befallenstars-archive

[befallenstars-archive]

EVIE!!!

It's been a while since I last read some fics and I saw this waiting in the drafts so I just had to pick it. Having your work as smth to get me back to reading is a very nice thing. I feel like I'm gonna have fun with this one!

As usual, looooots for yapping under the cut— bc it's me. When did I ever NOT yap?/lh

Dan Heng

"He wonders if this was truly the best course of action."

It's 3AM rn so lemme make sure I don't wake up my neighbors. I just know I'm in for an interesting ride.

“Hey.... stranger?” You're mumbling now, eyes locked on the floor, and his breath is stuck in his throat.

I had no idea alcohol induced memory loss. How do you forget a guy like that? Ouch. Poor Dan Heng/lh

“Here,” he turns around, lowering himself onto a knee to gesture for you to climb on. “I'll take you to your boyfriend.”

Aweee...I expected this is to be more comedic but I got a tad of comedic and some heartwarming vibes. Dan Heng's such a sweetheart!

Jing Yuan

“My boyfriend taught me how to fight, so don’t you even dare.”

The snort that I had to stop myself from letting out. No bc I'm thinking a reader that's completely flushed from being so drunk swaying to and fro while having their fists up in the air— HAHAHAHA THAT'S SO ADORABLE BYEEE

He blinks, once, twice — the hand gently patting your head a moment ago now entirely frozen in place. “Oh?”

The absolute mixed feelings I have for this man never seems to go away.

His hand finds its way back to you again, slower this time — traces over your cheek until he gently cups it in an effort to feel the warmth radiating from your skin. A chuckle almost betrays him and slips out at the sight of your eyes nearly fluttering shut, subconsciously leaning into his touch until you abruptly come back to your senses and swat at his hand.

IT'S TOO EARLY FOR ME TO JUST GO DYSFUNCTIONAL LIKE THIS. IM SHAKING YOU RN EVIE BC THIS IS JUST—

He smiles at you. “Hm. Your boyfriend — is that right?”

Is it wrong that I think THAT was attractive. Also bc his voice is just chef's kiss.

Your eyes narrow at the amusement in his voice, likely wondering why a stranger would be speaking to you so familiarly. “My boyfriend. The one with a suuuper heavy weapon that …. that you probably couldn’t pick up … with help.”

I— HAHAHAHAHA

PLEASE??? THIS IS TOO ADORABLE OF THE READER

You huff before deciding to face the opposite direction, all whilst scooting a secondary inch away from him. Perhaps a third, for extra measure.

Where are they even sitting at this point? Maybe I skipped it but I thought of a bench?? Like how long is that bench with the way reader is scooting away. Part of me is actually mentally preparing reader just accidentally falls over at the very edge HAHAHAHA

Mydei

(Ah, the infamous guy that has caused dysfunction to just about everyone on my dash)

Mydei only huffs in response before glancing over his shoulder from where you’re draped over his left like a sack of potatoes, quickly confirming that … as of now, you still seem content, at least.

I'M SORRY WHAT??

Where's the hi? Hello?? My name is??? Why is the reader just hoisted over this guy's shoulder like that—

So, he lets you talk, opting to silently listen to you ramble on about your day (aside from the occasional glances over his shoulder to check on you). It’s only when he hears a sudden shift in your voice that he stiffens.

I love yappy reader. The scenario is just so adorable??? Mydei who's just casually carrying the reader over his shoulder. Reader who's subjected him to listen to drunked yapping like it's just another regular night for her

He huffs. “No. He wouldn’t be mad. Not at you.”

Aweeee...okay, this made me wanna catch up with the game ngl

Phainon

(Yet another one of the hsr men that has caused some chaos on dash)

“Oh.” You hug your knees in disappointment to let out another heavy sigh, one far too telling of your emotions — practically seeping back into your lonely puddle when you realize that this person who had found you in your corner was also in fact… not your boyfriend.

THE WAY THAT I WAS READY TO THROW HANDS WITH HIM FOR MAKING THE READER SAD??? Like how dare he— and then the last part made me go "oh...she's just drunk" BUT HE BETTER DO SMTH

“Hmph,” you leer at him from where your head is halfway buried in your arms, knees hugged tightly against your chest. “I wanted to see my boyfriend, not some random person. I’m tired, y’know.”

Reader is simply too adorable (T ^ T)

“Obviously I’m certain,” You huff, ignoring the way he seems to look happier at this and hugging your knees even tighter against your chest. “I like being around him. A whole lot, actually.”

Awwweee...adorable AND sweet. Such a lovely combination quite honestly. Especially with the part where he looks a bit happier? Yeap, tugged right on my heart strings.

Sunday

“..Forgive me,” his eyes flicker from your hand to your eyes — then back to your hand. As if there may be a slim chance that you’ve simply forgotten about the ironclad grip on his wrist and would release him from his confinement, soon. Surely. “Then perhaps I should go get you a glass of wa—”

BAHAHHHAHAHAHA

POOR GUY???

I love how he's both unsure what to do but still doing his best. Also the way halovian wings flap!! Such an adorable imagery hehe

“You’re stuck with me until we find my boyfriend.”

NOT THE READER THREATENING (??) HIM—

TRYING TO TAKE YOU HOME WHEN YOU DON’T RECOGNIZE THEM. ft. dan heng, jing yuan, mydei, phainon, and sunday.

sfw. f!reader. in which the hsr men try their best to convince you that they really are your boyfriend and not a complete stranger trying to take you back home after a long night out.

cw for implied alcohol consumption. not mentioned otherwise — just the silly scenario where reader seemingly doesn’t recognize them upon first glance. prompt from anon on prev blog! fem!reader for all.

— DAN HENG.

He wonders if this was truly the best course of action.

“Give me back my jacket, you jerk...” your words come out slurred, barely mustering the strength needed to keep your hold on his sleeve as you trail behind him down the street.

His jacket — he'd usually correct you — but he doesn't this time, lest you eventually come to the conclusion that the mentioned jacket isn't even yours and therefore holds no importance.

“Soon. The agreement we settled on was that if you don't make a scene, I'll give it back.”

It sounds like a threat.

And if someone were to spot him now, this would certainly paint his image in a light that he would much rather not be perceived in, if given the choice.

He knows this all too well — apparent from the nervous sweat collecting along his temples and the frequent clearing of his throat whenever your grip begins to loosen, but you seem to only giggle at the statement now, eagerly nodding along.

“Really? You pinkie promise, stranger? I'll be reaaall quiet then.”

“Yes,” his brows furrow — from either stress or a sense of urgency that you don't seem to have, “I give you my word. So, please, keep your voice down and follow me.”

You respond with a cheerful hum before eventually falling silent again, the street quiet aside from the patter of your clumsy footsteps following closely behind his own.

Though it’s short-lived, much to Dan Heng’s misery.

Only about a minute or two goes by until you start to tug on his sleeve, and his heart nearly stops beating in his chest. Perhaps you’ve already realized. Or perhaps you’ve pegged him as a dangerous type of guy — which wouldn’t surprise him, given the circumstances.

“Hey…” you tug once more, even harder now, and then stop walking entirely — shifting your weight backwards to avoid being pulled straight into him.

Uh oh.

“Hey.... stranger?” You're mumbling now, eyes locked on the floor, and his breath is stuck in his throat.

“I'm sleepy.”

“You.. you want to sleep,” He repeats, still uncertain — his words coming off a bit too similar to that of a question. “Right now?”

You nod, hands coming to rub at your eyes, as if doing so could wipe away the sudden wave of drowsiness that has overtaken you. Though, your efforts prove to be futile in the end, with each blink becoming slower than the last.

“Yes,” you murmur, “Here. I'm going to nap … and then .. and then I need to find my boyfriend.”

Boyfriend. A part of him is relieved you remember, at least. Perhaps the other critical piece of information will find its way back to you soon as well.

Your eyes flutter back open when something familiar is draped across your shoulders. “Don't sleep here.”

“Here,” he turns around, lowering himself onto a knee to gesture for you to climb on. “I'll take you to your boyfriend.”

— JING YUAN.

“My boyfriend taught me how to fight, so don’t you even dare.”

He blinks, once, twice — the hand gently patting your head a moment ago now entirely frozen in place. “Oh?”

It makes sense as soon as you turn to glare at him. While he’s rather certain he hasn’t done anything to warrant such a look, another part of him — his heart, skips a happy beat over how adorable you look, even if you’re not smiling at him like usual.

“I see,” Jing Yuan continues again, only a moment later, taking a seat beside you (and choosing to ignore the way you make the conscious effort to scoot an inch away from him). Sassily so, he might add, similar to the way you so endearingly turn your body away from him and puff your cheek out when he’s teased you just a bit too much for your liking.

His hand finds its way back to you again, slower this time — traces over your cheek until he gently cups it in an effort to feel the warmth radiating from your skin. A chuckle almost betrays him and slips out at the sight of your eyes nearly fluttering shut, subconsciously leaning into his touch until you abruptly come back to your senses and swat at his hand.

He smiles at you. “Hm. Your boyfriend — is that right?”

Your eyes narrow at the amusement in his voice, likely wondering why a stranger would be speaking to you so familiarly. “My boyfriend. The one with a suuuper heavy weapon that …. that you probably couldn’t pick up … with help.”

“Ah, how admirable he must be. You have no need for worry — I would never dream of wielding such a weapon.”

You huff before deciding to face the opposite direction, all whilst scooting a secondary inch away from him. Perhaps a third, for extra measure.

“This boyfriend of yours,” he speaks again, holding back a chuckle when you dramatically sigh at the sound of his voice once again, “surely he wouldn’t mind someone like myself keeping you company until he returns, wouldn’t you think?”

“I have grown quite curious. Perhaps he would allow me to see this impressive weapon for myself.”

— MYDEI.

“Actually, you’re rather comfy, stranger.”

Mydei only huffs in response before glancing over his shoulder from where you’re draped over his left like a sack of potatoes, quickly confirming that … as of now, you still seem content, at least.

“I’ve told you before. I’m no stranger.” The singular arm currently holding your thighs to his chest tightens, and you only giggle against his back, arms freely dangling beneath you. “Yeah, yeah.”

You’ve been surprisingly cooperative. In fact, he thinks he should make a mental note to remind you about being less trusting of strangers tomorrow — because .. surely, it should not have been so easy to convince you that he could simply carry you to your ‘boyfriend.’

Even now, when he’s seemingly been reduced to nothing aside from a mere stranger, you’re as inviting and friendly to him as ever — mumbling something about his strength, followed by a worried “Hey but — let me know if you get tired or anything, okay?”

So, he lets you talk, opting to silently listen to you ramble on about your day (aside from the occasional glances over his shoulder to check on you). It’s only when he hears a sudden shift in your voice that he stiffens.

“Say…” you start, drawing patterns along his back with a finger, as if nervous about his response. “Do you think Mydei’s worried?”

“I don’t want to worry him,” he lets you continue, eyes shifting back to the path ahead of him. “What do you think, strong stranger? He won’t be mad, right? Or sad, maybe?”

He huffs. “No. He wouldn’t be mad. Not at you.”

— PHAINON.

“Oh.” You hug your knees in disappointment to let out another heavy sigh, one far too telling of your emotions — practically seeping back into your lonely puddle when you realize that this person who had found you in your corner was also in fact… not your boyfriend.

“‘Oh?’ Well, someone doesn’t sound very excited to see me.”

The stranger decides to approach you anyway, taking a seat on the tiles beside you before letting out an exhale himself, back of his head coming to lightly rest against the wall. “What’s on your mind?”

“Hmph,” you leer at him from where your head is halfway buried in your arms, knees hugged tightly against your chest. “I wanted to see my boyfriend, not some random person. I’m tired, y’know.”

“Your boyfriend? How strange.” The confusion starts to leave his face the longer he looks at you — lips curling ever so slightly at the idea that suddenly comes to mind.

“He must be cruel … to leave you here all by yourself.”

He almost slips and calls you cute when you stick an arm out to weakly jab a finger into his shoulder, turning your head to the side again to mutter a “Hey. He’s not cruel.”

Truly too cute — the way your eyes have narrowed into something resembling a glare — the same one you always give him whenever you scold him for being too careless. Though, it tends to fade as soon as it comes, replaced with soft kisses against the crown of his head as you lull him back to sleep.

“Aw,” He’s smiling now, “You’re certain he’s not cruel?”

“Obviously I’m certain,” You huff, ignoring the way he seems to look happier at this and hugging your knees even tighter against your chest. “I like being around him. A whole lot, actually.”

The way his eyes begin to soften at your (unintentional) affection most definitely wouldn’t go unnoticed by you, he’s sure, nor the way his hand twitches — wanting nothing but to extend in your direction to pull you in for a hug. Though, luckily enough for him, you’ve settled on resting your head in the comfort of your own arms again, oblivious to the lovesick one seated beside you.

“I’ll make sure to tell him again … when I see him. So let me be, you weird stranger.”

— SUNDAY.

If someone happened to be wondering whether a halovian’s wings flap awkwardly when rendered completely speechless — this would be their golden opportunity to witness it firsthand.

“M-my apologies,” his wings flutter again, then a third time when your hand only tightens around his wrist, eyes narrowing at him in suspicion. “Please excuse me. I was only checking for your temperature, since you seem to be rather…���

“No.” You don’t let go. In fact, you hold onto him as if you’ve just now captured a crook attempting to steal March’s snacks.

“..Forgive me,” his eyes flicker from your hand to your eyes — then back to your hand. As if there may be a slim chance that you’ve simply forgotten about the ironclad grip on his wrist and would release him from his confinement, soon. Surely. “Then perhaps I should go get you a glass of wa—”

“No.”

“…”

“I… I see.” The nervous flutter of his wings shifts to something more sheepish — one wing moving to cover his mouth, as if deep in thought. Which wouldn’t be far from the truth, for even someone such as himself is left dumbfounded by your current behavior. “Then.. is there anything you’d like for me to help with? Someone like March may be better suited for..”

“My boyfriend…” he falls silent as soon as you speak, noting the softness of your words now — barely above a hushed whisper (though the familiarity has him quickly perking up in response). “I want my boyfriend.”

His head tilts at this. Subtly. Truly confused — and even more so when your brows furrow only a second later, followed by a tug on his wrist. “I want my boyfriend.”

“You’re stuck with me until we find my boyfriend.”

[befallenstars-archive]

ZEBRA!!! YOU!!! THE WAY YOUR WRITE!!! I???

As usual, spoilers and lots of rambling under the cut!

The pomegranate skin tears beneath your hands, each seed plucked from the white membrane with a soft snap. The arils pop, bursting between your teeth before the seeds crack under the pressure.

I hope you know I would kill to be able to write the way you do. This is genuinely how we start this? With an absolute banger of a description??? I am all in now.

Your signature scent of vanilla and cinnamon sugar grows stronger as he finds you in the dining room, sitting at the table with a plate of the split open pomegranate before you. The seeds gleam a dark ruby under the steady, soft flames of the candles. You look up when he enters, a smile spreading across your face.

Please don't sue me for copyright with the way I might just end up copy-pasting your entire works onto this reblog bc every part is simply too good to ignore. Like excuse me??? May I know which demon you sold yourself to for you to write like this???

His eyes track your every movement as you pluck more pomegranate seeds, his predatory gaze cold and blue, yet you do not flinch under his stare. 

You write so good I started using my first language while losing it. There is truly something about the way you write that scratches my brain just right and I just malfunction entirely.

He continues to tell you about the fight as you eat the pomegranate. The seeds crunch and a pleased hum leaves your lips as the sweet and tart juice spreads across your tongue. His eyes darken at the noise.

I am slamming my hands on the table and walking out of the room. There will be muffled noises of screeching before I enter the room much more calmly to pick up this fic once more.

You don’t notice, only focused on the sound of his voice as you break off a new segment of pomegranate. As the flesh tears apart, your hand slips and a few arils burst under the pressure of your fingers. Dark red juice sprays across your skin and sinks under your nails. You let out a small huff of disappointment but carry on with eating the fruit. Each time you lift your hand up to your mouth with ruby kernels between your fingers, the droplets shift across your hand.

TAMA NA, PLEASE. HINDI KO NATALAGA ALAM KUNG PAANO PA MASASABI NA ANG GALING MO SA PAGSUSULAT MO, ZEBRA DJSBSISBS

NOT ME FINALLY USING FILIPINO BC I SIMPLY HAD TO LOSE IT IN BOTH LANGUAGES. AND THERE'S STILL MORE OF THIS.

...a deep red clinging to them in a way that makes him think of you eating—drinking—something else.

Listen here, Ze. I hope you realize and know and remember that your writing will always have me on a chokehold. The vividness of these descriptions are insane. It's like I can picture it in my mind in 16k HD Ultra. Every detail is laid out so well but not in an info-dumping kind of way that makes it so addicting and poetic all at once.

Oh, don't even get me started with the notions and themes of this one. It feels so *visceral* at this point that it should be illegal. I am trying to kick-start every single last of my brain cell to formulate the words on how to describe the way this passage makes me feel and I am actively failing at it.

Do. You. Understand.

Childe snaps.

Fuck, I would too.

Realization strikes and a coy smile curls at your lips. 

I combusted.

There’s a moment where he pauses. He takes a second to listen to the flutter of your heart, feeling the tremors of your pulse beneath his fingers. Though you look unaffected, your racing heartbeat betrays you. It pleases him immensely to know that he has this effect on you.

I am going insane. My brain cells have officially given up on me. What else can I say except that this is an absolute banger of a fic? Like vampires as a concept are already dark and sexy and mysterious but managed to take that and quadruple it. How? I have no fucking idea why. Excuse the language but I am at loss for words.

...He locks eyes with yours as he continues to follow the trail of red staining your skin, his tongue warm as he laps and licks, not just tasting the fruit but also tasting you.

Am I simping over the reader or Childe at this point? Yes.

When he reaches the back of your wrist, he unfurls his fingers and turns your arm so he can run his tongue over your pulse and the thin skin where your scent is stronger. 

This made me internally curse in Filipino. Wthout context to culture it would be offensive but I promise you that in this context I meant it as 100000% positive compliment.

The pomegranate juice is sweet and tangy. If he imagines hard enough, the tang can turn into a more metallic bite, as if you had just fed off of someone—as if you had fed off of him, it’s his blood trailing down your arm and staining your lips red. At that picture, Childe pulls back from you. A moan escapes him as his eyes flutter shut, breaking eye contact with you for the first time for a shiver to run through him.

I know I said I am at loss of words but kept rambling on but at this point I'm genuinely coming up blank. Zebra, I mean this as one of the best compliments I could ever give rn.

When he opens his eyes again, he finds you staring at him, eyes dark and wide, lips parted, enchanted by his beauty and in awe of the reaction you draw from him without having to do a thing.

There was a delay in my response after this bc I literally threw my phone out the window and had to get it back/lh

Fucking hell— I had a small crush on this man few years back. Don't bring it back with the way you write him.

Pulling your arm toward him, he lifts your hand to his mouth. His tongue laves across the back of your hand, tracing the trails of red weaving across your veins and tendons. He licks the webbing between your fingers, scraping his teeth over the flesh between your thumb and pointer finger. Then he cleans your fingers, one at a time, putting each one into his mouth and sucking gently as his tongue works over them. He spends extra time at your fingertips, licking at the nails that have been stained a deep red. Yours are so different from his own, he muses, filed blunt so you can work without the fear of breaking them.

I physically had my hand over my mouth as I read this. My only reaction was "Oh, my..." and I am so sorry for being so dysfunctional at the moment with these. Like what??? I— how? Uhm??? Ah??? Ha??? IDBSJDBSSJ

Finally, Childe pulls away. He is satisfied with how your hand is now clean, yet you’ve been turned into an utter mess. 

Wanna know what else is a mess rn— I'm gonna shut up actually. Yeah. Mnhmm...

He kisses your fingertips, then nips at the pad of your pointer finger. A whimper escapes your lips; the sound so sweet to his ears. You shift a bit more, so flustered under his piercing gaze as you struggle to come up with a response.

The main reason why I actually don't wanna start simping over this man is that I will never be content with the way anyone else writes him except you. I'm gonna feel like some homeless dog waiting at your doorstep day-in and day-out for some crumbs of your writing for him and giving you puppy eyes each time but also not wanting to pressure you or make you feel obligated ISBSJWJAISJA

The grin on Childe’s face is downright devious. He stands, moving before you so his legs bracket your knees as he leans over you. “Do what? I’m just kissing you.”

NO, YOU WERE NOT. YOU WERE—

“How was any of that kissing? You were devouring me!”

EXACTLY!!!

Childe closes the distance, lips slotting over your pomegranate-stained ones. And kiss you, he does.

I was silenced.

TO DEVOUR tartaglia x reader ✧ 1.3k words

childe would never wish the curse of being a vampire upon you. but you eating a pomegranate paints such a pretty picture that he can’t help but give in to some of his desires.

tags and warnings ✧ vampire!Childe, gender neutral reader (no pronouns used), he’s so obsessed with you, sfw but suggestive, finger sucking, he licks you. note ✧ hm. i’m having Tartaglia lick reader in a lot of my fics… um. anyway. this idea came to me as I was eating pomegranate last night! it falls after the events of my vampire!Childe fic (bloodlust!! blood…love?) coming on february 14th and since I couldn’t figure out how to put it into the fic, I’m sharing it separately. hope you enjoy!

vampire!Childe hears you before he sees you.

The pomegranate skin tears beneath your hands, each seed plucked from the white membrane with a soft snap. The arils pop, bursting between your teeth before the seeds crack under the pressure.

Your signature scent of vanilla and cinnamon sugar grows stronger as he finds you in the dining room, sitting at the table with a plate of the split open pomegranate before you. The seeds gleam a dark ruby under the steady, soft flames of the candles. You look up when he enters, a smile spreading across your face.

"Welcome back, Ajax. How was your day?"

He pulls out the chair beside you at the table, settling into the seat and resting his chin on his hand. His eyes track your every movement as you pluck more pomegranate seeds, his predatory gaze cold and blue, yet you do not flinch under his stare. 

“It was good! Very eventful,” he says.

There’s a satisfied curve to his lips. You raise an eyebrow, noting the healthier tint of pink beneath his skin as your fingers work to loosen some seeds. “Tell me, who had the misfortune of fighting you today?”

His smile turns into a full-blown grin. Of course you’d be able to tell. “It was a shapeshifter today. I don’t think I got to see its true form, but that doesn’t matter. The forms that it changed into during our fight were exhilarating enough!”

He continues to tell you about the fight as you eat the pomegranate. The seeds crunch and a pleased hum leaves your lips as the sweet and tart juice spreads across your tongue. His eyes darken at the noise.

You don’t notice, only focused on the sound of his voice as you break off a new segment of pomegranate. As the flesh tears apart, your hand slips and a few arils burst under the pressure of your fingers. Dark red juice sprays across your skin and sinks under your nails. You let out a small huff of disappointment but carry on with eating the fruit. Each time you lift your hand up to your mouth with ruby kernels between your fingers, the droplets shift across your hand.

Childe watches the deep red juice trail down the back of your hand, meandering past your wrist. It continues to slide down your arm, glistening and taunting him under the candlelight.

He fails to realize that he stopped talking until you hold your hand out toward him, a small pile of pomegranate seeds resting on your palm.

“Do you want some?” you offer.

“No,” Childe manages to push out.

The rough edge to his voice makes you study him, taking in the way his pupils have almost fully eclipsed his iris. He had been staring so intently at you eating your fruit that you thought he wanted some. “More for me, then.”

You lift your hand to your lips, tilting your head back to toss the palm full of arils into your mouth. When you pull your hand away, he notices that your lips are stained a few shades darker than they normally are, a deep red clinging to them in a way that makes him think of you eating—drinking—something else. The trail of pomegranate juice that has made its way down your arm beads at your elbow, before the droplet falls onto the table with the softest plop.

Childe snaps.

His hand flashes out, fingers curling around your wrist. 

You look down, eyes wide at the way his hand flexes as he battles his own strength and desires, his fingertips angling away from you to protect you from his too-sharp nails. Eyes moving up to his face, you see his gaze is fixated on the pomegranate juice dripping down your arm. 

Realization strikes and a coy smile curls at your lips. 

Leaning in toward him, so close that he can feel the faint brush of air against his skin, you whisper, “Are you sure you don’t want any, Ajax?”

His eyes snap up to yours, all dark depths of the sea. When you give permission in the slight incline of your head, he raises your arm and lowers his head.

There’s a moment where he pauses. He takes a second to listen to the flutter of your heart, feeling the tremors of your pulse beneath his fingers. Though you look unaffected, your racing heartbeat betrays you. It pleases him immensely to know that he has this effect on you.

Then, Childe opens his mouth. Sharp and elongated canines come into view before his tongue darts out to catch the pomegranate juice about to drip from your arm. He locks eyes with yours as he continues to follow the trail of red staining your skin, his tongue warm as he laps and licks, not just tasting the fruit but also tasting you.

When he reaches the back of your wrist, he unfurls his fingers and turns your arm so he can run his tongue over your pulse and the thin skin where your scent is stronger. 

The pomegranate juice is sweet and tangy. If he imagines hard enough, the tang can turn into a more metallic bite, as if you had just fed off of someone—as if you had fed off of him, it’s his blood trailing down your arm and staining your lips red. At that picture, Childe pulls back from you. A moan escapes him as his eyes flutter shut, breaking eye contact with you for the first time for a shiver to run through him.

When he opens his eyes again, he finds you staring at him, eyes dark and wide, lips parted, enchanted by his beauty and in awe of the reaction you draw from him without having to do a thing.

He flashes you a satisfied smile, showing gratitude for letting him indulge in his vampire instincts. Childe will make it worth your while.

Pulling your arm toward him, he lifts your hand to his mouth. His tongue laves across the back of your hand, tracing the trails of red weaving across your veins and tendons. He licks the webbing between your fingers, scraping his teeth over the flesh between your thumb and pointer finger. Then he cleans your fingers, one at a time, putting each one into his mouth and sucking gently as his tongue works over them. He spends extra time at your fingertips, licking at the nails that have been stained a deep red. Yours are so different from his own, he muses, filed blunt so you can work without the fear of breaking them.

Finally, Childe pulls away. He is satisfied with how your hand is now clean, yet you’ve been turned into an utter mess. 

Your face feels too hot and you’re squirming in your seat. He can hear your heart fluttering away in your chest, sees how your shoulders rise and fall as you take shallow, rapid breaths.

He can’t help but tease you more. “What’s the matter, hm?”

He kisses your fingertips, then nips at the pad of your pointer finger. A whimper escapes your lips; the sound so sweet to his ears. You shift a bit more, so flustered under his piercing gaze as you struggle to come up with a response.

Finally, you manage to piece together a stammering, “W-what has gotten into you? You can’t just- you can’t do this to me!”

The grin on Childe’s face is downright devious. He stands, moving before you so his legs bracket your knees as he leans over you. “Do what? I’m just kissing you.”

“How was any of that kissing? You were devouring me!” Your eyes nearly cross as he slides a hand behind your neck and tilts your head back, his face hovering over yours with dark ocean eyes dancing in delight.

“Was I? Let me kiss you too, then.”

Childe closes the distance, lips slotting over your pomegranate-stained ones. And kiss you, he does.

note ✧ ahhhh I'm so •///• this man makes me sooooo unwell. writing this vampire au is making me lose it!!!! btw please forgive the inconsistent fic layouts, I'm still trying to find something I'm happy with ahh.

a little bit of writing trivia: I wanted to focus a lot on sound in the opening, because that’s a sense that has changed for Childe since he became a vampire. there also isn't too explicit of a mention that he's envisioning you as a vampire but I hope that still came through. I also didn’t want to mention the word “blood” until he’s imagining you feeding off of his blood. hehe c:

reblogs and comments are much appreciated; i'd love to know your thoughts on this!

[befallenstars-archive]

TO DEVOUR tartaglia x reader ✧ 1.3k words

childe would never wish the curse of being a vampire upon you. but you eating a pomegranate paints such a pretty picture that he can’t help but give in to some of his desires.

tags and warnings ✧ vampire!Childe, gender neutral reader (no pronouns used), he’s so obsessed with you, sfw but suggestive, finger sucking, he licks you. note ✧ hm. i’m having Tartaglia lick reader in a lot of my fics… um. anyway. this idea came to me as I was eating pomegranate last night! it falls after the events of my vampire!Childe fic (bloodlust!! blood…love?) coming on february 14th and since I couldn’t figure out how to put it into the fic, I’m sharing it separately. hope you enjoy!

vampire!Childe hears you before he sees you.

The pomegranate skin tears beneath your hands, each seed plucked from the white membrane with a soft snap. The arils pop, bursting between your teeth before the seeds crack under the pressure.

Your signature scent of vanilla and cinnamon sugar grows stronger as he finds you in the dining room, sitting at the table with a plate of the split open pomegranate before you. The seeds gleam a dark ruby under the steady, soft flames of the candles. You look up when he enters, a smile spreading across your face.

"Welcome back, Ajax. How was your day?"

He pulls out the chair beside you at the table, settling into the seat and resting his chin on his hand. His eyes track your every movement as you pluck more pomegranate seeds, his predatory gaze cold and blue, yet you do not flinch under his stare. 

“It was good! Very eventful,” he says.

There’s a satisfied curve to his lips. You raise an eyebrow, noting the healthier tint of pink beneath his skin as your fingers work to loosen some seeds. “Tell me, who had the misfortune of fighting you today?”

His smile turns into a full-blown grin. Of course you’d be able to tell. “It was a shapeshifter today. I don’t think I got to see its true form, but that doesn’t matter. The forms that it changed into during our fight were exhilarating enough!”

He continues to tell you about the fight as you eat the pomegranate. The seeds crunch and a pleased hum leaves your lips as the sweet and tart juice spreads across your tongue. His eyes darken at the noise.

You don’t notice, only focused on the sound of his voice as you break off a new segment of pomegranate. As the flesh tears apart, your hand slips and a few arils burst under the pressure of your fingers. Dark red juice sprays across your skin and sinks under your nails. You let out a small huff of disappointment but carry on with eating the fruit. Each time you lift your hand up to your mouth with ruby kernels between your fingers, the droplets shift across your hand.

Childe watches the deep red juice trail down the back of your hand, meandering past your wrist. It continues to slide down your arm, glistening and taunting him under the candlelight.

He fails to realize that he stopped talking until you hold your hand out toward him, a small pile of pomegranate seeds resting on your palm.

“Do you want some?” you offer.

“No,” Childe manages to push out.

The rough edge to his voice makes you study him, taking in the way his pupils have almost fully eclipsed his iris. He had been staring so intently at you eating your fruit that you thought he wanted some. “More for me, then.”

You lift your hand to your lips, tilting your head back to toss the palm full of arils into your mouth. When you pull your hand away, he notices that your lips are stained a few shades darker than they normally are, a deep red clinging to them in a way that makes him think of you eating—drinking—something else. The trail of pomegranate juice that has made its way down your arm beads at your elbow, before the droplet falls onto the table with the softest plop.

Childe snaps.

His hand flashes out, fingers curling around your wrist. 

You look down, eyes wide at the way his hand flexes as he battles his own strength and desires, his fingertips angling away from you to protect you from his too-sharp nails. Eyes moving up to his face, you see his gaze is fixated on the pomegranate juice dripping down your arm. 

Realization strikes and a coy smile curls at your lips. 

Leaning in toward him, so close that he can feel the faint brush of air against his skin, you whisper, “Are you sure you don’t want any, Ajax?”

His eyes snap up to yours, all dark depths of the sea. When you give permission in the slight incline of your head, he raises your arm and lowers his head.

There’s a moment where he pauses. He takes a second to listen to the flutter of your heart, feeling the tremors of your pulse beneath his fingers. Though you look unaffected, your racing heartbeat betrays you. It pleases him immensely to know that he has this effect on you.

Then, Childe opens his mouth. Sharp and elongated canines come into view before his tongue darts out to catch the pomegranate juice about to drip from your arm. He locks eyes with yours as he continues to follow the trail of red staining your skin, his tongue warm as he laps and licks, not just tasting the fruit but also tasting you.

When he reaches the back of your wrist, he unfurls his fingers and turns your arm so he can run his tongue over your pulse and the thin skin where your scent is stronger. 

The pomegranate juice is sweet and tangy. If he imagines hard enough, the tang can turn into a more metallic bite, as if you had just fed off of someone—as if you had fed off of him, it’s his blood trailing down your arm and staining your lips red. At that picture, Childe pulls back from you. A moan escapes him as his eyes flutter shut, breaking eye contact with you for the first time for a shiver to run through him.

When he opens his eyes again, he finds you staring at him, eyes dark and wide, lips parted, enchanted by his beauty and in awe of the reaction you draw from him without having to do a thing.

He flashes you a satisfied smile, showing gratitude for letting him indulge in his vampire instincts. Childe will make it worth your while.

Pulling your arm toward him, he lifts your hand to his mouth. His tongue laves across the back of your hand, tracing the trails of red weaving across your veins and tendons. He licks the webbing between your fingers, scraping his teeth over the flesh between your thumb and pointer finger. Then he cleans your fingers, one at a time, putting each one into his mouth and sucking gently as his tongue works over them. He spends extra time at your fingertips, licking at the nails that have been stained a deep red. Yours are so different from his own, he muses, filed blunt so you can work without the fear of breaking them.

Finally, Childe pulls away. He is satisfied with how your hand is now clean, yet you’ve been turned into an utter mess. 

Your face feels too hot and you’re squirming in your seat. He can hear your heart fluttering away in your chest, sees how your shoulders rise and fall as you take shallow, rapid breaths.

He can’t help but tease you more. “What’s the matter, hm?”

He kisses your fingertips, then nips at the pad of your pointer finger. A whimper escapes your lips; the sound so sweet to his ears. You shift a bit more, so flustered under his piercing gaze as you struggle to come up with a response.

Finally, you manage to piece together a stammering, “W-what has gotten into you? You can’t just- you can’t do this to me!”

The grin on Childe’s face is downright devious. He stands, moving before you so his legs bracket your knees as he leans over you. “Do what? I’m just kissing you.”

“How was any of that kissing? You were devouring me!” Your eyes nearly cross as he slides a hand behind your neck and tilts your head back, his face hovering over yours with dark ocean eyes dancing in delight.

“Was I? Let me kiss you too, then.”

Childe closes the distance, lips slotting over your pomegranate-stained ones. And kiss you, he does.

note ✧ ahhhh I'm so •///• this man makes me sooooo unwell. writing this vampire au is making me lose it!!!! btw please forgive the inconsistent fic layouts, I'm still trying to find something I'm happy with ahh.

a little bit of writing trivia: I wanted to focus a lot on sound in the opening, because that’s a sense that has changed for Childe since he became a vampire. there also isn't too explicit of a mention that he's envisioning you as a vampire but I hope that still came through. I also didn’t want to mention the word “blood” until he’s imagining you feeding off of his blood. hehe c:

reblogs and comments are much appreciated; i'd love to know your thoughts on this!

[befallenstars-archive]

bakugou x f!reader. part 1 of a mini series called by heart. cw: mentions of alcohol, implied sexual content, weddings. | word count: 1.7k, reading time: ~10 minutes

For Katsuki Bakugou, the act of participating as a groomsman is as much fulfilling his duty as donning his suit and gauntlets to patrol the streets of Musutafu is. It’s natural and reflexive, he can handle the stress with little effort. Always responsible and on time, he has been asked several times despite his attitude because of his impeccable ability to keep things moving if they’re breaking down.

That being said, his designation as Best Man instead of a simple groomsman as a member of the Midoriya grooms party has been a different animal entirely.

The changes in his nice and comfy usual role started with requesting he arrive a day earlier than the other guests or party members, throwing off his schedule even if he knew about it ahead of time. Everything in his life is scheduled, planned, and measured including how many days he needs to request off to meet his own internal rules. Ideally this is no days off yet somehow this task has required an extra day compared to what he usually days.

Then he was told about the other duties - welcoming the families of Mr. and soon to be Mrs. Midoriya alike as they arrive at the hotel, ring keeping, disciplining, and the thing he’s looking forward to the least.

“Walking the maid of honor during the procession. And also if you’re feeling really generous and want to make sure your good friend has a great wedding, keeping her in line.”

Deku didn't have to say your name for him to know you were the one to whom he was referring.

“Is it really her?” Bakugou asked, unable to temper his annoyance though his lifelong friend would’ve picked up on it regardless.

“Who else would it be? They’re best friends, it would be like me being told that you couldn’t be my best man.”

This makes six out of six weddings the two of you have been paired up. Iida, Kirishima, Ashido, Todoroki, Yaoyorozu, and now Midoriya. It’s not a coincidence the two of you received your respective promotions for this event given your relationships to the bride and groom it just feels strange.

It’s not that he hates you or even dislikes you, it’s that things are just…kind of complicated. Nothing he feels for you is anything close to hatred. It’s what confuses him so badly about it because he should. You’re loud and messy and incredibly nosy and demand everyone’s attention when you walk into the room and your laugh is contagious and really you’re just an absolute pain in his ass he was hoping to be free of for one measly matrimonial weekend.

Since that day he’s been dreading what’s next to come despite how happy he is that his best friend has finally convinced the brilliant, compassionate stunner who puts up with him to do it forever. It felt and continues to feel like a huge dick move for him to say anything about so he’s kept his mouth shut.

Time passed in a flash and now that the day has finally come, arriving at the hotel hours later than originally anticipated hasn’t helped with the nerves that he swears he isn’t feeling.

Thankfully no additional issues popped up while getting off of the plane. Traffic on the way here was light. The cab driver had no desire to make small talk with him. Check-in was already completed before the glass doors could automatically part and welcome him into a gleaming lobby and onto a clean elevator that rides alone and that drops him directly on the 33rd floor.

It’s here that he breathes a sigh of relief. Nothing is unsalvageable today even if it got off to a rocky start. Things are going to be alright.

At least until he hears that sound.

Your laugh.

It permeates every single corner of the long marble hallway separating hotel suites and smaller single rooms alike. It echoes and bounces and shifts the world on its axis every time he hears it. Katsuki swallows through the tilt, clenching his fist around the carrying handle of the rolling suitcase it holds. His feet hurry toward room 3304. You offer a little goodbye to whoever you were talking to, footsteps thumping against the carpeted floor below them as you continue toward what assumes is his end of the hallway.

“God damn it,” he mutters under his breath, reaching into his pocket to dig for the keycard he was handed at the front as soon as he arrives at his destination. Perhaps if he’s really lucky he can make it inside before you catch sight of him, before you say his name and demand his time and fuck his night up before it even begins.

This evening’s plans are as follows: taking a long and thorough shower after spending nearly half a day on an airplane, nap for no longer than 30 minutes to recharge in preparation for the first celebratory dinner of what will be multiple over the next four days, and return to his hotel room before midnight and very much alone ready to sleep until his alarm goes off tomorrow morning so he can go for a run with Izuku before everyone communes again for brunch.

The less deviation there is from this plan, the better it is for everyone involved. It seems like everyone involved with this wedding and the others that have come before it has managed to finally accept this aspect of Bakugou’s personality besides you. His digging search becomes frantic the closer he hears your footsteps come and just when he thinks he can make it without being seen, you wordlessly slide up to Room 3302. Right next to him.

“Hiya neighbor.”

Actually, nothing from this day is worth saving. If the flight delay didn’t do him in, sharing a wall with you certainly will before the weekend is over.

“Uh hey,” he mutters back stiffly.

It’s still a strange comfort that while all of his and your friends get married off and start their families and build their lives that it will always be you and him starring as the lone wolves who are bound to be paired up in every wedding party for all eternity. While he’s never really been sure if it’s simply because you’re both single or if there is other meddling it’s something he has come to expect all the same. Even if the two of you have a pair of axes to grind.

Sighing, he slips his card into the lock and the light turns green. Turning to look at you he finds you already doing the same with a smile he should probably feel more irritation toward seeing on your face. Garnet colored eyes slip from your smile down to your hand and where it inserts the key into the door, repeating the steps he just completed. No ring, no indication that you have anyone waiting for you back at home.

The knowledge that you are likely still potentially single brings a sense of peace to the man, a feeling one could even call relief if they were feeling brave enough to confront their emotions to begin with.

“Don’t make me regret sharing this wall with you,” he finally says after an extremely loaded period of silence.

You giggle, mirthful and light and he wishes the ground would stop shifting, his hand now clutching the doorknob tightly while the edge of the keycard digs into his palm.

“What makes you say that?” A pout crosses your clever mouth, side leaning against the door to your room. “Do you regret other things you’ve shared with me?”

This is exactly why he was hoping not to see you. Dropping the knob, his hand finds its way to his face and he scrubs his palm down the length of it with a groan.

The souring that led to whatever rotten interaction is happening in this hallway right now began over Yaoyorozu’s wedding weekend last summer.

That sounds very dramatic. However, in both you and Katsuki’s defense, this situation is pretty dramatic. Two attractive, single people and endlessly flowing alcohol sharing a kiss that turned into more kissing which turned into carpet burns on your knees that you couldn’t get rid of for a month after the event occurred wouldn’t usually create this much issue especially after taking into consideration that you are both fully grown adults well into your lives.

The drama arrives at the party when you are reminded that you’ve known in your heart for as long as you’ve known him, Katsuki Bakugou isn’t a man who merely hooks up. He treats people more carefully than that, even delicate in the way he’s responded to your own shameless attempts to get him to flirt with you over the course of six wedding parties in as many years.

You certainly thought he wasn’t this type until he not only hooked up with you, he left before what happened the evening prior could even be discussed. You woke up to a dry mouth, pounding head, and empty bed with no trace of blonde hair or scarred torso left behind. It’s the sole reason why you’re gripping the handle of your own suitcase so tightly your knuckles are turning white, practically burning holes into him with your angry, weighty glance.

“Do you mind if we talk more later? I’m tired from the flight.”

He doesn’t meet your eyes when he asks. You roll yours and that laugh he’s so shaken by regularly becomes something a little jilted, harsh and nasally in its near snort-like form when you let it loose.

“Yeah, if you want. I mean you have had a whole year to clear the air so why not wait until two nights before we have no choice but to be amicable to do it?”

Ah yes. Now he meets your gaze, nodding silently. It’s not shocking that you’re upset, only that you’re still this upset.

“We’ll talk later.”

You don’t bother to argue knowing you’ll never win one against him. It also doesn’t help that he immediately flung the door to his room open and stomped inside, punctuating his sentence with a slamming door.

Rolling your eyes, you finish your safe entry into your own room and begin to dread what the future has in store for you.

[befallenstars-archive]

This'll be the first time that I read one of your works, Ze! Hope you don't mind me yapping. It's recently become a small routine/habit of mine🫂

Spoilers and lots of yapping under the cut!

I wanna start off with the tags. My reaction was pretty normal until I read the "(ajax licks) blood and tears". Was I deterred? No, I was invested. Oh, my...all enemies and no lovers??? Tension only??? I just know this'll be good.

Brb, I'll listen to the song first...

Huh, I'd definitely trust your music taste.

The snow falls thick and fast, yet the village continues to burn. Screams and shouts of villagers, mixed with the clashing of metal, rise above the roar of devouring flames of blue.

Okay! We're diving straight into this. Love that actually.

Those who fail to meet the fae’s standards are left alone, shivering and watching in the cold. 

I GOT GOOSEBUMPS.

The way you write scratches my brain just right. Even better that your style of writing genuinely matches the overall dark vibe you're going for. I can literally feel it in my bones.

Gently grabbing your shoulders before shaking you bc I fell in love at first work with your writing. I need to read more of your works, Ze! Omg, why did it take so long before my dash gifted me with it? I should've looked for it myself!

Sorry, just not-so casually a sucker for your writing style.

It is the most luxurious piece of clothing you own; a beautiful dark green cloth lined with fur, decorated by unfinished hand-embroidered leaves and flowers and bunnies—a project you’ve been chipping away at this winter.

I already noticed this with the way you described the horses but there's truly just something about the way you do it. Like I can oh so easily imagine whatever it is you are narrating

I LOVE THE TINY DETAILS

Snowflakes continue to fall, decorating your hair and eyelashes with diamonds, while the shoulders of your cloak become dusted in sugar. 

Is it bad to say that I wanna eat your fics? (affectionately(?))

The snow dances around you and you can’t help but indulge in a spin, cloak sweeping out around you in a swirl of deep green. Your huff of laughter is stolen by the wind, but the delight within you remains.

I think I fell in love—

You have a writing style that gives me fairy tale kind of vibes. Even if it's dark. It would be so fun reading this out loud with theatrics and some drama.

In my head? I'm doing just that. It is so good.

...

All of this is so good that I can't pick one line and yap about.

You know he is fae right away by his unnatural beauty. His hair glimmers a coppery orange under the light of the full moon, all windswept and dusted in snow. His eyes seem to glow as they scan you from head to toe, a blue just a shade darker than that of the flames destroying the village. Ears taper into a fine point and from his left one dangles a deep red crystal that only makes you think of blood. He smiles, then, as you observe him. His canines are sharp and long, like that of a fox, and you are frozen with wide, shining eyes of a bunny.

GODS

WHAT I WOULDN'T GIVE TO HAVE THE ABILITY TO WRITE A SCENE THE WAY YOU DO—

IT'S JUST SO???? I CANT EVEN DO JUSTICE TO DESCRIBE IT. I SINCERELY APOLOGIZE.

You don’t think he’s talking solely about the snow. 

I am so deeply immersed in this fic that I physically swallowed when I read this.

He laughs, throwing his head back as the sound erupts from his throat. “Oh, you shouldn’t have done that,” he says, his breath beading in the winter air.

...For the love of— I have thoughts but I shan’t say them out loud for propriety's sake.

He had not intended to take you back to the fae realm, but then you had to go and run.

THAT WAS FOUL

“Ouch,” the fae calls after you. His voice is loud and clear, and you know he’s only getting closer. “Don’t hurt yourself too much trying to escape, okay?”

🙂💢

I dunno, there was something about this that just got on my nerves.

...

It was not in 2025 bingo card to find myself having a tiny crush on this man AGAIN.

What in the sadomasochism...

Nope. No. Bye—

“Are you done?” he asks, amusement coloring his tone. “If not, I can do this all night.”

I just want to be slightly violent. Just a bit.

...and you realize you are at this fae’s mercy, pinned like a prized butterfly in a collection; all pretty and helpless, on display for him to study.

Mnh...yes...I am...slightly dysfunctional.

Sitting in my chair with my back slightly hunched and a hand over my lips as I question myself.

“Try that again, I dare you.” His voice is rough and yet it doesn’t sound like a threat.

......................

Zipping my mouth closed.

