you risk a peek.

Gone was the smooth, veiny skin of Rafayel’s cock. His human one. 

In its place, was a thick length, riddled with ridges and bumps like an octopus’ tentacle. His very human appendage was always a stunner—slender (like his physique), veiny, with a hooked tip—but the sight before you (that strange and downright alien sight) blew your expectations out of the water. 

Your gasp reverberated around the pressing silence. Rafayel was quiet, waiting for you to speak. In turn, you couldn’t keep your eyes off his new genitalia. 

“Is that…” you struggle to piece together a coherent question. “Is that all… going inside of me?” 

Rafayel grunts. “Unless you don’t want me to, sweetheart.”

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, staring past the crest of his shoulder towards the shimmering, seemingly impenetrable ceiling of a world beyond the bubble you both created.

“I do,” you finally whisper, your confession rippling around the both of you, suspending your forms in an endless wave of mutual ecstasy. “I want this. I want you.”

Rafayel doesn’t bother to waste his time replying. You brace yourself, heels digging into his hips, clinging onto him with all of your strength. 

The first breach of his otherworldly cock inside of you felt like a touch of electricity up your spine. You cried out, nails digging into his scaly shoulders.

“Relax,” he paces you through the sensations. “I need you to relax for me, my love. I can’t get in if you’re this tight.” 

You gulp in a few deep breaths with your eyes screwed shut, and eventually, your heartbeat slows down. Sluggishly cracking your lids open, you catch the gleam in his pink-blue irises; locks of his iridescent hair floating around his serene expression.

The strange sensation was back, easing past your ring of muscle. You choke on a moan, trying to swallow your fear. 

“Ssh,” Rafayel murmurs. To distract you, he leaves feathery kisses on your cheeks, jaw and then, your lips. 

If the bottom of the ocean wasn’t enough to drown you, his kiss would. 

Rafayel… you whisper into the water. 

His name was a prayer dedicated to the Sea Gods on your tongue, your body sprawled out beyond your comprehension. Every line of you was taut with tension, the achingly slow stretch of his appendage plunging deeper and deeper into your heat had your head spinning like a whirlpool was threatening to suck you in. 

“Almost,” his harsh whisper clashes with your breath. “So good for me; you’re doing so good for me, my love.”

“Rafayel,” you mewled, the sea taking your tears. Hiccuping his name, you shudder, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. 

Your fist clamped down on soft sand, your back arched, and finally—finally—you felt his hips clipping yours.

“Fuck.”

The both of you groan in unison. 

His kisses were still warm, flush on your parted lips. Rafayel shunted his hips forward, then back. Repeating the same motion. 

Again. Again. And again.

The sensation was unlike any other you had felt in this world. No cock could possibly compare to the ridges wrapped around his length, the blunt, elongated tip almost touching the deepest part of your body.

“Rafayel,” you cried in a thick voice, like your mouth was filled with cotton. “Oh, God…”

Your tits flushed to his chest, your fingers in his hair and his tongue twining with yours shook your inner world like a deep sea earthquake.

This wasn’t like your usual lovemaking sessions; everything was amplified, more sensitive and tangible.

God, was it all so tangible.

You could physically feel every scaly ridge under your fingertips. His modified cock dragging those ecstasy-inducing bumps across your walls. Even his taste was different underwater; like a briny, primal flavor which coated your tongue. 

“Y/N,” his moan more angelic than what you could handle. “I love you. I love you so, so much—” 

Rafayel choked, and you didn’t need to ask to know he was about to cum. 

The ecstasy of it all wrapped its tendrils around both your embracing bodies; a human and Lemurian entangled in a dance as old as time. 

“I love you,” you cry out, toes curling and your nails raking down his back. Rafayel grunts, and in the dim half-light of the ocean engulfing you, you swore you saw his frantic eyes shine like precious pearls.

The world was closing in, darkness seeping into the corners of your vision. 

You pushed on his shoulder, trying to get his attention; acutely aware that the ache in your lungs wasn’t because of his kisses, but of something else.

Something out of your control.

The call of the surface burned through your lungs, and you opened your mouth, about to scream for him to let you go, when it all slammed into you like a tidal wave.

Darkness exploded, splattering across your mind, and you heard his cry of your name, the sound now echoey and muggy.

There was movement. A sharp tug. What sounded like wind whistling through your ears. 

