#Gentle Footprints

[mikefrawley]

Gentle Footprints

Gentle footprints upon the shore dancing softly to the ocean’s roar a golden angel, queen of the beach so close yet eternally out of reach while knowing we are worlds apart oh how I so yearn to hold her heart I remain a dreamer, silly foolish me hopelessly wishing for never to be she’s but a vision smiling at the shore and yet I will love her forever more

[sysig]

Nightly squabbles, the usual (Patreon)

[mishalogic]

Gentle days of holding hands

two hearts meet, life's sweet and grand.

Gentle pleasures as we stroll along

in young ones hearts and souls

loving little footprint song.

Small hands to show the way,

we love our walks,

especially on a sunny day! ... Misha

[fvsm4x]

#MAYBE IN ANOTHER LIFE? [Gojo Satoru] part II

SUMMARY: Your boyfriend, who you loved more than anything, who was your will to live, broke up with you.

— C.W: ex-boyfriend! Gojo satoru x depressed! female reader , Geto Suguru x female reader , dark themes , no happy ending w gojo , no curses au.

— WORD COUNT: 5.1k+

— A/N: I was supposed to finish this next week but- oh well..I hope you like it.

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read part I for better understanding

It has been several months since your breakup with Gojo, and you find yourself still living with Geto. Despite the change in your relationship status, your bad habits are still there. However, there is a silver lining to this situation - you no longer struggle as much as you have, because you no longer have the burden of paying the bills due time.

At first, you felt guilty about letting Geto pay the financial responsibility alone. You insisted on contributing your fair share. However, Geto, being the persuasive individual he is, somehow managed to convince you otherwise. He made a compelling argument, suggesting that it would be wiser for you to save up the money you earn through your work. By doing so, you would have the means to purchase necessary items for yourself in the future.

But in return geto wanted you to go grocery shopping and cook meals for him. It became a daily routine for you to venture out and purchase the necessary ingredients. Despite the repetitive nature of this task, you never complained. After all, Geto had provided you with a roof over your head and so much more. It was your way of expressing gratitude and repaying him for his generosity.

Living with Geto turned out to be a pleasant experience. He was not only caring but also incredibly kind. Whenever you found yourself in the midst of a mental breakdown, he was there to offer support. His comforting presence was like a soothing balm for your troubled mind. He would hold you close, whispering words of reassurance and understanding into your ear, doing whatever it took to make you feel okay again.

One incident that truly showcased Geto's empathy and understanding was when you were cutting yourself in the bathroom. Instead of scolding you or telling you to stop, he patiently waited behind the closed door until you had calmed down. Only then would he enter, carefully addressing your wounds with a gentle touch. It was evident that he understood the pain of depression and the toll it took on one's well-being.

After all - he had once also experienced depression.

Today, as usual, you found yourself needing to go shopping for fresh ingredients. With a shopping bag in hand, you left the room and made your way to the door that led outside.

Before stepping out, you reached for the jacket hanging near the door. It was Geto's jacket. Although you had your own jacket, Geto insisted that you wear his to protect yourself from the cold. It was that time of year when snowflakes gracefully fell from the sky and the air had a biting chill to it.

At first, Geto had wanted to buy you a new jacket, but you kindly declined, not wanting him to spend any more money on you. Instead, he offered you the option of wearing his jacket.

And so, you found yourself slipping into his jacket, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort as you prepared to face the wintry weather outside.

You stepped outside, and were greeted by a winter wonderland. The world around you was transformed into a picturesque scene straight out of a postcard. The ground was blanketed in a pristine layer of snow, untouched by footprints. The trees stood tall and proud, their branches adorned with delicate icicles that shimmered in the soft sunlight. The air was crisp and invigorating, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and the promise of a magical day ahead.

As you made your way through the snowy landscape, you couldn’t help but marvel at the beauty that surrounded you. The snowflakes gently fell from the sky, dancing and twirling as they made their descent, creating a mesmerizing spectacle. Each flake was unique, with intricate patterns and delicate edges that seemed to defy the laws of nature.

The sound of your footsteps crunching in the snow echoed through the stillness, breaking the silence and adding a touch of life to the serene atmosphere. The cold air nipped at your cheeks.

The sight of children building snowmen and families engaged in friendly snowball fights filled your heart with a bittersweet mix of joy and longing. The laughter and playful shouts echoed through the air, creating an atmosphere of pure happiness. It reminded you of the times you had dreamt of a future with gojo, imagining what it would be like to have children of your own, to experience these simple joys as a family.

But reality hit you hard, like a cold gust of wind cutting through your thoughts. Gojo had moved on, finding happiness with someone else. It was a painful truth that you had to accept, even though it still stung deep within. The image of Gojo laughing and playing in the snow with that girl flashed in your mind, a reminder that he had chosen a different path, a different future.

You took a deep breath, pushing away the thoughts that threatened to dampen your spirits.

„Y/n?“ a voice spoke from behind. Your eyes widened as you saw him standing there, your ex, with his signature white hair, piercing sky blue eyes, and tall frame. It was Gojo, the person who had once held your heart in his hands.

He stood before you, his gaze scanning your form before settling on your face. The intensity of his stare made you feel both nervous and vulnerable. You instinctively took a step back, creating a physical distance between you. Gojo noticed your retreat and froze, his eyes narrowing as he tried to decipher your reaction. Your slightly closed eyes and the way you avoided his gaze spoke volumes, revealing the pain and longing that still lingered within you.

“Gojo…” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you nervously fidgeted with the collar of your jacket. The mention of his name caused Gojo’s eyes to drop, a mixture of guilt and regret washing over his features. He had always been used to being called by his first name, but hearing his last name from your lips felt like a painful reminder of the distance that now existed between you.

“How are you?” he asked, attempting to regain eye contact with you.

“I’m okay… I guess,” you replied, finally meeting his gaze. Gojo took a step forward, closing the physical gap between you. His hand gently rested on both of your shoulders, sending a wave of shivers down your spine. The touch was both familiar and foreign, stirring up a mix of emotions within you. You felt nervous, almost scared, unsure of how to navigate this unexpected encounter.

“Listen, I’m sorry for… you know… that we fired you from work. It was really not my intention,” Gojo apologized. You interrupted him, trying to downplay the significance of his actions.

“It’s fine, I forgive you,” you said, your voice lacking conviction. You tried your best to ignore the warmth of his hands on your shoulders, focusing on maintaining your composure. Gojo’s eyes widened as he observed your dropped gaze, uncertain if you were truly okay with what had transpired.

“What?” he asked again, his fingers tightening around your shoulders. That’s when he noticed your jacket, a sense of familiarity washing over him. His fingers instinctively moved to the back of your neck, pulling down the collar to read the name written there.

Geto Suguru.

His best friend’s name was emblazoned on the collar of the jacket you were wearing. It suddenly dawned on him that this was not your jacket, but Geto’s. The scent of Geto’s cologne lingered faintly, intertwining with your own. Gojo’s eyebrows furrowed as a whirlwind of thoughts flooded his mind. Was this some sort of revenge? Did you pursue Geto to get back at him, to gain his attention? How did Geto even know about your breakup, despite Gojo never mentioning it to him?

He never expected you to move on so quickly. He knew you had your fair share of struggles, and he had always been the one to bring light into your life. He had believed that you would do anything for him. But the realization that you had seemingly moved on so swiftly ignited a pang of jealousy within him. He had a girlfriend now, he shouldn’t feel this way. His girlfriend was better for him than you, but the sight of you wearing Geto’s jacket still managed to stir something deep within him.

The way you shivered under his touch made him quickly withdraw his hands. “I said it’s okay, I forgive you,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible.

“So, you and Suguru?” he asked, ignoring your response. You raised an eyebrow, ready to answer his question, but before you could speak, your phone began to ring. You quickly retrieved it from your pocket, glancing at the caller ID.

Suguru.

Gojo awkwardly stood there, his gaze shifting between you and the phone in your hand. He couldn’t help but notice that the phone you were holding was different from the one he had once bought you. The mark on the phone indicated that it was a cheaper model, a flip phone, unlike the expensive one he had gifted you. Confusion washed over him as he wondered why you would exchange a high-end phone for a cheaper alternative.

Little did he know that you had sold the phone he had given you out of necessity. You had run out of money and needed to pay the bills for the motel you were staying in. Desperate times had forced you to part with the precious gift, opting for a more affordable option.

After answering the call, you quickly excused yourself, explaining that you needed to go buy groceries. However, before you could make your way out, Gojo reached out and gently grabbed your arm, in which you hissed.

"Wait," he said, "Are you and Suguru dating?" His question hung in the air, his eyes searching yours for any hint of confirmation or denial.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to explain the situation. "No, Gojo," you replied, your voice soft but firm. "I just live with him. We're roommates."

Gojo's grip on your arm loosened slightly, his expression shifting from confusion to relief. The relief was evident in his eyes, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

"I see," he said, "I'm glad to hear that." There was a brief pause between the two of you as you tried to progress what he just said.

Why would Gojo be glad to hear that you and Geto weren't dating? As you tried to process his reaction, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a key, extending it towards you.

"Uh, since you live with Suguru, it must be bothersome for you," he stammered, struggling to find the right words. "Take this apartment key. It's for you, as an apology for getting you fired."

You hesitated, unsure of what to do. You didn't want anything from Gojo, especially not as a form of apology. "I'm fine being with Suguru. I don't need this key," you replied, pressing it back into his chest. You turned around, ready to walk away and put this painful encounter behind you.

But before you could take another step, Gojo's voice called out, desperation lacing his words. "Wait, please take it!" His hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, causing you to flinch. The pain from the cuts on your arms intensified, and tears welled up in your eyes.

You quickly shrugged off his hand, wanting to escape the physical pain. As you looked up at Gojo, you saw his eyes downcast, filled with remorse. It hurt to see him like this, knowing that you still hadn't fully moved on from him. You wanted him to be happy, to see him smile, but it seemed like that was a distant dream.

"Okay, I'll take it. Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible. You reached out and took the key from his hand. With a heavy heart, you turned away from him, determined to focus on the task at hand. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go buy groceries."

"Right, uh... have a good day, Y/n!" Gojo called after you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you walked away,

—

"Suguru, I'm home," you called out, stepping into his house and slipping off your shoes and jacket. The familiar scent of Suguru's home enveloped you as you made your way to the living room, where Geto was lounging on the sofa, engrossed in a TV show.