...the sensation of your nails digging into his abdomen is not one he’ll forget anytime soon.

What if I actually lose it?

Mnh? Ze? Will you take accountability?!

He tastes the lie and grins. “That’s not true now, is it?”

Okay, I am brought by to sanity by the genuine question of what the hell does a lie taste like?

Ajax is enchanted. Has he ever seen a human so beautiful?

And I am back to the edge of my sanity. Lovely.

His groan of delight is overlapped by your whimper, the cut on your cheek stinging as fear flows through your veins.

...slamming my head on the table right now.

What— no, I?? This is...am I really? No...what? Hahaha. That's not...maybe?

Ajax grins, taking in the vision before him. “You’re perfect.”

I'm going insane.

Okay, the note was really cute tho??? I'm sorry but I imagine it in a chibi kind of style where Targtaglia's standing by the door while reader collects their stuff. Maybe doggo will betray the reader by being nice to Tartraglia, who absolutely eats it up when the reader glares at both him and the dog.

EASY ON THE EYES, EASIER TO HATE. tartaglia x reader ✧ 2.7k words

when the fae raid your village to take humans into their realm, you think you’ll be safe in the woods. but you run into a fae who introduces himself as tartaglia and realize it might have been safer for you to stay at home.

tags and warnings ✧  fae!tartaglia, gender neutral reader (no pronouns used), reader sews and tailors clothes for a living, the fae are pretty brutal, mentions of violence, (ajax licks) blood and tears, chasing (predator prey dynamic), manhandling, all enemies and no lovers (only tension oops). note ✧ this is a darker fic compared to most of my writing; please let me know if I need to tag anything else! title inspired by the song "psycho" by taylor acorn. a gift for @cruel-hiraeth for teahouse's secret santa! happy new year, kae! i hope this fic helps you start off the year right by loving hating tartaglia >u< this was lots of fun to write hehe and got a little long because the au ran away from me... i hope you enjoy! love you lots <3

The snow falls thick and fast, yet the village continues to burn. Screams and shouts of villagers, mixed with the clashing of metal, rise above the roar of devouring flames of blue.

The fae are here.

They pull people out of their beds, pushing them into the streets. Turn their faces toward the light of a burning house—looking for the beautiful humans, still young and nimble. Or searching for evidence of skill in the arts; a pretty face matters little if one can produce beautiful things in ways that the fae cannot. Those who fail to meet the fae’s standards are left alone, shivering and watching in the cold. 

The humans the fae deem acceptable meet a much worse fate. They are picked up and thrown in the back of carts, drawn by horses with ears too long and manes too wild, their coats unusually glossy and vibrant. The chosen who try to escape are bound with rope that cruelly digs into skin. Those who try to fight are taken down brutally, then laughed at as they writhe on the ground—though the fae make sure no permanent damage is done, for that would defeat the purpose of the raid.

A fae bearing a torch of blue flames brings it up to the walls of each house of those who have been chosen. The blue catches on the wood unnaturally quickly, spreading with a voracious hunger despite the wind and snow. Within the hour, nothing will remain besides a pile of ash. 

But by then, the fae and the chosen villagers will be long gone.

You are lucky that sleep is so elusive tonight.

Earlier, after tossing and turning in bed for ages, you give up on trying to fall asleep. It is hard to leave your dog who has curled up beside you in a ball of white fluff, but you press a kiss between her ears before changing into some warmer layers. You sweep a thick winter cloak over your shoulders. It is the most luxurious piece of clothing you own; a beautiful dark green cloth lined with fur, decorated by unfinished hand-embroidered leaves and flowers and bunnies—a project you’ve been chipping away at this winter. Putting on boots that have long since been molded to the shape of your feet, you leave your house to catch some fresh air and possibly tire yourself out along the way.

The blanket of pure white is beautiful. The full moon makes everything glitter as snow stretches from the outskirts of the village into the forests beyond. Snowflakes continue to fall, decorating your hair and eyelashes with diamonds, while the shoulders of your cloak become dusted in sugar. 

It is so quiet out here. The whistling of the wind and the thoughts in your head are the only sounds you hear. You are used to this, though. Every day you sew and tailor clothes in the back of the village’s clothing store, often alone for hours on end with nothing but your thoughts for company.

A strong gust of wind rocks you on your feet. Clutching your cloak tighter and tossing the fur-lined hood up over your head, you turn your back on the forest to face the trail of footsteps you’ve made through the snow. You should head home.

Still, you take your time approaching the village. The snow dances around you and you can’t help but indulge in a spin, cloak sweeping out around you in a swirl of deep green. Your huff of laughter is stolen by the wind, but the delight within you remains.

Then the first scream rips through the night.

You freeze. Scanning the houses on the outskirts of the village reveals no dangers.

Another cry follows the first and you know something must be terribly wrong. 

You start running toward the village, kicking up snow as your mind races. Perhaps someone is getting robbed—but no one in town would dare. Or based on the growing amount of cries and shouts, maybe something happened that has injured a lot of people. A fire?

As you make it to the buildings, you see that you are right. Fire engulfs one of the homes on the far side of town, the flames reaching for the sky. A shudder runs through you at the sight, for the flames are unnaturally blue, and though this is the first time you’ve seen such a thing, you have heard of the stories and warnings about the cyan fire and those that accompany it.

You will not let the fae take you.

Whirling around, you sprint for the woods. The screams of the other villagers ring in your ears, but you know it is impossible for you to take on a single fae, let alone an army of them. They are here to steal humans away. For what, you’re not sure, but it can’t be for anything good. Though you doubt they would choose to take you, the best way to make sure you can see the sunrise tomorrow is to hide in the woods and avoid them all.

Reaching the treeline seems to take ages. You keep looking over your shoulder as you run, half expecting to have been spotted, but you only see more and more flames of blue burning houses to the ground.

Your heart skips a beat at the thought of your home being set ablaze—your dog!—but then you remember the fae only burn the houses of the humans they take and relief washes over you.

With your thoughts consumed by the safety of your dog, you don’t notice that you have slowed, trying to catch your breath in the midst of the trees. Nor do you notice that you aren’t alone anymore, until the newcomer starts speaking.

“My, my. Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

Dread sinks like a stone in your stomach. You spin, eyes wide as they land on the source of those playful and teasing words, leaning against a nearby tree with his arms crossed.

You know he is fae right away by his unnatural beauty. His hair glimmers a coppery orange under the light of the full moon, all windswept and dusted in snow. His eyes seem to glow as they scan you from head to toe, a blue just a shade darker than that of the flames destroying the village. Ears taper into a fine point and from his left one dangles a deep red crystal that only makes you think of blood. He smiles, then, as you observe him. His canines are sharp and long, like that of a fox, and you are frozen with wide, shining eyes of a bunny.

He hums and tilts his head. It is then that you remember he asked a question, and your throat works to find your voice to answer him. “I was out for a stroll,” you manage to say, words somehow steady despite your fluttering pulse.

It’s a half-truth, but half-truths are half-lies, and there’s the slightest hint of bitterness in the back of Ajax’s throat that always accompanies humans’ lies. “Oh, really? And was that before or after we made our presence known?”

“Before, actually,” you tell him honestly. “I couldn’t sleep so I decided to take a walk. The snow is beautiful and the moon is bright—it’s pretty, is it not?” If you talk enough, maybe he’ll lose interest so you can make a run for it. You don’t know much about fae, but with the way he’s dressed in nicer clothing than what most men in your village wear, surely he won’t care for running through the snowy forest.

He smiles. “It is pretty.” His eyes refuse to leave your frame, and a shiver runs through you. You don’t think he’s talking solely about the snow. 

Pushing off the tree, he takes a few steps forward, nearly silent despite the boots he wears. He stops when you stiffen, clutching your cloak tighter in your hands. “Where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Tartaglia,” he says, picking one of his many names to give you. “And you are?”

You press your lips together and force a smile. Even you know not to give the fae your name, no matter how much of a gentleman he is pretending to be. Your stomach rolls, unease making your heart rate pick up again. “I’m-” You see the way he perks up in interest, expecting a name. “I’m leaving,” you spit out, turn on your heels, and run.

Ajax watches you leave, the green of your cloak billowing out behind you like a rabbit’s tail inviting him to chase. He laughs, throwing his head back as the sound erupts from his throat. “Oh, you shouldn’t have done that,” he says, his breath beading in the winter air.

He had not intended to take you back to the fae realm, but then you had to go and run. And he wouldn’t dare to let all your hard work go to waste—so he’ll participate in the delightful hunt you’ve set up for him.

The ground is uneven beneath your feet. It is hard to tell where the tree roots are under the thick layer of snow and each breath of air feels like tiny needles stabbing your lungs. But you push on, feet pounding as quickly as you can force yourself to go.

You want to be as far away from that fae as you can get. He had not looked like he was going to chase you when you last saw him, laughing as you ran away, but there was a look in his eyes that pushed you to keep running.

When you toss a quick glance over your shoulder, your breath hitches and terror rushes through you.

He’s there. In the distance, but you can see him, weaving through the trees at an inhuman pace, his long legs carrying him far. He is gaining on you and you fear what he will do when he catches you.

You push yourself to run even harder, but your legs burn and your throat feels tight. In your haste, you fail to see the lower hanging branches of a nearby tree. A cry tears from your lips as a thin branch slices through the skin of your cheek, but you barely feel the pain with your face nearly frozen from the cold.

“Ouch,” the fae calls after you. His voice is loud and clear, and you know he’s only getting closer. “Don’t hurt yourself too much trying to escape, okay?”

Through your huffs for air, you manage to shout back at him. “Piss off! Leave me alone!”

Ajax grins, closing the distance. “I don’t think I will,” he says.

He lunges forward and grabs a fistful of your cloak. You stumble from the pull, tripping over your feet. He uses the momentum to spin you around, pushing you backward until you hit a tree, forcing the air from your lungs. His body presses against yours right after, caging you in with one leg wedged between your own.

“Let go of me!” you shout, slamming your fists into his chest. You try shoving all of your weight into him but he simply presses back harder until his chest is flush against yours. 

He laughs—laughs!—as you struggle against him, kicking and yelling and throwing your weight from side to side. He does not budge at all under the onslaught. You do everything you can, but only wear yourself out, leaning back against the tree to catch your breath.

“Are you done?” he asks, amusement coloring his tone. “If not, I can do this all night.”

His reaction makes your blood boil, most of your fear buried beneath anger. You glare down past his arm that still grips your cloak and catch sight of a sliver of pale skin peeking through the folds of his clothes. Moving your gaze back up to his face, you spit out, “I hope you die.”

And then you dig your nails into the exposed skin of his stomach, sink your teeth into the arm holding onto your cloak, and shove with all your might.

Ajax stumbles backward. 

You rip yourself out of his hold, twist your body to the side, taking one step forward, free-

Arms wrap around your waist and throw you back toward the tree. Your feet catch on his boot, making you lose your balance, perfect for Ajax to maneuver your body as he wills. This time, he pins your hands above your head, one large hand grasping your wrists, while his other arm presses as an immovable bar across your collarbones. One leg forces its way between your own, and you realize you are at this fae’s mercy, pinned like a prized butterfly in a collection; all pretty and helpless, on display for him to study.

You look down. You don’t want to see the anger on his face before he retaliates for your actions.

The arm across your chest shifts and you flinch as gloved fingers grab your chin, firm but not painful as he tilts your head, forcing you to look at him. You’re taken aback by the grin on his face, canines bared and bloodthirsty, but his eyes are amused.

“Try that again, I dare you.” His voice is rough and yet it doesn’t sound like a threat.

Your eyes grow wide. This kind of a creature is not one you will be able to escape, at least not now—unarmed except for your teeth and nails.

Ajax lets go of your chin, pulling back slightly. He’s delighted by the fire within you. When he first saw you, running toward the woods, he simply thought you a pretty coward. But oh you dared to fight back, using what little defenses humans naturally have, and you even broke skin. Though his fae blood allows him to rapidly heal, the sensation of your nails digging into his abdomen is not one he’ll forget anytime soon.

As he looks away from your face to take you all in, now that you’re not struggling to escape, his gaze catches on your cloak. His eyes light up, tracing over the exquisitely stitched leaves and plants of various green threads, mixed occasionally with lively bunnies of soft browns. There’s a rabbit still unfinished, just a cute head and perked ears, awaiting its body to bring it to life. 

“Did you make this?” Ajax asks, thumb brushing over the embroidery.

“No,” you gasp, heart sinking.

He tastes the lie and grins. “That’s not true now, is it?”

It’s over. Now that he knows you are skilled at sewing, he has all the reasons he needs to bring you into his realm. Despair is a heavy weight, mixed with frustration and anger. Tears well in your eyes and slide down the curves of your face. A few droplets spread into the cut on your left cheek, mixing with the beading blood that stains your skin.

Ajax is enchanted. Has he ever seen a human so beautiful?

He can’t stop himself from leaning in even closer until his nose nearly presses against your ear. There’s a moment where you hear him inhale. Then his tongue swipes up your cheek, lapping up tears and blood. His groan of delight is overlapped by your whimper, the cut on your cheek stinging as fear flows through your veins.

His fingers grip your chin again and he turns your head to the other side. Warmth travels up your cheek as he licks your tears, before pulling away with a satisfied smirk on his lips.

As you gasp for breath, he takes in the sight of more tears streaming down your face, shed in mourning for the loss of your life in the human world. Shudders run through you until your tears slow, giving time for your heart to harden. Slowly, you open your eyes to meet his gaze, yours now blazing with fury and hatred.

Ajax grins, taking in the vision before him. “You’re perfect.”

note ✧ ajax makes you point out your home and he gets to dig through your stuff as you collect a few things to take with you. don't worry, doggo gets to come with and is treated very well (fae like animals more than humans, usually).

this is not quite the type of thing i usually write, but i hope it was still an enjoyable read! i'd love to hear what you think c:

[befallenstars-archive]

┈✦ Falling into Familiar

Ft. Suguru Geto

contains: nsfw content {mdni}, exbf!suguru, fempov, pnv (unprotected), creampie, oral (reader receiving), fingering wc: 2k

It was a pattern you told yourself you’d break. A familiar rhythm, like an old song you hated to admit you still knew by heart. It always started with a text—too intentional to be accidental, too perfectly timed to be ignored.

“I miss you.”

Three words, late at night, tugging at a string you thought you’d already cut.

You’d hesitate, just for show, pretending you had a choice. But deep down, you always knew how it would end. A short drive to his place. That slow smirk he’d give when he opened the door, hair loose around his face, in casual clothes, still the most beautiful mistake you’d ever made.

“It’s late,” you’d mutter, trying to sound unaffected as you stepped inside.

“Didn’t stop you from coming,” he’d reply, voice soft and teasing. And it wouldn’t take long—minutes, maybe less—before you found yourself tangled in his sheets again, his hands on your skin, his voice low and familiar in your ear.

You told yourself every time that this would be the last. But the truth was, with Suguru, it never felt like the end. Just another loop in the same inescapable cycle.

┆彡

Suguru's hands roam your curves, reacquainting themselves with every dip and swell. His touch is firm, almost possessive, as if he's trying to imprint the feeling of you onto his palms.

"Fuck, I've missed this," he growls against your neck, teeth grazing your pulse point. "Missed you."

His hips press insistently against yours, his cock hard and aching. Your bodies move together as if no time has passed. “Tell me you want this- need this- as much as I do-” he growls, his voice a rough plea.

His lips descend on your skin like he’s staking claim, each kiss and nip leaving marks you’ll secretly wish would linger longer. “Say it,” he demands, his tone dark and edged with desperation as he thrusts his hips harder against yours. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m not—” you begin, the words catching in your throat as a gasp escapes, your back arching beneath him. Your body betrays you, yielding instinctively to his touch even as your voice falters. He knows you too well—knows how you resist, how you fight against the intensity of what he awakens in you.

“Your body doesn’t lie, even if your lips do.” he murmurs, his warm breath against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

He silences any reply with a searing kiss, his mouth crashing into yours with a fervor that leaves no room for protest. His tongue sweeps against yours, claiming you, branding you in ways words never could.

“You’re mine,” he breathes against your lips, the words low and reverent. “And I’m yours. Always.”

A groan tears from him as your teeth catch his lower lip, the sharp sting igniting something primal within him. His hand drifts lower, skimming the curve of your thigh before slipping beneath the thin fabric that separates you. His fingers brush against the damp heat of your core, coaxing a sharp intake of breath from you.

He feels how ready you are, how much your body craves him even if your words refuse to admit it. And in this moment, nothing else matters.

"That's it," he encourages, voice rough with desire. "Show me how much you want me. How much you need me."

He rubs his thumb against your clit, the pressure just right, making you gasp and buck against his hand. He loves how responsive you are, how easily he can make you fall apart.

Suguru breaks the kiss to trail his lips down your neck, teeth and tongue leaving a path of fire in their wake. He wants to taste every inch of you, wants to map out your body with his mouth until he knows it better than his own.

"My pretty girl" he purrs, fingers slipping beneath the fabric of your panties to stroke your slick folds.

Suguru's fingers slide through your folds, teasing and circling your clit before dipping lower to tease your entrance. He groans at how ready you are for him, how your body welcomes his touch like it was made for it.

"So fucking wet for me already….Bet you've been fantasising about this, huh? Thinking about my fingers inside you, my tongue tasting this pretty little cunt." his voice thick with desire.

He slips one finger inside you, then another, curling them just right to hit that spot that makes you see stars. His thumb rubs tight circles on your clit, the dual stimulation making your hips buck and your breath catch in your throat.

He spreads your legs wider as he settles between your thighs, tugging your panties to the side. He presses a slow, deliberate kiss to your clit. The heat of his breath sending a shiver coursing through you, anticipation coiling low in your belly.

His tongue glides between your folds, teasing and tasting, every movement purposeful yet hungry. He licks and sucks with an intensity that pulls soft gasps from your lips, coaxing your pleasure to the surface as though it belongs to him alone.

He savours you like a man deprived for far too long, like he’s been waiting endlessly for this moment—and in so many ways, he has. "You taste so fucking good,"

He alternates between broad strokes and focused attention on your clit, his fingers joining in to stretch you open for his mouth. He devours you, worships you with his tongue, determined to make you come undone.

Suguru can feel you getting closer, your thighs trembling around his head, your hips rocking against his face. He redoubles his efforts, tongue flicking rapidly over your clit as he slides two fingers deep inside you, curling them just right.

He pulls back suddenly, leaving you panting and desperate, aching for release. He crawls back up your body, a wicked smirk playing on his lips.

"Not so fast," he murmurs, voice low and teasing. "I think you forgot to tell me something." He's just as affected as you are, just as desperate for more, but he wants to hear you say it first.

He hovers above you, his bulge pressing against your skin.  "Admit it," he demands, eyes boring into yours. "Admit you missed me. Admit you need this as much as I do." He rocks his hips, grinding his cock against you, teasing you.

His thumb traces the curve of your lower lip, the motion slow and deliberate. When your lips part, his thumb slips past them, pressing lightly against your tongue. A low groan escapes him, the sound thick with desire as his mind races ahead, imagining those same lips wrapped around his cock.

He leans in, so close that his breath fans across your skin, warm and intoxicating. His lips hover just shy of yours, teasing, taunting. “What’s it gonna be, pretty girl?” he murmurs, “Gonna’ tell me what I wanna hear?”

“I missed you…” you whisper, “M’still yours, I promise—”

You don’t get the chance to finish. He surges forward, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss that speaks of frustration, longing, and possession. It’s desperate, a clash of tongues and teeth, he kisses you like he’s reclaiming you, staking his claim all over again.

His hands move with purpose, skimming over your body as if to relearn every inch. His palms cup your breasts, fingers teasing your hardened nipples through the thin barrier of your shirt. His touch is electric, and you arch into him, silently pleading for more.

He wants to strip you bare—see you, touch you, claim every inch of you—until there’s no question left in either of your minds. You’re his, and tonight, he’ll make sure you remember exactly what that means.

Suguru breaks the kiss, his chest heaving as he leans back on his heels. His hands move quickly, tugging at his clothes, and when he sheds the last barrier, his cock springs free—hard, thick, and already glistening with pre at the tip.

Slowly, he wraps a hand around his cock stroking with a measured pace, he wants you to watch, to see the effect you have on him, to understand the depth of his need.

“Look at what you’ve done to me,” his voice low and rough, each word laced with raw promise. His gaze never leaves yours, holding you captive. "All yours, pretty girl. All for you."

He reaches for your skirt, tugging them down your legs along with your panties. He takes a moment to admire you, spread out before him, your glistening folds, ready for him.

"Always so perfect," he breathes, before settling between your thighs once more.

He drinks you in, committing it to memory--the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, a vision he's determined to appreciate profoundly.

He lines himself up with your entrance, the head of his cock nudging against your slick heat. He leans down to capture your lips in a slow, deep kiss, pouring all his feelings into it. Even if he's not always the best at showing it, he loves you and he hopes to god that you can feel it.

He pushes slowly and steadily into you, groaning in pleasure as your tight walls stretch around him. It's always like this with you, like going home. Like you were made for him and him alone.

"Oh, God, you feel so good," he breaths against your neck, rolling his hips to thrust shallowly inside of you. "So tight, so perfect."

He begins to move, maintaining a steady rhythm that has both of you gasping and moaning. His hands roam your body, touching and caressing, memorising every dip and curve.

He wanted to hear you, wanted to feel that he was doing as much to you as you were to him. He wanted to make it good for you and was determined to make you forget everything but the feel of him inside you.

The atmosphere thrummed with electric tension. The air heavy with the heady scent of sex, thick with musk, your skin mists with sweat, allowing your bodies to push against each other. Suguru's fingers dig into your hips hard enough to leave bruises, holding you still as he makes you his.

Suguru established a steady pace, rolling his hips against yours as you slowly lost yourself in the pleasure. He was not rushing, not chasing his own pleasure; instead, he's focused entirely on you, on making you feel good.

His thrusts are deliberate, each one hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars. He angles his hips just right, filling you completely, in the best possible way.

One hand grips your hip, holding you in place as he moves. The other roams your body, pinching your nipples, stroking your thighs, touching you wherever he can. He lowers himself, his lips claiming yours in a desperate kiss. He swallows your moans and whimpers, his tongue dancing against yours, battling for control with an intensity that matches the frantic pace of his hands. The kiss is filthy; the kind of kiss that tastes like sin and promises.

Suguru's pace starts to quicken, his thrusts growing harder, deeper. He can feel you tightening around him, your walls fluttering and clenching. He knows you're close, and he's determined to get you there. His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he pounds into you, determined to bring you over the edge first.

One hand slides between your bodies to find your clit, fingers rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. He can feel you getting closer, your walls fluttering around him, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

"Come for me," he demands, voice rough with desire. "Let me feel you come undone. Let me feel you squeeze my cock."

He leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your cries of pleasure. His tongue tangles with yours, matching the rhythm of his thrusts, driving you higher and higher.

With one final, deep thrust, he now pushes you over the edge, your orgasm crashing around you as you gush around him, coming hard as your walls clamp down around him, milking him while he thrusts into you.

Then, not long after, Suguru follows you over the edge with his own release washing over him as he buries his face into your neck, biting down to muffle his groans, spilling himself inside you, filling you completely with his cum.

He falls onto you, both of you still floating in that lingering freshly-sated haze, in the gentle heat of soft kisses brushing along your neck—in each contact, his quiet longing for your love.

Guilt was nipping at the edges of his mind, whispering away that he is no good for you, that the shadow side of him will drag you down to his underneath. For now though, wrapped around him with your heartbeat meshing within him, it was impossible for him to care. You give him the flame deep inside him that he thought was under the ice-thick crust-many a time he was once broken.

He turned to his side, bringing you along with him so that you were snug against his chest, deliberate tenderness in the way his fingers ran along your skin. He plants a kiss on your head, savouring the faint scent of your shampoo with the musky scent of sex.

"I love you," he said, before he had any chance to grasp it. His voice sounded more subdued with the vulnerability he never allows himself to show. "Even though I shouldn't…Even though I know I’m not good for you... I love you.”

It’s selfish, he knows. A cruel indulgence. But with you in his arms, the weight of the world seems just a little lighter. You are his anchor and the thought of letting go is unbearable.

“Stay with me,” he murmurs, “Just for tonight. Let me have this. Let me believe, just for a little while, that we could be something more. That I could deserve you.”

The reality will come crashing down with the dawn—he knows that. But for now, in this fleeting, stolen moment, he’s content to pretend. To lose himself in you. To cling to the fragile illusion that, together, you might make everything okay.

reblogsノcomments are greatly appreciated <3

© lovesculprit ��� do not copy or translate any of my works

[befallenstars-archive]

Nobody better ask what the reading hours of my 2025 bingo card are filled by. But I will say that I am pointing fingers at mutuals who write lovely fics like these.

"Stop. Have mercy." My future self whispers as I continue to read this sinful fic.

Spoilers and lots of yapping under the cut!

Sunday

Afterall, his longing always seems to come at the least opportune times, like when he’s supposed to be entertaining guests.

I guess the exhibitionist fic I read wasn't just a one-time thing for this man.

“Hah, you are so funny, my dear. And who should I hold responsible for my wavering composure, I wonder?”

This man is hanging on by a THREAD. And reader is making it her mission to play with it to see how far he goes before snapping.

It was true, Sunday did enjoy you in this dress— you knew that better than anyone.

Every time a reader is confident and knows damn well how gorgeous they are, I do a little happy dance.

...you hear him swallow loudly.

Let it be known that I adore seeing men lose their composure like this🙂‍↕️

For someone who took great pride in being in control— he seems to lose it quite easily when it comes to you.

VANA, I ALREADY HORNY AS IT IS. DON'T MAKE IT EVEN WORSE. ACTUALLY, THIS IS SELF-INFLICTED NVM.

“Blaming me? Not fair.” You lean in as you tease him, and that’s enough for Sunday to suddenly flush— instinctively bringing his wings up to curl around his cheeks as he finds himself looking around the room. Unable to meet your gaze for a moment, and checking that nobody is watching him waver like this.

I needed to add the whole paragraph bc it was just that good. Men losing their composure and blushing. Yes. This is food for the soul.

But you’re surprised when he opts to raise his free one instead, urging them to halt on their heels as he sends them one of his polite, colder smiles.

Error: Cy has dysfunctioned.

Jing Yuan

*deep breaths*

Here we go again with this man...

Though some may argue that the general always appears to be needy when he’s in your vicinity

The way he doesn't even hide it? =͟͟͞͞(꒪ᗜ꒪ ‧̣̥̇)

It’s comfy, innocent— to begin with atleast because then you just need to do something seemingly mundane; a flutter of your lashes, a pout of your lips, and suddenly the general across from you can’t focus on anything.

Needed the whole paragraph again bc it was too good not to highlight. But gods I am genuinely losing it. Sure, I could stop but where's the fun in that?

He’s so shameless as he checks you out, accompanying each lidded blink with a squeeze of his palms as they stroke up your thighs.

Can we stop making him insanely attractive? For the sake of the sanity of lil' ol' me? Please?

Worse is the fact that it's the thighs. I am horribly weak.

Until he’s grabbing at the underside of your thigh—

GOODBYE.

I am going insane at this point. The way that I had a physical reaction of taking a sharp breath bc of this??? Uhm....

“Whatever do you mean, my dear? I am simply admiring my wife, is that worthy of such a punishment?”

Maybe the reason why I hate this man is because he is such a smooth talker. And I'm such a gullible person.

I am unwell and dysfunctional.

“Though if my punishment is by your hand. I shan’t find reason to complain too much.”

I AM LOSING IT, VANA.

STOP MAKING HIM SO SIDBAISBSJ

His palm pinching at your hips as he guides you onto his lap and unfortunately, you let him.

The way that my initial reaction is to throw my phone outside the window before following after it—

“Should you ask nicely, I may humour your little proposal.” His hands curl around where your hips meet your thighs and he squeezes. Even going as far to groan as he uses the skin as a means to rock you into him. He really was not discreet when it came to what he wanted. But still he’s smirking, smug. “Though first, I’d like to hear what you have in mind, my dear.”

Needed this whole paragraph bc I need you to understand which, why, and how I am just going insane.

Dr. Ratio

Like now, as you rest in Ratio’s quarters and you almost feel like you’re being scolded in a way— though you’re not too sure what for yet.

Reader breathed and this man folded.

As soon as you had walked into the room, Ratio immediately felt his focus wavering, not only did you turn the heads of the few idiotic researchers in your path— but he could barely read the text infront of him when he got that first smell for your perfume. He’d almost immediately rushed you both out of there before anyone could even blink.

Have I already mentioned how much I absolutely adore it when men lose their composure? Yes? Well, repitition for emphasis it is then.

...and it makes him click his tongue. Frustrated at such a banal reaction before he’s turning in his seat away from you.

No, bc this kind of reaction would have me trying to solve quantum physics in my mind and failing miserably. I'd bother him even more or sulk at that point.

“One might even assume you’ve deliberately sought out to disturb my efforts with such an enticing ploy. Though I do commend your determination, how would you expect one to react?”

Lots of pretty words for "You're so hot it makes me so horny that I can't think straight"— just my opinion ofc. Who am I except some silly person reading the narrative?

And in turn he can’t help but give himself another groan as he feels a headache coming on.

Highly unsolicited advice: Fess up and fuck already. Why are you torturing yourself this much??? Like dude?? You're getting literal HEADACHES from sexual frustration of having this gorgeous reader in the same room as you.

This man yaps a lot...

and his hand almost grips the edge of his desk until it shakes as he blinks at you.

?????????

"It’s best for me to revisit my research when I can give it my utmost attention.”

The laugh that left me.

Aventurine

It’s like a game to see which of you will break first.

I'd be a sore loser ngl

“What? I can’t just call you over for a little company?”

Except we all know it's not just for that.

But then Aventurine narrows his eyes up at you, and his touch begins to crawl over more of your body as he really begins. It’s soft at first, squeezing at your waist before its smoothing lower— to trail over your hips and palm at your body. He gives you just enough affection until you’re beginning to melt, fingers shaking against the back of his neck as you bite down on your lower lip and he watches you.

Head empty. Just this.

...he closes his lips around a particularly sensitive column of your throat, suckling lightly at the skin there before he’s letting it pop free

I zeroed in on the fic and only came back bc I realized I had my hand over my mouth to ensure the household stays family friendly.

THERE'S A REASON I SAID I'D BE A SORE LOSER. I WOULD NEVER WIN AGAINST THIS MAN.

...making you arch again as his fingertips trace down the length of your spine and you almost whine.

But what if I did—

...opting to satiate you with a kiss to your cheek instead.

Reader must have the patience of a saint bc I am personally losing it at this point.

Seems he’s just getting started.

Cue Juno by Sabrina Carpenter

Dan Heng

It was unlike Dan Heng to lose control of himself in this way.

I love love love this.

But it’s only so Dan Heng can admire the pretty pout that’s resting on your lips as you rest comfortably. Were he to go as far as to lean down just a little bit more, he’d be able to press a kiss into the side of your features and maybe after that he could—

Wait, this so adorable. I'm giggling and kicking my feet as we speak.

He feels every syllable in his cock.

BAHAHAHAHHAHAHA

That's such a fun way to describe it

You quite like that side of him.

I see the vision, reader. I see you.

Though the softest of pink that’s beginning to spread across his features is doing little to make you want to stop.

The way that I am starting to have the need to just devour this man—

⭒ HOW THEY ACT WHEN THEY WANT YOU, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

fem reader x sunday, jing yuan, dr ratio, aventurine + dan heng ( separate ) ; teasing. groping and touching. a touch of exhibitionism. reader wears a dress in a few. jing yuan refers to you as his wife. petnames used; my dear, my angel. wc. 800 to 1.2k max. ₊ 𓂃 masterlist. .

⭒ SUNDAY

Sunday most likely believes he’s discreet when it comes to his want for you. Truly believing that he is still in control of himself, like he isn’t slowly becoming overwhelmed by his insistent need to have you beneath him — closer to him. Afterall, his longing always seems to come at the least opportune times, like when he’s supposed to be entertaining guests.

Instead, all he can think about is you and that pretty, delicate little look you’re wearing. The way your dress is resting over your thighs, hugging around your body and everytime his gaze meets yours, he seems to forget how to breathe… speak even.

Infact, you can feel the way Sunday’s looking at you from across the hall.

You’re standing at the bar, only a few steps from him, but the heat in his gaze is still terribly evident, and probably inappropriate considering he’s surrounded by guests that he himself is supposed to be entertaining. He seems stiffer than usual, distracted — and it makes the men around him clear their throat almost awkwardly as they try to draw his attention back.

“Mr Sunday?” One of them speaks eventually, and the sound captures his focus, albeit momentarily as he tries to shake off the distraction. But he finds himself suddenly feeling flustered, for more than one reason as he feels something in his slacks twitch.

He fidgets for a moment before he takes a breath.

“Yes, yes. Forgive me, it seems I… let my thoughts get away from me. I hope the banquet has been to your liking so far.” The smile Sunday’s wearing is rehearsed, but it doesn’t seem to be as convincing as it usually is. He’s aware of that — and so as to not embarrass himself any longer, he bids those guests farewell before he’s bringing himself back to the true target of his affection.

And you’re already turning to greet him with every step he takes closer.

“You doing okay? you seem like you’re struggling.” You ask innocently as Sunday comes to stand opposite you. You immediately feel the weight of his hand on your lower back, and if that in itself doesn’t give away his sudden neediness— the way it squeezes you closer to him does.

“Hah, you are so funny, my dear. And who should I hold responsible for my wavering composure, I wonder?” His words are almost squeezed through clenched teeth, maybe even a little sarcastic, and you watch the way his wings seem to stiffen alongside them, shuddering as he lets his fingertips trace along the silky fabric of your dress.

“Had I known you were going to wear this dress, well then maybe I would’ve better prepared to be tormented.” It was true, Sunday did enjoy you in this dress— you knew that better than anyone.

Which is exactly why he’s finding himself to feel quite stuffy beneath his usual garments himself, letting his free hand come up to pull at the collar of his shirt as he tries to feign composure.

But you can’t help that seeing him in such a state makes you feel a little smug. You hum, “Well, you were busy beforehand so I couldn’t exactly go over my outfit with you.” You let your hand rest over Sunday’s arm as you push it up the length of his jacket — squeezing at his skin through the fabric as you hear him swallow loudly.

His gaze is sharper now, lidded as his body stiffens with your touch. For someone who took great pride in being in control— he seems to lose it quite easily when it comes to you.

And in such a public setting, how shameful. Sunday clears his throat as he tries to bring back some sort of power to himself.

“Fret not, it seems I’m no longer preoccupied and I feel it is time to bid farewell to our guests for the night. Should you not wish them to see your true intentions that is.” To seduce him— is what he is implying your intentions are, but you both know you’re quite capable of doing that with little to no effort at all.

That much is obvious now as he feels his cheeks burn with your close proximity and his growing want. The bulge in his slacks could become quite obvious if you keep this up.

“Blaming me? Not fair.” You lean in as you tease him, and that’s enough for Sunday to suddenly flush— instinctively bringing his wings up to curl around his cheeks as he finds himself looking around the room. Unable to meet your gaze for a moment, and checking that nobody is watching him waver like this.

His fingers at the back of your dress twist into the fabric, and you feel them trace shapes into your skin a moment later — resting lower on your back until it’s almost dangerous.

Sunday glances back at you, and you’re smiling when he does. The expression makes him frown, like he’s trying to cover up his reaction to you a moment ago. “Heh, well.. I think that is quite an understandable accusation.” And it takes everything in him to pull himself together before he’s giving you a darker look that you know means trouble.

“Though I can’t help but wonder which course you shall take now that you’ve been discovered, my angel. Surely repentance is due.”

It’s not like he’s going to let you off lightly after this little display.

But before he can drag you away, you hear someone call for him from over his shoulder as another patron approaches, and part of you expects his hand on your lower back to retreat. But you’re surprised when he opts to raise his free one instead, urging them to halt on their heels as he sends them one of his polite, colder smiles.

“My apologies. If you could excuse us for just a moment, I have something to tend to at once.”

⭒ JING YUAN

Though some may argue that the general always appears to be needy when he’s in your vicinity — you know more than anyone that there are a few certain tells to look for that ultimately give away when he really is.

Jing Yuan was always touchy with you, that much was a given — especially as you rest opposite him on the couch now, catching him up on your day while he’s been at work and you doing your own thing. He offers you an affectionate blink as you ramble, and his hand seems to be resting quite comfortably on your thigh as your legs rest over both of his own.

It’s comfy, innocent— to begin with atleast because then you just need to do something seemingly mundane; a flutter of your lashes, a pout of your lips, and suddenly the general across from you can’t focus on anything.

Well, anything but your sweet mouth, or the warmth of your skin beneath his palms or the shape of your body in your clothes.

And then suddenly you ask Jing Yuan a question and all he can do is hum. It’s an attempt to make sure he’s paying attention but it’s quite obvious he’s not as his amber gaze seems to busy itself elsewhere. He’s so shameless as he checks you out, accompanying each lidded blink with a squeeze of his palms as they stroke up your thighs.

You narrow your eyes at him, though he doesn’t seem to notice when his fingertips are too busy palming at your skin. They squeeze you affectionately, and he’s quite entranced by the give of your body when he does — soft beneath his fingertips as he hums to himself this time.

That’s when you find yourself stopping your conversation for a moment— and at first Jing Yuan doesn’t seem to notice as his touch presses up even higher. Until he’s grabbing at the underside of your thigh— dangerously close to your ass, and the way his lips seem to curl when you react with a shudder makes you scoff.

But that sound alone makes his cock throb from where it rests against his thigh.

“Since you’re not listening, I’ll just stop talking then.” You pout, flicking your fingers against his chest and it makes him lift his gaze to finally meet yours.

“Whatever do you mean, my dear? I am simply admiring my wife, is that worthy of such a punishment?” The smirk Jing Yuan’s wearing makes you roll your eyes, but then his fingertips are making their way higher up your thighs. Teasing at the hem of your shorts and almost pressing beneath to touch the hem of your panties, and it makes you smack playfully at his hand when he gives you another squeeze.

He chuckles at that, “Though if my punishment is by your hand. I shan’t find reason to complain too much.”

His teasing make you grumble. “You! Cut that out.”

But Jing Yuan’s words have made you feel suddenly warm beneath his gaze as he narrows his eyes at you. The handsome look he’s wearing is not only insufferable, but it’s hard to deny — which makes it even worse. It makes you want to bury your face into your hands so you don’t need to look at him.

But when you move to, he seems to quite quickly use his free hand to move them away again. “Oh? Don’t tell me the idea of punishing me has you so flustered?” His words drawl again and he uses your sudden embarrassment as a means to pull you closer. His palm pinching at your hips as he guides you onto his lap and unfortunately, you let him.

But this only gives him even more of you to play with.

“I think it’s safe to assume you seem to be much more distracted than even I, what shall we do about that now, hm?” Jing Yuan asks lowly as his both hands come to rest on your hips now.

He had an insufferable way of turning his need round onto you. To imply that you were the one that started all this, like you can’t feel the heavy throb of his cock beneath where he’s got you spread out on his lap. The bulge beneath you is quite obvious afterall, yet he’s palming and stroking at your body like he’s the one doing you a favour.

“Should you ask nicely, I may humour your little proposal.” His hands curl around where your hips meet your thighs and he squeezes. Even going as far to groan as he uses the skin as a means to rock you into him. He really was not discreet when it came to what he wanted. But still he’s smirking, smug. “Though first, I’d like to hear what you have in mind, my dear.”

⭒ DR RATIO

Despite what others may believe, it was quite impossible for Ratio to hide his want for you. Well, after a certain point that is — not only did he seem more irritable — something that others may assume was just the way he was, and more a fault of their own. He always seemed to be almost in denial that he would succumb to temptation so quickly. In turn— you always came to know faster than anyone what was really bothering him.

Like now, as you rest in Ratio’s quarters and you almost feel like you’re being scolded in a way— though you’re not too sure what for yet. He can barely look at you from where he’s leaning back in his seat at the desk, one of his legs balancing over the other as he pinches at the space between his brows.

But to him, there’s almost too much to say. Yes, he finds it quite adorable that you went out of your way to visit him while he busied himself with research, but on the other hand… You cannot be unaware of the effect you have on him.

As soon as you had walked into the room, Ratio immediately felt his focus wavering, not only did you turn the heads of the few idiotic researchers in your path— but he could barely read the text infront of him when he got that first smell for your perfume. He’d almost immediately rushed you both out of there before anyone could even blink.

And now it’s much the same. Suddenly he can’t focus on anything except the insistent throb in his cock that beckons him to reach out and touch you. The realisation of his predicament makes him scoff to himself, muttering an “Oh please.” beneath him breath.

And you can’t help but assume that’s it’s aimed at you ofcourse— as anyone would considering most of Ratio’s internal debate is going on inside of his head, and last he checked you couldn’t read minds. So innocently, and as pretty as always, you close the distance to lean over his desk and ask.

“Is everything okay?” You hum, softly as a means to diffuse the stuffy tension between you both. But as soon as the man across from you lifts his lidded gaze to meet yours, he feels something in his cock twitch and it makes him click his tongue. Frustrated at such a banal reaction before he’s turning in his seat away from you.

Ratio scoffs, “Quite the opposite.” But still, he thinks it’s probably best to explain himself. Well, while also trying to ignore the way even a glance at you makes him burn as he twists his neck to stretch.

He turns in his chair again, and it almost pains him to look at you when you meet him with such a cute reaction. But he conceals it to the best of his ability before he opts to speak, “One might even assume you’ve deliberately sought out to disturb my efforts with such an enticing ploy. Though I do commend your determination, how would you expect one to react?”

Ratio’s words make you tilt your head at him, and even that look makes him want to bundle you into your arms and keep you close. His gaze ultimately falls down to your lips as he awaits your response, then your jawline, your shoulder and your collarbone. The places that his lips are most familiar with. And in turn he can’t help but give himself another groan as he feels a headache coming on.

“I don’t think I understand what you mean.” You eventually respond, but you do think you understand something now as you watch him. Not only is his unease now noticeable, so is his bulge when he ultimately urges himself to stand from his seat.

Still, you let Ratio speak as you try to hide your smile at the realisation.

“Don’t play coy with me, I know you are no idiot. You are well aware of not only your captivating presence but that of my admiration for it. Hence, your scheme could be considered quite admirable were it not so obvious.” He manages to bring himself around to the other side of the table as he rambles, bringing himself to stand over you as he does.

But it seems Ratio’s body has come to terms with what he desires before his mind can accept it as such, and his hand almost grips the edge of his desk until it shakes as he blinks at you.

His eyes narrow, and his voice lowers sinfully, “Do you understand now? Or was my previous flattery misplaced? Do reassure me that that is indeed not the case.”

But because you’re quite familiar with Ratio’s mind— well, most of it, you opt to give yourself up despite your innocence. Afterall, you think this way of doing things may wind up being what’s best for both of you in the end. So you press yourself closer as you give him an alluring blink, and you feel his body stiffen when you fingertips graze along his chest.

“Maybe you’re right, Doctor.” You hum, quietly— you know he’s not one that’s easy to fool. But, you know he’s not one to deny himself of life’s pleasures either. You just happen to be his.

“Then I need say no more.” Ratio scoffs in response, and just as quickly as you allow him a little of your touch— you retract it. Opting to turn on your heels with the intention of putting distance between you both.

“If you’d rather I come back—“ You begin to say but it’s quite quickly, almost instantly actually that your lover cuts off your timely exit with a hand reaching out to grab you gently. Though you’re reminded that his muscles are not only for show when he makes quick work of pulling you back into his chest this time.

He swallows, and it was quite a rare occurrence to see Ratio look at you with such a look as his hands come to cup at both of your cheeks. He keeps your head tilted up towards him as he looks down at you, trying hard not to let his gaze fall to your lips once more. “Nonsense. Since you have went through the trouble of coming all this way. It’s best for me to revisit my research when I can give it my utmost attention.” His words cause you to blink up at him.

His voice seems more gentle now, though there’s an undercurrent of want still wrapped around it. It almost makes you feel warm as you press yourself closer, and you feel the way his cock seems to strain against you as you do.

It earns you a hiss from Ratio over you, “Until then, it seems I’ve been enticed by something far more worthy of my efforts.”

⭒ AVENTURINE

Whenever Aventurine caught himself needing you, which was most of the time, he always found himself wanting to have fun with it aswell. Sure, he loved to tease you at the best of times as it was already, but this only gave him another opportunity to bring you into a little game of his choosing.

It’s like a game to see which of you will break first.

You can see it first in the way his eyes lock on your figure as soon as you enter the room. Aventurine never had any problems pulling you into his lap, whether that be at the betting table or in the comfort of his own home. Today being the latter as he beckons you over with a grin and a quick flick of his fingers.

“Something wrong?” You ask as you draw closer and the gambler beneath you seems to answer by spreading his legs a little wider, as if making room for you as he outstretches his hand. It’s an invitation you take quite naturally, and he pulls you to straddle him when you come close enough to close the distance, taking a place over him that you seem to fall in to quite easily.

“What? I can’t just call you over for a little company?” Aventurine answers, but you can tell by the alluring glow of his gaze that he’s keeping his cards close to his chest. You’d be silly to think that that was the only reason for calling you over here. But you’re already quite comfortable from your place in his lap, and even despite your suspicions — you both know that you’re not planning on leaving.

Especially when his hands rest on your waist and squeeze so convincingly, “There’s no need to be suspicious.” His smooth drawl seems to climb its way along your spine — pulling you closer as you feel yourself slink up against his body. It’s almost embarrassing the effect that his words alone have on you, he knew exactly the tone to use — even just the smooth complexity of his voice makes you arch.

But you had your own ways of dealing with him after so long together too,

“Can you blame me? You’re such a schemer.” Your eyes narrow down at Aventurine, but still you let your fingertips press into his shoulders to squeeze. Letting them scratch through the soft hair at his nape and you feel him shudder at the touch. Despite how much he schemed and played with you, he himself could be quite sensitive if you knew where to start.

And that knowledge alone is what makes you such a great opponent for his little game.

“Haha, you’re so kind.” The sarcasm almost drips from his tone.

But then Aventurine narrows his eyes up at you, and his touch begins to crawl over more of your body as he really begins. It’s soft at first, squeezing at your waist before its smoothing lower— to trail over your hips and palm at your body. He gives you just enough affection until you’re beginning to melt, fingers shaking against the back of his neck as you bite down on your lower lip and he watches you.

Purring. “You’re sure to turn heads in every room. There’s no need to act so humble when someone appreciates that.” His efforts wind up urging you to push yourself close enough to feel the now obvious bulge in his slacks. The realisation makes you almost gasp as your thighs squeeze around both of Aventurine’s own.