Through your snatches of consciousness, you were aware of the pushback both your bodies weathered through the wall of water; how the ocean was trying to hold you back.

As soon as the sensation appeared, it was shattered by a golden burst of fresh oxygen.

Gulping in mouthfuls of air, you yelled out in fright, blindly grappling across the writhing dark mess of endless ocean surrounding you. 

Rafayel! Rafayel!

You felt strong arms wrap around you, holding you in his embrace like how a father would cradle his child.

Close your eyes, you thought you heard him murmur in your ear. And don’t open them until I tell you it’s safe to.

Arms clamped around his shoulders and legs wrapped around his waist, your intrinsic fear of the ocean made you trust his word. 

Gently now, you were bobbing across the water, the cool currents rushing across your bare skin. It felt like gelatinous cold drafts constantly hitting every body part. Staying true to his promise, you kept your eyes shut until you felt rough sand on your back; the waves receding from your body to lap at your toes.

Gasping, you peel your eyes open, lid by lid.

The alcove where he took you tonight was back in front of you. 

Rolling onto your front, you tried to stand, but only succeeded in stumbling back onto the sand; losing your sense of balance from countless minutes spent suspended in the ocean's mass.

“Hey, hey. Easy there.”

Rafayel was still in his Lemurian form, and this time, under the dim, flickering lights of the bay’s lanterns, you were stunned into an awe-inspiring disquiet.

The flickering warmth casted shadows over his iridescent scales, those once tough and gray plates under the ocean’s darkness glowing from the inside out with a pink-blue flame.

Half of his tail was still submerged in the water, and you couldn’t help but drag your gaze across the stunning length.

Easily a few feet long, you couldn’t even begin to wrap your head around the mental image of how majestic his entire Lemurian form would look underwater. It was just too bad the Hydroweed’s effects were over before you could even get to the good part.

Your thighs were chafing, drawing attention to your gapingly empty cunt. 

Pulling yourself to your knees, you came chest to chest with him. 

Rafayel’s saltwater soaked fingers grasped your cheeks, titling it up to inspect you. 

Trickles of water seeped down his face, darkening the sand with droplets of wetness.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, fraught and remorseful. “I lost track of time. I could’ve seriously injured you.”

“It’s okay.” The both of you flinched back from how hoarse your voice sounded. Clearing your throat, you struggled to put your mushy thoughts into words. “I… enjoyed it.”

Rafayel dropped his hands, his breathing growing ragged. “I should get back to normal—”

“No!” 

You stunned him with your vehemence, scrambling to grip his shoulders, clapping your crazed eyes onto his widened ones.

You’re acting like a mad woman. 

But, he didn’t say that to you. Rafayel grasped your hands, drawing them to his chest, pouring every drop of attention onto you. 

“I want to… try it… here.” 

You pieced together your incoherent request, and a part of you wondered—dreaded—if you had already lost your mind from the lack of oxygen and crushing deep sea pressure. 

Rafayel stared at you for a moment, unspeaking.

Then, he gently dragged you closer. Before you could even squeak, he had you straddling his waist. 

This time, it was your turn to peer down at him, curtains of your wet hair framing your face.

“Take me, then,” his voice was equally as hoarse as yours, though you suspected it wasn’t from ingesting enough saltwater to fill up your lungs. Trembling fingers touched your face, smoothing across your cheeks. “I’m all yours. I’ve been bound to you since the very beginning. You can take me, I won’t fight back. I told you I wouldn’t that night, don’t you remember? I’m keeping my word now.”

Something about the longing in his tone, how those pink-blue eyes yearned to swim in your soul, brought a lump to your throat. 

“Rafayel…”

Strong hands helped to guide your hips over his cock, easing you down with quiet praises and encouragement.

So good for me, baby. Look at you. Taking me so well. Wish I could paint this moment—you look so pretty. All for me. My love. My love. 

“R-Rafayel!” Thin red lines bloomed on his chest from your nails, your eyes rolling back into your head.

Without the sea’s buoyancy to support you, gravity took over, easing you down his bulbous cock.

Rafayel’s thumb circles your clit, rubbing it gently, soothingly, to get you wetter.

Your body felt like it was about to split cleanly into two—he was much too big for you. 

“C-can’t!” you whisper-cried. “I can’t take all of you—ngh.”

His mouth found your nipples, licking and sucking along the fleshy nubs until they were coated with his spit and tightening obscenely; an erotic outline lit by the bay's dim lantern lights.