"Welcome back," he greeted, turning his head to meet your gaze with a warm smile.

"I have some news," you announced, making your way to the kitchen to unload the groceries. Geto followed you, his curiosity piqued, and settled on a chair at the kitchen island, facing you.

As you began to unpack the grocery bag, placing items into the fridge, you tossed a bag of chips to Geto. He caught it effortlessly, his eyes lighting up with gratitude as he opened the bag and popped a chip into his mouth.

"So, what's the news?" he asked, his voice muffled by the chips.

"Well," you started, carefully choosing your words, "I found an apartment." You decided not to mention that it was Gojo who had bought it for you. The thought of Gojo's gesture still stirred up conflicting emotions within you.

Geto's eyebrows raised,"Where is it?"

You continued to organize the groceries, avoiding eye contact as you replied, "It's not too far from here, and it‘s quite big too, so if you want you can move in with me. You know, it‘s really nice to finally have someone who cares for me other than satoru.." you trailed off.

You mustered the courage to look back at Geto's face, and your heart skipped a beat at the wide-open eyes staring back at you. "You want me to move in with you...?" he asked,

"Yeah... I'm afraid I got attached to you... sorry," you muttered, your hands finding their way onto the counter as you looked down, unable to meet his gaze.

Geto was taken aback by your confession. He had always known about your deep love for Satoru, as you would often seek solace in his room after a nightmare, finding comfort in his presence. In those vulnerable moments, you would whisper Satoru's name as you fell asleep, leaving Geto to silently bear the weight of unrequited love.

From the moment he first laid eyes on you, fate seemed to have decided that he would fall in love with you. But to his surprise, you were already dating his best friend when you first crossed paths. He had initially dismissed you as one of Satoru's chicks, assuming that you would be discarded after a short while. But it turned out that your relationship with Satoru was serious, and his heart couldn't help but ache with jealousy.

He couldn't help but steal glances at the way you looked at Satoru, the admiration in your eyes and the way your lips curved into a smile whenever he was around. It made him envious, but he knew he had no right to feel that way towards his best friend. So he buried his own feelings and pretended to like you only as a friend, even though his heart yearned for more.

As time went on, Geto began to notice a change in Satoru's behavior. The manwhore tendencies he had abandoned when you and he started dating seemed to resurface. It was as if he had grown tired of the commitment and started seeking the attention of other women right in front of Geto's eyes.

The pain of witnessing Satoru's infidelity gnawed at Geto's heart. He wanted to protect you, to tell you about Satoru's behaviour, but he couldn't bear the thought of hurting you with those words. He knew how deeply attached you were to Satoru, how you would forgive him for every transgression, even something as devastating as cheating. You simply couldn't let him go.

Until one day, the inevitable happened. The two of you broke up.

The news hit Geto like a punch to the gut. On one hand, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of relief that you were no longer tied to Satoru's unfaithfulness. But on the other hand, he knew that your heart would be shattered, and he couldn't bear the thought of seeing you in pain.

You stood there in the kitchen, glare dropped as you mentioned your ex‘s name. Geto's heart ached for you. He wanted to offer comfort, to hold you close and assure you that everything would be okay. But he knew that the wounds were fresh, and he would have to tread carefully, waiting for the right moment to reveal his own feelings.

For now, all he could do was be there for you, offering a shoulder to lean on and a listening ear.

„Sure..I can move in with you if that‘s what you would like.“ he spoke, forcing a smile.

Your eyes immediately lightened up as you heard his words,“really?“ you asked.

Geto nodded, his smile growing wider as he saw the genuine happiness radiating from your face. "Yes, really," he replied,“I want to be there for you, to support you and care for you in ways that Satoru couldn't."

A wave of gratitude washed over you as you realized the depth of Geto's commitment. It was a stark contrast to the fleeting affection you had experienced with Satoru. You had always yearned for someone who would truly see you, who would cherish and prioritize your happiness above all else. And now, standing before you, was Geto, offering you just that.

A mixture of emotions swirled within you - excitement, relief, and a tinge of sadness for the end of your relationship with Satoru. You took a step closer to Geto, your eyes locked with his, as you whispered, "Thank you. Thank you for being here for me."

Geto's smile softened,"You don't have to thank me," he replied gently.

-

No.

No.

No. No. No..

What is this?

This is not what Gojo expected when he entered his apartment after being away for a week. The first thing he heard were moans coming from his and his girlfriend's bedroom, and immediately he made his way there to investigate. What he saw was something he never could have imagined. His girlfriend, completely naked, was on top of someone else, riding them on their shared bed where they used to make love. It was a scene that shattered his heart and left him feeling betrayed.

She was cheating on him.

Gojo stood frozen by the door, his eyes wide with shock, his eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, and his once joyful smile replaced by a look of pain.

As he looked at the girl who had been his girlfriend just moments ago, Gojo couldn't help but draw parallels between her and you. The guilt he had felt then was nothing compared to the remorse that now gnawed at his soul.

In that moment, he couldn't fully comprehend the impact of his actions, but now, as he stood in that bedroom, he felt the weight of his betrayal crashing down upon him.

Gojo's gaze shifted from his ex-girlfriend to the guy who had been underneath her. A surge of jealousy and insecurity coursed through him, as he couldn't help but compare himself to this unknown person. Who was he? What did he possess that Gojo lacked? The comparison was inevitable, and it only added fuel to the fire of pain that already consumed him. Doubts gnawed at his mind, questioning his worthiness and wondering if he had failed to measure up, if he had been inadequate in some way.

The room felt suffocating. Gojo's heart pounded in his chest, each beat a painful reminder of the shattered love and trust that lay in ruins.

Gojo stormed into the bedroom, his anger and hurt fueling his every step. The force with which he swung the door open was a reflection of the turmoil raging within him, a physical manifestation of the chaos that had erupted in his life. His eyes, filled with a mix of desperation and fury, locked onto the figure lying beneath his now ex-girlfriend.

"Satoru, wait!" the girl cried out, her voice laced with panic and fear, as she was pushed away from the person beneath her. But Gojo was beyond reason, consumed by a maelstrom of emotions that drowned out any pleas for mercy.

Gojo lunged forward, his hand shooting out to seize a handful of her hair. The pain of his grip was a stark contrast to the tenderness he had once shown her, a cruel reminder of the power he held over her in that moment. Their eyes locked, and in that intense gaze, he saw her pupils constrict, a sign of both fear and resignation. Her lower lip quivered, a silent plea for him to release her from his grasp.

But Gojo was deaf to her pleas, his grip on her hair only tightening as she desperately tried to free herself. The sound of her voice, trembling with vulnerability, fell upon deaf ears as he murmured a single word, "Why..." His voice was filled with a mix of confusion and betrayal, unmoved by the smaller hands that desperately attempted to pry his hold loose.

And then, like a dagger to his heart, she uttered the words that shattered his world. "I'm sorry! I found someone else—I love him... please, let go!" Her voice trembled with a mixture of guilt and desperation, her words echoing in the air like a painful confession.

The weight of those words crashed into Gojo's consciousness like a tidal wave, the impact reverberating through his entire being. Found someone else...? The realization hit him with a force that stole the breath from his lungs. These were the same words he had once spoken to you, the words that had torn your world apart.

As if struck by lightning, Gojo released his grip on her hair, his hand falling limply to his side. He stepped back, his eyes filled with a mix of shock and disbelief. The girl, now free from his hold, collapsed onto the bed, her body crumpling under the weight of the emotional turmoil that had unfolded before her.

Was this the same anguish you had felt when he had confessed he had found someone else? Did he truly forsake someone as remarkable as you for this girl? The weight of his actions settled heavily upon his shoulders, a burden he could no longer ignore.

As he turned away from the girl and the person she had been with, Gojo's mind became a whirlwind of regrets and what-ifs. Memories of your time together flashed before his eyes, each one a painful reminder of what he had lost. The pain of his own betrayal and the pain he had inflicted upon you mingled within him, creating a storm of guilt and remorse.

Gojo found himself in the living room, his body sinking into the couch as he attempted to make sense of it all. The weight of betrayal pressed upon him, threatening to crush him beneath its burden. It was as if his entire world had crumbled in an instant, leaving him feeling adrift and broken.

His mind was swirling with regrets and unanswered questions, he couldn't help but wonder if there was any way to mend what had been irreparably broken. Could he ever earn back your trust? Could he ever make amends for the pain he had caused? The questions plagued his thoughts, but the answers remained elusive.

With a heavy heart weighing him down, Gojo rose from the comfort of the couch and made his way towards the front door. The weight of his emotions pushed him to leave, to escape the haunting memories that seemed to linger within the walls of the apartment. His mind was consumed by a single thought - he needed to find you, to apologize before it was too late. Perhaps, just maybe, you would find it in your heart to forgive him.

However, little did Gojo know that time was not on his side. As he hurriedly made his way to the apartment he had given you, a place that was meant to be his girlfriend’s sanctuary, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief that he had entrusted you with the key instead. The thought of seeing you again, of having the chance to make things right, gave him a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness that surrounded him.

Arriving at the apartment, Gojo rushed up the stairs, his mind filled with a whirlwind of thoughts about what he would say when he finally saw you. His hand instinctively reached into his pocket, grasping onto the spare keys that he had kept for emergencies. With a mix of anticipation and anxiety, he approached the door that was supposed to lead him to you. Taking a deep breath, he inserted the key into the lock, turning it slowly and opening the door.

However, instead of being greeted by an empty room, Gojo found himself standing in the midst of a completely transformed space. The apartment had undergone a complete renovation, a stark contrast to the memories he had held onto. But amidst the unfamiliar surroundings, his eyes were drawn to something that instantly caught his attention - clothes scattered across the floor. A shirt, two pairs of pants, and a bra lay haphazardly, creating a puzzle that Gojo couldn’t help but try to piece together.

Confusion furrowed his brow as he pondered the presence of the bra on the floor. If there was no sound of moaning or clapping, then it meant that you didn’t have anyone over, right? But the pants… they were definitely not yours. They were too wide, too different from your usual style. Gojo’s gaze swept the room, searching for answers, before he made his way through the apartment, his steps guided by an unexplainable instinct.