And suddenly his intentions are now clear as he exhales his next breath along the nape of your neck. “But I gotta find my ways to claim what’s rightfully mine, wouldn’t you say?” Leaning in close to make sure you can almost feel the vibration of every syllable.

Your head drops back as his words seem to pour along the sensitive spots in your throat, followed closely by a soft press of Aventurine’s lips as he follows that same path. The gentle affection, paired with the steady caress of his hands makes you keen. Shuddering, “Did you call me over just to tease me? I’m not in the mood for games.”

Your lashes flutter when he closes his lips around a particularly sensitive column of your throat, suckling lightly at the skin there before he’s letting it pop free and he hums as he sees the blotch raise dark. His next squeeze of his hands is a little rougher as he looks up at you, letting his tongue lav over the blooming mark for a second longer before he’s meeting your gaze from beneath pretty lashes.

“There’s no need to be so nervous. Your chances seem pretty good if you ask me.” Aventurine’s tone is just as smooth as it always is. Seemingly unaffected despite the way his cock is all but leaking against the inside of his slacks. He is being honest when he says your chances are pretty good— afterall, the effect you have on him is the reason you’re both playing this game in the first place.

Which is why you’re so familiar with it, and exactly why you find yourself drawing closer as your arms loop around his shoulders to squeeze. With your next look, you’re chest to chest and you half expect him to kiss you when he looks at you with so much heat in his gaze— you’re surprised it doesn’t spark light.

Infact, Aventurine even sets you up for such. Starting at your jawline first as his lips tease along the skin— making you arch again as his fingertips trace down the length of your spine and you almost whine. Would it not be an obvious sign that he’s getting to you, you probably would.

He kisses the corners of your mouth next, twice— for good luck. And then he’s exhaling across your lips for the finale and it’s enough to make your eyes close and your thighs tremble. You wonder if he can feel the way your pussy does too.

But as soon as Aventurine gets close enough to do just that, he pulls away — opting to satiate you with a kiss to your cheek instead. Until he’s giving you another eager squeeze at your hips, bringing them flush against his clothed cock and you’re both biting back groans as he gives you another lidded, consuming look.

The heat of your cunt has become quite apparent now that it’s pressed against his own intimate skin, and it seems you’re both on equal standing for the next round.

“Heh, seem’s you’re not one to back down. Well.. how about we up the stakes?”

Seems he’s just getting started.

⭒ DAN HENG

It’s quiet on the express as you and Dan Heng rest side by side on one of the rogue sofa’s in the parlor car. You’re enjoying the time relaxing while you find yourself pressed up against his side and he’s busy scrolling on his phone while you do much of the same. Were you to look around you’d most likely come across Himeko or Welt — but for the most part it’s quiet besides the both of you.

But just because it’s quiet, doesn’t mean that you’re relaxed. More so, your lover is having a particularly hard time at remaining any sort of composed.

It was unlike Dan Heng to lose control of himself in this way, which is why he’s basically mastered the art of the poker face. Well, almost. With your close proximity, he can feel the way your body warms him as it pushes up against his chest, and he would be lying if he said it didn’t have some sort of effect on him.

It’s just how it is — but that doesn’t make it any easier. Even in the moments when he finds his gaze drifting from the screen of his phone to glance over at you instead. He feels like he’s short on breath, and were he to focus long enough he’s sure he’d end up with the flush of his cheeks giving him away. Which is why instead, he’s satiating his sudden want for you with quick looks every now and then.

But it’s only so Dan Heng can admire the pretty pout that’s resting on your lips as you rest comfortably. Were he to go as far as to lean down just a little bit more, he’d be able to press a kiss into the side of your features and maybe after that he could—

“What’s wrong?” Your voice calls him from his almost dream-like state and it makes him suddenly clear his throat before he’s snapping his attention back to his phone screen. To act like he wasn’t just completely staring at you… though the pink flush on the tips of his ears say otherwise.

“It’s nothing.” He answers almost suspiciously quick.

But if anything, that makes you even more curious as you opt to turn more of yourself towards Dan Heng. Until you’re leaning into him a little more and letting your fingertips rest against his chest. “You sure?” You ask softly, and that doesn’t do much at all to help his current predicament. He feels every syllable in his cock.

Infact, it almost makes his next words stutter— so he swallows loudly as a means to conceal it. “I said it was nothing.”

But that response only makes you smile even more before your fingers begin to shift, leaving featherlight touches along his chest next and teetering softly as you hum curiously.

And suddenly Dan Heng can’t focus on anything except the press of your fingertips. It feels like you’re toying with him, almost deliberately — pushing your body into his until you’re squished up against him, almost lying across his lap as you try hard to meet his gaze.

It makes him sigh before he’s locking his phone and resting it down to his side, “It seems you already know what you’re doing.” He says carefully, finally opting to meet your eyes and it makes you lean over until your cheek is resting against his shoulder.

Dan Heng’s gaze is darker now, more lidded than what others may be used to — but it does something to you everytime you see it as you watch it drop carefully to look at your lips. Just for a moment before he’s looking at you again.

You quite like that side of him.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Your voice sings innocently but he can see right through you as your fingertip draws careful shapes into his chest. Every flick feels like it burns him, stinging at the tips of his ears and behind the hug of his slacks. Were someone to see you both, the implication of what you were up to could be quite obvious given Dan Heng’s current state.

“Be as it may, I have a hard time believing you.” He beckons his voice lower as he tries to send you a carefully neutral look. Though the softest of pink that’s beginning to spread across his features is doing little to make you want to stop. Instead, it only makes you continue your movements— from his chest, to his abdomen, to the waistband of his slacks and that makes his hips twitch at the subtle press of your touch.

You hum, “I’m not even doing anything.”

And for a moment you believe that maybe Dan Heng is just going to leave you be when he sighs out an, “As you say so.” But by your next blink, he’s got his fingers wrapping gently around your wrist and he’s guiding you both off of the sofa until you’re headed out of the current parlor cart.

“Let’s go somewhere else.” Is all he offers you at first, until you pry ofcourse.

“Hm? Where are we going?” The burst of pink across Dan Heng’s features seems to be a lot more obvious now as you try to sneak a peek at him from where you’re scurrying behind. But still, his voice doesn’t shake when he answers.

“To my room. It seems I’ll have to try harder if I want to gain the upper hand.”

Afterall, were you to continue your movements for a moment longer, he would’ve had to have dealt with the embarrassment of having a noticeable bulge in his slacks. And he would rather avoid having to give an explanation.

[befallenstars-archive]

EASY ON THE EYES, EASIER TO HATE. tartaglia x reader ✧ 2.7k words

when the fae raid your village to take humans into their realm, you think you’ll be safe in the woods. but you run into a fae who introduces himself as tartaglia and realize it might have been safer for you to stay at home.

tags and warnings ✧  fae!tartaglia, gender neutral reader (no pronouns used), reader sews and tailors clothes for a living, the fae are pretty brutal, mentions of violence, (ajax licks) blood and tears, chasing (predator prey dynamic), manhandling, all enemies and no lovers (only tension oops). note ✧ this is a darker fic compared to most of my writing; please let me know if I need to tag anything else! title inspired by the song "psycho" by taylor acorn. a gift for @cruel-hiraeth for teahouse's secret santa! happy new year, kae! i hope this fic helps you start off the year right by loving hating tartaglia >u< this was lots of fun to write hehe and got a little long because the au ran away from me... i hope you enjoy! love you lots <3

The snow falls thick and fast, yet the village continues to burn. Screams and shouts of villagers, mixed with the clashing of metal, rise above the roar of devouring flames of blue.

The fae are here.

They pull people out of their beds, pushing them into the streets. Turn their faces toward the light of a burning house—looking for the beautiful humans, still young and nimble. Or searching for evidence of skill in the arts; a pretty face matters little if one can produce beautiful things in ways that the fae cannot. Those who fail to meet the fae’s standards are left alone, shivering and watching in the cold. 

The humans the fae deem acceptable meet a much worse fate. They are picked up and thrown in the back of carts, drawn by horses with ears too long and manes too wild, their coats unusually glossy and vibrant. The chosen who try to escape are bound with rope that cruelly digs into skin. Those who try to fight are taken down brutally, then laughed at as they writhe on the ground—though the fae make sure no permanent damage is done, for that would defeat the purpose of the raid.

A fae bearing a torch of blue flames brings it up to the walls of each house of those who have been chosen. The blue catches on the wood unnaturally quickly, spreading with a voracious hunger despite the wind and snow. Within the hour, nothing will remain besides a pile of ash. 

But by then, the fae and the chosen villagers will be long gone.

You are lucky that sleep is so elusive tonight.

Earlier, after tossing and turning in bed for ages, you give up on trying to fall asleep. It is hard to leave your dog who has curled up beside you in a ball of white fluff, but you press a kiss between her ears before changing into some warmer layers. You sweep a thick winter cloak over your shoulders. It is the most luxurious piece of clothing you own; a beautiful dark green cloth lined with fur, decorated by unfinished hand-embroidered leaves and flowers and bunnies—a project you’ve been chipping away at this winter. Putting on boots that have long since been molded to the shape of your feet, you leave your house to catch some fresh air and possibly tire yourself out along the way.

The blanket of pure white is beautiful. The full moon makes everything glitter as snow stretches from the outskirts of the village into the forests beyond. Snowflakes continue to fall, decorating your hair and eyelashes with diamonds, while the shoulders of your cloak become dusted in sugar. 

It is so quiet out here. The whistling of the wind and the thoughts in your head are the only sounds you hear. You are used to this, though. Every day you sew and tailor clothes in the back of the village’s clothing store, often alone for hours on end with nothing but your thoughts for company.

A strong gust of wind rocks you on your feet. Clutching your cloak tighter and tossing the fur-lined hood up over your head, you turn your back on the forest to face the trail of footsteps you’ve made through the snow. You should head home.

Still, you take your time approaching the village. The snow dances around you and you can’t help but indulge in a spin, cloak sweeping out around you in a swirl of deep green. Your huff of laughter is stolen by the wind, but the delight within you remains.

Then the first scream rips through the night.

You freeze. Scanning the houses on the outskirts of the village reveals no dangers.

Another cry follows the first and you know something must be terribly wrong. 

You start running toward the village, kicking up snow as your mind races. Perhaps someone is getting robbed—but no one in town would dare. Or based on the growing amount of cries and shouts, maybe something happened that has injured a lot of people. A fire?

As you make it to the buildings, you see that you are right. Fire engulfs one of the homes on the far side of town, the flames reaching for the sky. A shudder runs through you at the sight, for the flames are unnaturally blue, and though this is the first time you’ve seen such a thing, you have heard of the stories and warnings about the cyan fire and those that accompany it.

You will not let the fae take you.

Whirling around, you sprint for the woods. The screams of the other villagers ring in your ears, but you know it is impossible for you to take on a single fae, let alone an army of them. They are here to steal humans away. For what, you’re not sure, but it can’t be for anything good. Though you doubt they would choose to take you, the best way to make sure you can see the sunrise tomorrow is to hide in the woods and avoid them all.

Reaching the treeline seems to take ages. You keep looking over your shoulder as you run, half expecting to have been spotted, but you only see more and more flames of blue burning houses to the ground.

Your heart skips a beat at the thought of your home being set ablaze—your dog!—but then you remember the fae only burn the houses of the humans they take and relief washes over you.

With your thoughts consumed by the safety of your dog, you don’t notice that you have slowed, trying to catch your breath in the midst of the trees. Nor do you notice that you aren’t alone anymore, until the newcomer starts speaking.

“My, my. Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

Dread sinks like a stone in your stomach. You spin, eyes wide as they land on the source of those playful and teasing words, leaning against a nearby tree with his arms crossed.

You know he is fae right away by his unnatural beauty. His hair glimmers a coppery orange under the light of the full moon, all windswept and dusted in snow. His eyes seem to glow as they scan you from head to toe, a blue just a shade darker than that of the flames destroying the village. Ears taper into a fine point and from his left one dangles a deep red crystal that only makes you think of blood. He smiles, then, as you observe him. His canines are sharp and long, like that of a fox, and you are frozen with wide, shining eyes of a bunny.

He hums and tilts his head. It is then that you remember he asked a question, and your throat works to find your voice to answer him. “I was out for a stroll,” you manage to say, words somehow steady despite your fluttering pulse.

It’s a half-truth, but half-truths are half-lies, and there’s the slightest hint of bitterness in the back of Ajax’s throat that always accompanies humans’ lies. “Oh, really? And was that before or after we made our presence known?”

“Before, actually,” you tell him honestly. “I couldn’t sleep so I decided to take a walk. The snow is beautiful and the moon is bright—it’s pretty, is it not?” If you talk enough, maybe he’ll lose interest so you can make a run for it. You don’t know much about fae, but with the way he’s dressed in nicer clothing than what most men in your village wear, surely he won’t care for running through the snowy forest.

He smiles. “It is pretty.” His eyes refuse to leave your frame, and a shiver runs through you. You don’t think he’s talking solely about the snow. 

Pushing off the tree, he takes a few steps forward, nearly silent despite the boots he wears. He stops when you stiffen, clutching your cloak tighter in your hands. “Where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Tartaglia,” he says, picking one of his many names to give you. “And you are?”

You press your lips together and force a smile. Even you know not to give the fae your name, no matter how much of a gentleman he is pretending to be. Your stomach rolls, unease making your heart rate pick up again. “I’m-” You see the way he perks up in interest, expecting a name. “I’m leaving,” you spit out, turn on your heels, and run.

Ajax watches you leave, the green of your cloak billowing out behind you like a rabbit’s tail inviting him to chase. He laughs, throwing his head back as the sound erupts from his throat. “Oh, you shouldn’t have done that,” he says, his breath beading in the winter air.

He had not intended to take you back to the fae realm, but then you had to go and run. And he wouldn’t dare to let all your hard work go to waste—so he’ll participate in the delightful hunt you’ve set up for him.

The ground is uneven beneath your feet. It is hard to tell where the tree roots are under the thick layer of snow and each breath of air feels like tiny needles stabbing your lungs. But you push on, feet pounding as quickly as you can force yourself to go.

You want to be as far away from that fae as you can get. He had not looked like he was going to chase you when you last saw him, laughing as you ran away, but there was a look in his eyes that pushed you to keep running.

When you toss a quick glance over your shoulder, your breath hitches and terror rushes through you.

He’s there. In the distance, but you can see him, weaving through the trees at an inhuman pace, his long legs carrying him far. He is gaining on you and you fear what he will do when he catches you.

You push yourself to run even harder, but your legs burn and your throat feels tight. In your haste, you fail to see the lower hanging branches of a nearby tree. A cry tears from your lips as a thin branch slices through the skin of your cheek, but you barely feel the pain with your face nearly frozen from the cold.

“Ouch,” the fae calls after you. His voice is loud and clear, and you know he’s only getting closer. “Don’t hurt yourself too much trying to escape, okay?”

Through your huffs for air, you manage to shout back at him. “Piss off! Leave me alone!”

Ajax grins, closing the distance. “I don’t think I will,” he says.

He lunges forward and grabs a fistful of your cloak. You stumble from the pull, tripping over your feet. He uses the momentum to spin you around, pushing you backward until you hit a tree, forcing the air from your lungs. His body presses against yours right after, caging you in with one leg wedged between your own.

“Let go of me!” you shout, slamming your fists into his chest. You try shoving all of your weight into him but he simply presses back harder until his chest is flush against yours. 

He laughs—laughs!—as you struggle against him, kicking and yelling and throwing your weight from side to side. He does not budge at all under the onslaught. You do everything you can, but only wear yourself out, leaning back against the tree to catch your breath.

“Are you done?” he asks, amusement coloring his tone. “If not, I can do this all night.”

His reaction makes your blood boil, most of your fear buried beneath anger. You glare down past his arm that still grips your cloak and catch sight of a sliver of pale skin peeking through the folds of his clothes. Moving your gaze back up to his face, you spit out, “I hope you die.”

And then you dig your nails into the exposed skin of his stomach, sink your teeth into the arm holding onto your cloak, and shove with all your might.

Ajax stumbles backward. 

You rip yourself out of his hold, twist your body to the side, taking one step forward, free-

Arms wrap around your waist and throw you back toward the tree. Your feet catch on his boot, making you lose your balance, perfect for Ajax to maneuver your body as he wills. This time, he pins your hands above your head, one large hand grasping your wrists, while his other arm presses as an immovable bar across your collarbones. One leg forces its way between your own, and you realize you are at this fae’s mercy, pinned like a prized butterfly in a collection; all pretty and helpless, on display for him to study.

You look down. You don’t want to see the anger on his face before he retaliates for your actions.

The arm across your chest shifts and you flinch as gloved fingers grab your chin, firm but not painful as he tilts your head, forcing you to look at him. You’re taken aback by the grin on his face, canines bared and bloodthirsty, but his eyes are amused.

“Try that again, I dare you.” His voice is rough and yet it doesn’t sound like a threat.

Your eyes grow wide. This kind of a creature is not one you will be able to escape, at least not now—unarmed except for your teeth and nails.

Ajax lets go of your chin, pulling back slightly. He’s delighted by the fire within you. When he first saw you, running toward the woods, he simply thought you a pretty coward. But oh you dared to fight back, using what little defenses humans naturally have, and you even broke skin. Though his fae blood allows him to rapidly heal, the sensation of your nails digging into his abdomen is not one he’ll forget anytime soon.

As he looks away from your face to take you all in, now that you’re not struggling to escape, his gaze catches on your cloak. His eyes light up, tracing over the exquisitely stitched leaves and plants of various green threads, mixed occasionally with lively bunnies of soft browns. There’s a rabbit still unfinished, just a cute head and perked ears, awaiting its body to bring it to life. 

“Did you make this?” Ajax asks, thumb brushing over the embroidery.

“No,” you gasp, heart sinking.

He tastes the lie and grins. “That’s not true now, is it?”

It’s over. Now that he knows you are skilled at sewing, he has all the reasons he needs to bring you into his realm. Despair is a heavy weight, mixed with frustration and anger. Tears well in your eyes and slide down the curves of your face. A few droplets spread into the cut on your left cheek, mixing with the beading blood that stains your skin.

Ajax is enchanted. Has he ever seen a human so beautiful?

He can’t stop himself from leaning in even closer until his nose nearly presses against your ear. There’s a moment where you hear him inhale. Then his tongue swipes up your cheek, lapping up tears and blood. His groan of delight is overlapped by your whimper, the cut on your cheek stinging as fear flows through your veins.

His fingers grip your chin again and he turns your head to the other side. Warmth travels up your cheek as he licks your tears, before pulling away with a satisfied smirk on his lips.

As you gasp for breath, he takes in the sight of more tears streaming down your face, shed in mourning for the loss of your life in the human world. Shudders run through you until your tears slow, giving time for your heart to harden. Slowly, you open your eyes to meet his gaze, yours now blazing with fury and hatred.

Ajax grins, taking in the vision before him. “You’re perfect.”

note ✧ ajax makes you point out your home and he gets to dig through your stuff as you collect a few things to take with you. don't worry, doggo gets to come with and is treated very well (fae like animals more than humans, usually).

this is not quite the type of thing i usually write, but i hope it was still an enjoyable read! i'd love to hear what you think c:

[befallenstars-archive]

⭒ HOW THEY ACT WHEN THEY WANT YOU, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

fem reader x sunday, jing yuan, dr ratio, aventurine + dan heng ( separate ) ; teasing. groping and touching. a touch of exhibitionism. reader wears a dress in a few. jing yuan refers to you as his wife. petnames used; my dear, my angel. wc. 800 to 1.2k max. ₊ 𓂃 masterlist. .

⭒ SUNDAY

Sunday most likely believes he’s discreet when it comes to his want for you. Truly believing that he is still in control of himself, like he isn’t slowly becoming overwhelmed by his insistent need to have you beneath him — closer to him. Afterall, his longing always seems to come at the least opportune times, like when he’s supposed to be entertaining guests.

Instead, all he can think about is you and that pretty, delicate little look you’re wearing. The way your dress is resting over your thighs, hugging around your body and everytime his gaze meets yours, he seems to forget how to breathe… speak even.

Infact, you can feel the way Sunday’s looking at you from across the hall.

You’re standing at the bar, only a few steps from him, but the heat in his gaze is still terribly evident, and probably inappropriate considering he’s surrounded by guests that he himself is supposed to be entertaining. He seems stiffer than usual, distracted — and it makes the men around him clear their throat almost awkwardly as they try to draw his attention back.

“Mr Sunday?” One of them speaks eventually, and the sound captures his focus, albeit momentarily as he tries to shake off the distraction. But he finds himself suddenly feeling flustered, for more than one reason as he feels something in his slacks twitch.

He fidgets for a moment before he takes a breath.

“Yes, yes. Forgive me, it seems I… let my thoughts get away from me. I hope the banquet has been to your liking so far.” The smile Sunday’s wearing is rehearsed, but it doesn’t seem to be as convincing as it usually is. He’s aware of that — and so as to not embarrass himself any longer, he bids those guests farewell before he’s bringing himself back to the true target of his affection.

And you’re already turning to greet him with every step he takes closer.

“You doing okay? you seem like you’re struggling.” You ask innocently as Sunday comes to stand opposite you. You immediately feel the weight of his hand on your lower back, and if that in itself doesn’t give away his sudden neediness— the way it squeezes you closer to him does.

“Hah, you are so funny, my dear. And who should I hold responsible for my wavering composure, I wonder?” His words are almost squeezed through clenched teeth, maybe even a little sarcastic, and you watch the way his wings seem to stiffen alongside them, shuddering as he lets his fingertips trace along the silky fabric of your dress.

“Had I known you were going to wear this dress, well then maybe I would’ve better prepared to be tormented.” It was true, Sunday did enjoy you in this dress— you knew that better than anyone.

Which is exactly why he’s finding himself to feel quite stuffy beneath his usual garments himself, letting his free hand come up to pull at the collar of his shirt as he tries to feign composure.

But you can’t help that seeing him in such a state makes you feel a little smug. You hum, “Well, you were busy beforehand so I couldn’t exactly go over my outfit with you.” You let your hand rest over Sunday’s arm as you push it up the length of his jacket — squeezing at his skin through the fabric as you hear him swallow loudly.

His gaze is sharper now, lidded as his body stiffens with your touch. For someone who took great pride in being in control— he seems to lose it quite easily when it comes to you.

And in such a public setting, how shameful. Sunday clears his throat as he tries to bring back some sort of power to himself.

“Fret not, it seems I’m no longer preoccupied and I feel it is time to bid farewell to our guests for the night. Should you not wish them to see your true intentions that is.” To seduce him— is what he is implying your intentions are, but you both know you’re quite capable of doing that with little to no effort at all.

That much is obvious now as he feels his cheeks burn with your close proximity and his growing want. The bulge in his slacks could become quite obvious if you keep this up.

“Blaming me? Not fair.” You lean in as you tease him, and that’s enough for Sunday to suddenly flush— instinctively bringing his wings up to curl around his cheeks as he finds himself looking around the room. Unable to meet your gaze for a moment, and checking that nobody is watching him waver like this.

His fingers at the back of your dress twist into the fabric, and you feel them trace shapes into your skin a moment later — resting lower on your back until it’s almost dangerous.

Sunday glances back at you, and you’re smiling when he does. The expression makes him frown, like he’s trying to cover up his reaction to you a moment ago. “Heh, well.. I think that is quite an understandable accusation.” And it takes everything in him to pull himself together before he’s giving you a darker look that you know means trouble.

“Though I can’t help but wonder which course you shall take now that you’ve been discovered, my angel. Surely repentance is due.”

It’s not like he’s going to let you off lightly after this little display.

But before he can drag you away, you hear someone call for him from over his shoulder as another patron approaches, and part of you expects his hand on your lower back to retreat. But you’re surprised when he opts to raise his free one instead, urging them to halt on their heels as he sends them one of his polite, colder smiles.

“My apologies. If you could excuse us for just a moment, I have something to tend to at once.”

⭒ JING YUAN

Though some may argue that the general always appears to be needy when he’s in your vicinity — you know more than anyone that there are a few certain tells to look for that ultimately give away when he really is.

Jing Yuan was always touchy with you, that much was a given — especially as you rest opposite him on the couch now, catching him up on your day while he’s been at work and you doing your own thing. He offers you an affectionate blink as you ramble, and his hand seems to be resting quite comfortably on your thigh as your legs rest over both of his own.

It’s comfy, innocent— to begin with atleast because then you just need to do something seemingly mundane; a flutter of your lashes, a pout of your lips, and suddenly the general across from you can’t focus on anything.

Well, anything but your sweet mouth, or the warmth of your skin beneath his palms or the shape of your body in your clothes.

And then suddenly you ask Jing Yuan a question and all he can do is hum. It’s an attempt to make sure he’s paying attention but it’s quite obvious he’s not as his amber gaze seems to busy itself elsewhere. He’s so shameless as he checks you out, accompanying each lidded blink with a squeeze of his palms as they stroke up your thighs.

You narrow your eyes at him, though he doesn’t seem to notice when his fingertips are too busy palming at your skin. They squeeze you affectionately, and he’s quite entranced by the give of your body when he does — soft beneath his fingertips as he hums to himself this time.

That’s when you find yourself stopping your conversation for a moment— and at first Jing Yuan doesn’t seem to notice as his touch presses up even higher. Until he’s grabbing at the underside of your thigh— dangerously close to your ass, and the way his lips seem to curl when you react with a shudder makes you scoff.

But that sound alone makes his cock throb from where it rests against his thigh.

“Since you’re not listening, I’ll just stop talking then.” You pout, flicking your fingers against his chest and it makes him lift his gaze to finally meet yours.

“Whatever do you mean, my dear? I am simply admiring my wife, is that worthy of such a punishment?” The smirk Jing Yuan’s wearing makes you roll your eyes, but then his fingertips are making their way higher up your thighs. Teasing at the hem of your shorts and almost pressing beneath to touch the hem of your panties, and it makes you smack playfully at his hand when he gives you another squeeze.

He chuckles at that, “Though if my punishment is by your hand. I shan’t find reason to complain too much.”

His teasing make you grumble. “You! Cut that out.”

But Jing Yuan’s words have made you feel suddenly warm beneath his gaze as he narrows his eyes at you. The handsome look he’s wearing is not only insufferable, but it’s hard to deny — which makes it even worse. It makes you want to bury your face into your hands so you don’t need to look at him.

But when you move to, he seems to quite quickly use his free hand to move them away again. “Oh? Don’t tell me the idea of punishing me has you so flustered?” His words drawl again and he uses your sudden embarrassment as a means to pull you closer. His palm pinching at your hips as he guides you onto his lap and unfortunately, you let him.

But this only gives him even more of you to play with.

“I think it’s safe to assume you seem to be much more distracted than even I, what shall we do about that now, hm?” Jing Yuan asks lowly as his both hands come to rest on your hips now.

He had an insufferable way of turning his need round onto you. To imply that you were the one that started all this, like you can’t feel the heavy throb of his cock beneath where he’s got you spread out on his lap. The bulge beneath you is quite obvious afterall, yet he’s palming and stroking at your body like he’s the one doing you a favour.

“Should you ask nicely, I may humour your little proposal.” His hands curl around where your hips meet your thighs and he squeezes. Even going as far to groan as he uses the skin as a means to rock you into him. He really was not discreet when it came to what he wanted. But still he’s smirking, smug. “Though first, I’d like to hear what you have in mind, my dear.”

⭒ DR RATIO

Despite what others may believe, it was quite impossible for Ratio to hide his want for you. Well, after a certain point that is — not only did he seem more irritable — something that others may assume was just the way he was, and more a fault of their own. He always seemed to be almost in denial that he would succumb to temptation so quickly. In turn— you always came to know faster than anyone what was really bothering him.

Like now, as you rest in Ratio’s quarters and you almost feel like you’re being scolded in a way— though you’re not too sure what for yet. He can barely look at you from where he’s leaning back in his seat at the desk, one of his legs balancing over the other as he pinches at the space between his brows.

But to him, there’s almost too much to say. Yes, he finds it quite adorable that you went out of your way to visit him while he busied himself with research, but on the other hand… You cannot be unaware of the effect you have on him.

As soon as you had walked into the room, Ratio immediately felt his focus wavering, not only did you turn the heads of the few idiotic researchers in your path— but he could barely read the text infront of him when he got that first smell for your perfume. He’d almost immediately rushed you both out of there before anyone could even blink.

And now it’s much the same. Suddenly he can’t focus on anything except the insistent throb in his cock that beckons him to reach out and touch you. The realisation of his predicament makes him scoff to himself, muttering an “Oh please.” beneath him breath.

And you can’t help but assume that’s it’s aimed at you ofcourse— as anyone would considering most of Ratio’s internal debate is going on inside of his head, and last he checked you couldn’t read minds. So innocently, and as pretty as always, you close the distance to lean over his desk and ask.

“Is everything okay?” You hum, softly as a means to diffuse the stuffy tension between you both. But as soon as the man across from you lifts his lidded gaze to meet yours, he feels something in his cock twitch and it makes him click his tongue. Frustrated at such a banal reaction before he’s turning in his seat away from you.

Ratio scoffs, “Quite the opposite.” But still, he thinks it’s probably best to explain himself. Well, while also trying to ignore the way even a glance at you makes him burn as he twists his neck to stretch.

He turns in his chair again, and it almost pains him to look at you when you meet him with such a cute reaction. But he conceals it to the best of his ability before he opts to speak, “One might even assume you’ve deliberately sought out to disturb my efforts with such an enticing ploy. Though I do commend your determination, how would you expect one to react?”

Ratio’s words make you tilt your head at him, and even that look makes him want to bundle you into your arms and keep you close. His gaze ultimately falls down to your lips as he awaits your response, then your jawline, your shoulder and your collarbone. The places that his lips are most familiar with. And in turn he can’t help but give himself another groan as he feels a headache coming on.

“I don’t think I understand what you mean.” You eventually respond, but you do think you understand something now as you watch him. Not only is his unease now noticeable, so is his bulge when he ultimately urges himself to stand from his seat.

Still, you let Ratio speak as you try to hide your smile at the realisation.

“Don’t play coy with me, I know you are no idiot. You are well aware of not only your captivating presence but that of my admiration for it. Hence, your scheme could be considered quite admirable were it not so obvious.” He manages to bring himself around to the other side of the table as he rambles, bringing himself to stand over you as he does.

But it seems Ratio’s body has come to terms with what he desires before his mind can accept it as such, and his hand almost grips the edge of his desk until it shakes as he blinks at you.

His eyes narrow, and his voice lowers sinfully, “Do you understand now? Or was my previous flattery misplaced? Do reassure me that that is indeed not the case.”

But because you’re quite familiar with Ratio’s mind— well, most of it, you opt to give yourself up despite your innocence. Afterall, you think this way of doing things may wind up being what’s best for both of you in the end. So you press yourself closer as you give him an alluring blink, and you feel his body stiffen when you fingertips graze along his chest.

“Maybe you’re right, Doctor.” You hum, quietly— you know he’s not one that’s easy to fool. But, you know he’s not one to deny himself of life’s pleasures either. You just happen to be his.

“Then I need say no more.” Ratio scoffs in response, and just as quickly as you allow him a little of your touch— you retract it. Opting to turn on your heels with the intention of putting distance between you both.

“If you’d rather I come back—“ You begin to say but it’s quite quickly, almost instantly actually that your lover cuts off your timely exit with a hand reaching out to grab you gently. Though you’re reminded that his muscles are not only for show when he makes quick work of pulling you back into his chest this time.

He swallows, and it was quite a rare occurrence to see Ratio look at you with such a look as his hands come to cup at both of your cheeks. He keeps your head tilted up towards him as he looks down at you, trying hard not to let his gaze fall to your lips once more. “Nonsense. Since you have went through the trouble of coming all this way. It’s best for me to revisit my research when I can give it my utmost attention.” His words cause you to blink up at him.

His voice seems more gentle now, though there’s an undercurrent of want still wrapped around it. It almost makes you feel warm as you press yourself closer, and you feel the way his cock seems to strain against you as you do.

It earns you a hiss from Ratio over you, “Until then, it seems I’ve been enticed by something far more worthy of my efforts.”

⭒ AVENTURINE

Whenever Aventurine caught himself needing you, which was most of the time, he always found himself wanting to have fun with it aswell. Sure, he loved to tease you at the best of times as it was already, but this only gave him another opportunity to bring you into a little game of his choosing.

It’s like a game to see which of you will break first.

You can see it first in the way his eyes lock on your figure as soon as you enter the room. Aventurine never had any problems pulling you into his lap, whether that be at the betting table or in the comfort of his own home. Today being the latter as he beckons you over with a grin and a quick flick of his fingers.

“Something wrong?” You ask as you draw closer and the gambler beneath you seems to answer by spreading his legs a little wider, as if making room for you as he outstretches his hand. It’s an invitation you take quite naturally, and he pulls you to straddle him when you come close enough to close the distance, taking a place over him that you seem to fall in to quite easily.

“What? I can’t just call you over for a little company?” Aventurine answers, but you can tell by the alluring glow of his gaze that he’s keeping his cards close to his chest. You’d be silly to think that that was the only reason for calling you over here. But you’re already quite comfortable from your place in his lap, and even despite your suspicions — you both know that you’re not planning on leaving.

Especially when his hands rest on your waist and squeeze so convincingly, “There’s no need to be suspicious.” His smooth drawl seems to climb its way along your spine — pulling you closer as you feel yourself slink up against his body. It’s almost embarrassing the effect that his words alone have on you, he knew exactly the tone to use — even just the smooth complexity of his voice makes you arch.

But you had your own ways of dealing with him after so long together too,

“Can you blame me? You’re such a schemer.” Your eyes narrow down at Aventurine, but still you let your fingertips press into his shoulders to squeeze. Letting them scratch through the soft hair at his nape and you feel him shudder at the touch. Despite how much he schemed and played with you, he himself could be quite sensitive if you knew where to start.

And that knowledge alone is what makes you such a great opponent for his little game.

“Haha, you’re so kind.” The sarcasm almost drips from his tone.

But then Aventurine narrows his eyes up at you, and his touch begins to crawl over more of your body as he really begins. It’s soft at first, squeezing at your waist before its smoothing lower— to trail over your hips and palm at your body. He gives you just enough affection until you’re beginning to melt, fingers shaking against the back of his neck as you bite down on your lower lip and he watches you.

Purring. “You’re sure to turn heads in every room. There’s no need to act so humble when someone appreciates that.” His efforts wind up urging you to push yourself close enough to feel the now obvious bulge in his slacks. The realisation makes you almost gasp as your thighs squeeze around both of Aventurine’s own.

And suddenly his intentions are now clear as he exhales his next breath along the nape of your neck. “But I gotta find my ways to claim what’s rightfully mine, wouldn’t you say?” Leaning in close to make sure you can almost feel the vibration of every syllable.

Your head drops back as his words seem to pour along the sensitive spots in your throat, followed closely by a soft press of Aventurine’s lips as he follows that same path. The gentle affection, paired with the steady caress of his hands makes you keen. Shuddering, “Did you call me over just to tease me? I’m not in the mood for games.”

Your lashes flutter when he closes his lips around a particularly sensitive column of your throat, suckling lightly at the skin there before he’s letting it pop free and he hums as he sees the blotch raise dark. His next squeeze of his hands is a little rougher as he looks up at you, letting his tongue lav over the blooming mark for a second longer before he’s meeting your gaze from beneath pretty lashes.

“There’s no need to be so nervous. Your chances seem pretty good if you ask me.” Aventurine’s tone is just as smooth as it always is. Seemingly unaffected despite the way his cock is all but leaking against the inside of his slacks. He is being honest when he says your chances are pretty good— afterall, the effect you have on him is the reason you’re both playing this game in the first place.

Which is why you’re so familiar with it, and exactly why you find yourself drawing closer as your arms loop around his shoulders to squeeze. With your next look, you’re chest to chest and you half expect him to kiss you when he looks at you with so much heat in his gaze— you’re surprised it doesn’t spark light.

Infact, Aventurine even sets you up for such. Starting at your jawline first as his lips tease along the skin— making you arch again as his fingertips trace down the length of your spine and you almost whine. Would it not be an obvious sign that he’s getting to you, you probably would.

He kisses the corners of your mouth next, twice— for good luck. And then he’s exhaling across your lips for the finale and it’s enough to make your eyes close and your thighs tremble. You wonder if he can feel the way your pussy does too.

But as soon as Aventurine gets close enough to do just that, he pulls away — opting to satiate you with a kiss to your cheek instead. Until he’s giving you another eager squeeze at your hips, bringing them flush against his clothed cock and you’re both biting back groans as he gives you another lidded, consuming look.

The heat of your cunt has become quite apparent now that it’s pressed against his own intimate skin, and it seems you’re both on equal standing for the next round.

“Heh, seem’s you’re not one to back down. Well.. how about we up the stakes?”

Seems he’s just getting started.

⭒ DAN HENG

It’s quiet on the express as you and Dan Heng rest side by side on one of the rogue sofa’s in the parlor car. You’re enjoying the time relaxing while you find yourself pressed up against his side and he’s busy scrolling on his phone while you do much of the same. Were you to look around you’d most likely come across Himeko or Welt — but for the most part it’s quiet besides the both of you.

But just because it’s quiet, doesn’t mean that you’re relaxed. More so, your lover is having a particularly hard time at remaining any sort of composed.

It was unlike Dan Heng to lose control of himself in this way, which is why he’s basically mastered the art of the poker face. Well, almost. With your close proximity, he can feel the way your body warms him as it pushes up against his chest, and he would be lying if he said it didn’t have some sort of effect on him.

It’s just how it is — but that doesn’t make it any easier. Even in the moments when he finds his gaze drifting from the screen of his phone to glance over at you instead. He feels like he’s short on breath, and were he to focus long enough he’s sure he’d end up with the flush of his cheeks giving him away. Which is why instead, he’s satiating his sudden want for you with quick looks every now and then.

But it’s only so Dan Heng can admire the pretty pout that’s resting on your lips as you rest comfortably. Were he to go as far as to lean down just a little bit more, he’d be able to press a kiss into the side of your features and maybe after that he could—

“What’s wrong?” Your voice calls him from his almost dream-like state and it makes him suddenly clear his throat before he’s snapping his attention back to his phone screen. To act like he wasn’t just completely staring at you… though the pink flush on the tips of his ears say otherwise.

“It’s nothing.” He answers almost suspiciously quick.

But if anything, that makes you even more curious as you opt to turn more of yourself towards Dan Heng. Until you’re leaning into him a little more and letting your fingertips rest against his chest. “You sure?” You ask softly, and that doesn’t do much at all to help his current predicament. He feels every syllable in his cock.

Infact, it almost makes his next words stutter— so he swallows loudly as a means to conceal it. “I said it was nothing.”

But that response only makes you smile even more before your fingers begin to shift, leaving featherlight touches along his chest next and teetering softly as you hum curiously.

And suddenly Dan Heng can’t focus on anything except the press of your fingertips. It feels like you’re toying with him, almost deliberately — pushing your body into his until you’re squished up against him, almost lying across his lap as you try hard to meet his gaze.

It makes him sigh before he’s locking his phone and resting it down to his side, “It seems you already know what you’re doing.” He says carefully, finally opting to meet your eyes and it makes you lean over until your cheek is resting against his shoulder.

Dan Heng’s gaze is darker now, more lidded than what others may be used to — but it does something to you everytime you see it as you watch it drop carefully to look at your lips. Just for a moment before he’s looking at you again.

You quite like that side of him.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Your voice sings innocently but he can see right through you as your fingertip draws careful shapes into his chest. Every flick feels like it burns him, stinging at the tips of his ears and behind the hug of his slacks. Were someone to see you both, the implication of what you were up to could be quite obvious given Dan Heng’s current state.

“Be as it may, I have a hard time believing you.” He beckons his voice lower as he tries to send you a carefully neutral look. Though the softest of pink that’s beginning to spread across his features is doing little to make you want to stop. Instead, it only makes you continue your movements— from his chest, to his abdomen, to the waistband of his slacks and that makes his hips twitch at the subtle press of your touch.

You hum, “I’m not even doing anything.”

And for a moment you believe that maybe Dan Heng is just going to leave you be when he sighs out an, “As you say so.” But by your next blink, he’s got his fingers wrapping gently around your wrist and he’s guiding you both off of the sofa until you’re headed out of the current parlor cart.

“Let’s go somewhere else.” Is all he offers you at first, until you pry ofcourse.

“Hm? Where are we going?” The burst of pink across Dan Heng’s features seems to be a lot more obvious now as you try to sneak a peek at him from where you’re scurrying behind. But still, his voice doesn’t shake when he answers.

“To my room. It seems I’ll have to try harder if I want to gain the upper hand.”

Afterall, were you to continue your movements for a moment longer, he would’ve had to have dealt with the embarrassment of having a noticeable bulge in his slacks. And he would rather avoid having to give an explanation.

[befallenstars-archive]

Pulse - Portgas D. Ace

Portgas D. Ace x Reader

CW: trauma, mentions of death, and slightly suggestive teasing, kinda proofread? I got tired :/ | wc: 15,671 🫠 SPOILERS: Amazon Lily / Marineford / Post Marineford Y'all can thank @captainportgasdace for this. as agreed upon previously, @silentgravesdontexist you're tagged for this piece MasterList (linked at bottom too)

There had always been a somewhat wistful quality to Ace.

It wasn’t always apparent, but it was there, lurking, much like the many sea kings of the Calm Belt. The Calm Belt…you huffed a little, you could liken Ace to that stretch of sea - so much lurking beneath the surface. 

If you looked at him hard enough you’d be able to see the large shadows swimming not too far away. Though today, or rather, following the first anniversary of his very close call with death, the summit war, you couldn’t help but feel those shadows had migrated closer to the surface. Large, dark, intimidating - moments from attacking.

That needn’t be a bad thing. Maybe you could finally take them down. Maybe he’d even let you help.

Or so you hoped.

No mind. You had patience to spare. Especially when it involved your loved ones.

You studied your dear friend from afar, starting from his head - his hair had grown longer over the course of the year or so he’d been recuperating for. A trim was in order - if only to remove the bottoms and promote healthy hair growth. Regardless of your skill with scissors, he’d probably let you trim it for him if you asked him to. Anywho, he sat cross-legged on the sand, his shoulders hunched slightly forward as he hugged his knees. Your eyes were immediately pulled down to the marred skin of his back.

Where his back was once crowned with the mark of the strongest man on the seas, there was now an empty patch of scarred skin: a testament to the void left by the loss of a father. It was still the same back though. The same back that had stood between you and adversaries unthinkingly: raising both morale and wrapping you in security. It was the same back, just…missing a little something.

You couldn’t help the way the sand crunched under your feet, still you tried your best not to disturb his reverie. He did little more than glance over to confirm you weren’t a threat, before silently turning his gaze back to the sea that he would no doubt be taking to soon enough. He would be much like a child returning to the embrace of his parents in a sense…as he was “a child of the sea.”

There really had always been a somewhat wistful quality to Ace.

You had to tear your eyes away from him. Quite the feat when the sun was starting to set, casting a golden glow upon your friend - who was already beautiful enough under the dingy lights of pirate ship cabins, let alone during this golden hour. You knew well enough that you’d give yourself away if you kept staring at him. While it wasn’t wise to wait, you also knew that confessing to a person in the midst of grief was insensitive. And, you had patience to spare. Especially when it involved your loved ones.

You instead took a moment to trace his line of sight, attempting to follow it with your own gaze. You soon took a seat beside him, sitting cross-legged much like he was, only that you opted to hold your hands within your lap, rather than hug your knees.

It had been a while since you’d both come to this island after all that had happened. While walks on the beach were regular, and you did leave the house, it had been a while since you’d really taken the time to admire the vastness of the water. It had been a while since you’d really focused on the way the breeze felt as it tousled your hair tenderly. It had been a while since you’d really dug your feet into the sand and enjoyed the little poking sensations of the sand under your toes.

“Y’think I can get my back tattooed again?” 

You blinked yourself back from your thoughts, turning to look at the man to your side, his brows furrowed as he continued to look out to the sea. In the time it took you to process his question and consider how to respond, he’d already found his answer: “I can’t, can I?”

“I think it would be better not to,” you agreed nodding slowly, “were you considering getting another back tattoo?”

His grip on his arms tightened as he hugged himself tighter, gaze finally moving away from the sea, falling onto the sand instead, taking your heart with it. You leaned back to study his back once again, contemplating.

“There’s always your lower back,” you rocked forward to try and capture his attention, “or your butt.”

The incredulous look he gave you had your eyes crinkling in mirth. Though you did find yourself looking away soon enough, your embarrassment catching up to you. It went down a little bit-kind of…when you heard him give a quiet, but amused chuckle, “nah my butt won’t work!”

You glanced his way, and the instant that he recognized you were looking at him, he continued, “unless you’re suggesting I go around with my ass cheeks out.”

“Ace!” You groaned, your hands immediately going to cover your face, your whole body hunching forward in embarrassment as he erupted into boisterous laughter.

After a moment, and through the scalding heat of your cheeks, you asked, “would you wear a shirt to compensate for having your bottom half exposed?”

When you heard him hum, you braved a peek through your fingers to see his brows raised into a thoughtful expression, brown eyes reflecting the warm pinks and oranges of the sunset. You looked away the moment his eyes met yours, cheeks burning yet again.

“Y’know what?” You looked up again, and he grinned, teeth glistening in the light as he answered you. “Nope! I wouldn’t.”

When you hid your face all over again, you were entreated to even more of his beloved hearty laughter. You could feel the way his shoulders shook beside you, despite not being in contact. Your pride battled against your satisfaction trying to force you to be upset even though you’d invited this kind of teasing, and enjoyed the effect it was having on him.

Though laughter right now was mostly just an anesthesia: it numbs things, but doesn’t really address the cause.

When his laughter died down, he let out a long breath, “I remember pops had it on his back.”

You turned to look at him again, he was more relaxed now, one arm resting on a bent knee, the other behind him as a support with his other leg stretched out in front of him. Looking down at his chest, he placed a hand on it, “guess my chest wouldn’t be a good idea either.”

At his suggestion you found yourself staring at the terrifying mark marring his front. You gulped, seeing the crimson of the past. The crimson that had finally become a warm peach. A warm peach that rose and fell rhythmically with the breaths he took. A closed, covered, mostly healed warm peach.

“Hey! Hey! Breathe!” He poked at you.