“You can,” he mumbled in between your breasts. “I know you can.”

The rough strip of his tongue slid from your sternum towards your neck, pausing right at your pulse point. Sharp bites bloomed on your neck from his teeth, and you shiver from the throbbing pain going straight to your clit. 

That strange, heightening sensation was back. You felt much too sensitive, like a lightning rod trembling from an impending electrical storm.

One touch could’ve made you explode.

Rafayel brought your lips to his, tangling his tongue down your throat; stoppering your cries. 

Warm, smooth, distinctively human palms caressed your hips and thighs. 

Almost in, baby, he whispers in between kisses. I can feel every inch of you. 

You flit your eyes to where both your bodies meet, in mute shock from how deep he already was in you.

“You like it, baby?” he breathes warmly on your jaw. “Like watching yourself sit on my cock?” 

Fuck. Stop teasing me, you want to whine. But, the words won’t slip past your clenched teeth. 

His name bounces across the soft sand, the wind picking up and making you shiver. 

The warm glow of the lanterns spill across his sharp cheekbones, planes of his jaw. You’ve never seen someone look this beautiful under a hazy night sky before.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” you feel him murmur against your lips. “Say the word, baby. We’ll stop.”

You’re panting now, trying hard not to break your progress and having to start over. Rafayel was about halfway inside, and you forced your body to push and receive. 

Guh, you gasp, tossing your head back. 

“Love seeing you stretch yourself out on my cock, baby,” Rafayel mutters hoarsely—passionately. 

The implicit meaning in his words is clear: I love how you give yourself so willingly to me.

For Rafayel, you would do this ten times over until your body memorizes him. Willing your cunt to make a home for his monster cock even if it would break your spine.

“Almost,” he reassures in a low groan. “You feel s’good baby.”

He’s sweating as well, bullets of exertion not to break his composure and fuck into you mingling with the last of the seawater droplets rolling down his temples.

Rafayel, Rafayel, you whimper his name over and over. Oh God…

Something bubbles inside of you, thick and hot. You think you’re about to spill over, thighs shaking from the effort of holding yourself up. 

Your lover groans, low and lusty, his eyes trapped right in between your legs. “You’re so wet—look. Your little pussy loves me, baby.”

You glance to where he’s telling you to look, and nearly pass out from the embarrassment. 

Thick, pearly droplets are oozing down his merman length, and you would’ve thought it was from him had you not felt your walls start to twitch—more wetness gushing and trickling down to stain his pelvis.

The added lubrication made it easy enough for you to bottom out on his cock, and both your mutual cries of ecstasy reverberated into the dark night.

Shit, shit. Too big. You’re too big for me.

“You can take it,” he mouths your earlobe, kissing down your cheek. “Doing so well for me.”

Your breathing trembles, like a question hanging in thin air. Can you fuck me now? 

Rafayel scoffs and bumps his nose with yours gently. “Always making me do the hard work. You really are my spoiled, pretty princess, aren’t you? Or…” his voice drops, the heat in his eyes almost scorching you. “Do you want to be my good girl?”

You gasp: I do. I want to be your good girl.

He hisses when you start to shift your hips, the motion making your clit catch on his pelvis. You mewl, leaning forward to repeat the same motion; trying to chase after that spark of pleasure over and over again.

Those big, smooth palms cradle your face, pushing your hair back.

Rafayel’s jaw is tense, like he’s biting down on some inner demon you can’t see. 

That’s it. That’s my good girl. 

Your nails leave white crescent moons on his pale shoulders as you ride him, every bump and ridge of his cock brushing your sweet spot. He was so deep in you, almost plunging right past your cervix. 

“Fuck,” he curses. “You’re gonna kill me, baby.”

An arm sweeps you right to his chest, your cheek pressed atop his heartbeat. Rafayel thrusts his hips up, meeting your sensual grinding.

Spit pools in the back of your throat, your eyes squeezed shut as you let your Lemurian lover have his way with you. You part your mouth, mellifluous moans touching the air and turning it golden to his reddened ears.

I love you. His whispers against your throat, the sting of his teeth soothed by the sweetness of his praise and adoration. I love you so much, my good girl.

“You fuck me so good,” the words tumble from your split mouth, recklessly thoughtful. “No one can fuck me like you.”