He stopped in front of a closed door, hesitating for a moment before gently pushing it open, revealing a sight that shattered his heart into a million pieces. His eyes widened in disbelief as they landed on Geto, his best friend, lying in bed with you cradled in his arms. The sight of Geto’s upper body, partially exposed, showcased his muscular chest and abs, while your figure rested against him, your shoulders and neck adorned with small, telltale bruises. Both of you were fast asleep, blissfully unaware of the presence of another person standing by the door.

A mixture of shock, betrayal, and anger coursed through Gojo’s veins as he tried to comprehend what he was witnessing. Why was Geto here? He had always been aware of Geto’s secret crush on you, but he had never expected his best friend to make a move, especially not with you. The pain in Gojo’s heart intensified as he saw you, the person he believed to be his and his alone, in someone else’s arms, covered in another person’s kisses and bruises.

Gojo stood there, his heart heavy with disbelief and heartbreak. Tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to spill over. Was it too late? Was there no way to fix what he had done?

Suddenly, a voice broke through his thoughts, bringing him back to reality. It was his best friend, looking at him with a mix of concern and frustration. Gojo's eyes met his, and he could see the unspoken question in them.

"You gonna continue staring or what?" his best friend asked, his tone slightly teasing.

Gojo's emotions surged, and he couldn't hold back the words any longer. "You did it on purpose, didn't you? You waited for the moment she was vulnerable so you could swoop in and be her hero. All in the hope of leading her into bed."

His fists clenched, and he wiped away the tears with the back of his sleeve. His best friend remained calm, his gaze steady. "I'm merely doing what you couldn't. I'm here for her, offering support and care in ways you never could, Satoru."

Gojo's anger flared, and he shouted, "What do you mean?!" But his best friend cut him off, his voice firm but gentle.

"Don't shout, she's had a tough night and deserves some rest," he said, covering you with a blanket.

"You act like you're some kind of savior. What gives you the right to step in and play hero in her life?"

His best friend sighed, meeting Gojo's gaze with unwavering resolve. "I'm doing it because she deserves genuine care and someone who will love her just the way she does."

Gojo's eyes widened, his mouth falling open in disbelief. "I love her just the way she does!"

"If you did," his best friend calmly replied, "you wouldn't have cheated on her multiple times and then left her for someone else."

The accusation hung heavily in the air, shattering any pretense of composure between the two friends. Gojo felt the weight of his best friend's words, realizing the depth of the hurt he had caused. The room seemed to echo with the fractured friendship and the complex emotions entangled in this unexpected confrontation.

"I never wanted things to turn out like this," Gojo confessed, his voice filled with regret. "What do you expect me to do now?"

His best friend's gaze hardened, his voice firm. "Face the consequences of your actions, Satoru. But understand this: she doesn't want anything to do with you now. Give up and let her find the happiness she deserves elsewhere."

A heavy silence fell over the room. Gojo struggled to find a response, a knot forming in his stomach. His best friend continued, his voice softer this time.

"She moved on, Satoru," he said, his eyes filled with a mix of empathy and deception. "You broke her trust, and she's found someone who treats her with the respect and love she deserves. Don't complicate her life any further."

Gojo's jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists as the realization hit him. The person beneath the blanket, blissfully unaware of the turmoil surrounding them, remained a symbol of the consequences of his actions.

"I messed up, I know that," Gojo admitted, his voice filled with remorse. "But I can't just give up on her."

His best friend's expression hardened. "Giving up isn't about abandoning her; it's about respecting her choices. She doesn't want you in her life anymore. Accept that and move forward."

"You had your chance, Satoru. Now it's time to let her go," his best friend said, his voice filled with finality.

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[morose-melodies]

Welcome back! So happy to see that you are doing well ☺️

Since requests are open, I was wondering if you could write some headcanons/drabbles about how the Genshin men (including Pierro, Capitano, and Dottore my fave) would react if their darling, who was pregnant with their child, tried to run away? Saying "I refuse to raise my child with a monster like you!"

what it takes to love | various yandere! fatui harbingers x pregnant reader

content warning: mentions of blood, idk if childe's being sorta trad or not but I'll still put it here. I'm also a bit rusty so they might be ooc...

a/n: definitely not a drabble... I hope you enjoy!

CAPITANO

with the newfound knowledge that you were gone, the captain was on the way home.

there was not a lick of hesitation, no, he dropped everything. your leaving meant you were alone on a cold night while pregnant. who knew what trouble you could be in?

the captain knew you couldn't travel far-- it was too dark, too cold. all that surrounded the manor was woods and woods. he made sure to wear his thickest coat and brought with him his weapon in case you were in true danger. he saw your footprints in the snow, it looked as if you were stumbling about in the cold.

Oh, poor you.

this isn't how things should be-- you, running about at night without him there to protect you. you should be in the safety of his arms, in the walls of his manor.

he wouldn't try to further frighten you, that must be why you ran, no? he would place his coat over you and take you home with him.

following those footprints, it seemed you tumbled and fell a couple of times. you couldn't possibly be in a good state. (y/n)... where could you be ?

"(y/n)," the captain called out. he saw you, your cowering form, pressed against a tree, using one of his coats you'd taken with you to warm yourself, "oh, (y/n)."removing his coat, he set it over your shoulders and lifted you into his arms, expecting you to comply.

"no! st-stop. let me go, i... I'm fine!" you'd argue, though, it seemed you were in no state to.

"(y/n), no," the captain shook his head, trying to keep a gentle hold on you even as you squirmed and argued, "you're tired- you don't understand what you're saying. I'll be taking you home."

"i know what I'm saying," you shook your head, pressing your hand against his mask, attempting to push him away, "i don't want to be with you or near you! l-let go of me!"

the cold must be getting to you, capitano reasoned, who knows how long you've been out here? you're clearly not in your right mind. pressing a hand against your cheek, he felt your skin, he felt how cold it was. you needed to be home and in bed. "hush, you're delirious. (y/n), stop fighting me, i need to bring you home. you're harming yourself *and* our child."

"let go of me! stop- i refuse to raise my child with a monster like you!"

his hold on you loosened-- he was stunned, caught off guard. a monster? his hand gripped at the fabric of the coat over your shoulders, "is that truly what you think of me?"

you hated him? that was why you ran? "(y/n)," the captain repeated, his grip on the coat lessened, "answer me. is that what you think of me?"

do you understand how that makes him feel?

it's not as if you always thought this of him, this was a recent development. after getting pregnant, he was... more protective. he took extreme measures to keep you home, to "keep you safe."

it drove you mad.

so, when you woke up one morning to see that all of the house staff, including your maid that you truly loved, had been replaced-- you knew you had to leave.

"yes, yeah..." you nodded, a stray tear running down your cheek, "so, let me down- let me go," you demanded once more, squirming, trying to get away from him once more.

capitano raised his hand and wiped away that stray tear, "(y/n), do not say that-- not to me, not to my face," his hand dropped back to his side. he needed you home with him, now.

and that need was stronger than any other feeling he had at this very moment.

holding you against his chest, trying to keep you as warm as possible as he worked on getting you home.

he needed you back home; whatever happened afterward could happen, as long as you were home with him.

DOTTORE

how things seemed, you enjoy causing dottore problems.

if you weren't knocking his vials over, you were barging in on his experiments, and if not that, you'd rejected him when he expressed even the slightest bit of affection.

it was always something with you.

and now, on his day off-- on the one day when he had nothing to do and nothing planned, you ran away, or at least you tried to.

dottore refused to let his good day be ruined by something so trivial, so he took precautions.

knowing you, you would do something so he prepared for just about anything you could do.

just about anything... well, he didn't expect you, a pregnant woman, to attempt to jump out of your window to get away from him.

he heard the tell-tale shatter of glass and just knew it was you-- it was always you. he begrudgingly got up from where he was resting and went to your room, where you were halfway out of your window, bloodied from the broken glass digging into your skin.

dottore sighed, "goodness, (y/n)," dottore was approaching you and you could hear him coming closer, so, you tried to lunge yourself out of the window, to get away from him-- to protect your future.

pressing your hands against the sides of the window, you pushed yourself forward, slipping out of the window, but, of course, dottore caught you by the ankle just as you were falling.

you wasted not even a second before you began screaming and swearing at him, trying to squirm out of his grip, "let me go! let go-" you kicked at him as he dragged you back into the room.

once you were in, lying on the glass-covered floor, somewhat numb to the pain, dottore stood somewhere near your side, his arms crossed over his chest, looking down at you. he was disappointed, but why?

"don't... lie in the glass. (y/n)..." he sighed once more, and reached out, grabbing your arm and helping you stand.

it was then that he assessed your injuries, asking that you stand still as he looked at your bloodied arms and torso area-- it was painfully cut from the glass.

*you must be in pain, no?* dottore mused, straightening his back as he looked at the thin layer of blood coated on his fingertip, "I'll forget about this-- I'll even forgive you for... attempting this," dottore assured you, holding your arm as he began to guide you out of your room, "I'll forgive you, i just ask that you never attempt such a thing again."

but... you refused, tugging your arm back and out of his hold, "Don't touch me-- i don't *need* your forgiveness!"

you'd never hated him quite as much as you did after finding out that dottore had no problem with experimenting on children that the knave gave him.

it made you sick. you couldn't allow your child to grow up with a man like him, "i *refuse* to raise my child with a monster like you."

dottore's eyebrow twitched, though you couldn't see it. he thought he knew what to expect from you, but, you always surprise him, "a monster? can you genuinely call me such a thing after all I've done for you?"

when you nodded, dottore stifled his third sigh and brought you along with him, despite all of your arguing and fighting. "(y/n), you're hurt. let me clean those wounds of yours. since you cannot accept my forgiveness and let this go, we'll have a talk tomorrow."

dottore cared for you, of course, he did.

he realized just how much he cared for you-- just how much he needed you when he felt his heart drop at the sight of you trying to leave.

he understood just then how much he'd hate it if you left him.

a/n: lowkey ooc...