You shook your head, blinked violently, and took in a deep gulp of air. Snapping your eyes to his face you were treated to his raised brow and remorsefully awkward grin. You pursed your lips petulantly. Looking away you answered, “I think we should avoid,” you paused, “tender areas.”

“Tender, huh?” He looked back at the great blue.

“I’m so grateful you’re still here,” you let it slip out as you too looked out at the sea.

He chuckled humorlessly, “you say that a lot.”

“It’s because I am,” you stood firmly by your opinion.

“I must’ve given you a real scare,” you hated how guilty he sounded.

“Marco told you, didn’t he?” You mumbled, hugging your knees to your chest.

“Yeah, he told me you wouldn’t stop crying unless you fell asleep,” he huffed out, “something about you not eating well either too.”

“I’m so grateful you’re still here,” you reiterated, looking at him, taking him in.

“You already said that,” he raised a brow at you, a corner of his lips upturning slightly.

“Just let me count my blessings Ace,” you rested your head on your knees.

He didn’t respond, but you could hear him shift a bit beside you. Turning your head you saw that wistful quality of his resurface on his face, the pretty features relaxing once again. You pondered on what he’d said…

“Hey Ace,” you raised your head and he turned to look at you, “what if you got it tattooed on your pulse?”

“Huh?”

You raised your arm up to reveal your wrist, pointing to the area you mentioned, “it’s one of the places you can check for a heartbeat.”

He stared at you, the gears in his head turning, “it’s a little less obvious than your back, and much smaller,” you continued, “but it’s still readily visible,” you looked down, “and it’s got something to do with the heart too.”

He was in your space immediately, “that’s a great idea!” You looked up at him, his eyes glimmering pools of molten chocolate. “You’re so smart! Thanks!”

“Happy to help,” you smiled back at him, and he pulled back a little, staring at you for a moment too long - ah, “what’re you thinking about?”

Much like you had earlier, the pirate blinked himself back to attention with a shake of his head. He looked away for a moment, scratching at the back of his head, a sheepish smile taking his features as his eyes flickered back to you, “‘s nothin’.”

“Fair enough,” you shrugged, “I’ll help you find a tattoo artist and get the design down if you’d like.”

“You would?” He lit up some more, sparks of his old vigor reigniting.

“Of course.”

-_-

It hadn’t taken more than a week or two to find a tattoo artist on the island. There were a couple and Ace found himself liking the older lady artist more, so you went on over to her with Whitebeard’s jolly roger proudly etched on a paper. The fiery man had burst into full-bodied laughter at the offended scolding she’d given the two of you: of course she knew Whitebeard’s jolly roger! The…late…Emperor had come and established a sort of peace over their quaint little island a decade ago or so, even going so far as to chase off some thugs from her little shop.

The former division commander was grinning from ear to ear when the artist sang his father’s praises. She did not withhold any of her opinions about how manly and handsome he appeared to her either. There was a small prickling in the back of your eyes, but you managed to keep it together, especially as a warm hand came to rest its weight between your shoulder blades. Turning to Ace, you were greeted with an equally warm grin as he excitedly told you he had a great feeling about this lady.

Oh! And that you did an amazing job finding her, “leave it to you to find such great people!” He beamed. 

“I’m so grateful I found you too,” you stressed, returning his grin with a smile of your own. 

Your delightful buddy froze momentarily before coming back to his senses, “thank you.”

“I’m happy to help.”

“Not just for finding the lady.”

“No thanks needed.”

“Though if I remember things,” he thought aloud, “didn’t I find you?”

You rolled your eyes, “oh no, a very good person found me.”

He chuckled lightly at your sarcastic tone, before your attention was required by the tattoo artist.

She did a truly spectacular job with the tattoo, and even provided the ointment he’d need to help promote faster healing. Over the course of tattooing the young man she seemed to realize you’d probably remember the aftercare instructions better than he would. 

She wasn’t wrong about that.

Ace felt like his tattoo was mostly healed by the end of the following month. The old lady had mentioned that given the location, it would take a while to heal fully though, so…You were the one worrying most days. Especially as Ace began to make the necessary preparations to embark back out on the seas again - he was healed enough for it, per the instructions and information Marco had left you with. 

It was a great deal of fun though, working on building your small ship together, you were just constantly worried he’d scrape himself and get the tattoo infected or something. He often shrugged it off, reminding you that he was made of fire after all, and could avoid scratches.

“Ah yes,” you nodded, “you’re hot in the literal sense.”

He burst out laughing again. He did seem significantly more lively these days. Especially following the tattoo. Though you weren’t sure if he’d slain some of the beasts within, or if the shadows had simply chosen to recede from the surface.

You got a glimpse of the answer one night as the two of you sat in front of the fire he’d started up, staring at the tattoo on his wrist while waiting for the fish and veggies you’d caught and scavenged earlier to cook. Your dear friend’s wistful quality resurfaced from the unfathomable depths that made him up, though with a tinge of nostalgia this time. There was a very small, very deeply fond, uplift to the line of his mouth.

You marched over to his side, plopping yourself down beside him, a basket of fruit and a knife in hand. He looked up at you, eyes reflecting the warmth of the fire beside him…or perhaps the warmth of the fire within. He was always so warm.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” he grinned and you could feel the warmth of domesticity mix in with his naturally warm aura and creep up on you.

Looking back at the basket of fruits in your lap, you picked up a pineapple, “well a little snack before won’t completely ruin our appetites,” you were about to begin cutting into it when he took it out of your hands.

“Here, lemme show you a neat trick,” he proceeded to twist the top of the pineapple off, hit the bottom of it on his knee, and forcefully roll it between his hands, “now you can pull out each piece, no knife needed!” He grinned, pulled a piece out and handed it to you.

You took it, impressed with the new piece of information, “that is neat!”

Silences had become increasingly common between the two of you. Tonight was no different, the two of you sat side by side, snacking on a pineapple, he did have to hand it over to you to switch out fish and vegetable skewers. At which point you decided to poke at the corner of his mouth with a piece of the fruit and he opened to eat it  without thinking twice. Given how your relationship had transformed over the course of his healing period, this level of closeness had also become commonplace between you two.

It didn’t mean anything though. It could be likened to the way you’d feed any of your close friends. 

You were trying not to fault yourself for wanting something more though. It wasn’t as if this feeling was new. Ace always burned so bright, and was so warm-and you weren’t unique in these feelings. What was unique about you, was the situation you were afforded. Again: it didn’t feel right to burden him with your feelings while he was essentially fighting for his life in a whirlpool of turmoil trying to drown him.

“What’cha thinkin’ about there?” He asked as he passed you a skewer of cooked fish.

You shook your head. You were a coward. You’d think almost losing him would push you to reveal just how important he was to you. Verbally reveal it that is. 

“Don’t wanna talk about it?” He nodded, understanding as ever. “Got it.”

“So you’re going to be setting off soon huh?” You chose to change the topic.

He hummed, stoked the fire a bit, and paused. He turned to look at you, brow furrowed.

“I’m going to be setting off soon?” He reiterated, confused. “You’re not coming?”

“Would you want me to?” You looked at him. “I mean, I remember you were upset over me staying with you when you were relegated to bedrest.”

“That was because you had better things to do than take care of me,” he bit back.

“If I wasn’t actively caring for you I might have gone insane though,” you worked to remove the skin from the fish, “it helped me.”

“You,” he tore into his fish with an aggressive bite, chewing in frustration, “you have your own dreams and adventures, and you wasted a whole year here with me though, the least-”

“Time spent with you is never wasted,” you cut in, effectively stopping his mouth from moving, “time spent with you, is never time wasted,” you repeated again meeting his gaze as he stared at you.

He just continued staring at you, with nothing but the crackling of the fire and the soft rolling of the waves filling the space between you.

He remembered to finish chewing and swallow his food soon enough though, blinking himself back to reality as he did so and looking at the fire he confirmed, “you’re coming with me,” his tone was firm with his conviction, “we’re setting sail, together.”

“Okay,” you nodded, nibbling into your fish, “I’m glad.”

He muttered something, or perhaps he whispered it, the words were stolen away by the breeze before you could make out what he said though. “What is it?”

“I wouldn’t leave you here on this island by yourself,” he shook his head, “not after everything you’ve done for me.”

“I did all that because I wanted to,” you drilled into him, “you don’t owe me a thing.”

Your brow pinched, your displeasure making itself evident on your face, “if you’re just going to befriend me out of obligation and guilt,” it was your turn to bite into your fish aggressively, “then leave me here.”

“I never said that!” He shot back. “We were friends before all this, and I’d rather die than lose you.”

“Please don’t talk about dying,” it was a quick, breathless, desperate request.

“Sorry.”

You shook your head, “no no I’m sorry,” your appetite was vanishing rapidly, “what you went - what you’re probably still going through - is worse than,” you swallowed thickly, tears welling up, “than me just watching it happen.”

“Hey,” you tried to wipe away the tears, fish skewer still in hand, “hey, look at me,” you turned to face your dear one - his intensity entrapping you.

He took your skewer from your hand, stabbing it in the sand next to his own. His larger palm enveloped your own as he pulled the appendage towards his chest pressing it right above his heart. You found your face warming inordinately-and it wasn’t because of your proximity to the fire. You felt the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he took deep breath after deep breath, felt the rhythmic - kind of quick - pounding of his heart.

“I’m alive,” he reminded you, “I’m still here.”

You nodded, bottom lip trembling, “I’m so grateful you are.”

He opened his mouth, about to say something, then looked away with a huff. His brows pushed down on his eyes, “I want to take you off this island with me.”

You nodded at him, hand still held above his chest, where you could feel his heart rapidly pumping blood to the rest of him - intact. Alive.

“I want to leave this island together,” you agreed.

“Then it’s set!” He grinned, and released your hand leaving it to fall limply to your side as he grabbed the skewers and handed you yours again.

That was also when he remembered the food he was still cooking. Seems he’d almost burnt the remaining fish, but they were thankfully saved just in time.

-_- 

Ace clearly loved being at sea again.

It suited him so well. Surrounded by blue on all sides, blazing his own path - own course through the waters. 

A child of the sea come home. 

You could see it in the way light seemed to dance off of him every instant of the day: the ethereal glow of dawn upon his defined features, the halo that the afternoon sun drew on his head, the gleam of the sunset on his back, or even the twinkling of the stars in his eyes. You could see how at home he was out on the restless waters.

Perhaps he was so at home on the restless waters was because he could actually see the restlessness? Maybe that was why when the sea calmed, you would catch him glancing back at his newest tattoo from time to time.

One of the times, he’d been laying down on one of your small sailboat’s little benches, his head resting near your own, as you sat on the floor of the deck beside him. He raised his hand up, staring at his wrist under the blanket of stars in the sky. You couldn’t help but notice, looking away from one beauty to another.

You weren’t too sure what possessed you in that moment, but you reached out a finger and began to trace the iconic crossbones and mustache embedded within your dear friend’s skin. It was as your finger finished dragging along the mustache that he maneuvered his hand so that his fingers could clamp down upon yours.

The first time he’d done this (held your hand) after the…after the war, you’d both been gripping each other’s hands like you were both on the edge of a cliff, afraid the other would fall to their demise if you let go. Though the first time he’d gently held your hand, you’d startled and he’d let go soon after. Of course since then, you’ve held him and been held by him as the grief of it all washed over you in waves. 

So anyway, hand holding didn’t mean anything. 

His thumb pressed down on the vein in your wrist, making you more aware of how fast your heart was beating. It didn’t really mean anything though - what he was doing right now. 

No matter how much you wanted it to.

When he stopped pressing down on your pulse, choosing instead to rub circles into your skin, you turned to look at him and meet his gaze as he gave you yet another of those bright smiles, leaving the heat to crawl up your chest and squeeze it.

-_-

When you arrived at the island the pose was pointing to the following day, Ace once again took your hand - to help you disembark. You spent the day scouring the place for new information, trying out the local dishes (with Ace falling asleep mid bite), and taking in the local sites. It involved a lot of you being dragged from corner to corner, your hand clutched firmly within his own as he led you around. By the time the evening fell, you both found yourselves on a beach front again, your narcoleptic buddy’s head on your shoulder as he snored away.

Hmm…you’d probably camp out somewhere near your Mini Moby tonight. Your brain couldn’t help but wander about as you played with the thick waves of Ace’s hair. You’d decided to do honest work for the time that the former Division Commander was healing. The reality was you’d been thrust into piracy due to your…”scholarly” pursuits, so of course you’d be doing honest work. It hadn’t paid much is all. After all, the island that Marco had left the two of you at was a quaint, quiet place that wasn’t too far from Saobody, and friendly to Whitebeard pirates. 

You had to admire his wisdom in choosing the place. It had both mountain and beach environments and a lot of greenery, so it would be soothing to the mind as well as the body. The local doctor was also very adept, and there was an extremely talented apothecary there as well. Marco had thought of everything.

You could hear your friend’s usual grumble, moan, and whine that he made whenever he woke up from one of his spells. The weight on your shoulder lifted, as his inky tresses slipped past your fingers as he sat up.

“Good morning,” you hummed jokingly.

“Morning?” He yawned, stretching out. “Did I sleep that long?” He was squinting at his surroundings.

“Nope,” you rolled out your shoulders, “I was thinking of setting up camp near the Mini Moby.”

He blinked at you, “food first,” and grabbed your hand to pull you up with him.

How he was so awake already was beyond you. Perhaps it was a consequence of having to deal with this regularly. 

“Usually you ask if the person is hungry first,” you huffed, working to steady yourself on your feet after being sat for a while.

“You aren’t hungry?” He blinked at you.

Truly it was fascinating how this man before you managed to be fierce, fiery, and beautiful one moment, and then absolutely boyishly adorable the next. “I am,” you nodded, your mouth pulling itself up and pushing your eyes into a smile.

Your dear friend stared at you in silence for a bit, before tugging you by your conjoined hands with a loud declaration of, “then let’s eat!”

And eat, you did. On the house too. Thanks to Ace’s battle prowess he managed to stop the restaurant from getting looted at gunpoint. It wasn’t some casual dine and dash, this guy was threatening the cook’s life!

Though Ace  likely cost the owner the same amount as what he’d have lost from the looting with how much the commander ate. The old man didn’t mind though. 

His daughter definitely didn’t either. You noticed her sneaking glances the pirate’s way the whole evening. You couldn’t blame her, even if you didn’t look directly at the sun, it was still impossible to ignore.

It seems that the personified sunshine in question didn’t notice her longing gazes as he, once again, took your hand to lead you out when you were both done. He was talking your ear off about Luffy again, just like he used to before…

…before everything happened.

The only difference was the way he was holding on to you this time. You found yourself squeezing his palm and watched as he stood at attention and turned to you with a curious expression, “what is it?”

“Nothing,” you shook your head, “I’m just happy.”

You were greeted with a warm silence following your layered confession. Soon enough he was squeezing your hand as well, “me too.”

You didn’t get to see his face as he began pulling you along again.

-_-

On the next island, your friend once again dealt with an issue. Well he dealt with it prior to you even getting there. Due to some Marine’s negligence, there were sea kings terrorizing the locals of said island. Three sea kings to be exact. You found that out when you were greeted with cheers as you docked right after helping Ace take them out so you could arrive safely. Free food, free lodging, among other things were offered to the two of you.

Given you had contributed somewhat, you didn’t mind, the food was going to be made from the Sea King meat anyway. You also didn’t mind much when all the joy resulted in a revelry with your companion at the center of it all. 

You sat, a mug of spicy cocoa in one hand, your cheek pressed into the other as you watched him, arm in arm with other men, children, and the occasional lady: smiling, laughing, celebrating. 

Were the shadows lingering deep within the waters? Or were they on the verge of bursting forth from just beneath the surface you wondered.

There was no denying you loved seeing this side of your beloved friend. Joy suited him well. You just couldn’t help but be concerned that it wasn’t unburdened.

Oh! He was looking at you now. 

He waved you over with an excited smile, to which you raised your mug of cocoa. That made him furrow his brow. Before you knew it he was marching over to you, snatching your hand again, and dragging you to join him. He was kind enough to wait for you to chug your cocoa…well…kinda. He chugged a bunch of it for you when you couldn’t get through it fast enough.

After attempting to do the local dance with him, and laughing along with the crowd at your miserable failure to do so, you were invited to eat some more. In true Ace manner, he fell asleep mid bite, causing everyone to panic. You on the other hand simply chuckled and did your part: lifting his head, wiping his face and his bangs, before gently placing his cleaned head on the table and adjusting his hair a bit. You then unpacked your shawl and transformed it into a makeshift pillow, before sliding it under your unconscious companion’s head. 

It would seem that display resulted in some misunderstandings as the lodging you were offered subsequently was a single room with a bed of a moderate size meant to be shared. You were too embarrassed to ask for a change given they’d given you this room out of their own generosity. The man to your side didn’t seem bothered by it though. Well, it wouldn’t be all that bad really. 

Or so you thought. 

Or so you thought.

Because the former commander was not a peaceful sleeper. You woke up as you’d fallen asleep for the most part. If you’d shifted while sleeping then it wasn’t anything too drastic. Ace on the other hand was a complete starfish. His forearm was on your neck, one of his legs bent over your stomach, with his head off his pillow and a hair’s breadth away from rolling off the bed.

And when his head did inevitably roll off, while you were trying to figure out how and if you even wanted to untangle yourself or not, it took the rest of him with it. As anyone who grew up the way he did would, his instincts kicked in and you found yourself being dragged across the bed while he crashed onto the ground loudly - groaning as he did. You’d ended up tightly tangled in the covers now, with part of Ace’s weight pulling it taut and making it difficult to roll out of the cocoon it had wrapped around you.

When you asked him to get off of your cover, he began apologizing, “ah jeez, did I wake you?” You hated the guilt seeping into every word. “Sorry.”

“Nope,” you shook your head, still tightly bound in the covers, “I woke up right before the disaster struck.”

He didn’t look completely convinced that was the case, so you decided to elaborate: “I was trying to figure out how to get up without disturbing your sleep, when you rolled off.”

He raised a brow at you, and you shot him a pointed look of your own, pursing your lips to further solidify your stance in this staring war. Seems like it paid off because soon enough his shoulders shook with his chuckles. You soon found yourself chuckling along, which of course reminded you that you were still stuck.

“Uh Ace,” you wiggled about, tugging at the cover still under his bottom, “a little help.”

“Oh yeah! Sorry!” He was grinning as he moved aside this time, going so far as to clamber up onto the bed again and help unroll your burrito self. He chuckled at your bedhead when you finally got free, his eyes crinkling and his dimples popping up as he looked at your disheveled appearance. 

It was weird. 

Feeling at ease and self-conscious all at once that is. He’d seen you in worse states, yet you still wanted to look pretty in front of him.

Though as his calloused hands came to pat down the mess your head had gotten itself into to help you get it under control, the emotional pendulum swung more towards being at ease. 

“Y’know,” he hummed as he continued to pat and play with your hair, “I think I like this look on you!”

Just like that you were slung straight back into unease, the heat clambering up your face. You groaned and covered your face, pulling away from him-and receiving a little complaint-as you threw yourself back on the pillows.

“What’s with that reaction?”

You turned away from him, still covering your face. “Oi!” His hand was on your arm turning you back towards him. “Don’t hide from me.”

You decided to peek out from behind your hands, “you know most people don’t say ridiculous bedheads look good.”

“Well yours does!” He grinned, ruffling your hair without any regard for how difficult it may be to style.

You huffed, lips gently curving upwards. You were blanketed by a gentle warmth, and it wasn’t from the sun. No this warmth could only be achieved in the presence of the man beside you. You let yourself look at him as you smiled - and he mirrored your expression. 

-_-

After that first day on the island you started to feel bad about not paying for things, so you decided to offer labor in exchange given the islanders wouldn’t take your berries. At the bath house you fixed a few things around the lady’s home, then bathed. When it came to the food, you washed some dishes in the back including all of the dishes both you and Ace ate out of. He helped of course. 

The rest of your day was spent wandering around, reading newspapers and picking up information from conversations. At one point the two of you separated to explore different areas. You found a cute little shop where you could make things out of wood. When its artisans noticed you staring, they invited you inside. They’d even taught you some basics before leaving you to your own devices with your own small slab of wood.

You became completely absorbed within the atmosphere the shop had to offer, completely losing track of time with the family of artisans as you all worked with gentle conversation flowing. You hadn’t fully realized just how much time had passed until you heard the breathless voice of your traveling companion, frantically inquiring if they’d seen you. Of course he noticed you soon enough, given you’d turned to look at him.

“There you are!” He beamed, relieved to see you,  before his expression flipped into something frustrated.

“Oh my!” The voice of a lady, who’d been patiently teaching you how to whittle, cut into your conversation. “Dear, we had so much fun we didn’t realize we’d worked ourselves well into the evening!”

Sure enough when you turned to the clock it was nearing 10:30 in the evening. The sun had set at least three hours ago. Oh. Looking back to Ace, you paid closer attention to the fact that he was still breathing heavily.

He’d been worried. 

But why? It wasn’t that late. What had he come across during his time wandering on his own?

Hmmm…you could empathize with his concern, though that wasn’t enough to completely appease you. After all it wasn’t like he didn’t go missing for hours on end. You still remember the panic of going about searching the island for him: especially when he was still in bandages!

“Seems like now you know how I feel when you go missing,” you stood up, patting the wood shavings from your project off your lap, and taking off the apron.

“You!” You could almost see the little flickers of flames coming off of his barely clothed shoulders. “I thought something happened to you!”

The father of the little family of artisans began laughing loudly, standing up to give Ace a pat on the shoulder, “now now, I know you’re frustrated,” then he leaned up and whispered something into the former commander’s ear.

Ace’s eyes met yours for an instant before his face and shoulders turned red, his eyes going as wide as saucers, and a little flame flared out from his head. When the older man laughed some more, the pirate tore his gaze away and put on his hat so it covered his face, grumbling, “thanks for the advice.” 

Looking back up at you-face still pink-he announced, “we need to get going.”

“Just a moment, I need to sweep away my wood shavings,” you responded.

“Why don’t the two of you stay for dinner?” It was the elder lady - the grandmother of this quaint family - that offered.

You smiled and shook your head, “I appreciate the offer,” then you jabbed a thumb at your companion, “but this man can eat twice or even three times his weight in food.”

“Hey!”

You turned to him, your smile cheeky, “I’m glad you can.”

That took the wind out of his sails entirely. It was a bit unfair of you, but you really were glad that he could eat like he used to. The whole event was settled and you were promptly shooed out, your shavings left on the floor, as they intended to work some more and there was no point in you sweeping before they finished. 

“Come back tomorrow to finish your work, alright sweetie?” Was the parting they gave you, and you agreed to return the following day.

Ace took your hand the moment you were outside the little family shop, grip tight on yours as he led you through the dimly lit streets. “I got us a room with two beds this time,” he said, eyes forward, “it’s at a different inn though.”

“Oh,” was all you could say, “are you - are you okay?” You squeezed his hand in yours. “I was a little insensitive earlier.”

The action made him halt altogether, his shoulders dropping the tension they were holding as he breathed out. 

“I saw some Marines,” oh. That explained his earlier outrage.

“What’re they here for?” You sped up a little to look at his face. “Do you know?”

“Remember those sea kings we took down?”

“They’re here to finally deal with them?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “now they’re just staying here because the island folk are mad at them for ignoring them for months.”

“Urgh.”

The corruption and hypocrisy of the Marines was something you had always been critical of. Of course this meant you were also privy to the hypocrisy and hegemony of the World Government (more like World’s Ratified Mafia). And of course such knowledge and attitudes were absolutely intolerable under their dictatorship so soon enough you had a humble bounty on your head.

Justice. 

They had gone and assumed themselves infallible deities: justifying all their behavior through the abuse of the word, they’d completely perverted the concept of justice.

Urgh the sheer egotism.

Disgusting. 

“I saw them not too far from the Mini Moby when I went there looking for you,” he broke you out of your angry reverie, “then I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

You squeezed his hand, “thank you for worrying about me.”

He squeezed your hand back, a silent “you’re welcome.”

“Good thing my bounty doesn’t have a photo right?” 

The marines could never get a clear shot of you for some reason…

“The most they had was a really awful looking drawing, like Blackleg from the Straw Hats!”

Ace’s lips pulled into a massive, very amused grin. 

You still remembered the way he’d laughed himself to the ground, little tears forming in the corners of his eyes when he first saw the wanted poster. Even Marco and…Thatch…had gotten a laugh out of it. 

“It looks nothing like you!”

“What do you mean?” You grinned holding the paper up to your face. “You mean my nose doesn’t look like a carrot?”

And they’d laughed some more. Ace’s laugh was especially memorable, his strong shoulders shaking, his freckled face completely consumed by unbridled mirth. You never stood a chance - sweet, with a smile like that?

You never stood a chance.

“They didn’t see you right?” After all, his wanted poster was much clearer than yours. 

“Nope,” he shook his head, “I’m keeping a low profile until we get back to the New World,” he winked at you, “like we agreed.”

“Good!” You squeezed his hand again.

Later, you’d squeeze his shoulder as you shook him awake. 

Nightmares.

You moved out of the way just in time as he gasped himself awake, chest heaving as he panted for air. He looked around frantically as you soothed him. Which was when he finally turned to look at you. You’d barely gotten a sentence out before he’d tugged at you, crushing you into his embrace.

Your nose was essentially being crushed against his right pectoral muscle. It hurt a bit, so you pat his back while squirming to liberate your nose. He loosened his hold for a moment and you quickly adjusted to be in a more comfortable position, before you were once again being crushed into him. 

You held him back of course.

But not before he could readjust his hold so that his head rested on your chest-more specifically his ear.

Oh.

You began tracing your fingers along his scalp as they weaved through his thick locks. Had his nightmare featured you this time? His grip on you only tightened, a shiver wracking through him before you heard a shuddering breath.

“Ace,” you hummed in an attempt to soothe him again, “Ace, I’m okay,” you tried to keep your tone soft, “I’m okay.”

He nodded, but continued clutching you, body trembling under trapped his emotions within it. You on the other hand continued to run your fingers through his hair, with him gradually getting heavier and heavier in your hold. His grip loosened slightly as his consciousness slipped - if you waited a bit you’d be able to slip out and back into your own bed.

Looking at him, you could see the remnants of his tears sparkle on his lashes. You wished he’d just let himself cry more openly, rather than fight to bottle it up. 

A quiet sigh left you as you looked at the man in your hold, people really were as beautiful as their souls. You continued to play with his hair, basking in the relative silence. 

You ought to tell him that to his face really. Your lips softly pulled upwards as you gently brushed his bangs from his face. 

You wouldn’t have dared to even consider doing that when you first met him: back when he’d convinced you his bravado was confidence. You knew better now though.

He’d probably still tease you if you did. His teasing made him just about intolerable to you initially. 

Yeah…your road to friendship hadn’t been the smoothest. You grinned at the memory, tenderly poking at the little furrow in his brow - coaxing him to relax. He’d very much made you regret your efforts to be kind(er) to him initially with his insufferable teasing. You were reconsidering altogether when he showed up and made amends after realizing he’d gone too far. The teasing remarks soon became playful jabs…which soon became thoughtful discussion when no one else was around.

You smiled at your dear-incredibly dear-friend, and readjusted yourself slightly thinking maybe you could go back to your own bed now. Of course no sooner had you started to consider that, than his grip on you tightened. You’d rather wait a little bit longer to make sure he was definitely asleep enough.

-_-

It was warm.

Too warm.

You found yourself regaining consciousness with a strain of agitation at the temperature your body had achieved while you were resting. You tried to kick off the covers in hopes of revealing your feet and cooling down, however you found that they were much heavier than they ought to be. It wasn’t until you heard a very familiar groan echo throughout the bones of your body that your eyes flew open.

Well…you’d figured out why it was warm.

Soon enough your friend’s eyes also opened, an absolutely criminal pout on his lips. You’d curse Ace’s luck with his genes if they weren’t why he suffered so much all his life. Though you didn’t get to admire him for long as he blinked himself back to the conscious realm, slowly realizing the position he was in, the position you were both in. At which point, a similar kind of alarm found its way onto his expression as he looked up at you.

“Good morning?” You tried.

That was all it took for him to hurriedly grant you freedom from his clutches…and some relief from the heat. Once you were both seated a respectable distance apart, though still on the bed, he shot you a sheepish look, “guess we didn’t need that second bed after all.”

You found yourself snickering at his comment, him joining in soon after, and with that any and all tension was cast away. You went back to your bed, slipped under the cool sheets and slept for a little longer too. So there was a use for the bed after all.

-_-

The rest of the day went well after the initial surprise and awkwardness. You went back to the wood whittling shop and Ace…well he went about doing his own thing. He came back to find you around night time, he’d already stocked the ship up, and set up camp as this time you’d be camping around the Mini Moby. The pose would reset as of dawn of the following day after all.

Bidding farewell to the quaint little family, you couldn’t help but think back to your own, way back on your home island. You did your best not to let your emotions choke you up. Though it was particularly difficult to hold them all in while you were hugging the lady who was old enough to be your aunt and then the grandmother. It was a pleasant surprise when the lovely family invited you to spend the night chatting until it would be time to leave.

“Hey! I can go catch us some wild animal,” your companion raised a brow at you with a smug little grin pulling at the corner of his lips, so you don’t have to worry about how much we eat, was the part he left unsaid.

“Would that be okay with everyone?” You turned to the homey family, who had absolutely no qualms with the suggestion.

The evening zoomed by: you had a fun dinner, exchanged stories over tea and biscuits, and even played some fun family games. It was after the elderly had retired, and your companion had, true to his nature, fallen asleep mid-bite again, that the more sensitive questions were brought up. In true auntie nature, the auntie-aged lady asked about your “husband,” especially given your lack of wedding bands.

You smiled at the auntie while heating up. She wasn’t wrong in her assumption. Prior to letting you escape with the then-captain of the Spade Pirates, your parents had you and Ace sign a marriage contract.

You appreciated him deeply for going along with it. That your parents would let you marry a wanted man though, even if it was supposedly just on paper, even if it was just for the sake of preserving your honor and dignity, showed just how dire and desperate a situation it had been. That he’d gone along with it though…and was remaining true to the agreements made with your family too…

For a pirate, he was an honorable and trustworthy man.

Then again…even the fearsome Whitebeard had more honor than the allegedly just marines.

So anyway, you didn’t correct the auntie, instead nodding and saying how you two were currently sailing together. She seemed relieved that you didn’t correct her on your relationship status, but she didn’t need to know that it was just a marriage on paper.

-_-

“Mornin’ sleepyhead,” was the greeting you’d gotten when you’d exited the singular cabin on the Mini Moby.

Squinting at the light, you rubbed your eyes and grumbled, “there’s no way it’s still morning.”

“You’re right,” you blinked blearily at your companion as he agreed with you, “it's afternoon.”

Which earned a tired groan from you. Which in turn drew an amused laugh from Ace as he continued adjusting the sails.

“You had fun talking with them didn’t you?”

You hummed in agreement as you shrunk back into the cabin. 

“Hey! Where are you going?”

“Water, I need water,” you croaked, opening the door and re-entering the darker environment. 

It felt nice not needing to squint anymore.

When you made your way back out you were assaulted with another question, “how did they figure out we were ‘married’?” He asked you. 

“I mean if you look at them, they seem marriage oriented and traditional,” you shrugged, “it could be a case of them just getting lucky we were in line with their hopes.”

“No wonder you got along with them so well,” he approached you from the helm, “I had a feeling they reminded you of your family.”

“They did,” you nodded, taking a seat on one of the benches on the small deck.

“I remember your folks giving me a hard time when we just needed to get you off the island before the navy got to you,” he recounted.

“I’m relieved they didn’t arrest any of my family members,” you exhaled deeply.

“You got lucky that it was Smoker that responded to the call,” Ace grinned.

“My mother said the same,” you agreed, “in her letter she said that what Smoker lacked in fashion sense he made up for in reasonability and honor.”

“She’d absolutely hate my sense of fashion then,” he laughed.

“She does,” you deadpanned, earning an even more boisterous laugh from him, “but I think she’d appreciate knowing you kept your promise.”

He raised a brow at you, “you mean the one about not laying a hand on you?” He made a show of taking a moment to think, then, “hmm but I forced you to share a bed with me just the other night.”

“Ace!”

He burst into even more boisterous laughter, “I broke that promise almost immediately while we were on the Spadine!” He was clearly relishing in teasing you, “I was always laying hands on you.”

“You know what they meant by that,” you groaned, “and you only ‘lay hands on me,’” you huffed, “to save me from going overboard and keep me out of trouble! That’s the whole reason we insisted on the contract prior to letting me board the Spadine,” you stoof gesturing to him and then the boat you were currently on, “they knew that you’d need to grab me for my own safety.”

As if to prove your point the ship lurched and you almost went overboard. Luckily Ace had the muscle to pull you onto the deck-or well onto him really, as you came crashing into his chest…which was…still clothed! Seems he’d forgotten to take his shirt off - which was currently to your benefit, so you weren’t complaining.

Looking up at him as he held you to him, you gave him a dry look, “see what I mean?”

“Yeah,” he grinned at you, readjusting his hold on you as another wave rocked the ship, “but, I’ve been pretty handsy this last year,” he cocked an eyebrow up, “wouldn’t you say?”

You found yourself heating up. What was he trying to achieve teasing you like this? You instead sent him your most unimpressed stare and he laughed some more. 

“Everyone needs a hug sometimes,” you grumbled, “I wouldn’t call that being handsy.”

You could feel his chuckles from where he held you, you could hear them loud and clear through his chest. You needed to get some space between you. Though you couldn’t even begin to move away before the waves threw you onto him again.

The sooner the two of you regrouped with Marco, the better. You needed to get yourself under control. Having Marco around would help. Probably. You tried not to touch him any more than necessary as you gingerly removed yourself from his grasp and moved away a bit looking for a way to make yourself helpful.

“I think the island after this is Saobody,” Ace grinned tugging on the ropes for the sail as he deftly maneuvered your small vessel, “after that we can get to the New World.”

“Well we’d have to go to Ryuguu first,” you corrected, “I wonder how Madame Sharly is doing.”

“Madame Sharly?” He glanced away from the waters to raise a brow at you. “I thought you didn’t agree with her fortune telling.”

“I don’t,” you approached him to help where you could, “but there’s no denying she’s gorgeous,” you took a rope, “and soothing to listen to.”

“So I’m competing with a mermaid?” He shook his head.

“Competing how?” Was he trying to be the most soothing presence in your life or something?

Ace looked startled by your question, furthering your confusion. He blinked at you silently once before sheepishly scratching the back of his head, “it’s…nothing.”

“But how would you be competing with a mermai-” you found yourself nearly thrown off again by the ship lurching yet again. Your work on the ropes came undone as you held onto them for dear life. It wasn’t a moment and a large, warm hand helped pull you back up and helped you regain your footing.

You couldn’t help but notice the ink on your friend’s wrist as he gently pried the ropes out of your hands and secured them himself. You stood there for a moment watching as he deftly tied them up before shaking yourself out of your reverie and making your way to the helm instead. 

-_-

You actually ended up at Saobody Archipelago. Which was convenient. Now it was just a process of trying to get your little ship coated. Oh and to avoid marines and all that. 

Unfortunately the “friendly neighborhood ship coater Ray-san” wasn’t available. Only that made sense. He was with Luffy, training him. His partner was manning the joint though. You weren’t sure of their relationship status but, “if I were Mr. Rayleigh I’d make sure to at least attempt to propose to you.”

That earned you a chuckle from the lovely lady, “mmm some men can be cowardly in the romantic arena,” she was grinning.

Which was when you heard choking to your left - it was Ace, thankfully he’d started coughing. You immediately began patting his back, and then turned back to the lady, “So um Ms. Shakky, would you happen to know how to coat a ship?”

“Nope,”  Shakky took a puff of her cigarette, “I run the bar. Rayleigh runs the coating service.”

And he’s the most trustworthy man to coat the ship on the archipelago. Well…

“Can you suggest any other coating services?” You tried.

She hummed as she took a drag off her cigarette, before elegantly tapping out some ashes into an ashtray. Breathing out she grinned at you, “I don’t think you have to bother with looking for anyone else.”

Well that had the potential to be ominous.

“Are you saying he’ll be back soon?” It was Ace who was asking the question through his coughs.

“Oh did he say he’s on his way back?”

“No, just my intuition,” her expression looked fairly amused before it settled into something more cheshire. 

She was humming as she studied you, “I have to say you do have a way of making a woman feel appreciated dear,” she threw a wink your way.

“I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable,” you sheepishly returned her smile, “my friends and I used to ‘flirt’ with each other all the time to express our love for one another and y’know?” you shrugged. “Boost each other’s confidence, all that.”

Shakky rested her cheek on her palm as she chuckled at you, “it didn’t make me uncomfortable at all, it’s very cute,” she looked over to your side, “wouldn’t you say so Porto-chan?”

He sputtered, almost choking on his drink again, “way to put a guy on the spot huh Shakky?”

She giggled at him,before turning back to you, “I’m sure this was only between you and your girl friends, given Porto-chan’s reaction here.”

“Well I wouldn’t want to give any guys the wrong idea,” you shrugged.

“True,” Shakky tapped out some more ashes, once again glancing to your side. 

-_-

True to what Shakky had said, Rayleigh came back not three days later. When you mentioned that she had really strong intuition he’d let out an amused whistle and, “women’s intuition can be scary,” before regaling you all with the tale of how Shakky’d been on the mark with something else.

The Pirate Empress, The Most Beautiful Woman in the World, Boa Hancock herself, had fallen in love, and fallen pretty hard. You heard the beautiful woman whose presence you were currently in giggle with, “see, I told you Monkey-chan was pretty good looking.” 

“Scary,” Rayleigh grinned as he breathed the word, “you women and your intuition are scary.”

“Eh?!” Ace was the one to vocally react. “She’s in love with Luffy?!”

Somehow his surprise was what had you laughing. “He’s a real charmer that Luffy, isn’t he?” You beamed at his older brother who looked like a mix of surprised, proud, and disbelieving all at once…maybe even a tinge jealous? “He takes after his brother.”

His owlish stare turned to you, and you saw a little lick of fire escape off his shoulders. All the while you simply shot him a lopsided grin given one cheek was smushed into your first. 

You’d briefly met Luffy while with Ace in Arabasta. He reminded you of Ace in some ways: bright, bombastic, straightforward…reckless…and…very loving. There was one thing about Luffy though: you could say he was more honest about his feelings and less prone to prejudice - oh! Though you’d also say that while Luffy was dependable, Ace felt more responsible, which made sense given he was the older one of the two. You wondered what sort of kindness Luffy extended to the Pirate Empress that she fell for him.

“Whatcha thinking about there?” You blinked yourself out of your trance as you felt a warm finger poke at your forehead.

You looked up into your dear (oh so dear) companion’s eyes and felt yourself melt at the warmth they held, “I’m wondering which of Luffy’s traits caused the Pirate Empress to fall.”

He huffed, and you found yourself following the corner of his lip as it curled upwards, “he’s always had a way with people, that kid brother of mine.”

His gaze was distant, as though he was looking at something very far in the past. Or perhaps not that far away really, these descriptors could be relative.

“So how is Luffy?” You turned to Rayleigh. “Is he doing well?”

The old man’s expression could be described in a singular word: proud. “He’s got another six months of training by himself, but I’m sure he’ll be fine,” he turned his gaze to another person in the room, “he’s real excited to see his crew, and his brother again.”

The beaming smile on Ace’s face said more than words ever could.

-_-

The evening before you would depart for Fishman Island, you’d gone to take a stroll alongside your dear friend. The tree canopies got in the way of you being able to see the stars, but the bubbles twinkled in their stead. 

You turned to study your beloved’s form yet again. Your hands squeezed the straps of your pack, soon enough the world would know about him - that he’d survived. They’d be back to hunting him down, only with twice as much zeal. Marines and enemies of his late father alike.

“What?” He glanced at you, raising his eyebrow. “Do I still have salsa on my face or something?”

You shook your head quickly looking away, “I was just thinking about how, soon enough, you’ll be back to being hunted.”

“Are you worried?” You could hear his amusement, and he even had the gall to laugh when you scowled up at him. “Dumb question, of course you are.”

“Very dumb question,” you grumbled and he laughed some more.

“Hey! I’m pretty strong!”

“I still don’t want to see you get hurt,” you let out a long, tired breath, “when you’re back to officially being a wanted man.”

“Wanted huh?” He was again looking out into the distance, mumbling. “Wanted by everyone but the person I want.”

The person he wanted? 

“Who would that be?” You found yourself asking despite yourself. 

Despite the way your heart hammered at you begging you to remain silent. Despite the way your extremities lost heat. Despite the clammy feeling in your palms as they all but squeezed the straps they held. Despite the ringing in your ears. Despite the way your stomach sloshed as though you’d swallowed a sea storm.

It was such a dangerous question to ask. He’d just said with certainty that the person he wants doesn’t want him - that rules you out. For some reason your thoughts jumped to the Pirate Empress. He mentioned getting to see her while he was stuck in Impel Down.

You watched, your head feeling as though it was full of cotton, as his Adam's apple bobbed with a thick swallow. “Can I…” he wasn’t looking at you as he asked, “can I hold your hands?”

Did he know? Was he trying to hold your hands to let you down slowly? Ace was always a little clumsy with these kinds of things…or was he? He was kind regardless. You had to repay this kindness, so you plastered on whatever smile you could.

If Ace had found someone to love, even if it wasn’t you, you’d be happy for him.You could be heartbroken later, but happy for him now.

You nodded, feeling the pain in your joints as you unclenched them. Your hands were slightly trembling and cold as he held them in his own larger, warmer ones - oh this was a horrible idea! Your hands were starting to get sweaty! Instinctively you started pulling away, “wait my hands - sweat - they’re sweaty!”

“I don’t care,” he tightened his hold on your hands, and as he spoke you noticed, “so are mine.”

He looked at you, and he seemed absolutely convinced of something. You kept up your little smile. 

“I,” he swallowed again, bringing your hands closer to his chest, “I don’t think I can keep my promise to your parents,” a little flame escaped his shoulder as he said that, “I-” he pulled your hands even closer to him, “I want to be real.” 

What?

“I mean I want our relationship-er-marriage to be real!” He rushed to correct himself. “I want to be with you! But in a real relationship! Not just on paper! I want you - ah!” More flames escaped his shoulders as he got louder. “No! Not like that! I mean yes like that- but not just like that! I mean I want - can I?”

He threw his head back, a loud groan of frustration leaving him, meanwhile you just stared at him, brain abuzz as it tried to process what he was saying. He looked at you again, determined expression back full force, “can I be your husband? Your real husband? Can I be,” he glanced away before mumbling, “yours?”

Your mouth had opened slightly to let some air in. The world was almost spinning - save for Ace. The warmth that was flooding your body was practically dizzying. Something stuck out to you - well two things as your legs gave out and Ace lunged to soften your landing and crouch in front of you, in that silly way he always did, still holding your hands. 

“You can’t keep your promise to my parents?” You blinked at him.

“That’s what you heard?” He groaned.

“No I heard it all Ace,” your breaths were heavy, “my brain’s struggling to keep up,” you gulped, “give me a minute to catch up.”

“No, I don’t think I can,” he shook his head, cheeks fully flush as he looked away from you, “I want our relationship to be real… and my promise-it wasn’t a problem back then-but now..” 

He trailed off, struggling to make eye contact with you as he admitted, “now, it’s a major problem,” he shook his head at you seriously, “I can’t keep it. I want to have a real relationship - I’d regret not trying to have a real relationship with you.” 

He did not shy away as he concluded his confession, “the promise gets in the way.”

You blinked at him, finding the air suddenly too warm.

“Can,” you gulped, head still full of static and the sound of the heavy thumping of your heart, “can you ask me to be yours?”

He blinked at you confused by the response, so you pressed on, “instead of - instead of,” your bottom lip was trembling and you could feel heat radiate from your cheeks, “asking to be mine,” was this a dream?

Your heart did some kinda fancy somersault at the way Ace straightened at your last word, much like he would whenever he was excited about something.

“Are you asking me to call you mine, like that?” He leaned into your space.

You couldn’t help the way your whole body was zapped to attention at the giddiness that consumed it when the word: “mine,” left Ace’s lips.

He looked at you with an equal amount of giddiness upon comprehending what your question implied, and his bravado seemed to find him again - but more than that, it was hope that pulled his lips into a massive, luminous grin as he asked, “then, will you be mine?”

When your lips wobbled into a smile, he decided to continue on, “y’know be my wife? My real wife?”

Your head was moving up and down in agreement before you were fully aware of it, “yes.”

You barely registered the pure unadulterated joy, and maybe even the glimmer of liquid in your…husband’s eyes before he was pulling you into a tight hug, gurgled chuckles leaving him. You weren’t any better, you were practically clinging to him as you began to sob, the salty blobs washing away the maelstrom of emotions with liquid relief. You might have felt some wetness on your own shirt.

You probably had, with how he sounded wobbly when asking, “did I make you cry, darlin’?”

Which of course made your tears worse, as you gulped and tried to force yourself to be calm, “I’m just happy it was me.”

He chuckled, “who else could it be?”

Who else - well…wait.

“But, are you sure?” You let go to look at him, his brow furrowed and lips pursed in confusion. “Are you sure this isn’t just because of the past year and a half where all we had was each other?”

His frown deepened for a moment before it relaxed into something sheepish, “I think I started feeling this way since,” he paused to think about it, “maybe even before Pops took me in.” 

“You mean when you were still captain of the Spades?”

“You don’t have to sound so surprised,” he chuckled some of his nerves out, “you’re a real catch y’know?” He raised a brow at you. “I even had to play the husband card a few times back then.”

“Really?” You paused to think about it. “I remember us arguing most of the time back then.”

“Yeah, I remember I used to complain to Deuce about that,” he let out a hearty laugh, “but remember that time when everyone was celebrating-”

“And I found you sitting by yourself in the crow’s nest when I went up to hide from everyone?”

“Yeah,” it was there - the wistful quality to Ace, “that was probably when this all started.”

“Wasn’t I just talking about why I had a bounty on my head back then?” You tried to remember.

“Yeah,” he sighed out, “you were really passionate about it too,” there was a dopey quality to his smile, “and I couldn’t help it - you reminded me of my brother and I thought you were really smart.”

“Sabo?” You asked tentatively.

He nodded, “in the beginning it was because of that - I just wanted to be by you and hear everything you had to say, it made me feel like my brother was alive again.”

“That explains the way you kept nagging me back then.”

“Nagging?”

“That’s how it felt to me back then.”

He shrugged, “when we were on the Moby Dick though - I stopped thinking of Sabo, I just wanted to know what you had to say.”