Yeah, he pants, mouthing your pulse point. Cream on this cock, baby. It’s all yours. His hands span across your lower back, traversing down to grip your ass and spreading you wider for him.

Give me everything you’ve got, Princess. 

His cock plunges so deep inside of you, and you were sure that if he came right now, he might’ve knocked you up in one try. 

All yours. Rafayel was all yours. 

You lean up, arms resting on either side of his head as the sand bites into your skin. 

Rafayel thinks he might’ve died and gone to heaven. He watches, mesmerized, as your tits sway right in front of his face. You’re fucking him now, meeting each fluid thrust he had to give; bouncing on his lap like you were riding out a desperate heat.

His thighs tense, and he feels your pussy clench down on him. 

Fuck, you stutter, and so do your hips. I’m close. 

He squeezes your ass, smacks it with both palms.

Your breathing catches, and you ride him even harder. Faster.

“Fuck,” those pretty eyes were hooded, latched on your bouncing tits and stiff nipples. “Look so good fucking me—you love using me, don’t you, Master?” 

You gasp, and Rafayel feels your composure slip when you squeeze down on him. He almost cums right there and then. But, he fights it off, needing to see you lose control first.

The sight of your stickiness frothing at the base of his cock nearly makes him white out in pleasure, getting messier with every stroke of his non-human cock. 

He’s never had a human before in his Lemurian form, but it’s something straight out of a wild, wet dream.

Your skin was so, so soft in comparison to his hard scales that he’s almost afraid of hurting you with them.

But, you prove you’re made of tougher stuff when you lean back, bracing both hands on the girth of his tail. 

Showing off your puffy pussy and glistening hole taking every inch of him like it was made for this and only for this purpose.

He feels himself drowning in you. No one has ever taken him this deep. His mouth falls open, a low grunt touching your hot ears. Good girl… good fucking girl. His praises make you warm all over. You would do anything and everything to earn his devotion. But, Rafayel doesn’t make you do it—he gives it to you freely. One large hand smoothed over your belly, your tits, pinching your nipples and smirking inwardly when you gasp and groan. 

Breathy whimpers resound, his thumb on your clit rubbing out full body shudders. The sky above spins, like he’s being sucked into and about to be spat out of a whirlpool.

His eyes bounce from the softness of your belly, your tits jiggling, and then back down to your pretty pussy taking all of him in.

“Like what you see?” 

Rafayel flits his gaze back up. Your eyes were two pools of smoldering heat, about to burn him alive.

You grab his wandering hand, pressing it right over your stomach. “I can feel you here.” He twitches, and you gasp. “So, so deep.”

Sloppy sounds of your bodies meeting; you were so, so wet and perfect. Your pussy was gushing, fighting between squeezing him out or sucking him in. 

I’m gonna cum, baby, he grunts. The vein in his neck tightens, and your whimper almost sets him off.

Gonna cum so deep inside of you. Make you so round and perfect with my babies. You’re my Queen, aren’t you? My love. I’ll love you until the seas dry up. You’re mine forever. 

It’s that tinge of possessiveness which does you under. You were putty to his deep, gravelly voice; those words of unending devotion and sin.

His thick, dark lashes flutter, those pretty eyes rolling back into his head.

Fuck, baby. He grabs onto your hips, looking for something to steady him. “I need you… I’m gonna cum,” he whines, and it’s pathetic really—how much you’ve affected him.

If he was a lesser man, Rafayel might’ve called you his weakness. But, you were more than that.

You were the reason he woke up in the mornings. The reason he relentlessly pursued the passages of time and space to find you; you were the muse to his madness. 

“Do it for me, baby,” you pant, and fall back into his arms. Chest to chest, lips to lips, every breath you took was exhaled by his own. “Cum for me.”

Make me yours forever, Rafayel.

The world goes white, and your pussy quivers around him, an ending opera note suspended in mid-air.

It comes crashing down, slo-mo turned to a normal pace when time rushes back to engulf your sluggish shore.

His cum fills you up, thicker and running hotter than a human’s. It felt strange; pulsating inside of you, glob after glob. Your pussy shudders and breaks, physical and emotional walls all torn down for him; voice hoarse and edged with mania. Rafayel, Rafayel, Rafayel…

You mumble his name like a prayer while he drags your lips to his, kissing you like an oath.

He feels you shudder around him, growing weaker like a kitten. It would be so easy for him to pierce your neck with his teeth, cut through your jugular with his scales. 