PIERRO

escape was impossible.

with guards at your door, and all around pierro's manor, you couldn't escape.

but, when pierro found out that you had still tried to leave him-- attempting to walk right out the front door, dressed as if you had places to be, he was displeased.

he was immediately informed of this.

so, as you tried to open the gate that was locked, pierro approached you, "(y/n), where exactly are you going?" he asked, stopping to stand right behind you, "it's cold, and you aren't dressed for the weathers condition... ah, aren't you supposed to inform me of where it is you want to go before going?"

pierro knew exactly what you were doing but for you, he could play dumb. it was better than making you feel cornered and possibly upsetting you further.

he could change, he wasn't above it. after all, there weren't many things he wouldn't do for you.

he held his hand out for you, hoping you'd take it, hoping you wouldn't give him trouble-- not now, not when he was in such a generous mood.

you didn't take his hand, no, you weren't even looking at him as you said, "I'd like to go... I want to stay with my family."

your family? pierro felt his eyes twitch-- he wouldn't allow himself to be seen as the jealous type, no, pierro instead nodded his head slowly, "why don't we go back in? it's terribly cold tonight, is it not?" he'd tried to change the subject, try to ease you back into the house without an argument.

"no, uh... I've got a ride. i just need the gate to open."

pierro saw and understood what you were feeling perfectly-- desperation. "we can talk about this tomorrow, no? it's late, (y/n), im not particularly in the mood to be standing out in the cold while you talk about leaving me."

"pierro- im leaving... I'll send you letters and I-I'll even come to visit," you offered, taking a step towards the gate, looking at the lock, that stopped you from leaving.

"no, no, (y/n), you aren't leaving, at any point. how ever you feel, I'm sure you'd feel better if you spoke to me about how you feel-"

"i want to leave because i dont want to raise my child with you."

first, you cut him off, and now you say this? "you're being very rude-- now, we're going back inside. do not argue with me," pierro took your hand into his and began to guide you back toward the manor.

"no! let go, stop it!" you would drag your feet, crying and arguing, "I don't want to be here! not with you! st-stop it! let me go!"

it saddened him, truly, to hear you cry and beg so desperately, but those words rolled off of him. he didn't care at the moment; he just needed to get you back into the manor, and whatever happened after didn't matter.

he'd have a talk with the guards too.

"You're so evil! let me go-! let me be!" you'd argued, dragging your feet, attempting to make things harder for him, "i refuse to have a child with a monster like you!!"

you couldn't imagine raising a child in this environment, in the fatui...

pierro stilled, glancing back at you, his grip on your hand tightened-- then immediately loosened, "you're testing my patience, (y/n). please, just come inside with me. we can talk about this inside."

because there were fewer places to run inside.

(y/n), you truly are a work of art, pierro mused, as he dragged you along, well, he attempted to be gentle but you were making it hard for him.

but since it was you, he'd do anything, even tolerate your rude behavior, since you were his woman and his alone.

CHILDE

when childe found you, whenever that was, there was no telling what could happen or what he'd do. he loved you, that much was obvious but he was an impulsive guy.

maybe he'd take off his coat and put it over you-- you'd like that, wouldn't you? or maybe, just maybe, he'd hug you out in the blistering cold until he felt good enough to release you... which would be near to never.

or maybe he'd react in anger. again, he loved you, it was inconsiderate, rude even, to leave him while you were pregnant with his child. didn't you promise to start a family with you? (he misheard you. you said you didn't want to start a family with him.)

he wouldn't let his anger get the best of him, no. he was better than that-- he was raised better than that. yeah, he was raised better than that.

childe raised his hand and wiped at the tip of his nose, he was cold. he couldn't image how you'd be feeling right now.

that was all more the reason to find you as soon as possible!

he took this journey alone. he thought it would be somewhat intimate if he found you on his own, it would be manly too-- you'd think he's the type of man you want to raise children with... that's what he thought anyway.

you got a bit of a head start on him, he had just gotten back to snezhnaya when he was informed that you had run off a few hours before he'd gotten back.

oh, he was worried. real worried.

he forgot everything he was planning to do-- eat, change into something warmer, brush his hair, those sorts of things, he forgot all about. you were more important!

before running off, you were staying with his family. it was probably easy for you to leave, just say you're going for a walk and never come back, since his family didn't exactly know all about your relationship with him and how he sorta smuggled you into snezhnaya.

he got home and followed after your footprints for a good while. the sun was setting, and it was only getting colder; at this point, you were probably regretting leaving him and wished to be at home in his arms-- that was just an assumption, of course.

when he finally saw you, in a thin dress and coat, stumbling up a snowy hill, he smiled. (y/n)! its (y/n)!

oh, he felt so relieved to see you!

running past all the bushes and trees in his way, he ran straight into you, hugging you tightly from behind, his hands on your pregnant belly.

"are you hurt anywhere?" that was the first question he asked as he turned you to face him, patting his hands over your arms, checking for any signs of blood on your or your clothes.

he leaned in once again, hugging you after being sure you weren't injured, and his second question, asked in a muffled voice by your ear, was, "What'd ya go running off for?"

"because I don't want to have a child with you."

huh, it seemed childe couldn't hear all of a sudden, as he released you from the hug and slipped his coat off, tossing it over your shoulders, "bet you're cold, huh? now, what'd you say?"

"i do not want to have a child with you."

again, it went through one ear and out the other for childe. he wasn't hearing things right, he couldn't be, could he? "huh? what was that?" his eyebrows raised, and he leaned closer, gesturing for you to repeat yourself once more.

now annoyed, you leaned closer, saying, "I'm leaving you because i dont want to have a child with someone like you."

he straightened his posture, backing away with a less-than-happy expression-- he looked defeated. so, he was hearing things right, huh...

"we gotta see it through... y'know that, right?" still holding your hand, his grip loosened. childe had never felt quite so... sad? angry? betrayed? before.

"no, we don't. I want to go back home, I'll see it through with my famil-"

"we are family," quickly cutting you off, he corrected you, his fingers tensed around your hand, "I'm your family-- everyone back at home is your family. we're your family so why are you trying to leave us?"

he bit at his bottom lip as a means of stopping it from quivering but you could see the tears in his eyes.

"are you kidding me? you forced me to be here with you! you think i came here willingly or someth-"

"you promised me we'd make a family together! you said it yourself, so, why're you acting like you hate me?" his hold on your hand tightened, and he leaned closer to you.

he was desperate-- he didn't want to hear this! not from you, not from anyone he loved, but especially not from you because he didn't just love you; he loved you.

attempting to tug your hand away from him, you shook your head, "I never said that, ever. let go of me- i wouldn't... i refuse to raise my child with someone like you!"

everything he thought knew and believed came crumbling down around him, " oh, well... i don't care," he replied-- he had abandoned his feelings for you, for now at least, he just needed to get you home without harming you, "I love you and... I guess, sometimes that's all that matters."

you could figure it out later-- you could learn to love him later but he loved you now and couldn't let you go so easily.

[landogalore]

PUPPY LOVE

charles leclerc x wife fem! reader

MASTERLIST

WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY, SMUT and fluff: unprotected sex (PLS WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT GUYS), oral sex (female), creampie, hickeys, charles has a breeding kink

word count: 1.4k

—————————————————————————

‘I’m back, Charles!’ The girl yelled as she entered their apartment, arriving back home to rest after an exhausting shift at work.

‘Charles!’ She repeated once again, not hearing the usual kind welcoming she normally receives, leaving her confused.

‘Charles?’ The voice that originally sounded cheerful shifted towards a more worried tone, his cars were still parked downstairs and he hadn’t previously mentioned leaving their home, which made her wonder what had happened. Was he okay? Was he just asleep? Thousands of thoughts and ideas about his whereabouts overwhelmed her mind, her behaviour becoming more frantic, just hoping her lover was somewhere safe.

Beginning her search, she wandered into the living room, but there was no snoring Charles sleeping on the sofa, but mere dereliction, nobody in sight, except the slight sound emitting from the television. Tilting her head towards the screen, there was a group of dogs skipping freely in the fields, the sweetening video sending a heartwarming smile on her face. The girl wished she could frolic in the peaceful nature, with no cares in the world.

There was still no sight of her husband as she moved towards the hallway, containing the staircase to the higher floor. However, small patches of mud trailed upwards, shaped almost similarly to a smudged footprint, leaving the girl perplexed.

‘Huh.’ Her eyebrows furrowed, staring at the patches on the floor, what had Charles been up to this time?

Now climbing to the second floor, she continued to follow the prints, leading her towards the main bedroom, the door left just an inch open. Cautiously, the girl twisted the doorknob and peered her head to scan the room, greeted with her boyfriend, snoring loud enough the street below could possibly hear. Although that wasn’t the only thing she noticed. He was also fatherly caressing something, his head tilted downwards to cover it and keep it warm.

Stepping closer towards the bed and her husband, the girl gently placed her body onto the bed, shuffling up to closer to the sleeping monegasque, his originally siren-like snoring softening to a cute murmur.

‘Mon amour, is that you?’ Charles whispered, awakening from his slumber, his voice raspy from exhaustion but still somehow caring and affectionate, hearing him speak sending flutters to the girl’s heart.

‘It’s me, Charlie.’ She giggled, her hands tenderly wrapped against his waist, still able to feel his toned muscles underneath his shirt. ‘And who’s this with you, my replacement?’ The girl signalled towards the mystery he was cuddling.

‘He’s a present, for you.’ His hands uncovered it to reveal an adorable bundle of golden fur, flopping ears and two sleeping eyes. ‘I knew how much you would talk about getting one.’ Her husband turned to face his wife, a heartwarming smile prominent on her face.

‘Oh Cha, you didn’t have to!’ She gasped, her fingertips moving to caress his cheek, tears of joy almost starting to form.

‘No I did have to chérie, because i love you.’ Charles replied, planting a loving kiss on her forehead, her cheeks flustering a scarlet shade.‘You’ve got to give him a name now.’ He pointed to the dog now safely resting in his bed adjacent to their own.

‘Give me some time to think.’ She asked, unsure on what to call the new addition to their family.

‘How about I give you some time to think, ma femme.’ Her husband suggested, the once gentle grin transforming into a troublesome smirk.

‘And how are you going to help, mon mari?’ The girl wondered, worried about the antics he was about to create, but desperately desiring the answer.

‘By doing this.’ He winked before shuffling downwards, towards her skirt. ‘We don’t need to keep this on now you’re home do we?’ He chuckled, slipping the clothing down her legs and onto the floor. ‘Putain, you are stunning’ The man complimented, sending swarms of butterflies to the girl. ‘May I?’ He slightly tugged at her panties, which she simply nodded in response.