“Really?” He chuckled as you lit up. You wondered if he realized how deeply his confession touched you.

“Really!” He grinned at you, and you felt a warmth wrap around you like a warm blanket.

He looked so boyish as he shrugged, “ anyway, Marco tried to push me to confess to you after I woke up,” he grabbed your hand, tracing your knuckles with his thumb, “he told me all about how much I made you worry,” he turned your hand over in his, “but I was too scared to believe it meant anything.”

“Marco knew about it?” You asked when he was done.

“Everyone knew!” He chuckled. “Heck even Pops knew,” he grinned now looking at the tattoo that sat on his pulse, “of course they knew, I pulled out the husband card on some swabbies.”

He burst out laughing, “you should’ve seen their faces!” He calmed down. “It wasn’t so funny when the commanders heard me though-” he grimaced, but smiled soon enough. 

“I’m glad they did though,” he went back to rubbing warm circles into your skin, “forced me to reckon with myself,” he looked into your eyes, “put a name to what I was feeling.”

“Put a name to what you were feeling?” You breathed out - head as light as ever. “What did you come up with?”

You watched his shoulders rise and fall with the deep breath he took, as though steeling himself again. There was a ferocity in his gaze as it locked onto yours, “I was jealous,” he brought the hand he held to his lips letting them carve his answer into your skin, “whenever I saw someone else trying to win you over,” his hand squeezed yours as yet another wave of heat crashed over you, “I felt jealous and gross because it wasn’t like you were really my wife.”

“I’m not good enough for you,” what was he- “but your parents told me to protect you. And I would -will, and not because they asked me to. I just want to.”

“Ace,” you felt the warmth foment into wrath instead, “you’re confusing me,” you frowned, yanking your hand back, “what do you want from me?”

You saw it then, a flicker of the shadows of the monsters beneath the waters.

You loved Ace. You knew this. You knew that it made you lenient towards him at times. But right now…no. You needed clarity.You weren’t about to enter this new stage on shaky foundations. Because you loved him you couldn’t afford to be lenient about this.

“You ask to be mine,” you couldn’t help the way the fear seeped into your words, “then tell me you aren’t good enough for me,” you looked away with a frown, “I know you don’t have the best idea about yourself, but…just…” you were struggling to put words to it, “what are you trying to achieve?”

When you looked at him again, his eyes were wide, his mouth slightly ajar. He probably didn’t expect things to go like this. Especially given you could have said they’d been going well initially, until you ruined things with your overthinking…but still…you didn’t want some kind of accidental or pity romance. You didn’t want Ace to feel indebted to you, or make decisions while confused or vulnerable.

Though as you looked at him, all the shock left his body, his singular brow arching in that unique way it did with him, while his lips curved up. “Hey, can I hold your hand again?”

“O-kay?” Where was he going with this?

He took your hand again, carefully spread out your fingers, and then pressed it to chest, right above his heart, like he had back when you’d started hyperventilating. He held it there and you could feel the rabid, slightly erratic pattern it was taking, “y’feel that?”

You nodded.

“You’re right,” he was sheepish, “telling you I’m jealous, and that I want you to be mine, and that I can’t keep a promise to keep my hands off of you makes it sound like I’m really horny, huh?”

He was laughing as you sputtered in embarrassment, and held your palm firm to his chest, “to be honest with ya, I really like having your hand on my chest here - kinda wish I wasn’t wearing a shirt really.”

“Ace!” You barely garbled out.

“I think you’re amazing,” he continued, holding firm - and you could feel his heart pounding under your palm, “and like you said, I hate the cursed blood I carry.”

“It’s not-”

“But you know how I said I want to live a life without regrets?” You stopped struggling. “I’m not good enough, never will be, not for you,” his hand squeezed yours, pushing it further against his chest, “but, I’d regret not trying to be good enough, I’d regret not shooting my shot.”

“How can you say that with such certainty?” You frowned. “What if I’m not good enough for you?”

“What’s that thing you like to say?” He hummed. “It’s my opinion?”

“I hate your opinion.”

He guffawed. “I’m a coward,” he confessed as he calmed down, “and a selfish bastard,” his smile rivaled the sun, “but I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, even if I’m not worthy.”

“You are,” you glared at him.

His expression went back to that charmingly confused one. “I’ve deemed you worthy,” you huffed - genuinely upset with how he was speaking about himself, “regardless of all this worthy-worthy talk, you’re the one I want to spend my life with too.”

You genuinely could not find it in you to care how cute his grin was right now, “and that’s the worst proposal I could receive!” You were fuming. “I hate it when you insult yourself like that!”

“I’m below you, but please accept me,” you scowled, “well no can do!”

His face fell at your rant. “I want an equal Ace,” you gestured with your free hand, “I want a partner, not an indentured servant! I don’t want to be put on a pedestal! If my husband isn’t willing to be on equal footing with me then-”

“Hey that wasn’t what I meant!” The object of your fury (and affections?) argued. “I’m just saying you’re out of my league!”

“That’s one thing to say,” you were rather animatedly ranting now, “and we’ll have to agree to disagree on that-because hot stuff you’re within a league of your own,” you continued what was likely years worth of frustration with his self-deprecation leaving you, “and for argument’s sake, let’s say you weren’t - that sounds like an excuse not to work hard to become worthy once I accept you!” 

“I didn’t mean that at all!” He cut into your rant. “‘Sides I already said I’m gonna bust my ass trying to be good enough for you!”

“Well that’s all any girl would ask for! You absolute dumbass!” You yelled back at him. “No one wants to hear their loved ones talk smack about themselves the way you do!”

“Just imagine we had kids one day and they hear their father talking about himself in such an awful way!” Seriously, where did this idiot come from? Talking about himself in such a terrible way. “What kind of lessons would you be teaching them? What kind of example are you setting? They’d learn to-”

“Kids?” He blinked owlishly at you - oh.

Ohhh…

Ohhhh nnnoooooo.

If he wasn’t holding your hand to his chest, you’d have put more distance between you two, but for now you’d have to settle for covering your face with one hand while looking away. It was silent for a long minute…was it a minute? You weren’t sure, but you felt Ace’s chest vibrate with a series of chuckles and braced yourself.

“You’re a real difficult woman to please, y’know?” You met his amused stare with your own unamused one.

“I don’t want to start our relationship on anything but a solid foundation,” you muttered, “if you don’t feel worthy, then put in the effort to feel worthy.”

His grin only widened, “y’know I’d take that to mean you want me the same way I want you.”

“I think that fact is pretty well established by this point,” you grumbled.

“If I understood everything,” oh he looked so smug right now, “then if I wanna tell you I love you, I can’t say anything about how you’re out of my league?”

“You think I’m out of your league.”

“Oh that’s right, because I’m hot stuff.”

He laughed some more when you rolled your eyes. His laughs died immediately when you said, “you are hot stuff.”

“Because…I’m made of fire?” He gulped.

“No.”

“I forgot how assertive you could get,” he blushed, stunned, “it’s been a while since I pissed you off huh?”

Your embarrassment was beginning to catch up to you, as you adjusted yourself to be able to rest your cheek on your palm. You were avoiding looking at him, even if he was essentially burning a hole into you with how he was unabashedly looking at you.

“That bit about our future kids…I never wanted any, but I’m starting to like the idea,” he was being such a tease.

“Yeah? Well, I want kids!” You huffed, still not looking at him.

“Mmm, even if they’re mine?”

“Especially if they’re yours!” You huffed. “You and the idiots in the World Government are the only people with such a weird fixation on Gold Roger’s blood.”

“Darlin’ you’re being really bold right now,” he was grinning, “how mad at me are you?”

“I’m livid,” you finally turned to glare at him, “you’ve been saying absolutely awful things about my d-dear darling husband! It’s-it’s unforgivable!”

One corner of his lips curled upwards at the way you stuttered, but the little flickers of flames popping off his shoulders revealed he was just as embarrassed as you were. “Sounds like,” he swallowed thickly, “sounds like you really like this husband of yours.”

You swallowed as you looked him in the eyes, “I love him.”

His eyes widened, then he scowled, “hey! I wanted to say it first!”

“Well, be faster next time!” You stuck your tongue out at him - wait. “You did though.”

“Ah! So you did hear me!” He pointed a finger at you, finally releasing your hand, letting it drop from his chest.

“Yeah,” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest, “but you were being mean to yourself, so I had more important things to deal with.”

“More important than me telling you I love you?” He looked at you incredulously. “For the first time?”

“Well maybe if you didn’t put yourself down right after,” you poked his nose with your index finger, “I would have focused on the ‘I love you’ part more!”

His eye twitched for all but a moment, expression indignant, “you’re really hot when you’re assertive y’know?” 

You sputtered at that and looked away to maintain some semblance of composure. You didn’t see that coming. He called for you and you looked at him again, “you asked me if I was sure about this.”

You nodded at him, frustration finally cooling down.

“I’ve never been so certain about anything in my life,” he declared, “I want you by my side, I want to be by yours, I want to spend the rest of our lives together until we’re nothing but skeletons in a grave.”

“I love you,” he stated it like it was as factual as the sea being blue, “even when you’re mad and yelling at me for confessing to you badly,” his grin settled for something more solemn as he asked, “what about you? Are you sure?”

“I am,” you nodded, “I want to build a life together. With you.”

“I love you,” he breathed it out like a prayer then, and you couldn’t help but describe his expression as reverent.

“I love you too,” you responded firmly as though it were an irrefutable fact, and you could feel your smile threaten to split your face in two.

“Satisfied?” He asked. “Is this ground solid enough for us?”

“I think so,” you nodded, “I want nothing but success for our relationship.”

“Me too,” he grinned as he ruffled through his pockets, from which he pulled out two velvet boxes. “I got these with-what did you call it again?” He grinned. “Honest money?”

You simply stared at the boxes in shock, then back up at your husband, then back down at the boxes. “What?” There was an amused lilt to his speech. “Y’didn’t think I would confess to you unprepared now did ya?”

You guessed you did, with the surprise you were feeling, as you tentatively reached for one of the boxes and opened it up. To your greatest fortune the silver band was clearly meant for a groom. Your eyes widened when you looked over and saw the ring he’d picked out for you, raising a brow at him you couldn’t help but wonder, “how did you get the funds for this?”

“I did some work around that island we were on,” he beamed, “and sold some of the gifts they gave us when we beat those sea kings.”

“It’s so pretty,” you admired what was going to be your ring, it reminded you a little of fire, the ruby red gem was cut in a teardrop shape however the surrounding gems were arranged in such a way that it looked like a flame, you giggled your shoulders relaxing, “it reminds me of you.”

“That right?” He smiled, removed the ring and packed the box up in his pocket, as he took your left hand in his, “I kinda wanted it to,” he admitted as he slid the ring on your finger.

While you were admiring your finger, Ace tried to grab the other box from you, however you pulled it out of his grasp, “ah ah ahh,” you tutted, “I’ll be the one to do the honors!”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “I really like it when you’re assertive.”

He laughed at you as you pointedly avoided his waggling brows until you had the ring ready. He already had his hand out for you to slide the ring into, seemingly more than happy to wear that symbol that seemed so silly to him…until now, you supposed as you slid the band onto his finger. 

“Should we say vows?” You asked. “Wait, didn’t they say the vows before the rings?”

Ace hooked his pinky with yours, “I promise - er - vow, to…” he gulped and you could feel him heat up, “love…you…uh until I die - for as long as I live?” He slacked. “I’m not great at this poetic stuff.”

“Then don’t be poetic,” you smiled at him, “just say what you want to say.”

“Then,” he tightened his pinky, “I’m gonna work hard every day to be a man worthy of being by your side,” he looked you dead in the eyes, “it’s true that it’s due to pure luck I even got the chance to get to know you, but I won’t ever let this opportunity go. I’ll love you to the day I die, and even beyond that if I can.”

“You already said that,” you smiled at him, “maybe we didn’t need to do vows.”

“I’ll say it every day if you want me to.”

Somehow…somehow…now that you had a ring on your finger, and with your pinky linked to his, and with him reiterating how strongly he felt…somehow…

All you could do was blink at him. 

This was really happening. 

The last remnants of indignation flickered away into the breeze that toyed with the waves of your beloved’s hair.

Oh.

This was…you were…Ace was…you blinked up at him, “is this real life, or am I dreaming right now?”

His determined expression was wiped off with one that was very unamused, “I’m out here pouring my heart to you - wait you dream about me?”

“Maybe once or twice?” You continued to gape at him. Noticing his own surprised expression, you shook yourself out of your trance, and pulled at your joined pinkies. “Oh-yeah, my-my turn.”

His gaze carried that same softness you’d seen for a while now as he waited to hear your vows, “I know it won’t always be easy, the same way painting a masterpiece isn’t easy, but,” you paused your joy teasing your lips, “I am determined to spend the rest of my life here with you,” you looked him straight in the eyes, “you’re worth every bit of love I have to give, and I’ll prove it through my efforts and commitment, I’ll work hard so you’ll never regret choosing me.”

“Never,” he affirmed.

“Using a negative term…feels rather…negative, don’t you think?” You thought aloud.

“Then,” he shook your pinky-linked hands, “I’m going to work hard every day to make sure you’re always happy you married me.”

“And I’m going to make sure you’re always happy you chose me.”

“Always,” he affirmed again, the two of you laughing at the repetition of the pattern.

“Pops was right,” he let go of your pinky.

“About?”

“He kept telling everyone to calm down and stop meddling because our relationship would happen in its own time,” he sheepishly scratched at the back of his neck, “though he did tell me not to wait forever after a while.”

“How long is a while?”

“A few months?”

“Oh pops,” you chuckled as you reached for his tattooed wrist tracing the mark of your late captain, “Marco found out about my feelings for you from Thatch.”

“From Thatch?” He looked surprised. “Marco knew?”

There was betrayal written all over his expression.

“That’s probably why he was pushing you to confess after the war,” you continued to trace his tattoo even as he shuddered, “Marco tried to get me to confess too.”

“He did?”

“It felt wrong,” you shook your head, looking up at him, “you’d nearly died, pops had died, I was a mess mentally, I figured you’d be a mess mentally,” you continued to shake your head as your breathing shallowed, “I told him as much, and he stopped trying to convince me.”

“How’d Thatch find out?”

“Teased me about hosting a wedding banquet given we didn’t have one because y’know?” Your smile was gentle as you remembered the late Fourth Division Commander, your finger resuming its path along the inked mustache. “I told him not to joke about that - and he figured it out immediately.”

“Then he went and told Marco?” Ace guessed. “Wait, I remember there being a day when you were chasing after Thatch on the deck, looking really desperate about something.”

“Yepp,” you nodded, taking in a deep inhale you traced the crossbones on your husband’s skin again, “got him to promise not to tell anyone else after I found out he’d told Marco.”

“Y’know, at that point I was already a goner for you,” he confessed, “and the crew already knew about me.”

A silence passed over the two of you, as you continued to play with the mark on his skin.

“To think…you liked me too?” He scratched the back of his head with the hand not currently in your clutches. “I mean back then!”

“Is it really that surprising?” You pressed down on his pulse a little.

“It’s just,” you looked up at him, “darlin’,” there was that sweet, sweet adage again, “you ended up on my ship due to pure dumb luck,” his hand moved to grab your own that was still tracing his tattoo, “you’re practically a princess in comparison to a pirate like me.”

You scoffed at that, “please, I am far from being a princess.”

“To me you are,” this might be the softest you’ve ever seen your friend, “and this isn’t me talking down about myself,” he poked you in the forehead, “you’re smart, you’ve got a family that wouldn’t hesitate to shoot me dead if I ever tried anything funny-”

You laughed at that bit, “my cousin especially.”

“She was more than ready to have my head and I hadn’t even done anything yet,” he laughed alongside you, “‘the only reason I’m letting you take her is because I have to! Who knows what they’ll do to her in the marine prisons.’ was what she said before threatening to hunt me down.”

You both laughed at that, “if she sees you keep me safe and make me happy she’ll love you, you know?”

“Love me like that?” He raised a brow at you.

“Maybe!” You shrugged.

“You see?” He gently poked your cheek with his knuckle, “you’re royalty. Way out of my league.”

“Technically you’re royalty,” you flicked his forehead.

“How?” His confused expression was absolutely adorable.

“Pops was an Emperor!” You beamed. “You’re a pirate prince.”

The two of you shared a laugh, the ridiculousness of the notion amusing both of you until, “oh that’s right!”

“What is?” Ace startled as you suddenly straightened up, shoving your hand into your own pocket, and pulling out a small wooden plaque attached to an adjustable black cable.

Upon further inspection it became apparent that it was a bracelet - one you’d whittled back at the little family’s shop. On the main plaque there was Whitebeard’s jolly roger, and it was surrounded by two wooden “beads” - could you call them that? One was a flame shape and the other a spade, you’d had to make sure they were thick enough that you could put a hole through either one.

“This is for you!” You beamed at him as you offered it to him.

“Did you make this?” He stared between you and the bracelet.

“Yeah!” You grinned. “I tried making your happy and sad faces, but it didn’t work out, so I made a spade and little flame instead!”

“You sure know how to make a man feel loved,” he gently traced at the jolly roger etched in the wood.

“I hope you always feel loved in my presence,” you beamed.

“I do,” he grinned at you, “so much it’s almost scary,” he held out the bracelet to you, “will you do the honors?”

“With pleasure,” you took the trinket out of his hands and slid it onto his bare, right wrist.

He barked out a laugh, when you went straight back to playing with the tattoo on his pulse. “What’s so funny?” You couldn’t help but ask.

“Nothing,” he shook his head, “I’m just thinking about how we could have been real years ago.”

“In that case weren’t we technically a real couple at that point? If everybody knew?” You rubbed your thumb along his tattooed pulse point. “Except for us, that is.”

“Mmm but I wanted to do, coupley things with you,” he wiggled his eyebrows at you, relishing in how that seemed to make you shy.

Though, it seemed like you weren’t one to simply let him have the last say. You weren’t looking at him as you took his tattooed pulse and brought it to your lips. He jolted at the sensation, heart leaping. Little flames flickering out of his shoulders as you made eye contact with him afterwards, “how’s that for coupley things?”

He was quick to grab and tug you into him, relishing in your mild surprise, “don’t you know better than to play with fire?” He grinned at you as he readjusted the hand that had found its way to your waist. 

“I remember being told I have to ask a lady for permission to kiss her,” he nodded his chin at your lips, “may I?”

You were too embarrassed to say yes, instead choosing to cover your face with your hands. “Ace!” You whined. “Have mercy on me.”

“I didn’t realize you were this shy,” he was chuckling, “where’d your bold attitude go?”

He guffawed when you let out an embarrassed screech at the reminder, “I was absolutely shameless earlier, don’t remind me!”

“I didn’t think so,” oh you could hear the smug grin on his face, “you felt more fierce to me,” he sounded closer, “it’s a real turn on, y’know?”

“Ace!” You garbled out.

He chose to press a little kiss to your forehead instead, “I’m not gonna push you, just teasing you a little is all.”

True to his word, he readjusted his hold, and repositioned the two of you so that he could hug you from behind. He was kinda like a koala bear in that regard.

“Hey Ace?” He gave a small hum in response. “Can I see your tattoo again?”

“You sure like playing with it huh?” He asked as he handed his hand over to you and you turned slightly in his hold.

You could feel his eyes on you as you pressed your thumbs into it, feeling the steady thrum of his heart. Once again, you brought his wrist to gently brush your lips against it, and felt him jolt. Finally you brought his pulse to your forehead, “I’m so happy you’re alive.”

When you turned to face him again, his cheeks were bright, dusted in those freckles you adored, as he smiled, not a shadow in sight, “me too.”

As always I am OPEN TO CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM, and would like to know if anyone seemed out of character. Please and thank you! Reblogs and comments appreciated!

Want more Ace stuff? Check out my MasterList

[befallenstars-archive]

This'll be my first time reading your work, Vana! May or may not have skipped a few fics in my queue to read this but let's keep that between us—

Lots of yapping and spoilers under the cut!

Before you go through my yapping, please know that I have my face buried in my hands with the last one bc it was Jing Yuan. It's not thirsty but just me being dysfunctional.

Other than that, I absolutely loved this fic. Very much so. The way you write the characters feel so fleshed out and they don't feel like a copy-paste of one another. Oh, don't even get me started with some of the scenes!

Sunday

I was not expecting to get right to it—

"Oh, my..." to "Oh, my—" real quick.

The way that the first part seemed so sweet and elegant. With the music and the scenario of a lovely ball happening before proceeding to such a scandalous scene has me giggling.

"Sunday was quite convincing when he'd lured you away from festivities..."

Was he? Or was the reader a little too willing to indulge in his mischief already? Oh, wait no I misunderstood that part. I'm sorry.

It genuinely feels so sweet that he'd look for the reader to recharge his batteries. As someone whose social batteries runs out real quick? I can relate.

But ofc, we're still going down the path of mischief nonetheless~

"He'd dropped to his knees..."

Now, let me tell you how quick my brows shot up. This man has been holding back so much, I just know it. His hands literally itching to touch the reader and now he finally has— and he is making sure to make the most out of it.

"...my angel"

Y'know, that petname has been growing on me recently. Scratches my brain just right somehow.

"...disorderly—"

The snort that left me. That is such an underestimation right now.

"You feel Sunday’s wings tremble along the press of your inner thighs as you reply..."

Now hold on. I think something about this tiny little detail changed the chemistry in my brain somehow. I would like to have a moment to recollect my thoughts.

“Well, do you believe that excuses such a sinful display, my angel?”

I think it was a bad idea to resume reading before I recollected my thoughts. Primarily because they completely slipped away from my mind now. I'm just staring at my plushie and malfunctioning a bit rn.

No bc it's worse that I can just vividly imagine his face in this scenario. It's not helping. Pls—

"But that reaction only makes Sunday chuckle quietly, almost soothingly before he’s letting one of his hands graze between your thighs—"

Thankfully, I am alone bc I'm unsure whether the whimper I let out was out loud or still in my head.

“Even under different circumstances, I would truly detest the idea that anyone else may have the opportunity see you in such a captivating position.”

Unfortunately, Cy's brain has completely shut down. Please wait a few moments for the system to reboot.

Mnh...I don't think I'll fully be able to recover from this.

Dan Heng

"You'd reassure him you had a great hiding spot. For one person that is."

Yeap...I know exactly where this is going. Also paraphrased bc I wanted it to fit in one thingy here.

“Pardon my frankness, but this was all your doing was it not?”

Oh, shush, the both of you. I'm pretty sure there was still time for the cognitive part of your brain to go 'this wasn't the best idea' the second you saw the cramped space. But ofc, who wouldn't pass on the chance to have your crush pressed against you so close?

*sighs*

Can I please take away March 7th for snacks so the lovebirds can have their moment? (I mean this all teasingly lighthearted)

March 7th and everyone in the Astral Express can hear the both of you at this point with your bickering—

My girl doesn't need to witness this. I would like to jump in and steer her away before she stumbles upon a particular scenario she's most certainly not expecting from a playful hide and seek.

Oh, just a random insert thingy of mine. I do have to say that I absolutely love the fact that I can hear the character's in their own voices during the dialogue. Like I can clearly differentiate it's Dan Heng/Sunday from dialogue alone. Love it.

“No need. She appears to be leaving.”

Dan Heng, I think the real reason is partly from competitiveness and liking the reader's proximity a little too much. Percentages being 20%-80% respectively.

Reader, I think it best for everyone's (Dan Heng) sanity for you to stop fidgeting.

Well, that escalated quickly...

A new hiding spot? I highly doubt you're referring it for the sake of the game at this point, lovely reader.

“It would probably be strange were we to emerge too soon. We s-should… hold back for now.”

Side eye. Just that. Fr. HAHAHA

Okay, this was both hot and fun to read tho~

Dr. Ratio

Ah, seems that not even this man can resist the reader's charm.

"But, you seem to have taken that opportunity for granted now as you both press up against a forgotten hallway in one of the many passages of the Station."

NO BC THIS NEEDS TO BE COUNTED AS A JUMPSCARE AT THIS POINT (and I mean this affectionately)

I just gotta blink a few times and re-read to make sure I got it right—

"That sweet tone is exactly how you ended up in this position afterall."

Listen, I'm not actually gonna ask for details. Just know that I am aware it is most likely the reader's fault regardless.

Reader out here genuinely downbad for him. Can't say I entirely relate since I'm pretty new to the game but have at it, sweetheart~

I don't know how you do it, man. You've got this darling practically begging for you, and you still play hard to get? Definitely stronger than me i fear.

Hmph...meanie.

Aventurine

Oh...my...

The way it took me a moment to realize the scene????? I'm just here with my hand over my mouth and feeling a bit flabbergasted.

"Not because he’s annoyed at the accusation, but because he’s annoyed this same man has been eyeing you for a little too long now."

Like it's the reader's fault she's hot? Take your problems with the guy. Then again, I am sensing sadomasochism from the reader so this might technically be a win for them.

This is by far the RISKIEST one out of all of them. Good gods. Oh...my...fanning myself a bit and chuckling nervously.

“Hm, won’t you do the honours?” Deliberately, before he’s pushing the deck of cards across the table to sit infront of you.

...I am now malfunctioning a little too hard.

A slight awakening of an exhibitionism kink from an Adventurine smut fic was not in my 2025 bingo card—

Jing Yuan

Oh, boy...why does everyone include him. The love and hate relationship I have for this man is so real. Give me a moment to psyche myself up bc this man unnerves me to the bone.

“And what about you, my dear?” He asks a moment later, leaning in a little closer as he lets his arm stretch across the back of the seat behind you.

I feel like a jumpy cat everytime I read a fic about this man. I'd stand like a cryptid and side-eyeing him a little too hard.

“Nonsense, you’ve come all this way. How could I give you the cold shoulder?”

It's always been this man's honeyed tongue that has me on my guard.

"— only to let it fall on the hard press of something else in his slacks as it reaches its destination."

Feeling very conflicted rn.

ASKJSAODJWIDHUS

I know this is meant to be a commentary abt the fic but I simply cannot focus properly because of this man. I am so sorry.

“Hm, is that so? Well, it’s only right I put this to good use, wouldn’t you agree?”

I am burying my face against my pillow and screaming right now. This man. I— He...*sobs*

“So won’t you humour me? It seems I have quite the excess of energy to burn through.”

I am at a loss for words right now. I truly and simply cannot with him.

That ends for Cy's commentary over this delicious fic. I would like to give my respects to the chef, Vana, for serving such a lovely meal.

യ TRYING TO KEEP QUIET, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

fem reader x sunday, dan heng, dr ratio, aventurine & jing yuan ( separate ) ; exhibitionism. petnames used; my dear, my angel. fingering. teasing. dry humping. f! oral receiving. sneaking around & trying to keep quiet. thigh riding.

word count. 885 to 1.1k max. ₊ 𓂃 return to masterlist.

౿ SUNDAY

You can still faintly hear the music from the banquet as you rest in the corridor just short from the hall. It’s quite a risky display really— your back is pressing tight against the wall and your elegant dress is hiked up around your hips, held there by hands that seem to tremble with your movements.

Sunday had been quite convincing when he’d lured you away from the festivities, a routine that you found to be quite comforting. You’re sure it was hard for him to entertain guests all night, you yourself always found the room to become quite stuffy quite quickly. So you were never one to deny him when it came to his want to have a little alone time with you instead — serving as an opportunity to recharge his batteries.

Well, that’s what you’d expected anyway.

But one could probably imagine your surprise when Sunday had pressed you up against the wall you reside on now, breathed into your mouth as he kissed you and trembled when you’d wrapped yourself around him in response.

It was unlike him to take initiative like this, especially not in such scenarios — but how were you supposed to deny him when he’d given you such a lidded, yearning look. Like he’d been holding himself back all night and couldn’t wait to finally have you in such a position, finally all alone.

He’d dropped to his knees a moment later to shove himself beneath your dress, and now you’re arching into his mouth like you’re not only mere moments away from a banquet full of esteemed quests. The thought of that in itself makes you tremble into the press of his tongue before you moan.

And you feel Sunday’s hands squeeze into your hips at the sound before he hums, “Keep your voice down, my angel. Lest I assume you want us to be found in such a… disorderly state.” The tone of it seems to tremble through you as his lips close around your clit, and were it not for his touch on your body — you think you would’ve collapsed to the ground right now.

It would be quite bothersome were someone to find you like this — you were both a sight, the Oak Family head especially as he rests on his knees now. His usual perfect appearance is mused, shirt untucked and gloves discarded on the floor at your feet. His hair is a mess, he’s sweating hard and the lower half of his face is wet — soaked.

But it feels far too good, and you’re so terribly hot, aching when you feel him roll his tongue along the press of your slick folds. And you reach for his hair to tangle it between your fingers to squeeze, “But Sunday… it feels so good! I’m gonna cum—“

You feel Sunday’s wings tremble along the press of your inner thighs as you reply, voice breaking beneath the next roll of his tongue and he closes his lips around your clit again, to suckle for a moment longer. Until you’re jolting and writhing above him, and he pulls away with a pop before he’s looking up at you. “Well, do you believe that excuses such a sinful display, my angel?”

His breath cools the spit along your pussy and you can barely answer when you shudder, “M-maybe, I don’t know.” Feeling something akin to tears collect prettily along your lashes as you look down at him with a wet blink.

But that reaction only makes Sunday chuckle quietly, almost soothingly before he’s letting one of his hands graze between your thighs— pressing through your folds to spread you lewdly with two fingers. “There’s no need to get in such a state of disarray, my dear. I assure you, we won’t go interrupted should you stay vigilant.”

He leans in again, pressing a soft kiss against your clit until it elicits a whine from you and it seems to be quite hard for him to keep his voice steady. “Even under different circumstances, I would truly detest the idea that anyone else may have the opportunity see you in such a captivating position.”

But because you know the reassurance that Sunday needs to continue, you don’t hesitate to part your lips to offer it. “Nobody else would. It’s only you.” And in turn, he doesn’t hesitate to lean in to bury himself in the slick surface of your pussy with his next breath.

It makes your back arch against the wall behind you, fingertips tightening in his hair to pull and you feel the way it makes his breathing stutter against your folds as he all but whines against you. He bathes you in kitten licks of his tongue, pressing the muscle between your folds to circle your clit — until your hips are humping up against his face and he mouths at you relentlessly, sucking and slurping as your thighs begin to shake on each side of his face.

“Hm, very well.” Sunday hums against you, barely audible with how deep he’s buried himself in your cunt. But you still feel every syllable. “Then you may do as you wish.”

౿ DAN HENG

You hadn’t expected it to end up like this after March 7th had dragged you both into a game of hide and seek on the Express. And you’d preached your case of safety in numbers when you’d found yourself hot on Dan Heng’s heels — very convincingly so at that when you’d reassured him you had a great hiding spot.

And you really did, for one person that is. You’d never really tested out the space with two and now that the opportunity has arose well… it’s a bit of a tight squeeze.

The storage closet that you and Dan Heng have both ended up in is barely able to fit you both, but you seem to have managed to make it work with your positions now. Though quite precarious, and a little too close for comfort as he almost stands flush against you— his chest to your back as you try hard not to make too much of a racket.

Your grumble to yourself as you struggle to get comfortable, “Why did you let me do this?” Shuddering, when you feel your friend behind you exhale out a sigh himself.

“Pardon my frankness, but this was all your doing was it not?”

You guess Dan Heng does have a point there, but then you’re fidgeting on your feet again and pushing up a little closer. You don’t notice the hitch in his breathing before you’re responding back, “Yeah, but you didn’t object to hide and seek or my idea.”

“Well I didn’t consider such a situation when we’d agreed to the game.”

“And i didn’t consider that you’d take up so much space.” You’re bickering like an old married couple. If they were to end up stuffed inside of a storage closet that is. But your argument seems to hit a stand still when you hear March 7th’s footsteps make their way down the hallway just outside of the closet.

You can both tell it’s her by the way she’s humming to herself — and suddenly the tension between you both feels a little thicker as you try to remain still.

“Don’t move.” Dan Heng whispers lowly to you when you fidget on your feet again. You almost sway in the already suffocating space, and he takes it upon himself to wrap an arm around your waist to keep you steady — closing the already non-existent distance between you both as you hold your breath.

The footsteps pass quickly, leaving you both to listen and wait. Wondering if March is still around or if she’s just trying to catch you both with your guard down.

“Is she gone?” You opt to finally speak as you move again, but Dan Heng’s arm around your waist only seems to squeeze tighter before he responds.

“I suggest you keep your voice down before you alert her to our location.” His words urge you to fidget almost impatiently, suddenly feeling a little claustrophobic. But you don’t realise just how tight your friend has you held up against him until you’re pushing your ass back into the press of his hips.

It makes you both gasp when you realise your mistake, and suddenly you’re feeling something hard press against your back as Dan Heng’s arm around you almost shakes. Though, unfortunately, the sound seems to bring those same footsteps back to the hallway of the closet, and you can only press your hands over your mouth as a way to smother your own voice.

You feel his next exhale cool over your suddenly warm features as he whispers down at you, “Just try not to move around so much. It only serves to make our current predicament more precarious.” But you’re burning up, not only because of the small space but with every no matter how subtle twitch, you can feel your friend behind you grow harder, hotter.

It makes your eyes want to roll back, “W-what? What do you mean? Should we just give up?” It was becoming quite awkward between you both, so you offer Dan Heng an out— as anyone would. But when his response to you is accompanied by him pulling you even closer, you assume you’re both feeling about the same.

“No need. She appears to be leaving.”

And when you listen closely, that does seem to be the case as you hear March’s footsteps begin their way down the hall again. Followed by a long sigh before the parlor door closes behind her and it’s just both of your bated breathes.

“Dan Heng, I’m sorry.” You say suddenly, and before Dan Heng can even ask what for, you find yourself fidgeting again. Though it’s more deliberate this time as you press yourself back into him, keening at the way his arm around your waist seems to hug you tight.

It makes him stiffen when your ass seems to wrap its way around his bulge and he mutters out the beginnings of a “What’re you—“ before it’s gone again with the next roll of your hips.

You don’t know what this means for both of you. But you know you don’t want stop as you feel his cock grind softly into you from behind, rocking you into the already tight space as you brace yourself on the wall opposite you with both hands.

Dan Heng readjusts himself for a moment before he finds a pace, and the new angle allows him to press his clothed cock between your thighs almost deliciously as he almost curls himself over you. The length of him pushes up against your sensitive folds through your clothes, and you have to cover your mouth with your hand again to moan.

“Do you want to find another hiding spot? S-somewhere with more space?” You ask, words muffled against your palm and stuttering in time with every grind of his hips. But he doesn’t answer you instantly, the head of his cock presses hard into the bump of your clit and it makes your thighs twitch.

Dan Heng offers you a soft kiss along your shoulder first, then a soft press of his fingers along your stomach before they’re travelling lower. The softness makes your head drop back, resting on his shoulder as he touches you and your legs almost buckle from beneath you completely when they rest between your thighs.

His eventual response accompanies the slow circle of his fingers along your clothed clit, and your bodies continue to hump against one like you have no intention of stopping anyway.

The already small space seems to only be getting warmer.

“It would probably be strange were we to emerge too soon. We s-should… hold back for now.”

౿ DR RATIO

You’re surprised that Ratio has allowed you to get this far. Infact, your surprise had began when he’d allowed you to accompany him around the Space Station at all — visiting a few researchers and tying up some loose ends before he began working on some newer projects.

He didn’t usually let you get involved in his work — not because he didn’t find you to capable, but because he thought you most likely had better things to do yourself. But when you’d given him that terribly cute look—fluttered eyelashes and an adorable blink—he’d only shrugged before letting you tag along.

But, you seem to have taken that opportunity for granted now as you both press up against a forgotten hallway in one of the many passages of the Station. The look Ratio is giving you is terribly pointed as he holds your features against his palm, eyes flickering down to where your thighs are closing tight around one of his own and even his gaze makes you flush.

“Veritas.” Your words purr, but he only meets them with a scoff. That sweet tone is exactly how you ended up in this position afterall.

“Oh, don’t call for me now, I am not the one to blame for you ending up in such an obvious state of desperation.” This was completely your fault, but all you’d wanted was a kiss— an innocent little one since you had been so patient and great company for him.

But as soon as you’d felt that first press of Ratio’s lips against yours ( after much convincing ), you’d forgotten just how good it felt when he twisted himself so perfectly into your mouth. He’d pushed his tongue between your lips to graze against your own and it only took a moment to have you whining, pressing your chest into his and quickly finding yourself crowded up into a corner between the wall and his huge body.

It had happened from there, he’d warned you to behave — to stop while you’re ahead because he knew how this was going to end up. But you’d only pulled him closer, arms curling around his shoulders until he was pressing into you — and his thigh seemed to slot between your own so perfectly.

But now you’re whining, almost begging for more as you grind yourself down on the muscle beneath you, and Ratio’s offering you a mere click of his tongue as your hands grab at his chest.“Though lest I remind you, I am the one with more at stake between the two. So I advise that you lower your voice.”

“Unless you are truly so desperate to give away our whereabouts.” His arms steady you regardless of how sharp his words may seem. Another sinful twist of your hips and you swear you feel the muscle beneath you tense, making you shake when it brushes quite perfectly against your clothed clit.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t wait I just.. can’t you help me?” Your voice wavers — far too unsteady with not only your want, but your need. Ratio knows exactly how to finish this quickly, should he see fit — but the fact that he’s making sure not to means that he can’t be as bothered about it as he’s letting on.

The noticeable bulge in his pants says enough by itself.

Your hands twist into the fabric at his chest and your thighs tremble with your next desperate hump, pulling him closer until he’s curling over you completely. And you feel Ratio’s breathe against your ear as his thigh presses in tighter, “You got yourself into this mess, you should’ve considered your outcomes before coming to this conclusion of all.”

“Though I can hardly see how you thought this to be the most appealing.” You give him another whine, the closer proximity doing wonders for your pussy as your clit grinds against the fabric and muscle of his thigh perfectly — making you shake as your pace wavers.

Ratio gives you a look that’s quite hard to read in your hormone-stricken state when you look up to meet him, close enough to feel his breathing fan across your cheeks. But the expression you’re wearing makes him scoff, almost… waver.

“A pity, truly.” His voice is tighter now, as are his hands when they squeeze around your waist — keeping you upright to make sure you don’t crumble completely. “Had you exercised more patience, well.. maybe I could’ve been convinced into assisting your efforts.” It’s a brisk little tease but it’s one that urges you to give him an incredibly sad, pleading look.

And it’s followed by another slow roll of your hips, the pleasure from your efforts making your thighs shake and jolt and despite the way you’re trying your best — you can barely keep up your pace with how good even this feels. But Ratio seems to have picked up on that already when he flexes his thigh again, deliberate and precise as he leans in to press his lips against your cheek,

“But it seems you’re barely able to withstand even this.” His voice seems lower now — crowding you into the corridor that’s deserted for now, but who knows when the next researcher will pass by to find you both in such a state.

Ratio seems to be more aware of that than anyone when he subtly presses his thigh up from beneath you, to bare against the soaked fabric of your damp panties and push even harder into your clit, until you can barely hold back your next moan. Even when your movements almost stop, his hands seem to rest quite heavily onto your hips as he urges you to continue.

Afterall, he thinks it’s best you see this through when he notices the quickly dampening spot on his clothes. It makes his hands squeeze into your skin as he tries to ignore the growing throb his cock, should you press yourself a little closer — your thigh may just brush against that aswell.

He clears his throat before his want suddenly shows, “Nonetheless, time is precious, wouldn’t you agree? So we shall soon see how far that enthusiasm of yours takes you.”

౿ AVENTURINE

It wasn’t unlike you to attend the Casino with Aventurine, afterall you were sure to turn heads and far too pretty for him to keep locked up in his hotel room. So what’s so wrong with a business deal turned date night? Especially when he went out of his way to dress you in the most luxury of garments, you blend right in when you’re wrapped around his arm and pressing up against him at the betting table.

Though with these little date nights came little games of your own — to make sure you stayed sharp, is what he would tell you. And even at that, there is no way anyone in the hall would have the nerve to interrupt you both anyway.

Which is why you’ve found yourself particularly close to Aventurine’s side tonight as he plays. You’re trying hard to focus on the game in front of you, but it’s proving to be quite hard when the gambler to your side is letting his free hand rest between your thighs.

The table you’re sitting at offers little to conceal the way your thighs are spread — were someone to walk past and take a look, your display would be quite obvious. But you’re covered for the men at the other side, which is why he’s trusting you not to give away your little game with any expressions.

You wouldn’t want to ruin his winning streak, right?

You half hear one of the men at the other side mention something to Aventurine, spitting something beneath his breath — a long winded way to accuse him of cheating most likely, given his own chips are close to being drained. But the man to your side only chuckles, continuing to let the pads of his fingers circle your clit through your already embarrassingly wet panties.

He drawls, “Oh really now?” Seeming unaffected, but you feel the way the confrontation urges him to press down on your clit harder. Not because he’s annoyed at the accusation, but because he’s annoyed this same man has been eyeing you for a little too long now.

Another mutter from the other side of the table, it lacks confidence — it’s more emotional, something about another game, all or nothing — you can’t focus enough to care. But Aventurine chuckles before you feel the cold press of his rings reach to pull your panties to the side, and your hands reach to grab and the end of the table to squeeze.

“Well, since you were so kind to invite me here tonight. What’s one more, hm?” The gambler to your side responds smoothly before he turns his attention to you. “How about it?” He makes sure to accompany his question to you with a soft swipe of his fingertips through your already soaked folds, so precisely that all you can offer him is a gasp and a rushed nod.

“Another game i-is fine.” You eventually manage and through your albeit cloudy gaze you can still see the way it makes Aventurine smirk.

Until his attention is back on the man opposite you both, “Looks like you’re in luck.” And he makes sure to reward you by slipping his index finger into your cunt with his next breath, hissing when he’s not met with much resistance and it makes you suck your lower lip between your teeth.

Aventurine’s pretty eyes seem to sharpen when his opponent gives you another glance, even if only for a moment. “Though I should probably warn you I’m feeling pretty lucky today, Friend.” And thankfully, the sudden low tone of the end of his sentence draws the attention back to him.

But because this is a game, whats the fun in not having it be a little challenging?

So as he watches the man opposite him fidget with his remaining few chips, Aventurine pushes another finger into join the first — angling them up against your sweet spot until he can feel your thighs twitch from where they’re pressed up against his. But then he speaks,

“Hm, won’t you do the honours?” Deliberately, before he’s pushing the deck of cards across the table to sit infront of you. And even though your eyes are unfocused you can still hear the deliberately honeyed tone to your lovers question. Though barely, when he emphasises his words by pushing his fingers deeper.

Your hands almost shake as you reach out to take the stack of cards, and Aventurine finds a pace as he languidly pumps his fingers in and out of your pussy, thumb rubbing hard circles into your clit as you try your best to focus. You shuffle the cards quickly, almost fumbling them when he gives you a few particularly sharp thrusts and you find yourself having to pause to breathe.

Your fingers twitch into the deck in your hands, and then suddenly you feel the gambler to your right’s lips press an open mouthed kiss along your cheek. It serves as something to keep you grounded despite the way his ministrations on your pussy only seem to be growing faster, until you can feel the pleasurable heat building dangerously in your stomach.

He doesn’t care what the other man across the table is doing, it’s just an innocent kiss for luck as far as he’s concerned. But if the music was a little quieter in the Casino he’d maybe be able to hear the squelch from beneath the table.

“Not gonna back out on me now, are you? I’d say your chances seem pretty good from where I’m sitting.”

౿ JING YUAN

It’s around 6pm by the time you visit Jing Yuan at the seat of divine foresight, one of the rare opportunities that you’re able to actually find him there given his preference to disappear in the afternoons for a nap.

The General always claimed it to be his more relaxing time of day, given how he’s already excused his advisor, Qingzu, for the time being. Meaning, all of his attention can now rest on you despite the endless amount of paperwork that still rests on his desk.

There are still a few stray Cloud Knights busying themselves by the entrance but despite that, it’s only you and Jing Yuan as you rest at his side now. Allowing him to entertain you with exaggerated stories as both of your thighs rest over one of his.

You’re giving him a gentle sort of look, and it’s one that makes him smile quite softly to himself as you listen intently.

“And what about you, my dear?” He asks a moment later, leaning in a little closer as he lets his arm stretch across the back of the seat behind you. “Is there anything you would like to speak of? We can talk about anything you want.”

Jing Yuan always looked at you in a way that made you feel flustered, finding yourself suddenly warm beneath the flicker of his amber-toned attention. Even when he’s at work he had no qualms about being affectionate with you, which is why he’s made sure to rest close enough for him to sneak in a kiss if he so wanted it.

But for now, he only teases you with that possibility— until you’re turning away to check on the Cloud Knights at the entrance. Making sure they don’t see your little show of PDA.

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to work, General? I was only dropping by to let you know I was making dinner.” Your lashes flutter as you respond to Jing Yuan’s earlier question, but you make no move to push yourself away from him. Instead, you continue to rest quite nicely, almost cuddled up against his side.

It makes him chuckle as he lets his free hand move to intertwine with yours, “Nonsense, you’ve come all this way. How could I give you the cold shoulder?” Bringing them up to place a kiss against your knuckles before his eyes narrow.

“I consider this a much deserved tea break from my work. Afterall, this time of day can be far too sleepy for me.” Jing Yuan’s words purr as he lets his lips linger along your fingers, his gaze locked onto yours with something akin to heat nestling its way into the swirls of gold. The look makes you swallow loudly before you adjust himself, squeezing your thighs over one of his own as you try to ignore it the ache between them.

“Yet you seem to be full of energy.” Your words are almost whispered, breathless despite how hard you tried to say them clearly.

But Jing Yuan seems to like that when he’s pulling your fingers away from his lips and guiding them down his chest next, allowing you to feel the soft press of the muscle beneath his uniform — only to let it fall on the hard press of something else in his slacks as it reaches its destination.

His voice turns lower, slower. “Hm, is that so? Well, it’s only right I put this to good use, wouldn’t you agree?” He guides your fingertips to wrap around him, palm pressing tight against his bulge before he urges you to squeeze and it makes him almost groan. “And, I think it’s safe to assume you came here with an intention in mind.”

“Jing Yuan, there are people here!” You respond nervously as you give the Cloud Knights at the entrance another look, but your fingers still squeeze around the heavy weight of Jing Yuan regardless. You allow him to move your palm to stroke at cock through his uniform and he knocks his thighs to spread even wider.

His eyes are still on you, “Oh? There’s no need to worry about that, my dear. I’ve seen to it that we won’t be disturbed.” And with his words you feel the arm that was previously across the back of the seat fall to curl around your hips, hoisting you closer as you stroke and squeeze your fingers around the length of him.