But, Rafayel tames his primal, oceanic urge to destroy, reining it back in favor of nosing your hair.

“Felt so good,” he mumbles tiredly. “Are you okay, my little conch shell?”

You hum, shift your hips. The bulbous head of his cock brushes the opening of your cervix. “I can’t believe I took you so deep.” You drift off and in a few minutes, feel him go from soft to half-hard in you again. 

“Are you still turned on, baby?” you ask innocently, voice soft and frayed with exhaustion. Rafayel swivels his face away, trying to hide his red ears.

“N-no.”

You huff a laugh, using all the strength in your jelly-like limbs to sit up. Something catches your attention, and in the corner of your eye, you pick up the dark strands, fisting it close to your mouth.

Rafayel watches, unsure what you’re intending to do. He sits up, squints, and almost gasps.

That’s enough Hydroweed for you to last a night under the ocean. 

He’s about to stop you, when you ingest it all in one go.

The second you convulse, he pushes you back into the ocean, your gasp of relief second to only his bruising kiss completely devouring your mouth. 

Your legs wrap around his waist, and your back meets the ocean floor again. This time, you take the lead, rolling him off to straddle his waist again. 

Rafayel glances at you, gorgeous pastel eyes hooded. 

He notices how comfortable you’re getting underwater; how easy it is for you to scoot down his torso, your playful smirk making his cock and heartstrings throb. 

“Baby—” he mumbles, only to be cut off by the sight of you kissing his bulbous tip.

Rafayel isn’t a believer of god per say (coming from his own experience as a retired sea deity), but at the sight of your pretty lips skimming his merman tip, he thinks he could give religion another shot. 

What’re you doing? His whisper carries across the currents.

Ssh, you hush him, rimming the tip of your tongue around his flushed head. You don’t miss how his tail twitches, cock now painfully at full mast. 

Isn’t it obvious? You mumble, kissing the tip reverently. I want to taste my Lemurian's pretty cock.

He seizes, back arching, putty in your hands when you take him down as deep as your little throat allows. 

What else you couldn’t fit, you used your hands to jack up and down.

Soft hisses slip past his clenched teeth. “You’re driving me crazy, baby.”

Mhm, you slur, flickering your hazy, fucked out gaze to his flushed face. Tastes so good, you whisper, and Rafayel was glad the ocean didn’t show the line of drool that usually trickles down your jaw; your fucked out expression which would make his control snap instantly. 

You would need to consume at least three more mouthfuls of Hydroweed before he was fully done with you. 

Luckily, Thomas’ yacht came with some fluffy towels.

Rafayel had wrapped you in one while he laid the other under your back; content to curl his tail around you, still in his Lemurian form. The honeywood deck was warm to the touch, the balmy evening offering comfort and respite from hours underneath the cold, dark ocean. 

“So…” he quips, not one for stewing in silence. “Questions? Thoughts? Comments?” 

You fight back a smile. 

“Was there really eggs put up inside of me? Swore I felt a lot of round and hard things sloshing inside.”

“That… would be my tip.” Rafayel flicks your nose when you scoff. “On a scale of one to ten, how freaked out would you be if I said I did actually put some eggs up in your body and it had to be fertilized so the rest would start falling out of you like gelatinous goo until the only one takes?” 

You blink. “Pretty freaked out, if I’m being honest.”

“So… a nine?” 

“More like—” you lifted your hand and made a so-so motion. “—a six, at best. I’m kinda used to your bullshit by now, babe.” 

“Hey!” Rafayel tugs on the ends of your hair, making you laugh. Growing serious now, he murmurs, “So, you’re absolutely fine with being knocked up with a half-Lemurian kid?” 

“Depends,” you mumble mildly. “Am I the first one you’re doing this with?”

Barely missing a beat, he nodded. “The only one. Never had time to sleep around. Always busy running a kingdom. Blah-blah. Typical God of the Sea stuff. No biggie.”

“Aw,” you coo, “I’m so honored you waited for me.” 

You expected him to scoff or roll his eyes, not lapse into a serious quietness. Rafayel’s silence stretched on, and you perched your jaw on his shoulder.

“Hey. Penny for your thoughts?” 

“Hmm.” Rafayel tugs you closer, grabbing your hand and pressing it to his cheek. His lips are inches apart from yours, warm breath touching your parted mouth. You taste him on your tongue, invigorating yet comforting.