‘Please, Charlie’ She insisted, watching as he pulled down her underwear, leaving the bottom half of her body now fully bare.

‘Merde, tu es délicieuse, mon coeur’ He serenaded, mesmerised by his wife’s sheer beauty, believing she was sculpted perfectly by God himself. Eagerly, he began to glide his tongue through her walls, the sudden sensation sending shivers down her spine, her back slightly lifting upwards from the mattress.

‘Fuck..’ She cursed, sparks of electricity travelling straight to her pussy, the designated target Charles was attacking, making sure to taste every aspect of her. ‘Please, Charlie’ she pleaded, knots in her stomach forming, desperate to be released.

‘Tsk, tsk mon amour.’ He scolded, ‘Not just yet.’ She could feel his warm breath tickling her hole, not helping her current situation in any way. ‘I haven’t even fucked you yet.’ He smirked, although unable to see the expression, she could easily imagine the movement of his lips curling. ‘Do you want me to?’

‘Yes!’ The wife whined, her body craving to feel his dick buried inside her, sending lustful sensations travelling through all of her muscles.

‘Yes to what, chérie?’ The husband teased, noticing the shifting of her body, the way her thighs were practically shaking, begging to close together to relieve some sort of tension, but unable to due to Charles’ strong grip.

‘Please, fuck me Cha.’ she cried, as Charles began to move his head away from her soaked area, his hands moving towards his boxers, swiftly removing them to reveal his already hard cock.

‘Got to get this bra off first though, then I’m all yours, belle’ He began to unclip the fabric, gently swiping the material off of her breasts, joining the rest of their clothes on a messy pile on the floor. ‘I am one lucky man.’ His eyes widened as she was now presented fully naked.

‘And I’m one lucky woman too.’ The girl giggled, watching as Charles began to shuffle on top of her, his hands gripping the bedsheets and his dick lining up with her aching hole.

‘Get ready chérie’ He warned, before connecting himself to her, carefully slipping his cock inside, the pleasantly full feeling causing the girl to escape a high-pitched moan. ‘Gonna make you feel so good, you deserve it.’ The man praised, beginning to thrust his hips at a reasonable pace.

‘Fuck, Charlie!’ She shrieked, her thighs trembling as his penis slipped in and out of her in a repeated motion. ‘You’re so big!’

‘You fit me so perfectly, princesse.’ He continued to increase the speed, his mouth now closing onto her exposed neck, leaving trails of kisses, sucking at the skin in a caring manner, but with enough force to leave marks that will stay for a period of time.

‘Charles.’ The girl groans, the same knots once again forming in the pit of her stomach, screaming to be released from the anticipation. ‘I can’t hold on much longer.’

‘Neither, mon coeur.’ He agreed, struggling to not let his body relax into her ‘You gonna let me fill you up?’ He chuckled, ‘So eager to have another addition to the family?’

‘Fuck, yes Charlie please.’ She wailed, noticeably out of breath and he pushes her hips forward, allowing the knots to release, her fluids flowing out onto her husband’s dick, himself following quickly after, spilling out into her, filling his wife up just like how she requested.

Exhaustion consumed the couple, desperate to grasp for air after the heated session, Charles rolling from on top of her to flopping onto the mattress. ‘You’d look tres impressionant with a bump, a little version of us inside.’ He imagined, the goddess labelled his wife becoming even more gorgeous pregnant.

‘I’d love to start a family with you, Cha.’ She laughed, peering over the bed to see the puppy’s eyes begin to creep open, a lovable chesnut shade. ‘I think someone’s woken up.’ The girl pointed towards the lively dog, wagging his tail joyfully as he beamed upon the cuddling couple.

Energetically, the golden ball of fur jumped upwards onto the bed where the two lay, crawling up to position himself between the two, curling up once again onto the space on the pillow, the action sending both of them gleaming, a heartwarming smile spread across their faces as they realised the start of their family had just begun.

‘Leo. His name is Leo.’

—————————————————————————

HOPE YOU ENJOYED! <3

[liketolovexx]

Okay I have a request for Regulus if you’re up for it… how about the reader having to wear him down because he believes he’s unlovable etc etc. but once she does, he’s the biggest softie, always gentle and caring and seeking her presence?? only if you feel like writing it though!!! Kisses

Hii! It’s taking me a while to get round to my requests but everyone feel free to send them in to keep me busy!! Kisses to u too my darling 🫶🫶

I actually turned out really loving this. It turned out a little angstier than I anticipated, though. Sorry.

Unlovable. ~R.A.B

{in which regulus believes no one could ever love him, but you’re here to prove otherwise.}

Regulus had been distant lately.

Avoiding you, which wasn’t normal. Not for you, at least. You’d been best friends, and the moment you started dating, it’s almost like something happened inside of regulus. He wasn’t around you much anymore. It hurt, honestly. To love somebody who hides from you. It took you a trip to the gryffindor common room, begging on your knees, incredibly puppy-eyes (that apparently all of the Black family is weak for, because it made Sirius melt too), a new chocolate bar for Remus and literally just a tight hug for James to get the marauders to lend you the map.

There it was. A pair of dark footprints teetering at the top of the astronomy tower, where you and your boyfriend often snook after hours, labelled ‘Regulus Black’ in elegant italics, much like his own trained penmanship.

The map was on the floor. You could vaguely hear James yelling at you not to drop it while you rushed to the tower. Lead curled around your heart, weighing heavily in your chest as you climbed the steep, eroded steps up to Regulus. You were thinking the worst. Your regulus was going to jump. Moonlight flooded your vision as you emerged, only to see a black silhouette stood precariously at the edge of the balcony. Your eyes widened and your stomach dropped as your very worst fears were reinforced.

“regulus?”

He spun around swiftly, his usual perfect black curls unruly and tousled out of the place by the cold wind. His eyes were wild and panicked and dark bags shadowed shadowed them. he was paler than usual, the white of his skin closely mimicking the pearly hue of the moon that ignited you both. You lifted your arms slowly, as if trying to calm a beast.

“Regulus, it’s me, it’s only me, sweetheart, calm down.”

“What do you want?”

“I want to know why you’ve been ignoring me.”

You said, keeping your tone calm as to not startle him. “Can you please come here? You’re scaring me.” Something changed in his eyes when you spoke that phrase, as if scaring you was out of the picture. He’d never want you to be scared of him, because he was meant to protect you. His rosy lip trembles, and at first you thought it was from the harsh chill of the night air, until it was accompanied by furrowed eyebrows, glossy eyes and him stumbling towards you with his arms outstretched like a child.

“Oh, Reg…” you hummed, cupping the back of his head with your hand as you tucked his face into your neck. His back started to heave with sobs so you used your other hand to rub soothing circles across his shoulders. “It’s so cold out here, you’re gonna-“

“Why do you fucking love me?” Regulus growled, his grip on you tightening almost aggressively.

“What?” You whisper, fear seeping into your veins. But in your heart, you knew regulus would never hurt you. He raised his head, staring deep into your eyes, face glazed in a mixture of frustration and despair.

“Why do you love me?”

You were silent. Why did you love regulus? Well, he was kind. Not to everyone, but to those he trusted, those he loved. He was incredibly loyal. He was a sensitive soul, underneath his facade. He was soft. He was beautiful. He was yours. But you couldn’t find the words to even begin to express the reasons behind your adoration for him.

“Regulus, you are… everything.”

His face changed. He looked almost bewildered, confused.

“What? I’m not anything. I’m from a family of fucking blood supremacists, I’m-“

You kissed him. He shut up in seconds when your lips pressed to his. “You’re fucking perfect. And you’re not them, Regulus. You’re perfect.” You told him sternly, gripping his shoulders hard, but gently. He broke down again, his face scrunching up as the tears began to fall. You pulled him in again. “No… no, I don’t deserve this. I- I don’t.” You shushed him, stroking his hair. “You deserve everything. And I love you. You deserve love most of all, Reggie.”

A week or so later…

Regulus was curled into your side in the slytherin common room. No one was there except him, Barty, and Evan. He’d fallen asleep with his head on your chest, and you didn’t have the heart to wake him to go to class, so Evan and Barty jumped at the chance to skip with you two. Though, Barty couldn’t refrain from making dramatic gagging noises whilst gripping Evan’s shoulder and lurching forwards every time regulus nuzzled closer to you in his sleep. He teased, sure, but really, he knew his friend had never been happier. He’d never seen regulus with so much sparkle in his eye. He’d never seen regulus so lovesick.

He’d never seen regulus so touchy with somebody.