It’s risky, more so for Jing Yuan than you — you’re resting on the seat of Divine Foresight afterall. Were something to find you here….

But then the next particularly hard press of your palm against his cock makes his breathing stutter, and his hips tremble as he presses them up into your hand. Your train of thought is quickly given away with the squeeze of your own thighs at his reaction, almost licking your lips when the General lets his hand curl around your wrist to keep you there.

He knows your answer before he even asks.

“So won’t you humour me? It seems I have quite the excess of energy to burn through.”

star divider by @ saradika-graphics

[befallenstars-archive]

*rubs hands together*

Here we are again, folks! Nyla writing and I am ready to yap about this~

Spoilers and lots of yapping under the cut!

...the way I can actually here him say this though? Word for word it feels like the dialogue is coming from childe himself. Which is genuinely amazing in my eyes bc I'm surprisingly nitpicky about dialogues in fics.

Childe, keep it in your pants. Goddamnit.

Okay, but I do think a small Kaeya hiding behind the reader and clutching on to the hem if their shirt is adorable.

"You find it absurd your mother could travel the whole of Teyvat with nothing but a knapsack slung over her shoulders and a pack of cigarettes but Celestia forbid you decide to do the same."

Mothers...this feels a little too accurate *sighs*

The pack of cigerettes is WILD tho—

Reader, trust Childe. The man has money. I promise you that. If you don't like people spending money on you, it's alright. But the man genuinely has enough money to spoil you a little.

Aweee, at least he's being considerate.

"Staring at your beloved so shamelessly?"

Listen here...

I was genuinely lost in reading as I do when it comes to good fics. Getting invested and all that. Then this guys cuts in with this? Had to suck in a sharp breath and stare at the ceiling before letting out a curse.

HOLD YOUR HORSES—

Okay, snookums did make me giggle. But the following words that left this man's lips had me going "sir??? Calm down???" Starting to feel the reader sleeps with one eye open around this man/lh

"We're not even dating" "Yet"

His insistence and arrogance is oddly charming at this point actually. Wait, we must stay focused.

"Now, there are no more stories."

...damn, I got sobered up real quick.

"They're going to make me a Harbinger."

And we get another bomb dropped mid-way. Yes, I know that he has always been a Harbringer but to bring it up...like right now???

"A Harbinger," you repeat incredulously. "A Harbinger?"

Valid reaction honestly.

Listen, I knew there was going to be slight angst. But when Character A changes in a blink of an eye while Character B is left grasping at straws for what happened and why something so significant has changed— my heart cracks a litlle as I curl up in bed while hugging a plushie.

The ending leaves a bittersweet taste on my mouth. In short, if this were a series I would genuinely be binging it and maybe even have it on my calendar when the author might update.

Actually, the shorter version is that this was so good that I just wanted to read more.

one step closer

cw. f!reader (no pronouns or specified anatomy), pre-canon, pre-relationship, childhood friends, slightly(?) obsessive behaviors, slight angst

pairing. tartaglia x reader

synopsis. your mothers always swore one of their children would marry one day, making them both officially sisters. but for now, they'll take ajax escorting you from mondstadt to sumeru to pursue your education

notes. a christmas present for my good buddy @hash-slinging-slasher-trash. an unexpected comradery was built up between us both this year, so let's have fun in the new year! they recently got into genshin this year and, unsurprisingly, they've been bagged by mr. 11th fatui harbinger himself hehehe

"You didn't have to come all the way here for this."

"And break my promise to my beloved aunt? Perish the thought!" Ajax gasps aghast, clutching his invisible pearls. "Besides, why would I miss a road trip with my future wife? The two of us. Alone." Playful blue eyes glance your way accompanied by an equally playful smile. You give him a pointed look and Ajax raises a hand defensively. The red insignia pinned to his shirt glints in the sunlight at the movement. "I kid, I kid. Just a joke. We can save that stuff later."

"Or never," you reply without missing a beat.

"I draw the line at waiting until after our wedding night."

"You're incorrigible," you groan.

Ajax can only laugh, eyes closed and grin wide. When he's like this, he's like the Ajax you remember from when you were children. The boy who unabashedly declared he'd marry you in one of your earliest memories. Your mothers were only too happy to indulge him, long since having their own jokes about how one day their children would marry and make them officially sisters.

That had been how many years ago now?

Too long ago to recall. You simply know it had been the first time Ajax's family had come to visit your own in Mondstadt. It became a yearly tradition from before either of you were born for your families to visit one another.

According to your mothers, they became friends your mother's first trip to Snezhnaya. You'd been raised on a healthy diet of your mother's travels, your mother telling them to you much like they were old folktales. She told you about the various shades of the thunder sakura of Inazuma. How she spelunked in Natlan with a few friends you can't remember the name of. Even regaled you with dramatic stories of Fontaine's Opera Epiclese where she witnessed trial and opera alike and what she swears was a love story bubbling under the surface between the Hydro Archon and her Iudex.

All of those stories paled in comparison to her most harrowing tale of surviving a month long blizzard that ended with less importantly, your father, and more importantly, your mother's now lifelong friend.

That was all took for their future families to be intertwined and for Ajax to be a present as constant in your as the bards of your homeland.

A summer in Mondstadt here, a winter in Snezhnaya there.

A Ludi Harpastum there, a Krsnik Noc here.

You distinctly remember Kaeya's first Windblume Festival after the Radnvindr's took him in. He was more quiet and would cling to the figures he found most familiar, you included. Ajax hated it. Unfortunately his complaints and intense nature only led to your coddling Kaeya more, scolding the ginger for being insensitive. Presently, Kaeya and Ajax's relationship has improved little.

Ajax has been there for many a life event.

Now here Ajax is, your official escort on the first day of your own journey. It was the only way your mother would relax about your finally leaving the nest. You find it absurd your mother could travel the whole of Teyvat with nothing but a knapsack slung over her shoulders and a pack of cigarettes but Celestia forbid you decide to do the same. It isn't even exactly the same!

At Ajax's insistence, your things were already waiting for you in Sumeru. "My men can take it ahead," he boasted proudly, reminding you of his recent promotion. "It's no problem at all, honest. Save your money!" Your protests were promptly ignored, your mother more than happy to save on the mora she would have had to spend mailing it otherwise.

"Ajax, I'm serious," you remind him for the millionth time as the Dawn Winery slowly but surely grows more and more distant. Even with Diluc and Kaeya's strained relationship, they both insisted on having a celebratory before early in the morning before you left for Liyue. You wanted your quest to be on foot as much as possible before boarding a boat that would take you from Liyue Harbor to Port Ormos. "I don't want you guys in uniform when you move my things in. I don't want to be known as the Fatui girl at the dorms."

"Relax, relax," his words due to little to soothe you. "Seriously," his tone shifts from impish to straight-laced. "I know better than anyone how the Fatui is viewed abroad. I know you worked hard to get into the Akademiya, so I don't want to ruin that for you."

You hold each other's gaze for a moment longer before you sigh in relief. "Thank you." Another beat passes before you say it again, "seriously, thank you. You didn't have to take time off to come all the way to Mondstadt. And it means a lot to Mom too. You being here helped her calm down a lot."

His lips relax into a smile that's small, "of course I'd be here for something like this. It's a big deal! You've wanted to go to the Akademiya since we were kids. Is Erna going to be there or is she still in Fontaine researching water vein flowers or whatever?"

You nod excitedly, "yeah, she said she wants to show me around when I get there. She's gonna meet us at Port Ormos." Another piece of the puzzle in helping your mother acclimate to your studying in another country. "She's only staying for the week though."

Erna, a cousin of yours had gotten in years ago leaving little Springvale behind to see the world beyond the wind-caressed hills you grew up. Busy as she'd become after getting into the Amurta Darshan, when she was able to come home it was her turn to tell you stories about a world you couldn't imagine for yourself.

The fanciful cafes with their majestic fountains, the smell of spices of a place called Treasures street. It's hard to believe you'll finally be seeing it for yourself after so long.

"Think she'll be happy to see me?" Ajax asks suddenly, observing you carefully as you

Your cheeks hurt as your smile becomes something forced. "Well," begin.

Ajax barks out a laugh immediately, "you don't have to lie, I know she's not happy I'm in the Fatui." He sighs as the last of his laughter leaves him, nonchalant and unsurprised. You wonder, not for the first time, what would be enough to make Ajax the young man shocked or hurt. Considering how you heard his enlisting in the Fatui at the young age of 14 had gone, you doubt anyone's reaction to his being an agent can get under his skin. "Not that Auntie is thrilled either. I suppose these are the struggles of those in the pursuit of strength."

You refrain from affirming his suspicions. Your mother isn't thrilled but she refrained from expressing the opinion knowing she had little to stand on when her former husband had been a Fatui agent once upon a time. "If that boy's own father couldn't keep him from enlisting, I doubt anything I say will make him change his mind." The next time you saw your old friend after his enlisting, he surprised you for a visit when work led him to the land of freedom.

For the second time in the past ten minutes, your eyes look at his the red insignia pinned on his shirt. He's a lieutenant now.

He's moved up the ranks faster than you can blink. It's expected, you believe, with how many of his letters recounting his many assignments and achievements he'd sent.

"Staring at your beloved so shamelessly?" Cheeks warm, you push him aside. The movement does little to make him budge and he laughs when you try again. "Sorry, snookums, that's not going to work on me anymore. Don't let my acknowledgment stop you. Stare away! I'm pretty popular, y'know. Someone'll steal me off the market if you're not careful! We should have the wedding the moment we get to Sumeru! Why wait actually, we should turn back now and head to the Church!"

Your eyes roll into the depths of the Abyss, "we're not going back to the City for a wedding. We're not even dating."

"Yet."

"And I wasn't staring at you," you ignore his jest. "I was just looking at your badge. You have a new one every time I see you." A new insignia with a new scar or two or dozen to match. He has a story for each one, remembering every occasion he's earned a battle scar with crystal clear memory.

You remember how he's the same boy whose father would take the both of you ice fishing, telling you stories of heroes. Stories of his own adventures before he settled down to have a family. You never had the patience for fishing but you loved that man's tales.

The hobby has lost its magic since your friend became a soldier for the Cryo Archon. Ice fishing is simply another form in which he trains, reflecting on battles past as he endures the bitter cold. Now there are no more stories.

Ajax gestures at your the chain around your neck where your Anemo vision hangs with pride. "It's a badge of honor, much like the one you have yourself."

It's not quite the same, you want to say. "We're already almost to Liyue," you announce instead, pointing at the small bridge in the distance. "It's hard to believe it's always been so close to the Winery." You remember how it was a test of courage when you were younger. Diluc leading the charge, he dared the rest of you to see who could walk the furthest into Liyue. He'd always been the winner, you, Jean, Kaeya and Barbara unable to match Diluc's bravery.

He's a far cry from the rambunctious troublemaker he used to be.

"One step closer," Ajax notes warmly, accepting your change in topics with ease. "There's a tea shop at the Stone Gate you'll like called Pop's Teas. We should sit there a while, you can see the whole of the Dihua Marsh and the inn we'll be staying at."

That brings a genuine smile to your face, "I look forward to seeing it."

A thinly veiled comfort of silence falls over you both grass and gravel crunch underfoot. Your hands swing between you both and from the corner of your eye, you see blue peering at you. The back of your hand burns and you ignore the feeling swiftly.

It's Ajax, simply Ajax.

Soon enough after you arrive in Sumeru, you'd be going your separate paths again. You studying the stars, him on whatever harrowing assignment he is given. A far, far cry from the children you once were.

"They're going to make me a Harbinger."

The silence shatters much like ice and you blink, blood suddenly as cold as the waters of your friend's home country. "What?"

He says it as casually as one addressing the state of the weather. You halt your steps right at the edge of the bridge that connects the land between Mondstadt and Liyue, staring at Ajax's back. "This isn't ambition talking either," he halts, chuckling as he turns to face you. "It's official. Once I go back to the motherland, there'll be a ceremony and everything. You're the first I've told."

"A Harbinger," you repeat incredulously. "A Harbinger?"

The young man nods, "the youngest in the history of the Fatui." It's said with subdued pride, only a dash of satisfaction. "Of course, this was all part of the plan to conquering this world so it's not that big a deal. I'm just one step closer."

You open your mouth only to close and open it again. Your hands clasp together, fingers fidgeting as you search for the correct words to say. Congratulations? Wow, you really will be wearing another badge the next time I see you. You're really moving up the ranks!

"Not happy for me," it isn't a question as Ajax observes your furrowed brows and hunched shoulders. You lower your head, finding a nearby cryo slime bouncing on the water's edge grounding. "It's alright, you don't have to be. It doesn't change anything between us."

"When is it going to be enough, Ajax?" Your question is quiet. "What happened to you?"

'Ajax went missing for three days this month. He had the entire household in a tizzy, that boy of mine!'

You remember receiving that letter after you recently turned 15 from Ajax's mother.

Ajax has wrote you religiously since he could hold a pen. That was the one month he didn't.

The letters that followed have never quite been the same. He's never been quite the same. His eyes are duller than you remember. His lust for adventure had turned bloodthirsty.

How could someone change so much in three days?

"This has always been me," Ajax tells you without much else of a reaction. "You know me, I've always wanted to go on an adventure."

"An adventure, yes, but never this," you shoot back, fervently. Back then, Ajax happily brandished a wooden sword and would declare he'd be the world's greatest adventurer. He'd join the Adventurer's Guild and make a name for himself, fight a dragon and give you all the mora he gained. "I just," you pinch your sinuses.

The only sounds between you are ones from nature.

The croak of a frog, the gushing of a waterfall.

Ajax breaks the silence, head on as he always has been. "We're still friends, aren't we?"

You look up at the man, looking at you with eyes a mixture of familiar and unknown. You used to be able to read them as easily as breathing. Sometimes you feel as if you still can. That he's still your Ajax, face round with innocence and wonder. Now he is as mysterious as the heavens themselves.

Still you release a breath and nod, "of course we are. You're still Ajax."

A smile spreads across his face again and he looks familiar again. "Yeah," with that sorted holds his hand out for you much like a knight. He always said he'd be yours, you recall as you accept his offer like you're children again. "I'm still me."

[befallenstars-archive]

*ੈ‧₊༺ "SHE LOOKS JUST LIKE A DREAM,"

⤷ submission for @pixelcafe-network 's Secret Santa event !

— vice-captain hoshina seems to frequent the infirmary lately... perhaps it has something to do with the division's beloved medic.

characters: hoshina soshiro (kn8) x medic!reader contents: fluff, some injuries and blood, one(1) suggestive line but it’s for the plot, smooching, kind of getting together, slight spoilers for b side manga, inaccurate manga timeline wc ~ 1.8k

a/n: @purpleqilinwrites happy holidays from me, your secret santa ! 🎄 not christmas-themed but i hope you can still enjoy this humble gift i’ve prepared for you (see the end of this for more messages) <3

Remembering and differentiating people’s faces is usually something that comes naturally to people.

Be it your distant, distant relative, or a newly appointed work colleague, or even a fellow customer at a cafe you love. It’s easy enough to memorise each and every one of them, given that you’ve seen them a few times consecutively, of course.

Then again, it comes with the job to have a good memory anyway. Lots of scientific and biological names to be remembered, health conditions and symptoms to be identified, patients you constantly need to keep your eyes on. You have them all etched inside your mind.

There’s also that other circumstance, where forgetting someone’s face is as easy as brushing away a speck of dust from your clothes. People come, and people go. Not everyone that you’ve come across will stay in your life, and not every one of them will become a significant part of it either.

There is one thing, however, that you have stumbled upon, not knowing that it will become both of those things. Or rather, one person.

The first time you saw him was at the hospital right after the kaiju emergence at Ome city back when you were still a measly apprentice to a senior medic from the Third Division. Tasked to do one of his checkups, you’d overheard his conversation with your captain right before she left the ward.

His reaction baffled you, to say the least. Who in the world would reject a position offered by the Captain Ashiro Mina herself? After a thorough yet uneventful inspection on his condition, he was deemed to be discharged from the hospital a few days after, and along with that his presence from your mind.

Or so you thought.

The second time you saw him was a bit more coincidental. Months after that, when you were freshly appointed as one of the Third Division’s operational medics, you had accidentally crossed paths with him on the way to Captain Ashiro’s office, unaware that you were in the face of your soon-to-be Vice-Captain.

You didn’t know how, or why, but for some astronomical reason you’d remembered who he was. There were lots of people you’d bumped into in the past, people you’d medically treated, and people with even worse haircut (in your defense, that was only a mere observation on your part); you had no trouble putting them to the rear end of your mind as you knew they were nothing more than encounters by chance.

Aside from the fact that he’d rejected your captain’s offer, you’d wondered if there was something else about him from that first time that had rewired the very foundation of your brain chemistry to make you remember him as clearly and easily as memorizing the back of your own hand, even when you’d only seen him once before in your entire lifetime.

Unbeknownst to you, Hoshina Soshiro thought the same thing about you.

What is it about you, Hoshina had once mused. What made you so… unforgettable? Your presence had been lingering in the back of his mind from the moment you first laid your hand on him. After you’d left his ward months ago, the image of you has been foggy and indistinctive, almost haunting for him to deal with. And now that he had you in front of his eyes again, he was more than determined to know more about you.

The two of you hit it off then. One friendly conversation turned two, turned weekly, turned daily. Lingering touches, longing gazes, secret smiles, flirty quips. And the most unambiguous of all; the time spent together in the medic bay at any hour of the day.

It’s becoming a routine at this point for the Third Division members to see their second-in-command walking through the doorway of the infirmary with an injury or the other, some of them severe and some were barely considered a prick. The officers have suspected something, of course. But none of them are bold enough (yet) to confront nor pull the topic out in the open.

And so do you and Hoshina himself.

Though you’re totally aware it’s only a matter of time before one of you finally breaches the blurring line between platonic and romantic. Ironically enough, Hoshina with all his foxy eyed glory, seems to be the one to (not so) blindly step over the said line, all too keen on wiping it off like a silly drawing on a sandy shore.

“Hey there. Ya seem happy to see me,”

You grit your teeth at the cheery greeting, irritation piling over the concern and worry, overstacked by the fear wrecking through your body. Taking a deep breath to gather yourself, you step to the side to let the officers carry the battered body of the Vice-Captain to sit on a nearby bed. Soon enough, they walk themselves out with a respective nod to their superiors, leaving you in the still silence of the infirmary.

In your peripheral, Captain Ashiro stands beside the door with her arms crossed, a calculated look stuck on her youthful face before she straightens up, calling out to your name. “I’m leaving them in your care. I’ll be back in a few though,” Confused, you’re about to ask about what she meant when a mass of white fur enters your vision.

Bakko is staying here for a while then, you realize just as the Captain, too, makes her exit to the door. You let the feline kaiju make himself at home in the infirmary as you return to the task at hand; treating Hoshina.

Your next course of action proceeds swiftly and methodically; assembling the medical supplies and equipment, assessing the injuries, disinfecting the wounds and dressing them accordingly. All the while trying not to squirm under his obnoxious gaze.

“You were never this quiet before,” Hoshina breaks the silence, grimacing slightly as you’re currently treating one of his more severe wounds, one that requires stitching.

Your forehead creases slightly, “What do you want me to say?” You question, both in exasperation and incredulity. The swordsman lifts his good shoulder in a little shrug. “I dunno. Anythin’,”

“You’re stupid,”

Hoshina’s lips twitch slightly, “Mhm,”

“And reckless,”

A small smile tugs on his face next, “Yeah?” Slowly, and breathily.

“And - and… you weren’t being careful enough,” Your bloody hand shakes, the scissors you’re holding barely cutting away the remaining thread after you’d successfully managed to stitch his wound up. “Okonogi already said it was a daikaiju and you still insisted on fighting it alone. Who the hell does that?” You seethe.

One of his hands moves to hold yours, halting you just as you'd turned back from putting your equipment away. “You mad at me, sweetheart?” His nonchalant drawl causes you to snap. “I thought you were going to die, Soshiro. Of course I was mad!”

Suddenly there’s a quiet growl rumbling from the corner of the room, and the both of you immediately go silent. You look to the side to see Bakko with his mouth pulled into a menacing snarl, eyeing the other slumbering patients as if to remind you that you’re not the only ones in the room.

You huff, slightly embarrassed at being chastised in your own work space. By a kaiju, of all things.

Hoshina gruffly snickers before glancing at the feline, “He’s not Captain Ashiro’s companion for nothin’, huh? Think he can help around in the infirmary?” He jests.

You chuckle weakly, nodding a little at his injuries. “What, do you want him to lick it all better?”

It was supposed to be a joke, a casual inquiry made to lighten the mood, but Hoshina seems to think otherwise. With his bleary eyes, he murmurs, “I want you to lick it all better,”

Your breath stutters, the heart in your chest skipping a beat or two. Or maybe three? You can’t really seem to figure it out when all you know is that the blood pumping in your veins feels like you’re running a goddamn marathon around the division base.

Your body heats up at the way Hoshina’s gaze remains focused on you, those irises seeping with such intensity and passion, finely rich like wine and sangria. There’s a pull so magnetic, the minimal space where you’re starting to share breaths with him is charged with the tension between the two of you.

Your eyes drift down to his mouth for one quick second. A mere glance, shy and timid. And the next thing you know, you and Hoshina become a clashing of lips, wandering hands and blissful sighs.

Like a collision between two worlds; the connection feels intensely mind-blowing, like a surge of adrenaline that has you forgetting about everything else aside from feeling him, tasting him, consuming him. Your fingertips tingle from where you’re cradling his face in your hands, and electric zaps up your spine from where his hands are gripping you by your hips.

Your lips slide against his in a feverish dance, his tongue diving in to explore each and every crevice of your mouth. Another pleased sigh escapes from you when he nips at your bottom lip, soothing the skin with a gentle suck right after. Hoshina hums against your mouth, pulling you to stand even closer between his legs but a pained groan from him then makes you draw back, the desire to continue ravishing each other now replaced with a budding sense of concern.

“You’re pulling on the stitches,” you mutter, fingers lightly prodding at his medically patched skin. Hoshina shakes his head slightly and drops it to rest on your shoulder as he grunts under his breath, “You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that.”

You falter, a furious blush creeping up to your cheeks at his statement. ‘Why didn’t you do it sooner, then?’ You’d wanted to ask but just as he raises his head, you catch sight of the bloody handprints on both of his cheeks. You gasp in surprise, “Soshiro, you’re—”

You reach up to hold his face, though when you see your own hands stained with the blood from his wounds, a small laugh of realisation comes out of you. Hoshina snorts a little when he deduces the same thing, the room now filled with your combined giggles.

“All the more reason to stay here longer and get myself cleaned up, hm?” He smirks and leans back with his arms perched on the bed. You gnaw at the bottom of your lip, staring not-so-subtly at his slacked figure.

More work for you to do… not like you’re complaining anyway because he does not have any business looking so sinfully good with all those muscles and bare skin all roughed up and bloodied like that.

You inwardly shake your head to disperse the thought. Throwing him an eye roll, you scold him for moving around too much in case his injuries get worse, and that he should know better than to stay out of commission for longer than necessary considering his importance in the division.

Deep down, though, you’re glad that Hoshina Soshiro is there with you in more ways than one, holding your hand as you trudge through this new relationship blossoming between you two.

He stays, and he is significant. Forever will be in your lovesick little heart.

taglist open!

bakko is just there like 👁️👄👁️

💌 ; kaija my dear i’m so happy that i get to know you through the cafe network <3 really enjoyed all the convos we’ve had in the kn8 channel and i appreciate u sm !! you’re so sweet and so delightful to talk to and i thought that you are just the perfect person to be soshiro’s favorite doctor / nurse ^^ you seem like the type who'd be good at taking care of people, especially your loved ones. bet he goes to the infirmary a lot just to see u hehe (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) anyway, i hope 2024 has been nice to you. i wish you all the good things in the world, and that 2025 will be a better and sweeter year for you, love 💜

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[befallenstars-archive]

a little something before i continue working on other stuff. (gn!reader)

"working late again?"

hoshina glances up from his work, seeing you leaning against the doorway to the office with your arms crossed. his heart does a little pitter-patter in his chest just at the sight of your fond smile.

"and to what do i owe the pleasure of your visit, my love?" he greets, pushing his rolling chair back to face you when you start approaching. you only give a small shrug before stepping closer, now standing in between his legs.

"would it be too much if i say that i've been missing my husband?" you murmur, reaching up to trail the back of your knuckle down the slope of his nose gently. hoshina shivers, both at the label and the cool sensation of the ring on your finger when your other hand comes up to his nape.

"a little too early to call me that, no? i only just proposed to ya a few days ago." he teases, making you raise an eyebrow. "so you don't like me calling you my husband?"

"i also don't like my dearest betrothed disturbing me when i'm clearly working here."

you let out an offended scoff, turning around and starting to step out of his space but you don't get far. butterflies fill your stomach when hoshina grabs your wrist, pulling you back into his proximity. "'m sorry, 'm sorry. i'm only kiddin', sweetheart." he chuckles.

"you're not funny, hoshina." you roll your eyes at him before your hands are back on the back of his neck, massaging the skin to relieve the corded muscles underneath. "mhm, i beg to differ." he mumbles, burying his face into your chest and arms wrapping around your waist.

"also just sayin', but you're going to be a hoshina soon too, you know?" he drawls pointedly before his fanged teeth take a light chomp on the front of your uniform, right on your sternum.

you hum, "not if you keep joking like how you just did." your fingers grip his hair to make him release the bite, relishing the sound of his pleased groan from the pull.

the next few minutes are filled with a comfortable silence, just you and him basking in each others' familiar scents and warmth before you sigh, "i'll wait for you. make sure to come to bed, soshiro. you need rest." you sternly say, starting to pull away from the embrace.

"rest is overrated, don't ya think?" he jests.

"yeah, okay. i'm locking the door from now on. better get used to sleeping outside, husband."

"sorry, sorry! i'll be there soon, i promise!"

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[befallenstars-archive]

Oh, my...I did not read the 15k words part. However, we are here.

Before I yap— Eris, have I ever told you that there's something about the way you write that catches my interest? Can't really put it into words just yet. Maybe if I read more I'll eventually formulate that feeling into words~

Alright, spoilers under the cut! And LOTS of yapping~

Blade

Going for the single bed trope I see...this'll be interesting (¬ ͜ ͡¬)

Okay, but I do find it funny that the reason he wanted to share the bed was for the reader and him to get better rest. Only for the two of them to NOT get a wink of sleep. Reader toss

Love to see a reader that doesn't back down and even takes on a challenge. And oop— would you look at that. Nobody's really getting any sleep now. Hopefully, the bed frame's sturdy enough! And that the walls are thick enough for the sake of the neighbors.

"Knowing you did that to him-that you could make this cold, calculating man lose control-sent an electric thrill through you." Mnhmmm...I'm sure it did.

I think the maintenance of professional distance flew out of the window the moment he said they should share the same bed— to which was literally made for a single person alone. Also when the reader agreed.

Please, just fuck already—

Did I get slightly absorbed in reading that I forgot to make comments? Yes. Sorry. I actually came back to drop a comment about the headboard bc I'm praying for that thing to survive the night.

Also...whoooo *fans self* there's a reason I was a bit occupied with reading than commenting. That bit was VERY distracting.

Ah, a touch of sadomasochism. Love to see it.

Personally, I've always been weak when it comes to the magic phrase "pretty girl". Always will be actually.

Hey!!! The bed frame survived. At least they'll be able to sleep comfortably now.

And the softness of the ending. From passionate and almost feral but gently holding each other and savoring the moment <333

Sunday

THE TENSION.

Ohhh, the underlying yearning and fear of speaking out because of the status. Wanting to just close that small gap and yet it feels like such a wide wedge between two people who simply want to love one another.

I am unwell.

"Tell me to stop," he whispers, his forehead against yours. You don't.

What if I flatline—

Yes. Go, reader! Tell him! That man's holding back too much when he already has such a gorgeous being in his arms who clearly wants him. Stop trying to play hard to get, Sunday.

Did I get distracted? AGAIN? Yes. Yes, I did.

Came back to comment when he said that he'd be gentle. Oh, his constant reassurances, and the way he does his best to memorize and savour the intimate moment with the reader. I am sighing out dreamily and swooning into a fluffy couch. He's even focusing on the reader's pleasure and comfort!!

...all these praises have me looking the side blushing and fanning myself—

THE CONFESSION. I'M TEARING UP AS WE SPEAK. THE WAY HE'S BEGGING??? I'M ON THE FLOOR.

I actually wanted to pick a dialogue to put here and fawn over but all of them are actually too good. I can't pick one. All of them are just— URGH

"His arms wrap around you, holding you close. It's a protective gesture, as if he's afraid you might slip away if he lets go."

Lemme see if I can find that one specific meme that describes how I feel rn...

AHA! FOUND IT!

Did you know? I'm actually an absolute sucker for the lines that go "You're home". Very much so. That was the final nail to the coffin.

Agrenti

Oop— fanboy behavior, huh?

Ngl, I'm fairly new to HSR so I don't really know this character. But he seems like such a sweet guy. Deserves tons of kisses.

"He didn't know whether to laugh or combust." Pretty understandable if someone as lovely and amazing as the reader offers to be your first kiss.

...giving me a wolf hidden in sheep's clothing vibes rn. Interesting. Nvm, he's still a sweetheart <3

He reminds me of a bunny somehow. Like I just wanna pet him and reassure him that he's fine. Very adorable too hehe

Reader has this man completely in the palm of their hand, I fear. Dude is absolutely SMITTEN.

He's so sweet huhu

The ending!! So soft and lovely. Just two people just enjoying the connection they have.

Aventurine

I will never tire of the way you write the reader, Eris! The sassy and confident attitude? Oh, please! I might just started simping for her instead of the men at this point—

"I’m pretty sure the only thing you’ve carried is that overinflated ego of yours.” IM WHEEZING AS WE SPEAK.

“What can I say? You’re entertaining, like a fancy slot machine with nice hair.” *cue incoherent fox wheezing noises* NO BC I AM IN LOVE WITH THESE REMARKS.

I just know the dealer's just there looking up to the ceiling and praying to whatever aeon there is to let the reader and this man just get a room before he has to call for both security and clean-up service.

Was the gap between feedbacks a bit...lengthy? Yes. But in my defense it's only 'cuz a certain writer over here really knows her way with words on how to make the tension so thick and palpable that I'm too busy drowning in it to make any comments.

"Let me take care of you." I dunno if you'll be able to tell which part I am on rn but I promise you that I am absolutely blushing and burying my face against my pillows.

"He moans in response" I am currently dying from a nosebleed.

Unsurprisingly, I'm weak towards the specific petname "love"...

I absolutely adore the softness of it all afterwards. My heart's melting huhu

Dr. Ratio

*breathes in*

THE INTIMACY—

Good gods, I am over here just reading the first scenes and I can already feel the tension seeping into my bones. I'm just here with a hand over my mouth, and completely invested in the way this all unfolds.

This one feels so...intimate somehow. I can't really explain it and I am absolutely loving it. I think it's in the way that most of the time the reader is more fiery and sassy while here? It feels like there's a bit more depth to it. Such a good read and I'm literally still at the first part.

"Let's move somewhere private." Yeah, I agree since I recall Aventurine saying they'll be back in a bit. Hell, I'm not even gonna be surprised if they were in the shadows making bets about how this all goes, and didn't want to disturb the moment.

"His words were sincere, giving you an out if you needed it. But the way his eyes roamed over your face, the way his fingers tightened ever so slightly around yours, betrayed his own longing." + "Tell me you need me as much as I need you."

I AM WEAK IN THE KNEES FOR THIS.

"He stepped back slightly, giving you a moment to take in the sight of him..." Hands on my hips rn. I also had to take a moment to go 'Really?' with an exasperated expression on my face.

Devotion. First word that came to mind. I adore that so so very much.

I am feeling this fic was definitely the favorite child.

Wait. Just finished the fic. Lemme gather my thoughts. That— I...uhm..how...wow. Who knew a smut at 8AM could render me speechless in a good way, eh?

I just KNOW this fic was definitely the favorite child. Though the ending was a lot more bittersweet than I expected huhu

Jing Yuan

Ah, last but not the least. Unsure how to feel abt this one since I found him unnerving when I first met him in-game.

"Stop thinking so much." Goddamn, I wish it were a switch I could just turn off—

WELL, THAT THREW ME OFF-GUARD.

Was I once again sucked into the tension that I completely forgot to make comments? Yes. I'm sorry. It's not my fault. Eris writes them too well.

By this point, I truly have a love and hate relationship with this man. Do I still find him unnerving? Yes. But he also extremely attractive that it's unfair when matched with the honeyed-tongue of his.

Struggling rn/lh

...having even more mixed feelings abt Jing Yuan bc of this fic—

But alas! Setting that aside...

Eris, I am positively in love with your writing <3

༉‧₊˚. Turning Page ˚.₊༉

Ft. Sunday ノ Blade ノ Aventurine ノ Dr Ratio ノ Jing Yuan ノ Argenti

sum: unintended one night stands with hsr men wc: 15.7k (roughly 2k - 3k per part)

contains: fempovノpnv (unprotected), creampie, (protected in argenti's), oral (receiving and giving), fingering, handjob, college au in argenti's, royal au in sunday's, both had been drinking in ratio's, legal age gap in jing yuan's, loss of virginity (reader's in sunday's part & argenti's in his part)

a/n: argenti's just so sweet <333

༉ - 2k

The safe house was cramped and freezing, with bare walls that felt as though they'd been forgotten by time. The mission was far from over, and so was the night. Blade had insisted on sharing the only bed, his reasoning being that it made more sense for both of you to rest.

You didn’t argue, at least not openly—but as the minutes dragged on, frustration slowly began to creep in.

But beneath it all, there was an undercurrent, a taut thread of tension that whispered of something unspoken—a frustration you weren’t ready to confront.

The bed was far too small for two people. You could feel his presence constantly, his shoulder brushing against yours with every move you made. It was impossible to ignore the heat radiating from his body, or the quiet tension hanging in the air. The silence between you felt suffocating, far too thick.

You shifted again, desperate to find a comfortable spot, but it was futile. His warmth pressed into your side, too close for comfort. No matter which way you turned, there was only more of him—his body right there, almost too much. You tried to pull away, but the space was so tight you were only met with the sharp edges of the bed, forcing you back into him.

“Stop moving,” Blade muttered, his voice low and laced with irritation. But there was something else, a tension that hinted at a deeper frustration.

“This bed barely fits one person, let alone two,” you shot back, your tone tighter than you intended.

He didn’t miss a beat, “You’re welcome to take the floor.”

It wasn’t a real suggestion, the teasing smirk in his voice was undeniable. You huffed, exasperated, letting out a frustrated sigh as the bed creaked under the smallest of movements. It was maddening—this small space, the constant proximity, his body so close that your nerves hummed with awareness. It wasn’t just frustration anymore. Your heart was racing, and not for reasons you wanted to admit.

Neither of you spoke for what felt like an eternity. The only sounds were your breathing and the ruffling of the duvet. Then Blade's voice sliced through that quiet like a knife. "You're too tense," he said, softer than before but with an edge. "Relax.”

You nearly laughed. Relax? In a bed this small, pressed up against him, with everything swirling between you? It was impossible. Instead, you shifted again, purposefully leaning just a little more into him, testing his patience.

He stiffened, just slightly. "Stop."

It wasn't an order, per se- more of a warning beneath the restraint of desire. The space between you was alive, humming with an unspoken something. Perhaps it was that frustrated buzz of being too close, or perhaps it was simply fatigue from the mission.

"I don't think either of us is getting any sleep tonight," you murmured.

Blade's response was a low grumble, his voice rougher than before. "You're right." Then, ever so slightly, he moved closer, closing the gap until you could feel the heat of his body right against yours again. That subtle shift was enough for your breath to catch in your throat, and the space between you began pulsating with something far more dangerous than mere proximity.

He shifted; his eyes razor-sharp as he spoke, his voice low, almost too calm. "If you're going to keep fidgeting, just say what it is you want.”

You shifted again, your body moving against his in a slow, deliberate motion. The air between you wasn’t just charged—it was thick with unspoken desires and the undeniable pull of him. His heat radiated against your back, his presence a magnetic force that sent a shiver cascading down your spine.

"I don’t know what I want," you murmured, your voice a betrayal. The words faltered under the weight of their lie, and you knew he heard it too. You did know and so did he.

Blade's eyes narrowed, his gaze nearly predatory. "Don't play games," he warned, his voice low.

You could feel the hardness of his erection pressing against your ass, insistent and unmistakable. It sent an electric jolt right to your core, making your breath hitch. Knowing you did that to him-that you could make this cold, calculating man lose control-sent an electric thrill through you.

You bit your lip, fighting a moan as Blade's erection pressed even harder against your ass. The intense heat coming off his body seeped into your skin. You knew you should pull away, maintain the professional distance between, but temptation just proved too strong.

You arched your back, pushing against him. A low groan rumbled from his lips and you could feel his control slipping, his resolve crumbling under the weight of his need.

"Don't tease," he growled, low and rough with desire. His fingers gripped your skin, firm and possessive, leaving faint crescents in their wake. A warning, a promise. You should stop this—walk away before the fire consumes you both. But you didn’t. Instead, your body moved of its own accord, your back arching again, pressing your ass against him with deliberate insistence.

The low, guttural sound that escaped his lips was almost feral, reverberating through you and igniting something wild. Blade’s hand slid up your thigh, his fingertips grazing the edge of your shorts. You knew you should probably stop this but as his fingers hovered, promising more, the pull of temptation was too strong and you couldn’t push him away. You didn’t want to.

"Blade." you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.

His fingers curled around your thigh, jerking you closer. "Don't say my name like that," he growled, his voice low and rough with wanting. "Not unless you mean it."

You reached back deliberately, slowly, your hand finding his wrist. But instead of pushing him away, you pulled his hand higher, guiding his fingers to the damp heat between your legs. A low groan escaped his lips as he felt how wet you were, how much you wanted this.

Blade's fingers circled your clit, sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body. You bit your lip, trying to hold back a moan. His touch was electric, making your body shake with need.

His fingers slid lower, teasing your entrance, and making you ache for more. You arched your back, pressing your ass harder against his bulge. The friction was maddening; the heat between your bodies was almost unbearable.

"Please," you whispered. The word slipped out before you could catch it. "Blade, please."

The low growl was his immediate response, and his fingers slipped inside you. "Fuck," he growled, sounding rough with desire. "You're so wet."

You gasped as Blade's fingers plunged deep inside you, your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more. His other hand gripped your hip, holding you in place as he thrust his fingers in and out, setting a brutal pace that had you seeing stars.

"That’s it-" he purred, his voice low and rough, sending shivers skittering down your spine. His lips brushed your ear as he spoke, the words a seductive growl. "Take what you need."

The thought of his cock filling you, made your head spin. Your hand moved instinctively, fingers fumbling in a desperate attempt to free his cock. Blade's breath caught as your fingers reached around to his cock, stroking him through the fabric of his pants. You turned in his arms, facing him now, his eyes were dark with lust as you straddled him. "I want you," you breathed.

His hands gripped your hips,  "Are you sure?" he growled, his voice rough with restraint.

You nodded, your lips skimming his.

His resolve shattered. You reached between your bodies, your hand slipping inside his pants to free him. His cock sprang free, thick and heavy in your hand, the tip slick with precum. You wrapped your fingers around him, stroking him slowly, teasing him, delighting in the low, guttural sound that rumbled through his chest. Blade’s control cracked further as his hips jerked into your hand.

"I'm sure," you breathed, positioning yourself above him. "I want you to fuck me, Blade. I need it."

With that, you sank down onto him, taking his cock deep inside you in one smooth motion. A low moan tore from your throat at the sensation of being stretched and filled so completely. Blade's hands tightened on your hips, his fingers leaving bruises in their wake.

"Fuck," he growled, his head falling back against the pillow. "You feel so good."

You started to move, rising up and sinking back down, finding a rhythm that had sparks of pleasure shooting through your body with each thrust. Blade matched your movements, his hips snapping up to meet yours, driving himself deeper inside you.

The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and the slap of skin on skin, the bed creaking beneath you while you rode him.

"Harder," you demanded, your nails raking down his chest. "Fuck me harder."

Blade's response was to flip you onto your back, never once slipping out of you. He loomed over you, his eyes wild and hungry, his hips pistoning into you with a force that had the headboard slamming against the wall.

Your legs coiled around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper, urging him to claim you fully. A moan tore from your lips, unbridled and desperate. "Yes," you gasped, your fingers clutching the sheets as his cock stretched and filled you, the sensation both overwhelming and addicting. "Don’t stop—just like that."

He silenced you with a bruising kiss, his mouth crashing against yours with a fervour that bordered on feral. His tongue danced against yours, matching the rhythm of his hips, exploring and claiming. You met him with equal hunger, your teeth grazing his bottom lip, the taste of copper blooming as you bit down. The sharp pain only seemed to drive him wilder.

Blade’s rhythm faltered for a moment, becoming chaotic, each thrust harder, deeper, as if he was losing control. His breath was ragged against your mouth, his groan reverberating low in his chest. "Fuck," he growled, the word guttural, strained, trembling with need. "I’m so close."

Your nails raked down his sweat-slicked back, leaving fiery trails along his skin. "Me too," you managed between breathless gasps, your body arching into him, seeking the climax coiling tight within you. "Don’t stop. Please don’t stop."

His movements turned punishing, each drive a collision of raw power and desperation, his body demanding your surrender. The pressure inside you built to a fever pitch, a tether about to snap. Blade’s voice cut through the haze, low and commanding, "Come for me, pretty girl."

Those words, spoken with such command, were enough to send you over the edge. Your body convulsed, your inner walls clamping down around Blade's cock as your orgasm crashed over you in waves of intense, overwhelming pleasure.

"Yes -God yes!" you cried out, your head thrown back.

Blade followed, his hips slamming into you one final time as his release overtook him. His guttural groan was almost primal, his cock throbbing inside you as he poured himself into you, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm as some of his cum dripped out, running down your thighs.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The only sound was of your mingled breaths. Your bodies shone with sweat, were entwined. His weight pressed you into the mattress, exhaustion in his muscles.

Blade’s lips brushed against your temple, softer now, a contrast to the raw passion that had consumed you both moments before. And as your heartbeats slowed, his presence became the only thing you knew—a warmth, a gravity, pulling you under.

Blade rolled onto his back beside you, his arm pulling you close. You snuggled into his side, your head resting on his chest.

"That was..." you started, but words failed you.

Blade chuckled softly, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin. "Yeah," he agreed, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "It was."

༉ - 2.8k

The corridors are quieter than usual tonight, save for the faint echo of your footsteps and the sound of Sir Sunday’s armour as he walks beside you. You have done this many times before: this midnight escort from the ballroom to your chambers, accompanied by your knight. But there was something about tonight that felt different and maybe that’s because the event was hosted to find you a suitor.

The silence stretches, broken only by the soft rustle of your gown against the polished floor. His presence always feels heavier, and there's an edge to the air between you, something unsaid pressing against the confines of propriety.

"They were all good choices," Sunday says at last, in a low and even tone.

Your brow furrows. "Were they?"

He doesn't look at you as he replies. "I'd expect so. The court wouldn't invite anyone unworthy.".

You look over at him, catching the faint tension in his jaw. There's something restrained in the way he speaks tonight, something tightly wound beneath the surface. "And yet, I didn't choose any of them.".

He exhales sharply, the sound barely audible over his steps. “I’m sure you had your reasons.”

You slow your pace just enough that he has to adjust his stride to match. “Would you like to know them?”

His gaze flickers toward you briefly, a flash of gold under the dim light. “I doubt they’re for me to know, Your Highness.”

You stop to face him. The soft light casts shadows across his features, sharp and unreadable as always, but there’s something in his stance—a slight hesitation, the way his hand hovers just above the hilt of his sword—that betrays him.

"Maybe they are," you say, softer now, your voice barely enough to draw his attention fully.

For a moment, the distance between you feels insurmountable, though it's only a step or two. He doesn't speak, doesn't move, but his eyes search yours, as if trying to piece together what you're not saying aloud.

"I dismissed them all because none of them felt…" You pause, to think over the words. "....Right."

Sunday's grip tightens on the hilt of his sword. "You'll have to choose eventually," he says, deliberately keeping his voice neutral. "The court won't let you wait forever.".

"And what if I don't want to?"

The question hangs in the air, daring him to respond. You watch the flicker of something in his expression—surprise, perhaps, or maybe something deeper, something he’s worked too hard to keep buried.

“You’re the princess,” he says, but the words are softer this time, almost hesitant.

"And you're my knight," you reply, closing the distance.

He doesn't back up, but you notice the way his shoulders tense. "Exactly. And that is all I can be.".

Your breath catches at how his voice drops on the last word. There's no anger in it, no bitterness—only a quiet resignation.

"You think so, huh?" you whisper, not much louder than a whisper.

He turns away, tongue against his cheek. "I do."

You lift a hand before you can stop yourself, fingers brushing against the cold steel of his chest plate. The contrast between the armour and the warmth of the man beneath it sends a shiver through you. He freezes at the contact, his gaze snapping back to yours.

"Sunday…". His name is too familiar on your lips, but you can't stop.

"Don't." His voice is rough, but his hand rises, fingers curling loosely around your wrist. He doesn't pull you away, though; he doesn't move at all. "If you say anything else, I won't be able to forget it."

"Maybe I don't want you to."

The words have barely left your lips when he takes a step closer, erasing the distance between you. His eyes still remain so intense that they're pinning you in place, but there's a flicker of uncertainty there, too.

"This isn't a decision you can take lightly," he says in a low, hoarse voice.

"I already have."

He watches you, a silence building between you, gaining more and more weight with each passing second. Then, as if something inside him finally snaps, he lets go of your wrist only to frame your face with both hands.

"Tell me to stop," he whispers, his forehead against yours.

You don't.

His breath catches as you lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment. When you open them again, "I won't ask again," he whispers, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw.

You swallow hard, your heart pounding so loudly that you are sure he can hear it. But you don't step back. You don't tell him to stop. You simply tilt your chin up, just a fraction, an invitation he doesn't need twice.

His lips brush against yours, tender at first, then pressing. It's the sort of kiss that seems like one great confession, revelation, and promise all at once. His hands move to the small of your back, drawing you closer, and you can't help but melt into him, your fingers twisting in the fabric of his tunic.

When he finally pulls back, you’re both breathing hard. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide, and there’s a hunger in his gaze that makes your stomach flip.