A well-worn sign of home. 

“Just that I would do it all over again. Wait for you, I mean. Even if it takes a long, long time.”

A few centimeters and 800 years stand between the two of you. 

But, for tonight, you breach the distance and kiss him, grateful that you had been given this cherished memory together with Rafayel.

— rbs and feedback are appreciated !!

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or translate my work across other platforms.

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YES YES YES YES YES YES YEEEEEEEEEEEEES!!!!!!!!

Word count: 2600+

Warnings: just some angst and then fluff, nothing that would need a special warning

Jeez.. I rewrote the first half of this chapter so many times I can't anymore. I started with the chapter that had 1400+ words and look where we ended up. It took me four days to get it into current version. I really wonder what was flowing in my system that I wrote such a misserable first draft. Maybe I just skipped coffee. Hopefully it finally makes sense😮‍💨

Part XXVIII | Part XXX

Lucien didn't come back after talking with Tamlin. You asked him about the fox boy, but he only muttered that something happened and he had to return to human lands. It was disappointing since you hoped he would stay a bit longer. You liked his cheerful nature and a seemingly endless number of stories.

Without mentioning the conversation they certainly had in the two hours they spent outside, Tamlin stepped closer and hesitantly embraced you for the first time since he rejected your touch in the morning. He leaned his forehead against yours, searching for something in your eyes, his own full of regret. His thumb caressed your cheek as if he was wiping away the tear that had already dried. Only then he apologised for his previous behaviour and tried to make it up to you with a breathtaking kiss.

You really wondered what had happened between the two because since Tamlin returned he was different. It was hard to explain because it wasn't any palpable change, more like a feeling, though it was there. If he was loving and tender before, now he was excessively loving and tender. You would bask in his love and care, if you didn't know any better. The sweetness of his acts was tinged with bitterness that settled inside you and grew with each passing day.

Soon the change became more clearer. There was something wrong with him. He could smile, tease you and cuddle with you as much as he wanted, but the nervous energy and tension was always present. At first he was only occasionally drumming with his fingers, but soon enough he started also pacing a lot, often biting his bottom lip and tapping his foot. He was apparently stressed out.

But why? What caused it? As far as you knew nothing had changed in your lives. You continued with your peaceful simple everyday tasks that he seemed to enjoy before. It was nerve-racking. You tried to help him by making him feel comfortable, preparing delicious food and calming teas. You tried everything you could, however nothing worked.

Soon you were left only with a hope and a believe in love that he expressed so often with every no matter how small a gesture. You wanted to believe in him, but it was hard. His nervousness made you feel uneasy and it got worse and worse.

Lucien promised everything would be fine once he talked with Tamlin. In the weakest moments you wished Lucien never mentioned the wedding, that he never came for a visit. You thought that that was the cause of it all.

You even considered to take out the wedding topic once again, so you could reassure him that you didn't and wouldn't expect anything like that from him. That if he hated the idea of being married so much, you were fully content to continue living with him like this, without any official recognition of your relationship. But, in the end, you were too worried about his reaction and rather decided to throw out the whole idea and bury the words like wedding and marriage so deep that nobody would dig them out.

Tamlin obviously had something he'd like to share with you. However, when you gave him an opportunity to say whatever bothered him aloud, he just brushed it away.

"Is everything okay?"

"Perfectly fine," he always replied. Or, "everything is perfect." Those were the only answers he had for you. Perfect. Perfect. He repeated it so often you started to hate the word.

And on top of all your worries, he everyday disappeared for hour or two, sometimes he was gone even for half a day. Of course, it wasn't something bad and you wouldn't mind it if it wasn't so atypical for him. He was free male and High Lord of this court. He had every right to go wherever he wanted, but during the months you lived together, he had never done anything similar. Definitely not on a daily basis and without telling you what he was up to or where to look for him if necessary.

Each day around the same time, he suddenly stood up, said that he's going hunting and he was gone. He never forgot to return with rabbit or something small, but it was his smell that gave out that it wasn't the only activity he engaged in. You smelled freshly cut wood, earth and paint that lingered on his clothes among the other unfamiliar scents you couldn't decipher. When you asked him about it the first time it happened, he only laughed nervously and quickly changed the topic. It was the first and the last time you tried it. Because if he wanted you to know, he would simply answer the question.