He’d never seen him trust so deeply. love so unconditionally.

~~~

Please don’t copy any of my work!!

[asa-do-your-thing]

Faileas

18+ MINORS DNI Cregan Stark x F!Reader 5.6k Warnings: SMUT, blowjob, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mentions forced marriage, dom / sub dynamics as always no proofreading no nothing

Hi guys! you wished for some Cregan action, here you go, some wintery woodsy and very sexy scenes for you <3

The eerie silence of the snow-covered forest was suddenly shattered by a loud thump, jolting you out of your sleep. The sound echoed through the thick trees, sending shivers down your spine. You knew that snow never fell silently, but this was no gentle snowfall.

Someone or something had disturbed the peacefulness of the night.

Hastily pulling on your fur-lined boots and throwing on your warm cape, you grabbed your trusty ax, ready to defend yourself against any unwelcome visitors. The only light came from the full moon, casting elongated shadows across the ground. Your heart raced as you crept towards the door, unsure of what awaited you outside in the frigid darkness. Whoever was lurking around at this hour was most likely not a friendly soul.

Breathing deeply, you pushed open the door just a sliver to peer outside. The sight that met your eyes was nothing short of awe-inspiring. The snow lay pristine and untouched, beautifully illuminated by the silver glow of the moon. Each tree stood tall and heavy under its snowy blanket, the crystals shimmering with infinite variations of blue and silver under the celestial light.

Suddenly, a flicker of movement caught your attention. It was far off in the distance but distinct against the untouched snowscape. Fear surged through your veins, but courage stemmed from your noble upbringing spurred you on. As you stepped out into the winter night, the crisp air stung your face and the snow crunched under your boots. Your fingers tightened around the handle of your ax, its familiar weight offering some measure of comfort.

As you trudged deeper into the forest, it became clear that you were not alone. Footprints imprinted on the previously untouched surface told a tale of stealth and intention. A creature of some sort had indeed passed this way, disturbing the tranquility of your sanctuary.

You had sought solace in this barren place to offer your prayers. A giant Weirwood tree stood beside your modest dwelling, and you made offerings to it every day, seeking guidance. Your parents, who ruled House Knott, were determined to marry you off to an elderly Lord from the Stormlands. Desperate for someone to intervene, anyone at all, you turned to this sacred spot for help, but as it seemed, you were not entirely safe here.

Through gaps in the trees where moonlight penetrated, you saw it; a figure, cloaked in darkness paused momentarily at a clearing futher down. Its silhouette was hunched over as if peering at something in the snow.

Silently, like a wolf stalking its prey, you advanced cautiously towards it. Your heart pounded in your chest like a war drum as each breath became shallow and measured under stress. As you moved closer, an unexpected gust of wind swept through the trees making them groan under their icy load.

Spooked by the sudden noise, you gripped your axe tighter and lifted it up high, expecting the figure - a man in a cloak with fur over his shoulders - to jump up and attack you as soon as he thought you had let your guard down. He was most likely a poacher, trying to hunt down a skinny rabbit or a winter fowl.

“Poaching will get you hanged. Know that you are on the lands of House Knott and I shall bring you to the Lord if I catch you stealing from us,” you said calmly, your ax hanging over the man’s head. “And if you wish to attack me, I’ll lob your head off clean.”

The man quickly turned to face you, his eyes wide with surprise. He rose slowly, hands lifted in a placating manner. The man was tall, towering over you, and the moonlight revealed a wild shock of black hair and stormy grey eyes that seemed to carry a certain depth of experience and wisdom. There was something captivating about the way he looked at you, an intensity coupled with an unexpected warmth that was unlike any stranger you've encountered before.

“Easy there, m’lady,” he said, his voice resonating in the windless night. He cocked a small grin, his teeth white against his rugged features. His northern accent only added to his charm. “I’m no poacher, nor do I seek to harm you or rob your lands. I’m merely looking for shelter.”

His cloak billowed as he moved away from you towards a loneset tree nearby. In the dim light, you noticed a direwolf sigil stitched onto his cloak - the sigil of House Stark. An unexpected chill ran down your spine as realization hit.

"Lord Cregan Stark?" You questioned aloud, disbelief tinting your voice.

The man - Lord Stark - turned back to face you, giving a small nod as he surrendered jokingly with a chuckle. “Indeed," he confirmed in amusement, "Didn’t mean to startle you.”

A thousand questions danced in your mind as your grip on the axe loosened but did not let go completely. The Warden of the North standing before you in your family’s sanctuary in the Woods was something straight out of legends and ballads sung by minstrels at feasts.

“I… I can give you shelter, my Lord. Though it is only a small hut… It surely won’t live up to your expectations,” You mumbled and courtsied, trying to suppress the blush that formed on your cheeks.

Your mother has told you about Lord Stark, but seeing him there, in the moonlight, made you doubt her words. He was strikingly handsome, not at all boorish and violent like she had told you.

“Though, my Lord, if I may be so bold, I would’ve appreciated it greatly if you would have just knocked. I was prepared to hack you to pieces.”

Lord Cregan eyed you over. “Your hut? Are you Lady Knott? I thought she was an old hag, sitting and scheming around in her Keep. You’re decidedly younger and prettier.”

Approaching you slowly, he laid his large, gloved hand on the hilt of his sword. “If you aren’t Lady Knott, then what are you doing here, in the Knott’s Weirwood grove?”

You narrowed your eyes, straightening your posture as you met his gaze. "I am Lady Knott...the younger one," you clarified, feeling the corners of your mouth quirk up in a small smile.

"You might be confusing me with my mother." You watched as the hint of surprise crossed his features before transforming into an appreciative chuckle.

"Well then, that would explain the confusion," Lord Cregan replied, leaning against the tree he had been approaching earlier. He looked at you with renewed interest. "And as for knocking, I thought no one would be occupying this place at this hour. A slight miscalculation on my part."

Your smile widened as you stepped forward, crossing your arms over your chest. "Next time, my lord, take the time to knock. Or better yet, send a raven ahead of time."

His laughter echoed through the grove, a rich and deep sound that resonated within you. "Noted, Lady Knott."

Looking back at him composedly, you added: "But if you're still suspicious of me, Lord Stark, then by all means go back into the forest and sleep there..."

Lord Cregan raised an eyebrow at you. His eyes danced with a playful gleam under the moon's glow. There was a moment of tense silence before he let out another hearty laugh that vibrated through the grove.

"I doubt anyone would be foolish enough to turn away from such generous hospitality,” he answered warmly.

His words filled you with warmth even against the cold wind. He was not what your mother had made him out to be; he was far from it.

"Speaking of hospitality, my lord, would you care to step inside the hut?" you asked, tilting your head towards the entrance of the small dwelling. "I promise I won't hack you to pieces. At least, not tonight."

Once more, his laughter echoed through the trees, creating a symphony with the rustling leaves and nocturnal sounds.

"Lead the way, Lady Knott," Lord Cregan instructed, his eyes sparkling with curiosity as he followed you into the hut. Inside was an array of family relics; old books, carefully crafted tapestries depicting ancient tales from their lands, and one prominent weirwood table where you had been preparing for your moonlit prayers.

You began to explain yourself, your hands nervously fidgeting as you gestured around the sacred space. "I come here often,” you admitted. "A little strange perhaps, for a young noble lady to find solace in such a... rudimentary place. But I find it peaceful."

Lord Cregan's eyes roamed over your treasured sanctum with evident respect. "And tonight?" he asked, glancing back at you as he leaned against one of your stack of books.

A sigh escaped your lips as you braced yourself to confide in this stranger who felt oddly trustworthy. "Tonight... Tonight I came here to pray against my marriage," your voice wavered toward the end.

His brows furrowed curiously and he inclined his head slightly sideways in question. "Against?"

"My parents have arranged my marriage," you clarified hastily. An uneasy laugh escaped your lips as tried to lighten up your confession. "To a sixty year old widower. A Lord from the Stormlands. Lord Symon Dondarrion, they said.”

Shrugging quickly, you put another piece of wood into the hearth and watched the embers reddening. Why were you rambling so? Lord Stark probably did not care.

His silence was unsettling. After a moment that felt like an eternity, he finally broke it with a soft, "I see." His gaze softened, empathy seeping through his glacial eyes as he watched the dancing flames of the hearth reflect in yours.

“And what does the young Lady wish for?" Lord Cregan asked, taking hesitant steps towards you. His sturdy voice echoed in the tight confines of the hut.

Despite his status as a powerful lord, he appeared genuinely interested. You drew in a shaky breath before managing to voice your deepest desire out loud. "To stay in the North," you answered honestly. "To stay where I have grown up, not having to go to… well, almost Dorne. And not having to marry an old man…."

A thoughtful silence fell between you both. Outside, the wind had picked up and was causing the leaves to rustle and twigs to snap under its force. Stark's gaze drifted towards one of your family small tapestries, where large, rugged old men sat next to sour-faced women, wolves and bears at their feet.

"In Winterfell," he began turning his steady gaze back to you, “we have a saying: ‘The lone wolf dies but the pack survives’. At times, alliances made are for survival not just for one individual, but for their kin and their people."

He paused for a moment and sighed deeply, rubbing the back of his head with his gloved hand, before taking it off. The warmth was catching up to him, it seemed. The seriousness faded from his face and he offered you a small smile. "But it doesn't mean that it has to be so bleak.”

The warm fires of the hearth flickered across his rugged features as he stepped closer to you. You could feel your heart drumming louder in your chest as he neared.

"For now, you’re here in the North. Isn’t that… good?”, he said, seemingly trying to cheer you up.

You felt your face flush with embarrassment as you stumbled out of your sodden boots and removed your drenched cloak. It was only then that you realized the inappropriateness of your attire for hosting the esteemed Warden of the North. The topic of your impending marriage also felt uncomfortable to discuss with him.

"Um, yes...I suppose so," you stammered, at a loss for words.

"But...that's not really important right now." Your awkwardness only seemed to grow in his intimidating presence. “If I may be so bold, what were you doing here, north of the Wolfswood, without any guards?”

The corners of Lord Cregan's mouth twitched ever so slightly, as if he was amused by your audacious question. He stood from the stack of books and began pacing the hut, each step measured and silent. "You have a keen sense for observation, Lady Knott," he began, the moonlight streaming through the window to highlight his stern profile.

He paused, leaning against the old ironwood table, his fingers gently brushing over a worn out book that lay there. "In all honesty," he admitted, not looking directly at you, but at the memorabilia scattered across the space. "I'm here on kind of...a pilgrimage."

"A pilgrimage?" you echoed, brows furrowing in confusion. You weren't sure what you expected, but that was certainly not it.

"Yes," he answered simply, before turning to face you properly. His eyes glowed with a certain intensity that made your heart flutter. "In my early youth, I often wandered these woods; it gave me a sense of calm that nothing else could."

"Even though Winterfell is known for its peace and tranquility?" you couldn’t help but jest lightly.

A deep chuckle echoed through the room as Lord Cregan nodded in amusement. "Even then," he confirmed. "Sometimes even the peaceful walls of Winterfell can feel suffocating."