"We can't…" he begins, but the words are half-hearted, not very convincing.

"We can," you correct, your voice steadier than you feel.

He looks at you for a long moment, something fierce and tender warring in his expression. Then, with a low groan, he surges forward again, capturing your lips with his own. This kiss is harder, more urgent, and you can feel the way his body trembles against yours.

“Your chambers” he mumbles against your mouth. “Now.”

Without any warning, he sweeps you into his arms, cuddling you against his chest as he heads down the hall. Your heart races with the sudden motion, but you do nothing to protest it-merely wrapping your arms around his neck for balance.

The castle is quiet at this time of night, most people having gone to bed. You feel as though you have the whole world to yourselves as Sunday carries you swiftly through the halls, his footsteps echoing in the stillness.

He doesn’t wait around when you reach your chambers: he kicks the door shut behind you and pins you against it with his body, hands roaming over your curves, mapping out your form through the layers of your gown.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he growls, his lips trailing hot kisses along your jawline. “Wanted you.”

You arch into him, your head falling back as you let him in closer. "Then take me," you whisper, fingers curling in his hair.

He makes a low sound in his throat, something between a groan and a growl. His fingers find the fastenings of your dress and begin to undo them one by one, till the fabric pools at your feet. You stand before him clad in nothing other than your chemise, the thin material doing little to mask the signs of your body's reaction to his touch.

His gaze rakes over you, hungry and appreciative. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist.

He lifts you easily and sets you down on the bed. The sheets are cold against your bare skin as he lays you down, his body following yours, looking down at you with an intensity that takes the breath from your lungs.

"You sure about this?" he asks low, his voice rough with emotion.

You nod, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life," you whisper.

That seems to be the only confirmation he needs. He bends down, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that sends a tide of heat through your body, his tongue plunging into your mouth to taste you thoroughly. You moan against his lips, your hands roving over his hard back.

His lips trail down your neck, tracing a path of fire in their wake. He pauses to suckle at your pulse point, and you can feel the way your heart races beneath his tongue. His hands slip under your chemise, and his calloused fingers skim the sensitive skin of your stomach.

"Sunday-" you gasp, arching into his touch.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. “Just relax.”

You do your best to listen, focusing on the feel of his hands on your skin. He explores you at leisure, learning every dip and curve, every spot that makes you sigh or whimper. By the time he carefully removes your panties, you're trembling with need.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with wanting. "Tell me if you want me to stop," he says, his fingers teasing at your entrance.

"Don't-please-."

He pauses, his fingers stilling above your pussy. His eyes meet yours, filled with a tenderness that makes your heart ache. "Are you-" he starts, his voice soft.

You nod, knowing exactly what he’s going to ask, "I've never…”

His expression softens further, if that’s even possible. He presses a kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips. “I’ll be gentle,” he promises. “We’ll take this slow.”

As you nod, he drops between your legs and his breath ghosts over your folds. He starts off slow, his tongue tracing delicate patterns and teasing you with light touches until, gradually, the pressure builds up, licking and sucking on your clit until you're gasping and writhing beneath him.

His hands grip your thighs, holding you open as he works you with his mouth. He is patient, very attentive, judging by your reactions and modulating his technique accordingly. When you're trembling near the edge, he slips a finger inside you, then two, stretching you slowly.

"That's it," he mutters, his voice muffled against your skin.

He groans against your skin, the vibrations sending shivers through you. "You taste so fucking good," he mumbles, his words just a little slurred. "Can't get enough."

As he continues to lap at your clit, his free hand slides down his own body, disappearing beneath the waistband of his trousers. You can hear the slick sound of skin on skin as he begins to stroke himself.

"Fuck," he gasps, his hips bucking into his hand. "Want to be inside you so badly."

He redoubles his efforts, his tongue delving deep, his fingers pumping faster. The dual sensations are almost too much to bear, and you can feel your orgasm building, your inner walls starting to flutter around his fingers.

"That's it," he encourages, his voice strained. "Come for me, baby. I want to taste you."

With a few more well-placed licks, you're there, crying out as pleasure crashes over you in waves. He laps at your release, his own hand moving frantically over his cock, his groans muffled from where he’s buried himself against your folds.

He easily settles himself between your thighs, his cock at your entrance. His eyes were filled with a mixture of lust and tenderness as he looked down at you.

"You ready?" he asks, his voice low and rough.

You nod, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. "Yes," you whisper. "I'm ready."

With a low groan, he starts to push inside, slow and careful with his movements. There's only a slight sting as he pushes in deeper, his eyes widening in concern.

"Does it hurt?" he asks, his brow furrowed.

You shake your head, reaching up to cup his face. "No, I'm okay. Please, don't stop."

He searches your eyes for a moment, then nods, leaning down to capture your lips in a tender kiss.

You can feel every inch of him as he stretches you, filling you in a way you never have been filled before; it's agonisingly slow, but he refuses to be selfish and make this about his own pleasure.

"Fuck," he gasps, his forehead resting against yours. "You feel incredible."

He gives you a moment to adjust, his hips pressed flush against yours. He starts to move, his thrusts slow and shallow at first. Each drag of his cock against your sensitive walls sends sparks of pleasure through you, and you can't help but moan.

"That's it," he encourages, his voice strained. "Let me hear you."

He increases his pace gradually, his hands gripping your hips for leverage. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with your gasps and cries.

He leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your moans. His tongue delves into your mouth, mimicking the rhythm of his hips.

"You're taking me so well," he praises, his breath hot against your ear. "Such a good girl."

His hips roll in a steady rhythm, each thrust sending sparks of pleasure through you. One hand slides up your side, cupping your breast and thumbing your nipple. The dual sensations make you gasp into his mouth.

"You're so beautiful," he breathes, his eyes locked on yours. "So perfect."

He shifts slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts. You cry out as he hits a particularly sensitive spot deep inside you.

"There," he groans, doing it again. "Is that good?"

You can only nod, your nails digging into his back as he drives you higher and higher. The pleasure builds with each stroke, coiling tighter and tighter in your core.

He groans, his hips snapping forward as he buries himself deep inside you. "Fuck, angel," he pants, his voice strained with pleasure. "I love you. I've loved you for so long."

The confession bursts from his lips in something like prayer, and his eyes shine with its vehemence. It is as though a dam has burst inside him and all his pent-up feelings are pouring out in this moment.

"I know you're s'posed to pick one from the court," he goes on, his pistoning never flagging. "But don't. Please. Don't give yourself to anybody else."

His hands clamp down on your hips, fingers digging in soft. "Choose me," he begs, his voice cracking. "Be mine. Only mine."

You can almost feel the desperation in his words, the raw need. It's readily apparent how the thought of you with another man is tearing him apart.

"I'll do anything," he whispers, his forehead against yours. "Anything to keep you. Just say you'll be mine."

His words are like a warm bath washing over you, filling your heart full of something that has nothing to do with physical pleasure. In this moment, you know without a single doubt that you want to be his and his alone. 

"I'm yours," you breathe, legs wrapping around his waist. "Now and always." He surges forward, capturing your lips in a reverent, passionate kiss. He picks up speed, his hips moving faster, harder, as though he's trying to pour every ounce of love he has into you.

"I love you," he gasps against your mouth. "I love you so much."

His thrusts grow more erratic, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Fuck," he groans. "I'm close. So close."

You could feel him throbbing inside of you, his cock pulsing with each stroke. Your pleasure was mounting to a crescendo as well, your inner walls fluttering around him.

"Come with me," he pleads, voice ragged. "I want to feel you come undone." His hand snakes between your bodies, finding your clit. He rubs tight circles around the sensitive nub, and that's all it takes. You cry out as your orgasm crashes over you, your body shaking with the force of it. 

He follows a moment later, his hips stuttering as he spills himself deep inside you. He falls on top of you, his weight pinning you to the mattress. His cock still is buried deep inside, pulsating with aftershocks of his orgasm.

He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "That was... incredible," he murmurs, his voice muffled.

His arms wrap around you, holding you close. It's a protective gesture, as if he's afraid you might slip away if he lets go.

"Stay with me," he whispers, his lips brushing your pulse point. "Don't leave me."

You curl into him, relishing the feeling of his body against yours. "I'm not going anywhere," you promise. "I'm right here."

He sighs contentedly, his grip on you loosening slightly. "Good," he murmurs. "Because I don't think I could bear it if you married any of them."

You smile, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his back. In this moment, everything feels right. The world outside might be chaos, but here, in his arms, you're safe. You're home.

༉ - 3.1k

Argenti sat on the floor of your dorm room, trying his best not to feel completely out of place. He’d been here a few times already—enough to recognise the familiar scent of citrus from the candles you always kept burning. But even so, it still felt a little surreal. You, the girl everyone at the university seemed to know and admire, had somehow invited him into your space.

He wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened. One night, a random chat at a party turned into shared laughs, then another conversation, until the two of you were talking long after your friends had left. Since then, you’d found reasons to hang out, even though it seemed to baffle everyone around you. You, the social butterfly, and him, the reserved guy who somehow ended up regularly meeting up with you outside of classes.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” you suddenly said, breaking the comfortable silence as you lounged on your bed.

“What’s weird?” Argenti asked, glancing up from the guitar pick he’d been absentmindedly fiddling with.

“Us.” You made a vague gesture between the two of you, the hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “I mean, we’re just very different”

Argenti blinked, unsure of what you meant. Was it a good different? Or a bad one? “I—I guess,” he stammered, his voice unsure. “But it works, doesn’t it?”

You tilted your head, studying him with an expression he couldn’t quite place. “Yeah, it does,” you finally said, your smile softening. “You’re sweet, Argenti.”

“Thanks?” he mumbled, his face warming up. He wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but the compliment made him feel a little lighter.

You laughed at his blush suddenly wondering if there was a reason he became so flustered over small things. Sitting up, you leaned forward, resting your chin in your hand. “Have you ever kissed anyone before?”

Argenti froze, his face going red in an instant. “Uh… why?”

You shrugged, clearly amused by his reaction. “Because you’ve got that look. You know, like you’ve thought about it a lot but never actually done it.”

“I don’t… have a look,” he muttered, but even his awkward attempt to brush it off didn’t work. “But no. I haven’t.”

Your eyes widened, and then you laughed—a genuine, playful laugh that felt more teasing than mean. “Wait, seriously? Not even like a dare or something?”

He shifted uncomfortably, looking anywhere but at you. “No,” he mumbled, feeling heat crawl up his neck. “I just… never really had the chance.”

You didn’t let up. “You’re telling me you’ve gone your whole life without even one kiss?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to,” he blurted out, immediately regretting it. He winced, wishing he could take the words back.

“Oh?” You raised an eyebrow, the teasing gleam in your eyes shifting into something more playful. “Are you saying you want to change that?”

“I—I didn’t mean—” Argenti stammered, his face burning. But then your hand brushed lightly against his arm, and he looked up to find you studying him, a mysterious glint in your eyes.

“You want me to teach you?” you asked, your voice quiet now, though still carrying that playful edge.

His heart skipped a beat. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to—”

“Relax, Argenti,” you said, leaning in just a little closer. “I’m not doing this out of pity. Trust me, you’re a good looking guy, pretty face.”

He didn’t know whether to laugh or combust, but before he could say anything, you were already moving in, your gaze locked on his as you tilted your head. “Okay,” you murmured, voice soft. “Here’s how this works. Don’t overthink it. Just… follow my lead, alright?”

He nodded, his thoughts jumbled as he fought to find his bearings. Then your lips brushed against his—gentle, almost tentative, testing the waters. It was quick, almost too quick, and when you pulled away, you studied him with an amused expression, clearly pleased by the way he’d reacted.

Argenti’s mind spun for a moment, still reeling from the sudden soft pressure of your lips. But as your eyes met his again, something inside him clicked. The hesitation, the awkwardness—it all seemed so distant now. This was real, and there was no way he was going to let it slip away.

Without thinking, his hand rose to cup your cheek, gently pulling you toward him. His heart raced as the space between you vanished, and in a smooth motion, he leaned in again, this time with a newfound confidence.

The kiss came quickly, without hesitation, and it was unrestrained, still soft, but with a sense of urgency he hadn’t expected. He kissed you with intention now, the sweetness and eagerness spilling out in the way his lips moved against yours. His hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair, pulling you just a little closer as if he wanted to lose himself in the moment. He’d never felt anything like this before.

The kiss wasn’t perfect. He stumbled a little, his lips not quite finding the rhythm, a few moments of clumsy movement as he tried to keep up. But in that imperfection, there was something pure. There was something real about it. Each time his lips brushed against yours, a little out of sync, you were patient, guiding him back.

It didn’t matter that he wasn’t a seasoned kisser. He made up for it with sweetness—lingering just a little longer than necessary, his hand never leaving your cheek, as if it was the only thing that mattered in the world. Each time he leaned back in, he was driven by a need to prove that he could do this, that he wanted to be here with you.

When he finally pulled back, his breath coming in shallow gasps, he couldn’t help but glance up at you, his chest rising and falling rapidly, as if he’d just run a marathon. His lips were swollen, and a nervous smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Sorry,” he murmured, his voice quieter now. “I probably messed that up.”

But when your gaze met his, there was no judgement, only amusement—and something softer, something deeper in your eyes.

“No,” you said gently, tracing your fingers along his jaw. “You didn’t mess it up. It was… sweet. Really sweet.”

Argenti’s heart did a flip at the praise, and the knot in his stomach began to loosen. “I just—wanted to do it right,” he admitted quietly. “I didn’t want to mess it up with you.”

You smiled, that familiar teasing gleam still in your eyes, but now with something warmer behind it. “Well, you didn’t. And if it helps, I think you’ve got a lot of potential. It’s just… practice.” You raised an eyebrow, your lips curling mischievously. “And maybe a little bit of confidence. But don’t worry, I’m happy to teach you.”

The words sent a thrill through him. “I think I could learn from you,” he said, his voice a little breathless, his smile genuine. He was starting to feel more at ease, less unsure of himself. “I don’t mind practising.”

You laughed softly, your fingers brushing across his cheek, sending another wave of warmth through him. “Good,” you said, your voice light but sincere. “Because I’m not letting you off that easily.”

He leaned in, capturing your lips in another kiss, this one deeper, more urgent. His hands roamed your back, pulling you closer, eliminating any distance between your bodies.

He could feel the warmth of your skin through your clothes, could smell the faint scent of your perfume. It was dizzying, overwhelming in the best way. He lost himself in the sensation, in the taste of your lips, the softness of your mouth.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing hard. Argenti's eyes were dark, pupils dilated with desire. "I want..." he started, then faltered, unsure how to put the ache inside him into words.

"What do you want, Argenti?" you asked, your voice a husky whisper. Your hands slid down his chest, fingers toying with the hem of his shirt.

"I want to touch you," he breathed, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart. "I want to see you" He swallowed hard, forcing himself to meet your gaze. "I want you."

He watched as your eyes searched his face, saw the moment understanding dawned. A slow, seductive smile spread across your lips, and your fingers tightened on his shirt. "Then show me what you want." you whispered, your voice low and sultry.

Argenti's breath caught, his body responding instantly to your words. Emboldened, he reached for you, his hands finding the hem of your shirt. Slowly, he lifted it, revealing inch after inch of smooth, warm skin. He drank in the sight of you, committing every curve and dip to memory.

When the shirt fell away, he leaned in, pressing his lips to the hollow of your throat. You tilted your head back, a soft moan escaping your lips as his mouth moved lower, trailing kisses along your collarbone. His hands roamed your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts through the thin fabric of your bra.

He could feel your heart racing beneath his touch, could hear the hitch in your breath as his fingers found the clasp of your bra. With a deft movement, he unhooked it, letting the garment fall away. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, naked from the waist up, your breasts full and perfect.

Unable to resist, he cupped one in his palm, marvelling at the feel of it, the softness. He thumbed your nipple, watching it pebble under his touch. Your breath hitched, and you arched into him, wordlessly encouraging him.

He took the hardened nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close as he lavished attention on your breasts, alternating between gentle sucking and teasing nips.

Your skin was hot beneath his hands, your body pliant and responsive. He could feel the heat building between your legs, could sense your arousal growing with each passing moment. It spurred him on, fuelled his own desire.

“Let me-” you whispered, wanting to help him out, noticing his obvious bulge.

Argenti's breath hitched as your hands moved to his belt, your fingers deftly working to undo the buckle. He watched, transfixed, as you slowly unzipped his jeans, your knuckles brushing against his straining erection.

He swallowed hard, his hips twitching involuntarily at the contact. "I want to make you feel good too," he managed to say, his voice rough with need.

You smiled, a wicked gleam in your eyes. "Patience," you purred, pushing his jeans and boxers down. His cock sprang free, hard and thick, the tip already glistening with pre-cum.

You wrapped your hand around him, stroking slowly from base to tip. Argenti groaned, his head falling back as pleasure coursed through him. "Fuck," he gasped, his hips bucking into your touch.

You increased your pace, your grip firm but gentle. Your other hand cupped his balls, rolling them in your palm. "It’s pretty" you murmured, your breath hot against his ear.

Argenti's heart raced as your hand worked him over, pleasure sparking through his veins with each stroke. His cock throbbed in your grip, the sensation almost too intense to bear.

"Your hand—it feels incredible," he panted, his voice strained with need.

You smiled, clearly enjoying the effect you were having on him. Your thumb swiped over the sensitive head, smearing the bead of pre-cum that had gathered there. You lowered your head, your tongue darting out to lick a long stripe up his shaft. Argenti's breath caught, his hips jerking forward involuntarily.

You took him into your mouth, your lips stretching around his girth. Your tongue swirled around him as you bobbed your head, taking him deeper with each descent. The wet heat of your mouth was exquisite, driving Argenti wild with pleasure. His fingers tangled in your hair, gripping tightly as he fought the urge to thrust into you.

You hummed around him, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body.

Argenti's grip on your hair tightened as you took him deeper, your throat constricting around his throbbing cock. The sensation was indescribable, unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Pleasure built at the base of his spine, coiling tighter and tighter with each pass of your tongue.

He could feel his orgasm approaching, the tightening of his muscles. But he didn't want this to end, not yet. He wanted to savour every moment, every sensation.

He quickly pulled you off him, his cock slipping from your lips with a wet pop. You looked up at him, your lips swollen, your eyes heavy-lidded with desire.

"I need to be inside you," he rasped, his voice rough with need. "I want to feel you around me when I come."

You chuckle at his neediness as you lean across your bed, grabbing a condom from your drawer.

Argenti's eyes widened as you retrieved a condom from your drawer, a mix of anticipation and nerves fluttering in his stomach. He watched as you tore open the packet and then rolled the condom onto his cock, your fingers brushing against his sensitive skin, making him shudder.

Once the condom was in place, you turned around, giving Argenti a tantalising view of your ass as you bent over slightly. You hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your panties and slowly slid them down your legs, revealing your pussy to him.

Argenti's mouth went dry at the sight, his cock twitching with renewed interest. He stepped forward, his hands coming to rest on your hips as he pressed himself against you. He could feel the heat radiating off your skin.

Argenti's hands trembled slightly as he positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his condom-sheathed cock nudging against your slick folds. He could feel the heat emanating from your core, beckoning him to plunge inside.

"I've never done this before," he admitted softly, his voice tinged with a mix of nervousness and excitement. "I want to do it right. I want to make you feel good."

You glanced back at him over your shoulder, a reassuring smile on your lips. "Just go slow," you murmured, reaching back to guide him forward. "And don't worry about doing it perfectly. Just focus on how it feels."

Argenti nodded, taking a deep breath as he began to push forward. The sensation was unlike anything he'd ever experienced - the tight heat of your pussy enveloping him, drawing him deeper. He groaned, his eyes fluttering shut as he savoured the feeling. Inch by inch, he sank into you, until he was buried to the hilt.

Argenti bit down on his lip, fighting the urge to come right then and there. The sensation of being inside you was overwhelming, your tight heat gripping him like a vice. He could feel every flutter of your walls around his cock, every pulse of your arousal.

"Shit-” he gasped, his hips twitching involuntarily.

He forced himself to take a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of control. He wanted this to last, wanted to make it good for you.

Slowly, carefully, he began to move, pulling out until just the tip remained inside before sliding back in. He set a steady rhythm, rocking into you with deep, measured strokes. Your moans filled the room, spurring him on. He could feel your body responding to his, your hips pushing back to meet his thrusts.

"Is this good?" he asked, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

Your reassuring moans and the way your body moved against his told Argenti all he needed to know. He continued to thrust, gradually increasing his pace as he grew more confident.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by your breathy gasps and his low groans. Sweat beaded on his brow as he lost himself in the sensation, in the feel of your body beneath his. He could feel his orgasm building, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter in his core. But he held back, determined to make sure you reached your peak first.

His hand slid around your hip, finding your clit. He rubbed in slow circles, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. Argenti's fingers worked your clit in time with his thrusts, the dual stimulation driving you closer to the edge. He could feel your body tensing, your walls fluttering around him as your pleasure mounted.

"That's it," he encouraged, his voice low and rough. "Come for me. Let me feel you."

Your moans grew louder, more urgent, and Argenti knew you were close. He redoubled his efforts, thrusting harder, faster, his fingers circling your clit with increasing pressure.

Suddenly, your back arched, your head thrown back in ecstasy as your orgasm crashed over you. Your pussy clenched around him, rippling along his cock, and Argenti groaned, the sensation pushing him over the brink.

With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself inside you, his cock pulsing as he came hard. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over him, his vision whiting out as he rode out the intensity of his release.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, both lost in the aftermath of your shared climax. Finally, Argenti slipped out of you, disposing of the condom before collapsing beside you on the bed. He turned his head to look at you, a lazy smile on his lips.

Argenti's heart swelled at the gentle press of your lips against his forehead. The simple, tender gesture spoke volumes, conveying a depth of care and affection that he'd never experienced before.

He reached up, his hand cupping your cheek as he pulled you down for a soft, lingering kiss. It was different from the heated passion of before, this kiss. It was sweet, almost chaste, a physical manifestation of the connection growing between you.

When you pulled away, he gazed into your eyes, his own shining with a mix of contentment and wonder.

“You’re a natural.” you joke with a soft laugh as you wrap your arms around him.

Argenti chuckled, the sound deep and rich as he rested his head against your chest. "I think I'm a quick learner."

༉ - 2.5k

The casino floor was alive with energy, especially  at your table. You and Aventurine had been on a streak for so long it was starting to turn heads. Chips piled up in neat stacks in front of you both, the gleam of gold and the scent of success making the night feel almost unreal.

“Another win,” Aventurine announced casually as the dealer slid another stack his way. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned back in his chair, the picture of effortless cool. “But let’s be real here. This run? It’s all because of me. Clearly, I’m your lucky charm.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms as you gave him an incredulous look. “You’re my lucky charm? I think you’ve got that backwards. If anything, you should be thanking me.”

He chuckled, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. “Oh, is that how it is? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like I’ve been carrying this team all night.”

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Carrying? Please. I’m pretty sure the only thing you’ve carried is that overinflated ego of yours.”

Aventurine laughed, a low, warm sound that sent a pleasant thrill up your spine. He tilted his head, his gaze locking with yours in a way that made your pulse quicken. “You talk a big game for someone who wouldn’t be winning without me. Admit it—you’re having fun because I’m here.”

You leaned in closer, matching his energy. “Oh, absolutely,” you said, voice dripping with mock sincerity. “It’s so much fun watching you pretend you’re the reason we’re winning when we both know who’s really the lucky one here.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, the playful challenge in them unmistakable. “Careful, or I might start thinking you actually like having me around.”

You grinned, tapping a finger on the table. “What can I say? You’re entertaining, like a fancy slot machine with nice hair.”

Aventurine barked a laugh, his shoulders shaking. “A slot machine? That’s the best you’ve got?” He leaned even closer, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve got some nerve.”

“And you love it,” you said with a wink, surprising even yourself with the boldness of your words.

Aventurine’s grin widened, his eyes glinting as he tilted his head slightly. “You know what? You might be right. Guess I’ve got a weakness for confident types.”

The air between you shifted, the playful banter taking on a sharper edge. You refused to back down, instead, you leaned in, your faces just inches apart now.

“Careful, Aventurine,” you said, your voice soft but laced with teasing. “If you keep flirting like that, I might start thinking you’re not just here for the gambling.”

His gaze flicked to your lips for just a fraction of a second before returning to your eyes, his smirk now decidedly more dangerous. “Maybe I’m not.”

The tension between you and Aventurine was electric, the noise of the casino fading into a distant hum. His smirk deepened, eyes gleaming with mischief and something more daring. Slowly, deliberately, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek, metallic keycard.

He twirled it between his fingers like it was a chip, the move impossibly smooth. “You’re good at reading between the lines,” he said, his voice low and inviting. “Think you can figure out what this means?”

Your gaze flicked to the keycard, then back to his face, your heart pounding as your brain scrambled for a witty retort. “Oh, I don’t know,” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “Looks like you’re trying to skip ahead in the game. Aren’t you supposed to take me out to dinner first?”

Aventurine chuckled, the sound rumbling and warm. He slid the card across the table, stopping it just in front of your hand.

You picked up the card slowly, holding it between your fingers as if weighing your options. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” he said smoothly, leaning back with a confidence that was infuriatingly attractive. “Unless you count spending more time with me. But if that’s too much of a gamble, I’d understand.”

He collected his chips as he stood up, leaving the table, “Don’t keep me waiting too long. Wouldn’t want that luck to run out, now would we?”

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as you stood, slipping the card into your pocket. “Not a chance.”

—

You locate the room number on the keycard and slide it into the lock. The door swings open to reveal a spacious suite, all sleek lines and modern decor, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of the city lights below.

Aventurine is leaning against the wall by the window, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. He turns as you enter, his eyes glinting in the dim light.

"I wasn't sure if you'd actually show," he says, his voice a low purr. "But I'm glad you did."

You close the door behind you, turning to face him fully. "And miss an opportunity like this? Not a chance."

He pushes off the wall, closing the distance between you with a few easy strides. "Opportunity for what, exactly?" he asks, his gaze roaming over your features with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine.

You meet his eyes boldly, refusing to be intimidated. "For whatever you have planned," you say, your voice steady despite the rapid beating of your heart.

Aventurine's lips curve into a smirk, his hand reaching out to trace the line of your jaw with a feather-light touch. "Careful what you wish for," he murmurs, his breath ghosting over your skin. "You might just get it."

Your pulse races at his touch, desire and anticipation coiling tightly in your belly. "Promises, promises," you breathe, tilting your head into his palm.

His answering chuckle is dark and full of promise. "Oh, I always keep my promises," he says, his thumb brushing over your lower lip.

And then his lips are on yours, hot and demanding, and you're lost in the taste and feel of him, the world falling away until there's nothing but the two of you, caught up in a dance.

You melt into the kiss, your hands coming up to tangle in Aventurine's hair, pulling him closer as you press your body against his. He responds eagerly, his arms wrapping around your waist as he deepens the kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to tangle with yours.

He tastes of whiskey and sin, and you can't get enough. Your fingers slip under the hem of his shirt, feeling the hard planes of his chest beneath your palms. He groans into your mouth, his hips pressing forward to grind against you, letting you feel the evidence of his arousal.

"Bedroom," he rasps against your lips, his voice rough with desire.

You nod, breathless and wanting, allowing him to lead you towards the bedroom. He kicks the door shut behind you, then spins you around, pinning you against it with his body. His hands are everywhere, slipping under your clothes to stroke heated skin, his mouth trailing fire along your neck.

"You're so fucking sexy," he growls, nipping at your earlobe. "I've wanted this since the moment I saw you."

Your breath hitches as Aventurine's hands roam your body, his touch setting your skin ablaze with desire. You arch into him, craving more, needing to feel every inch of him against you.

He groans, low and primal, his hips grinding harder against yours. His hands slip under your shirt, pushing it up and off, leaving you bare from the waist up. He takes a moment to admire you, his eyes dark with lust.

"Fuck, you're perfect," he murmurs, his fingers tracing the curves of your breasts. He leans down, his mouth hot against your skin as he kisses a trail down your sternum, his tongue flicking out to tease your nipple.

You gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair, holding him close. "Please," you whimper, not even sure what you're begging for, only knowing that you need more, need him.

He chuckles, the vibration sending sparks of pleasure through you. "Patience, love," he purrs, his hands sliding down to pop the button of your jeans. "We've got all night."

And then he's on his knees in front of you. He looks up at you through his lashes, his eyes hooded and full of promise.

"Let me taste you," he murmurs, his fingers hooking in the waistband of your jeans.

You nod mutely, your heart pounding in your chest as Aventurine slowly slides your jeans down your legs, his hands caressing your skin as he goes. He tosses them aside carelessly, leaving you in nothing but your panties, which are already damp with arousal.

He leans forward, his breath hot against your panties. "You're so wet for me already," he murmurs, his fingers tracing the damp spot. "I've barely touched you, and you're dripping."

You squirm under his touch, desperate for more. "Please," you whimper, your hands fisting in his hair. "I need..."

"Shh," he soothes, placing a kiss over your clothed pussy, licking a stripe along your covered slit. "I know what you need. Just relax and let me take care of you."

And then he's pulling your panties aside, his fingers stroking through your slick folds. You gasp, your hips bucking into his touch. He chuckles, the sound vibrating against your skin.

"So responsive," he praises, circling your clit with the pad of his thumb. "I can't wait to taste you."

And then his mouth is on you, his tongue delving between your folds, lapping at your essence. You cry out, your head falling back against the door as waves of pleasure crash over you.

He works you skilfully, his tongue alternating between broad strokes and targeted flicks against your clit. His fingers join in, pumping in and out of you, curling to hit that spot inside that makes you see stars.

Your legs tremble as Aventurine's skilled mouth works you over, his tongue delving deep, lapping at your essence. The pleasure builds, coiling tighter and tighter in your core, threatening to snap at any moment.

"Aventurine," you gasp, your fingers tightening in his hair, pressing his face harder against your aching pussy. "I'm... I'm going to-"

He moans in response, the vibrations sending you hurtling over the edge. Your orgasm crashes over you, your vision whiting out as ecstasy consumes you. You grind against his face, riding out the waves of pleasure, his name a broken cry on your lips.

He doesn't stop, prolonging your climax, his fingers and tongue working in tandem to wring every last drop of pleasure from your body. Finally, you collapse back against the door, boneless and sated, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath.

Aventurine rises, his face glistening with your arousal. He licks his lips, his eyes dark with hunger. "So sweet," he purrs, his voice rough. "I could do that forever.”

You can only moan in response, your body still thrumming with aftershocks. He leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

He takes your hand, leading you to the bed, pushing you down onto the plush mattress. He crawls over you, his body covering yours, his weight pressing you into the sheets.

"I need to be inside you," he growls, his hips grinding against yours, letting you feel the hard length of him through his pants. "I need to feel you wrapped around me, squeezing me.”

You reach down, fumbling with the button of his pants, desperate to free his cock. He helps you, shoving his pants and boxers down just enough to spring free, his erection bobbing against your stomach.

"Please," you whimper, wrapping your hand around him, stroking the velvety soft skin. "I need you, too. I need to feel you stretch me, fill me."

He groans, his hips thrusting into your hand. "Fuck, you're killing me," he pants, reaching down to position himself at your entrance.

With a single, powerful thrust, Aventurine pushes his cock all the way inside you, filling you completely. You cry out, your back arching off the bed as your body struggles to adjust to his size. He stills, giving you a moment to acclimate, his forehead resting against yours.

"Breathe," he murmurs, his hips flexing slightly, sending sparks of pleasure through you. "Just breathe, love. I've got you."

You take a shuddering breath, your inner walls fluttering around him. Slowly, you begin to move, rocking your hips against his, urging him deeper. He groans, his hands gripping your hips as he starts to thrust, setting a slow, deep rhythm.

"You feel incredible," he pants, his lips brushing against your ear. "I could stay buried inside you forever and die happy."

You clench around him, relishing the feel of him stretching you, filling you. "More," you demand, your nails digging into his back.

He laughs breathlessly, complying with your request, his hips snapping against yours with increased force. The bed creaks beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful thrust.

Aventurine's thrusts grow more erratic, his breath coming in short, sharp pants as he nears his peak. His hands grip your hips bruisingly, holding you in place as he pounds into you, the force of his thrusts pushing you up the bed.

"Come with me," he demands, his voice a guttural growl. "I want to feel you come undone around my cock."

Your body tenses, your inner walls fluttering around him as your orgasm approaches. With a final, deep thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing as he finds his release.

The feel of him coming inside you is enough to push you over the edge. You cry out, your body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. He follows you, his hips jerking as he spills his cum deep within you.

You collapse back against the bed, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Aventurine follows suit, laying down beside you. He leans over peppering your face with soft kisses, his hands stroking your hair, your back, your sides. "You’re beautiful" he murmurs, his voice soft with satisfaction.

You smile, turning your head to capture his lips in a tender kiss. "You're not so bad yourself," you tease, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his sweat-slicked skin.

He chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest and into yours. "I aim to please," he says, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "And I'm not done with you yet, love. Not by a long shot."

You shiver at the promise in his words, your body already stirring with renewed desire. "Is that so?" you ask, arching an eyebrow. "And what exactly did you have in mind?" 

His grin is wicked, his eyes gleaming in the low light. "Oh, I think you'll find out soon enough.”

༉ - 2.8k

Topaz’s flat was warm and inviting, the perfect spot to unwind for a casual evening. Soft amber light spilled across the room, casting a cosy glow  that made the space feel like home. Somewhere in the background, faint music played  that blended perfectly with the gentle clinking of glasses and low chatter.

“We’ll be right back,” Aventurine called out, with Topaz trailing close behind as they disappeared toward the kitchen.

You had settled comfortably into the corner of the sofa, a glass of wine in hand and Veritas lounging beside you. Tonight, he seemed different—relaxed in a way you rarely saw. His shirt was unbuttoned, his tie discarded, and his usually immaculate hair slightly mussed, as though he’d finally let the weight of the day slip away.

The air between you buzzed with the kind of easy familiarity that only came with years of friendship, though tonight there was something else–.

“Another top-up?” Veritas asked, his voice smoother and slower than usual as he reached for the wine bottle on the low table. Without waiting for an answer, he topped off your glass and then poured more into his own.

“You’re a terrible influence,” you teased, though you made no move to stop him. “If I wake up with a headache tomorrow, I’m blaming you.”

He smirked, swirling his wine with an air of mock innocence. “I’d argue it’s your fault for being such agreeable company.”

The words lingered, their meaning sharper than his usual dry humour. You glanced down at your glass, suddenly unsure what to say. Was it the wine, or was there something more in his tone tonight?

“Quiet now, are we?” he teased, leaning in just slightly. “You’re usually quicker with a retort.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile. “Just giving you a moment to bask in your supposed wit.”

His chuckle was low and warm, the kind of sound that settled somewhere deep in your chest. His knee grazed yours, a light touch that didn’t feel accidental. When you shifted slightly, his arm brushed against yours and lingered, just enough to make you wonder if he’d noticed it too.

“I’ve always admired that about you,” he said, his voice quieter now.

“Admired what?” you asked, your pulse quickening.

“You have this way of making even the most tedious conversations feel alive.” His eyes softened, and for a moment, he wasn’t the sharp, collected man you knew so well. “Though I don’t think this moment qualifies as tedious, does it?”

You shook your head, your voice barely above a whisper. “No. It doesn’t.”

Neither of you moved for a moment. His hand found yours, his fingers warm and steady, and though the gesture caught you off guard, you didn’t pull away. His thumb traced slow circles over your skin, sending a rush of heat up your arm.

“Veritas—” you began, but your voice faltered.

“Too much?” he asked gently, his brows drawing together, as if he was ready to let go at the slightest hint of hesitation.

“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “Not too much.”

His shoulders relaxed, and the faintest trace of a smile appeared on his lips. He shifted closer, his arm sliding along the back of the sofa until his fingers brushed your shoulder. The scent of his cologne—something crisp with a faint warmth beneath it—lingered in the space between you, making your head swim.

The world beyond the sofa seemed to fade. His presence filled the room, his thumb still tracing light, deliberate circles on your hand. When his fingers grazed your neck, their touch feather-light, you couldn’t help the shiver that ran through you.

“You’ve gone quiet again,” he murmured, his tone both teasing and earnest. “Should I be worried?”

You turned to face him, and suddenly his face was so close to yours. His gaze locked onto yours, and your breath hitched. It felt impossible to look away.

“Not worried,” you managed softly. “Just… thinking.”

“Dangerous,” he quipped, though his voice held less humour now. His hand shifted, brushing along the curve of your jaw. His touch was barely there, yet it lit up every nerve. “Care to share?”

You hesitated, not because you didn’t know what to say, but because the words carried weight. “I was thinking,” you said slowly, your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart, “that you don’t seem as restrained as usual tonight.”

A flicker of something—surprise, maybe—passed across his face before he smirked. But it wasn’t his usual teasing smirk; it was softer, quieter, like he didn’t want to scare the moment away. “Restraint,” he murmured, “has its time and place. And this… doesn’t feel like one of them.”

The charged silence between you was almost unbearable. Slowly, he leaned in, giving you plenty of time to stop him, but you didn’t.

When his lips finally met yours, the kiss was gentle and tentative, like he was testing the waters. It was fleeting, yet it left your heart racing. His hand slipped to your jaw, steady and warm as he kissed you again, this time with more certainty.

You melted into him, your hands coming to rest against his chest. His heartbeat was fast beneath your palms, and when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“We should…” His voice was rough now, laced with restraint. “Move somewhere more private.”

Your heart jumped at the suggestion, and you nodded, your voice barely audible. “Yeah.”

He stood smoothly, his hand slipping into yours as he cast a quick glance toward the kitchen. When he was sure your friends were still out of sight, he guided you down the hallway. His touch was firm, grounding, but there was a tenderness in the way his thumb brushed over your knuckles.

At the end of the hall, he paused outside a closed door. His free hand found the handle, turning it slowly. The hinge creaked softly as he pushed the door open, revealing the spare bedroom. He guided you inside, closing the door behind you with a soft click. The room was small but cosy, with a large window that let in a silver glow.

Veritas turned to face you, his expression a blend of uncertainty and desire. "Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice low and husky. "We can stop if you want to."

His words were sincere, giving you an out if you needed it. But the way his eyes roamed over your face, the way his fingers tightened ever so slightly around yours, betrayed his own longing.

You took a step closer, closing the distance between you. "I'm sure," you whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek. His skin was warm beneath your palm, and you marvelled at the softness of his stubble against your fingers.

He leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment. When he opened them again, they were dark with want.

He captured your mouth in a searing kiss. It was nothing like the tentative brush of lips from earlier. This time, there was no holding back. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You could feel the heat of his body through your clothes, the firmness of his muscles.

You responded eagerly, your hands tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss. He tasted of wine and something uniquely him - a flavour you knew you'd crave forever. His tongue teased your lower lip before delving into your mouth, exploring and claiming with a passion that left you breathless.

Slowly, he walked you backwards until your legs hit the edge of the bed. He broke the kiss, his breathing ragged as he looked down at you. "Tell me you want this," he breathed, his hands settling on your hips. "Tell me you need me as much as I need you."

The words were a plea, a confession. In this moment, the usually composed and controlled Veritas Ratio was laid bare before you, vulnerable and wanting. Your heart swelled with affection and desire.

"I want this," you whispered, your hands sliding up his chest to link behind his neck. "I need you. Please, Veritas..."

His name on your lips seemed to break the last of his restraint. With a groan, he kissed you again, his hands slipping under your shirt to caress the bare skin of your back.

It wasn’t long before Veritas' fingers deftly worked at the zipper on his trousers, his movements quick yet precise, revealing the bulge straining against his underwear. With a deft tug, he freed his cock, the hard length springing forth, already flushed and throbbing with need.

He stepped back slightly, giving you a moment to take in the sight of him. Moonlight spilled across his body, highlighting the contours of his muscles, the defined lines of his abs. His cock was long, with a prominent vein on the underside.

You wasted no time, sinking to your knees before him. The plush carpet cushioned your knees, but you barely noticed. His cock jutted out, hard and proud, the tip glistening with pre-cum in the moonlight.

Your hands trembled slightly as you reached for him, fingers wrapping around the base of his shaft. He was hot and heavy in your grasp, the skin velvety soft over the rigid flesh beneath. You stroked him slowly, savouring the weight of him, the way he twitched and throbbed against your palm.

Veritas groaned, his head falling back as he savoured your touch. "God," he breathed, his voice thick with desire. "Feels so good-”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, stoking the fire building in your core. You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his cock. The taste of him exploded across your tongue, salty and musky, uniquely him.

Emboldened, you took him into your mouth, your lips stretching around his girth. He was big, filling your mouth completely, but you revelled in it. You hollowed your cheeks, sucking him deeper, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head.

"Fuck," Veritas gasped, his fingers tangling in your hair. "Just like that, baby. Take me deeper."

You obeyed, relaxing your throat as you pushed forward, taking him inch by inch until he hit the back of your throat. The sensation was intense, overwhelming, but you didn't pull away. Instead, you held him there, your nose pressed against his pelvis, breathing in his scent.

Veritas’ grip on your hair tightened, his hips rocking forward slightly. "God, sweetheart," he moaned, his voice strained. "You're incredible."

The praise washed over you, spurring you on. You bobbed your head, setting a steady rhythm as you worked him with your mouth. Your hands slid down to cup his balls, rolling them gently in your palm.

Veritas' hand cupped the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guided you further down his shaft. "That's it, baby," he groaned, his voice rough with pleasure. "Take all of me."

You complied eagerly, relaxing your throat as you pushed forward until your nose nestled against his pelvis. The scent of him filled your senses, musky and intoxicating. You held him there, savouring the weight of him on your tongue, the way he throbbed against your palate.

"God, beautiful-" Veritas gasped, his hips rocking forward slightly. "You're so good at this. So fucking perfect."

His words sent a thrill through you, stoking the heat building in your core. You pulled back slowly, letting him slide from your mouth with a lewd pop. Strings of saliva connected your lips to his cock, glistening in the moonlight.

"Touch yourself," he commanded, his voice low and authoritative. "I want to see you get off while you suck my cock."

Your cheeks flushed at his words, but you didn't hesitate. Your hand slid beneath your skirt. You were already soaked, your panties clinging to your skin.

You circled your clit with your fingertip, gasping at the jolt of pleasure that shot through you. Ratio watched with hooded eyes, his cock twitching in your grip.

"That's it, baby," he urged, his hand guiding your head as you took him back into your mouth. "Make yourself feel good. I want to hear you moan around my cock."

You obeyed, increasing the pressure of your fingers as you sucked him deeper. Your other hand came up to fondle his balls, rolling them gently in your palm. The combined sensations were overwhelming, pushing you closer to the edge with each passing second.

Veritas’ breath came in short, sharp gasps as you worked him with your mouth and hands. His cock throbbed against your tongue, the veins along the shaft pulsing with need. You could tell he was getting close, his hips rocking faster, his grip on your hair tightening.

Suddenly, he pulled you off him, his cock slipping from your lips with a wet pop. "As much as I love your mouth," he panted, his eyes dark with lust, "I need to be inside you."

You nodded eagerly, your heart racing at the thought. He helped you to your feet, his hands roaming over your curves appreciatively. With a swift motion, he pushed your skirt up around your waist and tugged your panties down your thighs.

Veritas gently pushed you back onto the bed, his eyes roaming over your body with undisguised hunger. "Always been so pretty" he murmured, his hands skimming up your thighs to your hips.

He settled between your legs, the heat of his body seeping into your skin. You could feel his cock pressing against your entrance, teasing you with the promise of what was to come. Slowly, he pushed forward, stretching you open around him.

You gasped at the sensation, your back arching off the bed. He was so big, filling you completely. He gave you a moment to adjust before starting to move, his hips rocking in a steady rhythm.

"God, you feel amazing," he groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder.

His words sent shivers down your spine, stoking the fire building in your core. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper. He obliged, his thrusts growing harder, faster.

The bed creaked beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful stroke. Veritas' hands gripped your hips, his fingers leaving bruises on your skin. But you didn't mind the pain, not when pleasure was coursing through your veins like liquid fire.

Despite the intense sensations coursing through your body, you bit your lip, muffling your moans and gasps. The thought of Aventurine and Topaz hearing you in the other room was enough to keep you silent, even as Veritas’ thrusts grew harder, deeper.

He seemed to sense your restraint, his eyes locking with yours in the darkness. "Don't hold back," he whispered, his voice husky with desire. "I want to hear you.”

You shook your head, your fingers digging into his shoulders. You couldn't risk it, couldn't bear the thought of your friends walking in and catching you in such a compromising position.

Veritas frowned slightly, but he didn't push the issue. Instead, he leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue delved into your mouth, swallowing your silent cries of pleasure.

His hips never stopped moving, each thrust sending shockwaves of ecstasy through your body. You could feel your climax building, getting closer to the edge. He seemed to sense it too, his pace quickening, his breath coming in harsh pants against your ear.

"Come for me, sweetheart," he growled, his teeth grazing your earlobe. "Let go. I've got you."

His words were your undoing. With a muffled cry, you came undone, your body convulsing beneath him as you gushed around his cock. Veritas quickly pulled out, his cum shooting out and splattering on your folds.

You lay there in the aftermath, your chest heaving, your limbs trembling. He  collapsed on top of you, his weight a welcome comfort.

Slowly he rolled off you, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He pulled you close, your back pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped around your waist. You could feel his heart racing, matching the pounding of your own.

He kissed your shoulder softly. "We should probably get cleaned up and head back out there," he said, his voice tinged with reluctance. "Before Aventurine and Topaz come looking for us."

You nodded, leaning in to kiss him one last time before reluctantly pulling away from his warmth.

༉ - 2.5k

The training grounds hummed with the steady rhythm of swords meeting swords, the sharp ring of steel echoing in the air. You were lost in the rhythm, your every move precise as you worked through the drills Jing Yuan had set for you.

The weight of the training session was starting to catch up with you—your muscles burning, sweat trickling down your back—but you refused to stop. His gaze was always on you, but today, there was something about it that made your heart race a little.

Jing Yuan was a study in effortless grace, each movement fluid and controlled as he parried your strikes. His hair shimmered in the sunlight. His composure was unmatched—he never seemed to break a sweat, even when you were struggling to keep up. And yet, his every motion felt like a reminder that you still had so much to learn.

“You’re improving,” he said suddenly, his voice a smooth, unwavering contrast to the intensity of the training. He dodged your strike so easily it was as if he already knew it was coming. “But you’re still too tense. Stop thinking so much- Let your instincts take over.”