Sadness was consuming you piece after piece until you became dull. You tried to hide it from him, to pretend that everything was as perfect as he'd proclaimed. If only you were a skillful liar. He wouldn't notice anything.

Based on his behaviour it was clear that he not only noticed it but also worried about you. His embraces were firmer and kisses more passionate. He never missed an opportunity to tell you how much he loved you. Moreover after disappearing for hours he even started to bring you flowers as an apology. It was his way of trying to cheer you up, to put a smile on your face. What a pity that it didn't work.

And so you were waiting for him to open up to you until you couldn't take it anymore.

It was after the dinner. All day long, it was quite cold and the evening was even colder. In human lands behind the border was already hard winter and even though an eternal spring reigned in this court, the wind blowing from the south brought some of the coldness in.

As usual, you were seated on Tamlin's lap in embrace of his strong arms, silently watching the dancing flames in hearth. Your mind wandered aimlessly from one thought to another, continuously swirling around him, his sudden change and mysterious behaviour.

The words flowed from your lips before you could stop them.

"Could you, please, tell me what's going on?" you asked him calmly in a small voice. You didn't want to fight. You even wasn't angry. You were just tired, completely exhausted and wanted to know the truth regardless of what it was.

His heart skipped a beat and his Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. He tried to smile. "Nothing. Everything is perfectly fine, love."

You sighed and began to pull away. His embrace tightened, holding you in the place.

"Hey.. Love, where are you going?" he asked lowly, a hint of pain in his voice.

"If you don't want to tell me what's going on, I-" you weren't sure what you wanted to say. You didn't want to give up on him, push him around or give him ultimatum, but this already hurt. And a lot. The uncertainty was slowly killing you.

"Please, don't," he pleaded, tugging you to his broad chest. The tips of his claws slid out, pricking your skin a bit painfully. He was desperate. "Just give me little more time and I will explain everything. For now, just believe in me. Please. I love you so much. I swear it's nothing bad. Really. I actually hope you will like it once you see it. Please.."

You sighed, thinking about it. "Fine," you said at last.

"Just a few more days, love. I know it's already so hard for you, but please, have a little more patience with me," he reassured you again and kissed the crown of your head.

And he did as he promised.

Hardly a week passed since that evening. You were in the kitchen, washing some forest berries that you collected in the morning, when Tamlin returned after two hours of being who-knows-where with a beaming smile. He strolled to you and hugged you from behind, placing a ticklish kiss on the column of your neck followed by gentle nip. Resting his chin on your shoulder he peeked down on your hands.

"What is my pretty little rose doing?" he cooed to your ear happily.

"I thought I would tried to bake a berry pie," you murmured, still not looking at him. You occupied yourself by placing the clean berries on already prepared dough in the baking form.

"Hmm," he kissed the sensitive spot under your ear. "It sounds amazing. How can I help?"

"I'm almost done. Just to bake it."

"Fantastic," he laughed and waited until you placed the last berry and wiped your hands. Then he snapped his fingers. Cake was baked right in front of you. "I think now it's done."

"Tamlin.."

He turned you around and before you could say anything more he kissed you deeply. His tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring. Fingers of one of his hands threaded through your hair on the nape of the neck, supporting your head, the other hand travelled down your body and settling on your hip squeezed lightly. When he pulled away, he licked his lips and growled contentedly.

"Love, do you remember when I asked you for a few more days?"

"Yes, I do," you hummed, your head still spinning as an aftermath of his actions.

"It's over. I'm ready to show you. If you still want to know, of course."

You immediately agreed and Tamlin smirking winnowed you to the edge of the forest near his manor. He took your hand in his, squeezing it firmly.

"Would you take a walk with me?"

"And where are we going?"

He just laughed. "You will see soon, my love."

And so you followed him. As soon as you walked past the last of the trees, you got a view of his entire estate. You stopped in awe. Even from a far you could see the change. Gardens were clean and freshly planted, facade of the manor was repaired and painted, new windows reflected sunlight.

Your heart sank and you instantly felt sorry that you ever doubted him.

"Is this where you've been going all that time?" you whispered to the wind, tears stinging your eyes.

"Lucien helped a great deal, but I had to make sure everything will be perfect," he grinned down at you and tucked a strand of hair that had come loose from the braid, back behind your ear. "What do you think?"