You couldn't help but relate to his confession; even amongst your own family and kinfolk, there were times when you felt bereft of inner peace. It was one of the reasons why you often sought refuge in this secluded hut.

Lord Cregan sought your gaze again, the playful light replaced with a slightly darker one, although not completely sinister. “I think that the Gods have answed both of our prayers, though.”

Sitting down onto your bed, you offered him your chair and gestured towards a large bottle of wine, wordlessly inviting him to pour himself some, if he wished to. “My Lord?”, you asked, not quite knowing what he meant, cocking your head to the side.

Sitting down with a sly smile, he shrugged. “Well, I’m looking for a wife that is not a simpering flower. You’re looking for a strong, young, northern Lord. Or am I wrong, Lady Knott?”

His words hung in the air, creating an electric tension that you could physically feel. The preposterousness of his proposition was too absurd to believe, and yet his confident demeanor suggested he was entirely serious. You hesitated, eyeing him cautiously as if expecting him to erupt into a fit of laughter, revealing it to be a cruel jest. But the man before you remained grave and composed.

The silence stretched out between you like a yawning chasm. His question echoed in your mind, circling around like an insistent buzz. A desperate urge bubbled within you to provide a witty response, anything to alleviate the suffocating heaviness, but words failed to formulate.

Your mouth went dry as dust and for a moment, you worried that you had lost the ability to speak. All you could manage was a weak whisper of "What?" that surely Lord Cregan didn't even hear.

To your surprise, he didn't repeat himself or elaborate on his shocking proposal. Instead, he simply leaned back into his chair and studied you intently as he took a slow sip of the wine you offered him earlier.

A long moment passed before he finally broke the silence, a faint smile gracing his lips. "It's late," he stated simply, standing up from his chair and setting down his cup. You blinked at him in surprise, suddenly realizing how true his words were. The hourglass on your desk indicated that it was way past the hour of the bat.

Lord Cregan made his way towards you, his every movement graceful and measured. He paused, sliding his cloak off, quickly and gently holding your chin in his large hands, making you look up at him. “Tell me if you oppose this. Say the words and I will leave.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as his gaze bore into yours. The fiery intensity, the sheer command in his eyes was insurmountable. His words, though spoken softly, echoed thunderously in your ears. You had always considered yourself a strong-willed woman, not easily swayed by men and their games. But at this moment, looking up at him, you felt a strange fluttering sensation inside you.

The silence extended between you both like a spectral hand reaching out. His statement hung in the chilled air of the room, as if it were suspended on invisible threads. Your heart pounded in the hollow of your chest like a war drum echoing in an empty battlefield.

"Oppose what?" you found yourself asking, your voice barely above a whisper. You held his gaze, your mind racing to comprehend his proposal. Was he suggesting... matrimony? Surely not. The mere suggestion was preposterous.

Lord Cregan Stark of Winterfell would never consider someone like you for a wife... would he?

He held your gaze steadily, yet there was a deep gentleness in his eyes that seemed to melt away the icy chill of the room. "Our union," he said simply, his voice quiet yet full of gravity. You blinked up at him incredulously.

Although his words were laced with an undeniable seriousness, you couldn't help but chuckle nervously at the absurdity of it all. "You are jesting." Your words came out as more of a statement than a question.

But the Warden of the North merely shook his head slightly, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Are you suggesting that I am a fool?”

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head. “Of course not! It’s just… how? How will you tell my parents? What will you tell Lord Dondarrion if he would protest?”

“Your father, Lord Knott, has sworn his allegiance to me. He will do as he is told. And Dondarrion… Do you really think that an old Stormlord will ever wish to come up to the North to fight me?”, he said confidently.

The certainty in Lord Cregan's voice was enough to squelch any remaining doubts swimming in your mind. His magnetic confidence had a way of drawing you in, making you question the foundations of your own thoughts and beliefs.

Still, you couldn't help but let out a dry laugh, leaning back against the bedpost with a hint of incredulity in your eyes.

“Cocksure and audacious. I suppose these are traits that I should expect from the Lord of Winterfell,” you commented wryly, crossing your arms over your chest. A soft light danced in his eyes at your words as he rested his hand on the wooden table, leaning towards you ever so slightly.

"And yet, here we are," he began, his tone mild as he absorbed the weight of your words. "In this secluded little hut, far away from prying eyes and the judgmental gaze of society."

He paused slightly, his gaze softening with an emotion that was too complex to decipher. "Should we not take this opportunity and consider what happiness we could find in one another?"

Your breath hitched at his question, a dull ache spreading through your chest as his words sunk in. The thought of marrying Lord Cregan Stark had never crossed your mind until this moment; it was simply a dream too far-fetched and distant for someone like you to entertain.

And yet, here he was - proposing just that.

A mischievous smile then took over his face, as if he had realized something amusing. “Though I must admit,” he said, moving closer to you till his face was just inches away from yours. “If I wouldn’t have known of your predicament, I wouldn’t have minded your company either. You’re a pretty one, Lady Knott.”

His eyes twinkled in the flickering candlelight, his usually stern facial features smoothed and made softer by the intimate atmosphere. The warmth that radiated from him was infectious, causing an involuntary blush to creep up your cheeks.

“Lady Knott, you're blushing,” he observed, a triumphant smirk etched on his face as he leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. His gaze playfully inspected your flustered form before he quickly masked his amused expression with a serious one. “I believe I have chased away all your doubts?”

The faintest hint of uncertainty still lingered within you, yet the way Lord Cregan looked at you made it seem like everything was possible. You nodded at him, mustering a small smile. “I suppose you did.”

He gave you a curt nod in response before pushing himself from his chair, a determined gleam in his wolfish eyes. “Then we waste no more time.”

Tension filled the air as he took your hand, guiding you out of the hut and into the dense underbrush. Despite being bundled in cloaks which you had hastily thrown on, both of you shivered from the cold winds that whipped around you. You led Cregan through the towering forest, feeling his steady and confident stride on the snow-covered terrain. It gave you strength knowing he trusted you blindly, following your lead without question. The howling northern wind only added to the intensity of the moment.

After what felt like an eternity of walking, you stopped abruptly in front of a gigantic Weirwood tree; its bark white as snow and leaves blood-red. There was an air of solemnity around it that commanded respect and awe.

“We are here,” you said simply, turning to look up at him with shaking hands reaching for his. “Are you sure?”

The wind whistled hauntingly through the trees, as if nature herself bore witness to this tremendous decision. Cregan Stark returned your shaky grip and looked deep into your eyes. His gaze was dark and stormy, an echo of the northern lands he led. Yet beneath that cold exterior was a layer of profound certainty, an unwavering resolve that was comforting in its strength.

"More sure than I've ever been," he finally said, his voice carrying the weight of the moment. He turned towards the old Weirwood tree, a symbol of his heritage and upbringing. “May the Old Gods bear witness to our oath.”

With your hands still wrapped in each other's, Cregan led you to the base of the ancient tree. You paused in awe at its size and majesty, feeling both insignificant and profoundly special at the same time. The Weirwood's face seemed to stir with an ancient wisdom as if acknowledging your presence.

Taking a deep breath, Cregan started speaking in earnest. “Before the gods, I declare my intent to wed Lady Knott,” his voice echoed through the silent forest, every word carving itself into existence as it lingered in the air.

He then looked at you, his gaze warm yet intense. "Do you willingly accept this union, Lady Knott? If so, speak your vows before the Weirwood."

For a moment there was silence, you gulped down the lump in your throat before speaking up softly yet firmly, “I do accept this union.” You took a step closer to him, hand slipping out of his to rest on his chest over his heart. “Do you willingly accept this union, Lord Stark?”

A silence fell over the eerie forest, the air seeming to hold its breath as if the trees themselves awaited his answer. Cregan Stark studied your face, a mix of love and solemnity in his gaze. He placed his hand over yours, his heart thudding steadily beneath your touch.

"Yes," he finally replied. His voice was a hushed whisper that nonetheless echoed through the silence, sending flocks of distant birds into flight. "I accept this union willingly." His hand tightened around yours. "With all my heart, Lady Knott."

The Weirwood seemed to shiver in response; its leaves rustling softly against the backdrop of the still night. His vow hung potent in the air, mingling with the soft rustling of leaves and echoing in the distance until it seemed to become one with the heartbeat of the very forest.

Humbled by his words and bearing witness to this union, you felt something in you stir. It was an intoxicating sensation, a heady mix of fear and excitement that made your heart pound in your chest like a war drum.

You both knelt before the Weirwood then, dipping your heads in reverence to the Old Gods. Shivering from more than just the frigid cold as snowflakes kissed your cheeks while they fell delicately from above. “May our lives entwine as tightly as our hands are now,” Cregan said softly, squeezing your fingers gently.

“May we grow old together under their watchful eyes,” you added, holding Cregan’s gaze with a bright smile on your face. The warmth radiating between you two belied the biting cold of winter.

He pulled you up, brushing the powdery snow off your backside. With an impish grin, he hoisted you into his arms and you couldn't help but blush.

"I'm your husband now, my dear. Let's save the 'Lord' title for when you are bouncing on my cock." He planted a playful kiss on your forehead before strutting back to the hut. It was clear he couldn't wait to fulfill his marital duties, making you blush and giggle at his eagerness.

With the Weirwood's milky bark glistening under the moonlight as a silent witness to your secret union, you clung onto Cregan as he carried you back to the hut. Your heart pounded loudly in your chest, every beat echoing the promises of love and devotion you both had made under the ancient tree.

Warm light spilled from the narrow slit of a window, illuminating the path leading to your shared domicile. The wind whipped frosty kisses against your cheeks, but entwined securely in Cregan's arms, you were in a cocoon of warmth that dulled the bite of winter.

He pushed open the door with his foot and set you down gently on the thick fur rug next to the smoldering hearth. His eyes danced devilishly over your body as he shrugged off his cloak, allowing it to fall carelessly onto the floor. He then proceeded to help you out of yours, his fingers lingering on areas he promised himself he would explore later.

While his hands were busy undressing you, his mouth claimed yours in an intense battle of dominance. You responded eagerly, matching his fervor and intensity. His mouth tasted like fire and mulled wine, a heady combination that sent shivers down your spine.

His hands found their way up your body, exploring every inch until they landed on your breasts. He kneaded them gently through your dress, eliciting a small gasp from you. The sound only served to spur him on as he moved swiftly and purposefully, undoing the lacing of your dress before sliding it down around your feet.

You stood naked before him, feeling both vulnerable and powerful as you watched him admiring you. “Having any doubts?”, you asked cheekily, enjoying his rapt attention more than a proper Lady should have.

“Doubts? Ha! Never. I shall thank the Gods every day henceforth for making us meet,” Cregan mumbled huskily as he pulled his clothes off, desperate to be rid of them as soon as he could. “Sit on the bed and open your legs for me. I want to see you… All of you.”