You nodded, trying to focus on his words. You couldn’t quite explain it, but his praise always felt so... personal. It was like he wasn’t just teaching you how to fight; he was seeing something deeper. And you hated how giddy that made you feel.

The practice continued, but with each passing moment, it became harder to focus. Every glance he gave you seemed to leave you a little more flustered, his every compliment a spark that made your heart flutter. You tried to shake it off, to stay in the moment, but your movements became a little less fluid.

“That’s better,” he said again, his eyes narrowing as he watched you catch your breath. “You have the power. You just need to learn to channel it.”

“Thanks,” you muttered, trying to ignore the warmth spreading across your skin. It wasn’t that you weren’t good at sword fighting, but when Jing Yuan spoke to you like that, it felt different. His words were a quiet evaluation, but they made your heart feel exposed, as though he was seeing right through you.

Minutes blended together in a haze of quick movements and hurting muscles. The sweat on your forehead trickled, and you could feel the strain in your arms and legs, but you pushed yourself harder, determined not to disappoint him. Finally, when the session was over, you dropped your sword, your breathing heavy.

"That's enough for today," Jing Yuan said, his voice quiet yet imperative as he stepped toward you. His eyes roamed over you, taking in the fatigue in your eyes, the way you were trying to steady your breathing. "You have worked hard.

You managed a small smile, though the weight of the session left you feeling drained. "I'm fine," you said, though the slight tremor in your voice betrayed you. You weren't sure if you were convincing anyone, least of all him.

He studied you a moment longer, his sharp eyes picking up the subtle signs: the way you were holding your breath, the way your hands trembled ever so slightly. With a soft sigh, he leaned in closer, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. The touch was light, but it sent a ripple of warmth through you, and you couldn't quite keep the flutter from your chest.

"Let me check you over-" he said, his voice dropping an octave soft yet purposeful. "make sure you're not hurt."

The words should’ve been routine, should’ve been just another part of the training, but the closeness between you, the way his gaze lingered a little longer than usual, made everything feel different. His touch was so careful as he ran his hands over your arms, your shoulders, your ribs—light and methodical, almost as if he were memorising every detail of you. Each brush of his fingers sent sparks through your skin, and you had to force yourself to breathe normally.

“Does this hurt?” His fingers pressed against a sore spot near your ribs where you'd taken a hit earlier.

You gasped softly, the breath catching in your throat, before shaking your head. "It's a little sore.

His eyes softened, a glint of concern in them as he regarded you, yet there was something else, too-something more than mere mentorship. The air between you grew thick with unspoken tension, not exactly teacher and student, but something else entirely. His presence overwhelmed you; the way he watched you-also so intense-made it even harder to think clearly.

Before you could catch yourself, your fingers grazed his chest-just the lightest touch, but it felt like an electric jolt went through you. The space between you contracted, and the pull you'd been fighting became too much. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you were leaning in, your lips brushing against his in a fleeting, impulsive kiss.

The world seemed to stop for that second, and then Jing Yuan froze. His body stiffened, and for a second you thought you'd made a terrible mistake. But when he pulled back, his expression wasn't anger or confusion-it was soft, searching. His gaze lingered on your face, as if he were trying to understand the emotions swirling there.

You stepped backward in haste, heat flooding your face as you muttered, "I- I didn't mean-"

But before you could get the words out, his hand was cupping your cheek, his touch warm and comforting. His thumb stroked your skin with soft gentleness-a motion that made your heart thud. "Don't apologise," he said, his voice soft, low-assuring. "You don't have to be sorry."

The air between you seemed to thicken with the weight of the moment. Jing Yuan leaned in just slightly, giving you space to pull away if you wanted to, but you didn’t. You stood there, your heart racing in your chest, the tension building with each breath you took.

“I think…” he began, his voice a little quieter, “you’re not the only one who’s been holding back.”

Your breath caught in your throat. That was all he needed to say, and in that moment, the world around you seemed to fall away. The spark between you wasn’t one-sided. And maybe this was the beginning of something neither of you had expected.

Slowly, hesitantly, you reached up to cover his hand with your own, pressing it more firmly against your cheek. "Then what’s stopping us?" you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Jing Yuan's eyes darkened at your words, a flash of hunger in their depths. He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice rough with desire.

You nodded, your eyes locked on his, unable to look away. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

With those words, Jing Yuan closed the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours in a passionate, desperate kiss. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him as he deepened the kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to taste you.

You melted into him, your arms winding around his neck as you kissed him back with equal fervour. The world spun around you, your senses overwhelmed by the feel of his lips on yours, the scent of his skin, the sound of his ragged breathing.

You felt yourself being pulled into Jing Yuan's embrace, your bodies pressing together as the kiss deepened. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that made your head spin, his tongue exploring your mouth with a passion that left you breathless. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close as you lost yourself in the sensation of his touch, his taste, his very essence.

Time seemed to stand still, the rest of the world fading away until there was nothing but the two of you, wrapped up in each other's arms. Jing Yuan's hands roamed over your back, your sides, his touch leaving trails of fire in its wake. You arched into him, craving more of his touch.

Jing Yuan broke the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he pulled back to look at you. His eyes were dark with desire, but there was a flicker of concern there too. "We should move somewhere more private," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "There are too many prying eyes here."

You nodded, your heart still racing as you glanced around the training grounds. He was right. Anyone could stumble upon you like this, could see the way you were clinging to each other, the way your lips were swollen from his kisses. The thought sent a thrill through you, even as it filled you with a sense of urgency.

Jing Yuan took your hand, his fingers intertwined with yours as he led you away from the training grounds. You followed him willingly, your steps quick and eager, your body still thrumming with the aftershocks of his touch. He led you through the winding paths of the gardens, past flowering bushes and babbling fountains, until you reached a secluded grove hidden behind a curtain of willow branches.

As soon as you were out of sight, Jing Yuan pulled you into his arms once more, his lips crashing against yours in a desperate, hungry kiss. You moaned into his mouth, your hands fisting in his hair as you kissed him back. His hands roamed over your body, slipping beneath your clothes to caress the heated skin beneath.

Your hands fumbled with the fastenings of Jing Yuan's robes, your fingers shaking with a mix of anticipation and nerves. He helped you, his own hands working to remove your clothing with a practised ease that belied his gentle touch. Soon, the fabric fell away, leaving you both bare in the dappled sunlight filtering through the willow branches.

Jing Yuan's eyes roamed over your body, his gaze appreciative as he drank in the sight of you. "You're beautiful," he breathed, his voice rough with desire. His hands skimmed over your curves, his touch leaving goosebumps in its wake.

Your fingers trailed over the hard planes of his chest, the defined muscles of his abdomen, marvelling at the feel of his skin beneath your palms.

Jing Yuan groaned at your touch, his hips pressing forward to grind against yours. You could feel his cock, hot and insistent against your stomach, and it sent a fresh wave of desire coursing through you. Your own body responded in kind, aching and throbbing with a need that was almost painful in its intensity.

His lips found your neck, his teeth nibbling, and tongue leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your pulse point. You tilted your head back, giving him better access, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you lost yourself in the sensation. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you harder against him, the friction delicious and maddening all at once.

"Jing Yuan," you gasped, your voice breathy and needy. "Please..."

His response was to lift you up, wrapping your legs around him as he carried you. Jing Yuan pressed you against the cool stone wall of the garden, his body pinning you in place as he captured your lips in a searing kiss. Your legs tightened around his waist, drawing him closer, craving more of his touch.

He held you up with one arm as the other delved lower, his fingers finding your pussy. You were already wet, your body ready for him, and he groaned at the feeling. "So ready for me," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "So perfect."

His fingers circled your clit, teasing and stroking, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. You rocked your hips against his hand, seeking more of that delicious friction. Jing Yuan obliged, his fingers sliding lower to dip inside you, stretching you, preparing you for what was to come.

You could feel him, hard and heavy, pressing against your entrance. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, your body trembling with need. "Please," you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders. "I need you."

Jing Yuan's eyes met yours, "I've got you," he promised, his voice low and husky. And with that, he pushed forward

Jing Yuan’s cock pushed inside you slowly, carefully, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched your face for any sign of discomfort. You could feel every inch of him as he stretched you, filled you, your body adjusting to his size. It was a delicious burn, a sweet ache that only made you want more.

"Dove," he breathed, the pet name a reverent whisper on his lips. His hips pressed forward, burying himself deeper inside you, and you couldn't hold back the moan that escaped. "So tight," he groaned, his hands gripping your hips for support. "So perfect."

You clung to him, meeting his thrusts. The pleasure was immense, overwhelming, and you could feel yourself already teetering on the edge of ecstasy. Jing Yuan's thrusts grew harder, faster, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps as he lost himself in the feel of you.

His thrusts grew more urgent, more demanding, as he lost himself in the heat of the moment. His hips slammed against yours, driving into you with a force that had you seeing stars. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, mingling with your moans and his grunts of pleasure.

Jing Yuan's lips found yours again, swallowing your moans as he drove into you harder, deeper. His hand slid between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing in tight, circular motions. The added stimulation was too much, and you shattered, your orgasm crashing over you in waves of pure, blinding ecstasy.

"Atta girl," Jing Yuan growled, his voice strained with his own impending release.

Your walls clenched around him, milking his length as you rode out the aftershocks of your climax. Jing Yuan followed soon after, his hips stuttering as he found his own release. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he emptied himself inside you, ropes of cum spilling inside you.

As the final waves of your shared ecstasy subsided, Jing Yuan held you close, his body still intimately connected with yours. He peppered your face with soft, tender kisses, his hands gently stroking your hair and caressing your back. The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, a stark contrast to the heated passion that had just consumed you both.

"Think that was a good training session" he joked, his voice low and content.

You couldn't help but laugh, a breathless, giddy sound that bubbled up from your chest. "I think that was the best training session I've ever had," you replied, your words laced with a mix of humour and sincerity.

reblogsノcomments are greatly appreciated <3

© lovesculprit → do not copy or translate any of my works

[befallenstars-archive]

യ TRYING TO KEEP QUIET, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

fem reader x sunday, dan heng, dr ratio, aventurine & jing yuan ( separate ) ; exhibitionism. petnames used; my dear, my angel. fingering. teasing. dry humping. f! oral receiving. sneaking around & trying to keep quiet. thigh riding.

word count. 885 to 1.1k max. ₊ 𓂃 return to masterlist.

౿ SUNDAY

You can still faintly hear the music from the banquet as you rest in the corridor just short from the hall. It’s quite a risky display really— your back is pressing tight against the wall and your elegant dress is hiked up around your hips, held there by hands that seem to tremble with your movements.

Sunday had been quite convincing when he’d lured you away from the festivities, a routine that you found to be quite comforting. You’re sure it was hard for him to entertain guests all night, you yourself always found the room to become quite stuffy quite quickly. So you were never one to deny him when it came to his want to have a little alone time with you instead — serving as an opportunity to recharge his batteries.

Well, that’s what you’d expected anyway.

But one could probably imagine your surprise when Sunday had pressed you up against the wall you reside on now, breathed into your mouth as he kissed you and trembled when you’d wrapped yourself around him in response.

It was unlike him to take initiative like this, especially not in such scenarios — but how were you supposed to deny him when he’d given you such a lidded, yearning look. Like he’d been holding himself back all night and couldn’t wait to finally have you in such a position, finally all alone.

He’d dropped to his knees a moment later to shove himself beneath your dress, and now you’re arching into his mouth like you’re not only mere moments away from a banquet full of esteemed quests. The thought of that in itself makes you tremble into the press of his tongue before you moan.

And you feel Sunday’s hands squeeze into your hips at the sound before he hums, “Keep your voice down, my angel. Lest I assume you want us to be found in such a… disorderly state.” The tone of it seems to tremble through you as his lips close around your clit, and were it not for his touch on your body — you think you would’ve collapsed to the ground right now.

It would be quite bothersome were someone to find you like this — you were both a sight, the Oak Family head especially as he rests on his knees now. His usual perfect appearance is mused, shirt untucked and gloves discarded on the floor at your feet. His hair is a mess, he’s sweating hard and the lower half of his face is wet — soaked.

But it feels far too good, and you’re so terribly hot, aching when you feel him roll his tongue along the press of your slick folds. And you reach for his hair to tangle it between your fingers to squeeze, “But Sunday… it feels so good! I’m gonna cum—“

You feel Sunday’s wings tremble along the press of your inner thighs as you reply, voice breaking beneath the next roll of his tongue and he closes his lips around your clit again, to suckle for a moment longer. Until you’re jolting and writhing above him, and he pulls away with a pop before he’s looking up at you. “Well, do you believe that excuses such a sinful display, my angel?”

His breath cools the spit along your pussy and you can barely answer when you shudder, “M-maybe, I don’t know.” Feeling something akin to tears collect prettily along your lashes as you look down at him with a wet blink.

But that reaction only makes Sunday chuckle quietly, almost soothingly before he’s letting one of his hands graze between your thighs— pressing through your folds to spread you lewdly with two fingers. “There’s no need to get in such a state of disarray, my dear. I assure you, we won’t go interrupted should you stay vigilant.”

He leans in again, pressing a soft kiss against your clit until it elicits a whine from you and it seems to be quite hard for him to keep his voice steady. “Even under different circumstances, I would truly detest the idea that anyone else may have the opportunity see you in such a captivating position.”

But because you know the reassurance that Sunday needs to continue, you don’t hesitate to part your lips to offer it. “Nobody else would. It’s only you.” And in turn, he doesn’t hesitate to lean in to bury himself in the slick surface of your pussy with his next breath.

It makes your back arch against the wall behind you, fingertips tightening in his hair to pull and you feel the way it makes his breathing stutter against your folds as he all but whines against you. He bathes you in kitten licks of his tongue, pressing the muscle between your folds to circle your clit — until your hips are humping up against his face and he mouths at you relentlessly, sucking and slurping as your thighs begin to shake on each side of his face.

“Hm, very well.” Sunday hums against you, barely audible with how deep he’s buried himself in your cunt. But you still feel every syllable. “Then you may do as you wish.”

౿ DAN HENG

You hadn’t expected it to end up like this after March 7th had dragged you both into a game of hide and seek on the Express. And you’d preached your case of safety in numbers when you’d found yourself hot on Dan Heng’s heels — very convincingly so at that when you’d reassured him you had a great hiding spot.

And you really did, for one person that is. You’d never really tested out the space with two and now that the opportunity has arose well… it’s a bit of a tight squeeze.

The storage closet that you and Dan Heng have both ended up in is barely able to fit you both, but you seem to have managed to make it work with your positions now. Though quite precarious, and a little too close for comfort as he almost stands flush against you— his chest to your back as you try hard not to make too much of a racket.

Your grumble to yourself as you struggle to get comfortable, “Why did you let me do this?” Shuddering, when you feel your friend behind you exhale out a sigh himself.

“Pardon my frankness, but this was all your doing was it not?”

You guess Dan Heng does have a point there, but then you’re fidgeting on your feet again and pushing up a little closer. You don’t notice the hitch in his breathing before you’re responding back, “Yeah, but you didn’t object to hide and seek or my idea.”

“Well I didn’t consider such a situation when we’d agreed to the game.”

“And i didn’t consider that you’d take up so much space.” You’re bickering like an old married couple. If they were to end up stuffed inside of a storage closet that is. But your argument seems to hit a stand still when you hear March 7th’s footsteps make their way down the hallway just outside of the closet.

You can both tell it’s her by the way she’s humming to herself — and suddenly the tension between you both feels a little thicker as you try to remain still.

“Don’t move.” Dan Heng whispers lowly to you when you fidget on your feet again. You almost sway in the already suffocating space, and he takes it upon himself to wrap an arm around your waist to keep you steady — closing the already non-existent distance between you both as you hold your breath.

The footsteps pass quickly, leaving you both to listen and wait. Wondering if March is still around or if she’s just trying to catch you both with your guard down.

“Is she gone?” You opt to finally speak as you move again, but Dan Heng’s arm around your waist only seems to squeeze tighter before he responds.

“I suggest you keep your voice down before you alert her to our location.” His words urge you to fidget almost impatiently, suddenly feeling a little claustrophobic. But you don’t realise just how tight your friend has you held up against him until you’re pushing your ass back into the press of his hips.

It makes you both gasp when you realise your mistake, and suddenly you’re feeling something hard press against your back as Dan Heng’s arm around you almost shakes. Though, unfortunately, the sound seems to bring those same footsteps back to the hallway of the closet, and you can only press your hands over your mouth as a way to smother your own voice.

You feel his next exhale cool over your suddenly warm features as he whispers down at you, “Just try not to move around so much. It only serves to make our current predicament more precarious.” But you’re burning up, not only because of the small space but with every no matter how subtle twitch, you can feel your friend behind you grow harder, hotter.

It makes your eyes want to roll back, “W-what? What do you mean? Should we just give up?” It was becoming quite awkward between you both, so you offer Dan Heng an out— as anyone would. But when his response to you is accompanied by him pulling you even closer, you assume you’re both feeling about the same.

“No need. She appears to be leaving.”

And when you listen closely, that does seem to be the case as you hear March’s footsteps begin their way down the hall again. Followed by a long sigh before the parlor door closes behind her and it’s just both of your bated breathes.

“Dan Heng, I’m sorry.” You say suddenly, and before Dan Heng can even ask what for, you find yourself fidgeting again. Though it’s more deliberate this time as you press yourself back into him, keening at the way his arm around your waist seems to hug you tight.

It makes him stiffen when your ass seems to wrap its way around his bulge and he mutters out the beginnings of a “What’re you—“ before it’s gone again with the next roll of your hips.

You don’t know what this means for both of you. But you know you don’t want stop as you feel his cock grind softly into you from behind, rocking you into the already tight space as you brace yourself on the wall opposite you with both hands.

Dan Heng readjusts himself for a moment before he finds a pace, and the new angle allows him to press his clothed cock between your thighs almost deliciously as he almost curls himself over you. The length of him pushes up against your sensitive folds through your clothes, and you have to cover your mouth with your hand again to moan.

“Do you want to find another hiding spot? S-somewhere with more space?” You ask, words muffled against your palm and stuttering in time with every grind of his hips. But he doesn’t answer you instantly, the head of his cock presses hard into the bump of your clit and it makes your thighs twitch.

Dan Heng offers you a soft kiss along your shoulder first, then a soft press of his fingers along your stomach before they’re travelling lower. The softness makes your head drop back, resting on his shoulder as he touches you and your legs almost buckle from beneath you completely when they rest between your thighs.

His eventual response accompanies the slow circle of his fingers along your clothed clit, and your bodies continue to hump against one like you have no intention of stopping anyway.

The already small space seems to only be getting warmer.

“It would probably be strange were we to emerge too soon. We s-should… hold back for now.”

౿ DR RATIO

You’re surprised that Ratio has allowed you to get this far. Infact, your surprise had began when he’d allowed you to accompany him around the Space Station at all — visiting a few researchers and tying up some loose ends before he began working on some newer projects.

He didn’t usually let you get involved in his work — not because he didn’t find you to capable, but because he thought you most likely had better things to do yourself. But when you’d given him that terribly cute look—fluttered eyelashes and an adorable blink���he’d only shrugged before letting you tag along.

But, you seem to have taken that opportunity for granted now as you both press up against a forgotten hallway in one of the many passages of the Station. The look Ratio is giving you is terribly pointed as he holds your features against his palm, eyes flickering down to where your thighs are closing tight around one of his own and even his gaze makes you flush.

“Veritas.” Your words purr, but he only meets them with a scoff. That sweet tone is exactly how you ended up in this position afterall.

“Oh, don’t call for me now, I am not the one to blame for you ending up in such an obvious state of desperation.” This was completely your fault, but all you’d wanted was a kiss— an innocent little one since you had been so patient and great company for him.

But as soon as you’d felt that first press of Ratio’s lips against yours ( after much convincing ), you’d forgotten just how good it felt when he twisted himself so perfectly into your mouth. He’d pushed his tongue between your lips to graze against your own and it only took a moment to have you whining, pressing your chest into his and quickly finding yourself crowded up into a corner between the wall and his huge body.

It had happened from there, he’d warned you to behave — to stop while you’re ahead because he knew how this was going to end up. But you’d only pulled him closer, arms curling around his shoulders until he was pressing into you — and his thigh seemed to slot between your own so perfectly.

But now you’re whining, almost begging for more as you grind yourself down on the muscle beneath you, and Ratio’s offering you a mere click of his tongue as your hands grab at his chest.“Though lest I remind you, I am the one with more at stake between the two. So I advise that you lower your voice.”

“Unless you are truly so desperate to give away our whereabouts.” His arms steady you regardless of how sharp his words may seem. Another sinful twist of your hips and you swear you feel the muscle beneath you tense, making you shake when it brushes quite perfectly against your clothed clit.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t wait I just.. can’t you help me?” Your voice wavers — far too unsteady with not only your want, but your need. Ratio knows exactly how to finish this quickly, should he see fit — but the fact that he’s making sure not to means that he can’t be as bothered about it as he’s letting on.

The noticeable bulge in his pants says enough by itself.

Your hands twist into the fabric at his chest and your thighs tremble with your next desperate hump, pulling him closer until he’s curling over you completely. And you feel Ratio’s breathe against your ear as his thigh presses in tighter, “You got yourself into this mess, you should’ve considered your outcomes before coming to this conclusion of all.”

“Though I can hardly see how you thought this to be the most appealing.” You give him another whine, the closer proximity doing wonders for your pussy as your clit grinds against the fabric and muscle of his thigh perfectly — making you shake as your pace wavers.

Ratio gives you a look that’s quite hard to read in your hormone-stricken state when you look up to meet him, close enough to feel his breathing fan across your cheeks. But the expression you’re wearing makes him scoff, almost… waver.

“A pity, truly.” His voice is tighter now, as are his hands when they squeeze around your waist — keeping you upright to make sure you don’t crumble completely. “Had you exercised more patience, well.. maybe I could’ve been convinced into assisting your efforts.” It’s a brisk little tease but it’s one that urges you to give him an incredibly sad, pleading look.

And it’s followed by another slow roll of your hips, the pleasure from your efforts making your thighs shake and jolt and despite the way you’re trying your best — you can barely keep up your pace with how good even this feels. But Ratio seems to have picked up on that already when he flexes his thigh again, deliberate and precise as he leans in to press his lips against your cheek,

“But it seems you’re barely able to withstand even this.” His voice seems lower now — crowding you into the corridor that’s deserted for now, but who knows when the next researcher will pass by to find you both in such a state.

Ratio seems to be more aware of that than anyone when he subtly presses his thigh up from beneath you, to bare against the soaked fabric of your damp panties and push even harder into your clit, until you can barely hold back your next moan. Even when your movements almost stop, his hands seem to rest quite heavily onto your hips as he urges you to continue.

Afterall, he thinks it’s best you see this through when he notices the quickly dampening spot on his clothes. It makes his hands squeeze into your skin as he tries to ignore the growing throb his cock, should you press yourself a little closer — your thigh may just brush against that aswell.

He clears his throat before his want suddenly shows, “Nonetheless, time is precious, wouldn’t you agree? So we shall soon see how far that enthusiasm of yours takes you.”

౿ AVENTURINE

It wasn’t unlike you to attend the Casino with Aventurine, afterall you were sure to turn heads and far too pretty for him to keep locked up in his hotel room. So what’s so wrong with a business deal turned date night? Especially when he went out of his way to dress you in the most luxury of garments, you blend right in when you’re wrapped around his arm and pressing up against him at the betting table.

Though with these little date nights came little games of your own — to make sure you stayed sharp, is what he would tell you. And even at that, there is no way anyone in the hall would have the nerve to interrupt you both anyway.

Which is why you’ve found yourself particularly close to Aventurine’s side tonight as he plays. You’re trying hard to focus on the game in front of you, but it’s proving to be quite hard when the gambler to your side is letting his free hand rest between your thighs.

The table you’re sitting at offers little to conceal the way your thighs are spread — were someone to walk past and take a look, your display would be quite obvious. But you’re covered for the men at the other side, which is why he’s trusting you not to give away your little game with any expressions.

You wouldn’t want to ruin his winning streak, right?

You half hear one of the men at the other side mention something to Aventurine, spitting something beneath his breath — a long winded way to accuse him of cheating most likely, given his own chips are close to being drained. But the man to your side only chuckles, continuing to let the pads of his fingers circle your clit through your already embarrassingly wet panties.

He drawls, “Oh really now?” Seeming unaffected, but you feel the way the confrontation urges him to press down on your clit harder. Not because he’s annoyed at the accusation, but because he’s annoyed this same man has been eyeing you for a little too long now.

Another mutter from the other side of the table, it lacks confidence — it’s more emotional, something about another game, all or nothing — you can’t focus enough to care. But Aventurine chuckles before you feel the cold press of his rings reach to pull your panties to the side, and your hands reach to grab and the end of the table to squeeze.

“Well, since you were so kind to invite me here tonight. What’s one more, hm?” The gambler to your side responds smoothly before he turns his attention to you. “How about it?” He makes sure to accompany his question to you with a soft swipe of his fingertips through your already soaked folds, so precisely that all you can offer him is a gasp and a rushed nod.

“Another game i-is fine.” You eventually manage and through your albeit cloudy gaze you can still see the way it makes Aventurine smirk.

Until his attention is back on the man opposite you both, “Looks like you’re in luck.” And he makes sure to reward you by slipping his index finger into your cunt with his next breath, hissing when he’s not met with much resistance and it makes you suck your lower lip between your teeth.

Aventurine’s pretty eyes seem to sharpen when his opponent gives you another glance, even if only for a moment. “Though I should probably warn you I’m feeling pretty lucky today, Friend.” And thankfully, the sudden low tone of the end of his sentence draws the attention back to him.

But because this is a game, whats the fun in not having it be a little challenging?

So as he watches the man opposite him fidget with his remaining few chips, Aventurine pushes another finger into join the first — angling them up against your sweet spot until he can feel your thighs twitch from where they’re pressed up against his. But then he speaks,

“Hm, won’t you do the honours?” Deliberately, before he’s pushing the deck of cards across the table to sit infront of you. And even though your eyes are unfocused you can still hear the deliberately honeyed tone to your lovers question. Though barely, when he emphasises his words by pushing his fingers deeper.

Your hands almost shake as you reach out to take the stack of cards, and Aventurine finds a pace as he languidly pumps his fingers in and out of your pussy, thumb rubbing hard circles into your clit as you try your best to focus. You shuffle the cards quickly, almost fumbling them when he gives you a few particularly sharp thrusts and you find yourself having to pause to breathe.

Your fingers twitch into the deck in your hands, and then suddenly you feel the gambler to your right’s lips press an open mouthed kiss along your cheek. It serves as something to keep you grounded despite the way his ministrations on your pussy only seem to be growing faster, until you can feel the pleasurable heat building dangerously in your stomach.

He doesn’t care what the other man across the table is doing, it’s just an innocent kiss for luck as far as he’s concerned. But if the music was a little quieter in the Casino he’d maybe be able to hear the squelch from beneath the table.

“Not gonna back out on me now, are you? I’d say your chances seem pretty good from where I’m sitting.”

౿ JING YUAN

It’s around 6pm by the time you visit Jing Yuan at the seat of divine foresight, one of the rare opportunities that you’re able to actually find him there given his preference to disappear in the afternoons for a nap.

The General always claimed it to be his more relaxing time of day, given how he’s already excused his advisor, Qingzu, for the time being. Meaning, all of his attention can now rest on you despite the endless amount of paperwork that still rests on his desk.

There are still a few stray Cloud Knights busying themselves by the entrance but despite that, it’s only you and Jing Yuan as you rest at his side now. Allowing him to entertain you with exaggerated stories as both of your thighs rest over one of his.

You’re giving him a gentle sort of look, and it’s one that makes him smile quite softly to himself as you listen intently.

“And what about you, my dear?” He asks a moment later, leaning in a little closer as he lets his arm stretch across the back of the seat behind you. “Is there anything you would like to speak of? We can talk about anything you want.”

Jing Yuan always looked at you in a way that made you feel flustered, finding yourself suddenly warm beneath the flicker of his amber-toned attention. Even when he’s at work he had no qualms about being affectionate with you, which is why he’s made sure to rest close enough for him to sneak in a kiss if he so wanted it.

But for now, he only teases you with that possibility— until you’re turning away to check on the Cloud Knights at the entrance. Making sure they don’t see your little show of PDA.

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to work, General? I was only dropping by to let you know I was making dinner.” Your lashes flutter as you respond to Jing Yuan’s earlier question, but you make no move to push yourself away from him. Instead, you continue to rest quite nicely, almost cuddled up against his side.

It makes him chuckle as he lets his free hand move to intertwine with yours, “Nonsense, you’ve come all this way. How could I give you the cold shoulder?” Bringing them up to place a kiss against your knuckles before his eyes narrow.

“I consider this a much deserved tea break from my work. Afterall, this time of day can be far too sleepy for me.” Jing Yuan’s words purr as he lets his lips linger along your fingers, his gaze locked onto yours with something akin to heat nestling its way into the swirls of gold. The look makes you swallow loudly before you adjust himself, squeezing your thighs over one of his own as you try to ignore it the ache between them.

“Yet you seem to be full of energy.” Your words are almost whispered, breathless despite how hard you tried to say them clearly.

But Jing Yuan seems to like that when he’s pulling your fingers away from his lips and guiding them down his chest next, allowing you to feel the soft press of the muscle beneath his uniform — only to let it fall on the hard press of something else in his slacks as it reaches its destination.

His voice turns lower, slower. “Hm, is that so? Well, it’s only right I put this to good use, wouldn’t you agree?” He guides your fingertips to wrap around him, palm pressing tight against his bulge before he urges you to squeeze and it makes him almost groan. “And, I think it’s safe to assume you came here with an intention in mind.”

“Jing Yuan, there are people here!” You respond nervously as you give the Cloud Knights at the entrance another look, but your fingers still squeeze around the heavy weight of Jing Yuan regardless. You allow him to move your palm to stroke at cock through his uniform and he knocks his thighs to spread even wider.

His eyes are still on you, “Oh? There’s no need to worry about that, my dear. I’ve seen to it that we won’t be disturbed.” And with his words you feel the arm that was previously across the back of the seat fall to curl around your hips, hoisting you closer as you stroke and squeeze your fingers around the length of him.

It’s risky, more so for Jing Yuan than you — you’re resting on the seat of Divine Foresight afterall. Were something to find you here….

But then the next particularly hard press of your palm against his cock makes his breathing stutter, and his hips tremble as he presses them up into your hand. Your train of thought is quickly given away with the squeeze of your own thighs at his reaction, almost licking your lips when the General lets his hand curl around your wrist to keep you there.

He knows your answer before he even asks.

“So won’t you humour me? It seems I have quite the excess of energy to burn through.”

star divider by @ saradika-graphics

[befallenstars-archive]

Would it be biased to say that I already knew it was gonna be good 'cuz Nyla's the one who wrote it? Maybe. But that doesn't mean that I was wrong.

Flaming pearls (sea otters) will always be so so so canon to me. The way the two of you just grow up with each other and feel safe in each other's presence. To know that you always have someone no matter what and that they always make an effort to make you feel that way too.

Spoilers and lots of yapping in the tags!

sparkler

cw. fem!reader, childhood friends au (dawn island era), pure fluff, pre-relationship, unrealized (mutual) feelings, first kiss, new year's kiss

pairing. portgas d. ace x reader

synopsis. on the eve of ace's 16th birthday, and your second to last new year in your hometown, you suggest trying your hand (or lips) at a staple new year's tradition.

notes. first fic of the year, baby! this time, it's going to the greatest anime man of all time, he deserves it. the reader is shorter than ace and happens to be the older of the two, but hopefully it's a fun read regardless. i like the writing the innocence and awkwardness of young love, it's really sweet. divider by @/cafekitsune.

"Well look at that," you giggle, unsurprised, at how Luffy lays eagle spread on his back. His snores filling the air make up for the lack of crickets. "He's knocked the hell out." You poke his cheek, the 12 year old's head turning with no resistance at the motion.

Ace snorts from his perch next to the window but the moonlight illuminates the softness of his expression. "Coming all the way out here was his idea too."

"I can stay up all night!" The boy flailed when the idea of awaiting New Year's Day in the old windmill was proposed. "I'm older now, so I won't fall asleep!" He insisted the same way he did the previous year when he was 11. And the year before that. And the year before that.

With an amused sigh, you cover the boy with another blanket as Ace continues, "we'll just have to wake him up. Again. He'll pout if we don't." You make a noise of agreement as you make your way back to your place at the window.

Even this far from the Goa Kingdom's most remote establishment, you can feel the buzzing excitement of the whole island. Something about the upcoming year does something to the atmosphere. You're sure even the nobles in High Town are anxious with anticipation in their extravagant attire and even more extravagant parties. Somehow you know those celebrations have nothing on the ones you have with your boys.

Typically you'd be in the heart of Mt. Corvo, watching as the clan of bandits sang and drank. After a raucous chorus of cheers as the clock struck midnight and the distant fireworks roared, a boisterous birthday song ensued once Luffy was shaken away with the promise of food. Dadan would gripe but she'd still bring a cake out the kitchen, the only time she'd let the 'gremlins living in her house' eat sugar so late.

It's a little different being in the old windmill.

The bandits are back home and Dadan said if they'd be out at the windmill all night, then they wouldn't be getting cake until tomorrow. A worthy sacrifice for the cause. Luffy wanted to see the fireworks this time, so the fireworks you'd see.

You breathe in the crisp winter air, watching in amusement as your breath billows into smoky plume when you exhale.

One more year. Almost, you add after a second. Once it's midnight, you officially have one more year before you and Ace leave this place. Resting your chin on your arms, you look at the dark-haired boy. Your fingers dig into your palms without your meaning to when you see his profile illuminated by the moon's glow.

Pretty is the word that comes to mind.

Ace has always been cute. It's been an objective fact since you were 10 and he was more sour than sweet. In this moment, however, 'pretty' is the only word you can use to describe him.

Ace is very pretty.

Elbow propped and chin resting on his palm, Ace is truly something to behold. Maybe it's in how you can barely see his freckles on his cheeks, or maybe it's in how the quiet breeze caresses his hair.

For a reason you can't fathom, the corner of your eyes prickle and they feel more sensitive to the cold.

I don't know why I wanna cry when I look at you sometimes, as if to ground yourself, you breathe deeply and the feeling passes. It's strange but it seldom happens. Maybe you're just happy that you're both still alive and the promise you made as little kids is going to come to fruition.

"I'll join your crew," you told him earnestly the winter after you turned 11. Dawn Island was covered in a blanket of snow and in an hour Luffy would stumble into your precious hideout and drop the bombshell of the century. Even then, it wouldn't matter. Ace's father could be the devil himself and he'd still be your friend, the captain of your crew. "Then you won't be alone when the journey's over because I'll still be there."

You'll both turn 17 and then you'll head off on a small boat to seas unknown. It's finally so close to happening. Just one more (almost) year and you'll leave late spring after Luffy's birthday. One more birthday before you go.

You don't realize you're staring until you see dark brown eyes looking back at you, lips turned in a shy smile. "What is it?"

You blink, suddenly aware of your surroundings again. Your cheeks feel hot in the cool night. "Nothing," you murmur. You hold each other's gaze in spite of your words when in any other situation you'd have looked away by now, embarrassed. A wave of silence, save for Luffy's snores, pass over you again. Like a babbling brook, you can't help yourself, opening your mouth once more. "You've just… changed a lot, I guess."

"They're good changes, right?" Ace chuckles sheepishly.

It's a contagious feeling, your lips curling upwards at the sound. The Ace you know now smiles more than he frowns and looks the most alive in the sun. It's a stark contrast to the boy you first met. The one who frowned constantly and pushed away anyone who tried to get close, akin to a scared cat. "Yeah," you nod into your arms, not minding how your cheek presses against your eye. "Definitely good." So is the fuzzy feeling in your chest; the one always happy when Ace is around.

His smile is a little softer; at least that's what it looks like. "Good." Good. "It's also pretty good I'm taller than you now, huh?"

"Oh shut up," you shove the boy lightly. You may have been the tallest of your band when you were 10, but it came to a staggering halt after you reached 160 centimeters. You'd fought hard but Ace had eventually surpassed you when you were 12 and he hasn't let you forget since. "I'm still older than you, you know," you remind him petulantly.

"And you'll still be short," Ace replies all too pleased with himself.

You glare at Ace sourly before the two of you erupt in shared laughter. "Stop being an ass," you say as your laughter subsides into light huffs. "Makino'll cry if she knows you're being mean to me."

"There was nothing in her lessons against teasing," Ace snorts and the laughter subsides.

Holding each other's gazes does not.

Your shoulders feel tense even when there is no reason for them to be. It's strange to be even a little nervous around someone you trust with your entire life. Ace doesn't seem to have the same problem, though. At least, until you notice his hand flexing between an open and closed palm.

The two of you jolt at the sound of a particularly loud yelp, eyes whipping in the direction of the village.

It's time?

A moment passes, however, and there are no fireworks.

Damn.

The two of you sigh in exasperated unison. "False alarm," Ace grumbles.

"Looks like Luffy gets a few more Z's, then," you drape yourself over the window sill. Even the silhouettes of the windmills from which the village earned its name look like they're growing antsy. "You're lucky, your birthday always comes with a guaranteed light show."

"It's just an excuse for everyone to get wasted and call off work," Ace waves a hand nonchalantly in dismissal. "Even at Dadan's everyone ends up sleeping in until 3."

"No," you sit up properly once more. "The entire world is celebrating. That's special."

It's brief but a humorless huff escapes Ace's lips, "they're not celebrating me."

He doesn't look at you when he says it, eyes firmly staring out the window. You're sure he feels your eyes on him though. "They're all celebrating your birthday because I said so," you scoot a bit closer, nudging him with your elbow. "You get the biggest party, a guaranteed light show, all the works. You even get all the once-a-year traditions!"

At your clumsy insistence, he looks your way with the smallest hint of a smile for your efforts. "Getting drunk is an all the time thing at our place."

Our place, he says it seamlessly. Like you've belonged at Dadan's your whole life when you only started staying over more and more after your grandfather passed. "Hey don't doubt me, I am the fun fact queen," you puff our your chest, feeling light. "There's this kingdom in the New World called Dressrosa; a book I read said they eat 12 grapes! And other islands close by to it party at cemeteries!"

"That one sounds like something you'd do," Ace adds in his commentary.

You're giddy at how he knows you so well, "and in some countries, they hang onions on their door."

"Onions?"

"Onions," you repeat yourself solemnly.

"It's nice to know people are out there hanging up onions on my birthday," Ace snickers. Another grin breaks out across your face at the sight. "What are people doing here on Dawn Island then?"

"Drinkin'."

"I already know that one!" You don't dodge how Ace pinches your cheek, giggling all the while.

You shake away his hand, not minding how the sensation of his touch lingers on your skin. "Okay, okay, I'll be serious," you sigh as if he is asking you to bring him all of your weight in gold. You think back to New Year's Eves and midnight celebrations past. Demarius and the gang are probably down there right now, you realize.

If someone had told you when you were 10 you'd grow a moderate distance apart from your Windmill Village friends, you would call them crazy. A boring adult who liked spoiling the fun of children. Sure enough the non-existent prophecy came true.

It's been 6 years since you were a child playing Marines only because it's what Demarius and Stacey wanted to play. Your game of choice, Adventuring Sailor, was apparently too vague.

You seldom saw them unless you made the effort to trek down town. Visit your old home, dust off your old things. Visiting your grandfather's grave. Then you'd swing by Pierre's and suddenly you were all together again chatting like not much had changed between you.

Demarius and Stacey counted down the days until Garp would finally take them to a navy base like he promised. "We just have to be 16 and he'll take us to enlist." They'll be leaving this year then.

Lisa Lisa being 13 still has a few years (soon to be a couple) to go.

Pierre is more than content to take over his family's farm. Windmill Village is all he knows and all he is interested in knowing.

Then there's you, the aspiring pirate. It didn't have to be a pirate; you just wanted to be on the sea with no strict rules and regulations telling you where to go. Pirate just sort of became what you will end up doing. Your friends are kind enough not to comment on it. Much. Demarius still tries getting you to change your mind from time to time.

There's a clear divide between you all now, minute it may be. They're not your closest confidants anymore and you're not theirs.

The New Year's celebrations you had together in the past were still fun though.

Makino and the aunties made a huge spread, everyone sang and then there was the countdown to ring in the new year. You'd always been too concerned with the fireworks ー large, blooming flowers in the sky. You saw it sometimes, though, if you glanced around before your eyes looked up.

There's always a handful of people who press their lips against one another when the clock strikes 12 and the fireworks are soaring.

"Uhh, people kiss." Ace sputters at your words, coughing in surprise. "Yeah people kiss; no bullshit," you confirm before he can ask you to repeat yourself.

"Why?!"

You shrug, ignoring how your own heart is beating less evenly, "Makino said it's supposed to make your love life lucky in the new year. But I dunno," when you visited a week prior, Stacey had been prime for his New Year's kiss. Apparently he's had a bunch; you wouldn't know, you haven't been in town for New Year's Eve since Luffy, Ace and Sabo became part of your life. "Stacey's apparently been macking it up since we were 14 and I've never seen the guy date anybody."

Ace looks like he's run a 5k after he collects himself. You hold back a chuckle knowing it'd embarrass him further. I kinda wish it was tomorrow already. It's cute when Ace blushes, looking reminiscent of a strawberry. It's a look you're surprisingly fond of. "Have you?"

Ace looks at you with a raised eyebrow, "have I what?"

"Have you ever kissed anyone at midnight?"

"No," Ace mutters, shoulders up to his ears as he avoids your gaze. "I was busy beating up thugs for pirate savings back then." He certainly hadn't kissed anyone at New Year's in the time you've known him. The most affection he ever gets are clasps on the shoulder and proud hugs. "Besides who would I have even kissed? Dadan? Dogra?"

You snort, "you're not their type."

He rolls his eyes at your jibe, "yeah, yeah, neither are you."

A breeze passes by and you blink, staring at Ace's form, not a single thought passing through your mind. Truly, it's word vomit at its finest. You aren't sure what makes you say, "well what about kissing me?"

It's when Ace looks at you, eyes wide, and face undoubtedly red even if its tinted blue in the moonlight, that you feel bashful. You can't find it in you to retract your words, you grip your knees tightly. You wonder if you look more calm than you feel. "You know, for New Year's. I haven't either and," you suddenly cough, unsure of who you're trying to convince more. "Well, it isn't like I'm trying to fall in love any time soon or anything but I've never kissed anyone. And if I'm gonna I don't want it to be weird. Or with someone I don't know. You're my best friend so it won't be weird. Not that we have to," you add quickly.

The seconds, minutes or perhaps years it takes for Ace to answer feel like eons. Waking up Luffy in time for the fireworks seems like a less daunting task. Maybe you should, lest you die of embarrassment where you sit.

Thankfully ー thankfully ー Ace puts you out of your misery with a shy glance. "Alright," his voice is barely a whisper. He nods, more to himself than you, in a bout of self-assurance. "Yeah, let's do it."

"Alright," you agree dumbly.

As if they sense the agreement taking place, there is a distant chorus of excited squeals and laughs. You look out at the townscape, mind misty. When you strain your ears, you can vaguely hear the countdown beginning. 'Ten!'

Your heart clenches and Ace stutters at the same time, panicked, "Where- where do the noses go?"

Licking your lips, fidgeting, "I go one way, you go the other? That's what everyone else does."

'Eight!'

"You're sure?"

"Yeah," you suppress an anxious shudder, equal parts excited and terrified. It's Ace, it's fine. There's nothing nerve wracking about it, you tell yourself. Imagine if this was a stranger. Or worse, someone else you know. But this is Ace. You're safe with Ace, that thought makes you a fraction less nervous.

'Five!'

"What about Luffy?"

'Three!'

You spare a glance at the boy in question, still snoring away and unaware to your situation. "We'll wake him up in time."

'One!'

It's you who leans first, a bottle of nervosity and too much energy. Crossing the very thin line into Ace's space, hands resting upon the cool wooden floorboards, you press your lips against his. There's a panicked noise he makes and you jolt away with your own, "sorry, I panicked!"

Fireworks scatter across the sky, setting the sky aglow but you barely even notice it. "It's alright, I did too," Ace murmurs, brushing his fingers across his lips. You aren't sure what kind of expression he's making. Wherever he is, he isn't in the same room as you. He looks at you and you flinch, not sure if you're fearful or still full of too much energy. "We, we can try again," the sky turns red and paints Ace in a flush hue. "If you want."

Slowly you nod, "I want to."

Considerably calmer, you release a breath and this time Ace is doing the leaning. Your noise of surprise is soundless as his face slowly, carefully grows closer. In the light of the fireworks and the moon, you see him look at your lips and you swallow as your heart stutters. "It's really okay?" Ace asks, voice small.

You nod, twice for good measure, foreheads tapping against each other lightly. "It's okay."

He moves a fraction of a centimeter, glancing from your lips to yours eyes again before finally closing the gap. Your eyes close, lips puckering instinctively at the feel another against your own.

His lips are slightly chapped, warm. Ace has always been warm; he's like your own personal fireplace during the winter. It's nice. He's nice like this, lips snug against your own like you're made of something precious even if you're not. It's a kiss that feels like it lasts forever yet not long enough when he pulls away and you trail after him for a half a second before stopping yourself.

The room is gold when you open your eyes and suddenly you can hear the fireworks again. When did you stop hearing them in the first place? Brown eyes stare into your own, noses not far apart.

It's like you're the only two people in the world like this; just you and Ace.

The corner of your eyes feel prickly again, your breath intertwining in the small space between you. It must be the fireworks making you feel a tad more sentimental and you're not sure how to tether yourself to feeling normal again. Not when either of you are unsure how to break the silence, unable to look away from each other.

A shade of green erupts over the sky, a color not native to Ace at all that causes you to say something. "Happy birthday," you breathe dreamily.

Ace's lips twitch before breaking in a medium sized grin, "thanks."

You come to your senses with a hiss, "fuck, we have to get Luffy up before the fireworks end." Your knees ache as you rise onto your feet and your legs are a bit shaky as you step towards the boy. "Luffy! Get up, it's Ace's birthday! There's a meat merchant passing by!"

Luffy is up faster than you can blink, "meat?!"

"No but it is Ace's birthday," you snort, shaking your head in amusement.

That brings a brighter grin on Luffy's face, eyes shining. Luffy is as Luffy does, he wastes no time breaking into song. "Happy birthday to you," he begins, off-key as always but you join in with his singing. Your chest burns something golden that doesn't hurt and you suppress the urge to press your fingers against your lips.