"It looks much better now. I mean it's beautiful." You swallowed hard and turned to him. "I'm so sorry, Tamlin. I-"

He sealed his lips over yours, silencing you. His kiss was sweet and deep, but he didn't hurry with it, enjoying every second of it. By the time he pulled away, you were weak in your knees, only his arms around your waist still held you upright.

"I am sorry, my love. I wanted it to be a surprise, so I couldn't tell anything. I made you worried and sad because of that. I hope you could find it in yourself to forgive me."

You just shook your head, inhaling his scent and gently drawing circles on his back. You rested your head over his heart and the two of you stood there for some time holding each other, admiring the scenery. Then Tamlin took your hand once again and led you down the hill to the manor. He gave you a tour, starting in spacious gardens and then proceeded inside, showing you different sitting rooms, halls, ballrooms, picture gallery, dining rooms, kitchen and library and at last he showed you some of the smaller bedchambers.

After hours of walking around, at last he took you to the biggest bedchamber that occupied entire top floor. It was a bright complex of connected rooms with up to ceiling windows leading to a private balcony and furnished with light-coloured furniture with a lot of small details.

First you walked into a sitting room with a big hearth and a set of sofas and armchairs placed near it. In one corner of the room was a bookcase full of old looking books, in another was a small counter with everything necessary for making a tea. The room was simply furnished, yet elegant, plants and amounts of blankets and small pillows added to the overall cosy atmosphere that reminded you of your cottage.

Next to it was an actual bedroom. A large bed with cream-coloured sheets dominated to the room. Two sets of doors led to an enormous walk in closet and a bathroom with bathtub big enough for at least two people. Everything was airy, decorated with different kinds of flowers and plants, and overall pleasant to look at.

Tamlin nervously watched you while you took a look around, adding small comments about furnishing and decorations. At the end of the tour he took you out to the private balcony. The view from up there was magnificent. Most of the gardens were visible from there. You couldn't help yourself and got lost in that beauty.

Still nervous Tamlin stood next to you with a light smirk on lips and let you enjoy yourself. After a while he cleared his throat to pull your attention back to him. "So what do you think? Do you like it?"

"It's lovely, Tamlin. You did an amazing job on the house and the gardens as well. Everything is perfect." You chuckled at the word.

"Do you.. do you think you could live in here?" he nervously played with something in his hand, but you couldn't see what it was.

"Live in here? With you?"

"Yes, I mean.." he took your hand, got down on one knee and looked up at you. His emerald eyes shone in last rays of setting sun. He wet his lips nervously before he continued in a slightly trembling voice. "Will you do me the honor and marry me?"

He opened his hand, offering its content to you. In the center of his big palm sat a small heart shaped box with ring in it. It was a simple jewellery, but it perfectly matched the pendant he gave you before.

You let out a shuddering breath. "I-.. I thought you don't want to get married."

"I have to apologise for that. Again." His hand with ring dropped slightly. "I wasn't completely honest back then. And I'm sorry I hurt you. I really didn't mean to. I understand if you decide to reject me. But I want you to know.. You are.. my everything. Meeting you is the best thing that ever happened to me in my entire life. I want nothing more than for you to become my wife. I'd love to live the rest of my life with you by my side. That's the only thing I sincerely wish and pray for with all my heart."

You couldn't take it anymore, tears sliding down your face. You rushed to his open arms and hugged him with all your strength.

"Tamlin," you cried. "Yes! A thousand times yes!"

"Gods, thank you," he whispered to the crook of your neck and his arms closed around you.

You didn't know how long you stayed like that, crying and kissing and again crying. After some time Tamlin carried you to the set of sofas. The sun had already set below the horizon and temperature dropped. Tamlin wrapped a blanket around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side.

"Can I?" he asked, holding the delicate ring between fingers. You offered him your hand and he slipped it on your ring finger. You held your hand up so both of you could see it.

"It's perfectly perfect," you smiled at him.

He chuckled at your teasing remark.

"Yeah, perfectly perfect. But not as much as you," he kissed you.

Most of the night you spent sitting under the clear night sky full of shinning stars. Later you returned to your cottage to eat already cold dinner that you had prepared earlier, and went straight to the bed. That was the last night you slept in your small cottage in the woods.

Taglist:

@impossibelle @sevikas-whore @b0xerdancer @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @nocasdatsgay @yunloyal @nebarious @isabiss @st0rmyt @lilah-asteria @ubigaia @paleidiot @acourtofimagines @harahettania @talesofadragon @ceoofyearning @little-nightowl

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