You blushed immensely and did as you were told. When you saw Cregan standing in front of you, just like the Gods had made made him, you couldn’t help but blush. You had never seen a man that made you feel the way he did - everything from his muscular shoulders to his hairy chest down to his big, throbbing member made you go crazy. Was this a dream? It had to be.

“You are stunning,” he whispered reverently as he joined you on the bed. His hands traced over your hips, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he moved upwards to cup your breasts. He teased your nipples lightly before parting your folds with his other hand.

“Cregan,” you moaned as his fingers found their target, sending sparks shooting straight to your core. His digit slid across your wetness before dipping inside, and you couldn’t help but arch your back in response.

“So wet for me already," he rasped, a smirk playing on his lips. “I knew you were a naughty girl from the first moment I saw you.” The teasing continued as he angled his hips, pressing the head of his cock against your cheek, before gently guiding it towards your moistened lips. “Do you want to prove me right, my pretty little wife?”

"Cregan, I… yes,” you mumbled senselessly, gently letting him enter your mouth as he continued stroking your pearl, though as soon as you let your tongue glide around his tips, his movements started becoming more and more erratic.

“Gods, that feels good,” he groaned. Encouraged by his reaction, you continued your ministrations, sucking him deeper into your mouth as he thrust in and out.

It wasn’t long before your moans mingled with his own, creating a symphony of wanton lust and desire that echoed off the walls of the hut. He pulled away abruptly with a groan. “No more," he panted heavily. "I won't last much longer like this."

With one smooth move, he flipped you over onto your stomach, spreading your legs wide apart. You felt him nudge against your entrance, hot breaths fanning over your chest, sending shivers down your spine. “Are you ready for me?”

“I… I think so, Yes…,” you mumbled, shaking in anticipation.

“Wait… Are you still a maiden?” Cregan asked incredulously, gently lowering himself next to you, kissing you and holding you close to him so that you would not get cold. Not being able to do anything else than to nod, you blushed and closed your eyes as you felt his arms wrapping around you and lifting you onto him.

“Oh… I, ah…”, you muttered and blushed as you saw this large, handsome man lying underneath you and grinning up at you.

“Hush, you needn’t say anything. Just do whatever feels good for you. I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered and laid his hands onto your hips.

Your heart was racing as you felt Cregan's strong, calloused hands slip you onto him, giving you the control over the situation. Blushing, as you felt the heat of his skin against your own, you braced yourself for the slight pain that would come, yet breathed it out before sinking onto his cock with a small moan, your cheeks heating up even more.

The bed dipped under your combined weight as he grasped your waist and thrust gently upward, pushing himself further inside. Your body reacted instinctively, latching onto him with every inch until he's buried to the hilt inside you.

“Good girl… Fuck…” Cregan mumbled and gently held you down, gazing up at you with incredulous eyes.

You tried to focus on something other than the sensation, but it was impossible. His muscled, hairy chest rose and fell with each ragged breath beneath you while his hands roamed down your back—smooth skin meeting soft curves—and grasping your ass cheeks firmly. He held you there with one hand while the other slid between your legs, pushing against that sensitive spot between them that made your toes curl just from the touch.

“Oh G-gods…”, was all you managed to stutter out as you felt yourself tightening around him.

You let out a tiny moan as you began to move, rocking your hips gently back and forth as he groaned and shivered underneath you. Each thrust sent wave after wave of pleasure through every nerve ending in your body, making it impossible not to squirm. His cock was long and thick inside you, filling you completely as you took control of the pace. As he raised himself up on his elbows and took one of your breasts, gently pinching your nipple, you squealed and felt your release washing over you, barely able to hold yourself over him.

“Just like that, my girl… You’re perfect…”, Cregan mumbled as he gently guided you under him, kissing you with great fervour as he repositioned himself, gently pressing your thighs down onto your stomach, lifting your feet onto his broad shoulders.

Before you could wonder what he was doing, he pushed himself inside you, making you moan loudly. This angle felt even better than before and you felt giddy at him looming over you, fucking up into you as if you were a dirty harlot and it made you tighten around him even more.

“Cregan, my Lord, I… ah…”

“Shh…” He silenced you with a hungry kiss, grinding his hips against yours in a primal rhythm. The air was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin and your moans as he continued pounding into you, each thrust harder than the last. “You're so fucking tight, I can't...”

His words spurred you on, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him to go even faster and harder. He obliged, his cock brushing against your insides in all the right places. It didn't take long for the sensations to build up again, but this time it was more intense than before - like a ball of fire deep within your belly that grew bigger and bigger until you couldn't take it anymore.

“Cregan, I… I can’t...”

“That's it, my girl… let it go,” he growled as he thrust one last time, filling you with his hot seed, making your orgasm explode inside of you like a supernova of pure bliss. Your screams echoed through the hut as you shook uncontrollably, both gasping for air as your heartbeats slowed down.

“Well done...”, he panted out. “I knew you'd be... perfect. My Lady Stark.”

[vanserrasswife]

Please, Stay

Part 2

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel returns from his mission and you confront him about him leaving you a week prior.

Word count:1702

One week later

It’s a cold night, the fire roaring in the corner of the living room not doing much to protect against the harsh cold. I shiver as I pull the blankets closer around me, wishing he was here. If he was here I wouldn’t have needed all of these blankets, we could have been in bed together long ago. The warmth of his body shielding me from the cold.

My eyes flutter shut again before I force them open, the words on the page blurring. I slam the book closed, looking out of the window into the dark. How late is he going to be? I let out a long breath and rest my cheek against my hand. If I stare into the night for too long I can almost imagine him there, just watching me. Waiting for me to realise he’s there and run out to greet him.

Not this time. This time he can come to me. My heart aches slightly at the memory of the fight a week ago. If you could even call it a fight, it was just me begging him to stay and him leaving as always. This time I’ll speak to him about it, I won’t just brush it under the rug.

My eyes shut again and I let sleep take me away, maybe he’ll be back by the time I wake up. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll wake up to Azriel cradling me in his arms and apologising, telling me that he’ll stay. That he won’t be leaving again for a while. That he’s mine for a while and I’m his.

————————————————————————

Sunlight pours in through the window and I hiss, rubbing at my eyes as I adjust to the light of late morning. I stretch my legs and sigh, my eyes eagerly scan the room for a hint of him. A muddy footprint, a pair of boots by the door, a coat slung over the back of a chair, a lone shadow. Nothing. Nothing except for a piece of paper, lying on the kitchen counter.

My hand trembles slightly as I pick up the paper and unfold it. The sight of my mate’s neat handwriting and the faint scent of him coming off of the letter, bringing a smile to my face. A smile that's quickly wiped from my features. Two more days. He’s going to be gone for two more days. The tears return, the ache deep inside me becoming stronger.

I’m going to be alone for another two days, a half laugh, half sob chokes its way out of me and I frown as I storm off to mine and Azriel’s shared room. I fling the wardrobe doors open, hinges creaking as I start to throw clothes into a bag. I move around the house in a similar manner, grabbing necessities, enough to sustain me but not to alarm Azriel as soon as he gets back.

This is the last time. I throw the packed bag into the back of my side of the wardrobe. He has one chance. One more chance to fix this. To stay with me. Or I’m gone.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

I glance up from my book as the front door swings open and I hear boots being wiped on the doormat. My heart skips a beat as I listen intently to the sounds of my mate taking off all of his work gear, knife holsters and weapons being left by the door to be put away later.

I take a deep breath, schooling my smiling face into a neutral one as I remember the conversation yet to be had. My stomach drops and my heart beats faster as my mate’s towering form walks through the doorway and he sits himself down on the couch next to me.

Shadows dart out to weave through my fingers as Azriel reaches over to gently take my book from my hands. He places it down on the couch, the other side of him and gently cups my jaw guiding me to look at him. Tears begin to well in my eyes at the gentle touch, at the love contained in it.

Azriel shushes me, promising me that everything is ok and he gently brushes away a tear before pulling me into him. Into his embrace, his warmth, his comfort. Azriel holds me silently, letting me release the tears I had been holding for the past week. I sniffle, the tears slowing as I pull away from his shoulder, out of his embrace. A hand stays brushing tears off of my cheeks, the other rubbing circles into my hip.

“Angel, are you ok?” I let out a shaky breath, my eyes focusing on the shadows weaving through my fingers. Azriel’s hand gently grabs my chin, pulling my head up to look at his. Deep hazel eyes meeting my own. I shake my head softly and pull out of his grip, moving further away from him. I need a clear mind for this conversation, I need to put some space between us.

Azriel doesn’t try to move closer to me as I start my rant, the words I had been holding in for a week all spilling out at once. “I’m upset Az, I thought that you could stay for a while and then you couldn’t and I-'' The words fall steadily out of my mouth and Azriel’s shoulders sink slightly, he curls in on himself slightly as if he was just now realising the extent of how upset I had been at his inability to stay with me.

“And I know that it's your job and that.” I stop for a breather as Azriel looks into my eyes for the first time since I had started my rant. “I know that you have to do your job and that you have to do whatever the High Lord says,” my voice is calmer now and Azriel is still staring straight at me, “but I- I just wish that you could stay for longer than a handful of days at a time.” My shoulders slump and I let out a long breath as Azriel starts speaking.

“Baby, It’s my job. I have to do it, even if it means I have to be away from you.” Another sob wracks its way through my chest and comes out my mouth accompanied by a laugh. Of all the ways I thought this conversation would go, I knew it would be this way. His work is more important than me. I knew that and I still held on to the hope that I would be his priority, more important than his job. But I’m not.

I take a deep breath, I need to calm down before the conversation continues. I need a break, maybe some fresh air. I could go for a walk and come back to this in an hour or two. If Azriel will even still be here. I try to push the thought away, but its engraved itself in the front of my mind. Oh gods. What if I leave and when I come back and he’s left again. I need to finish the conversation now.

“Your job means more to you than I do.” I cringe as I say the words out loud, but don’t find myself apologising, I can’t find it in me to apologise for saying it. Saying the thought that had been nagging at me for days now. Azriel winces and I know my words have hit something deep within him. Have upset him, maybe now he’ll know how I felt when he left.

“Angel. My job- it doesn’t-” I meet his eyes, silver lining them. The light reflects off of the watery tracks drawn across his cheeks and I fight every urge to go to him and comfort him. To tell him that everything will be ok, when I don’t know if it will be.

Azriel moves to stand in front of me, his hands gently cupping my face. A look of desperation taints his features and he shakes slightly. “I’m so sorry, bunny, I never want to make you feel like that. I’m so so sorry and I-” he blows out a breath, dropping to his knees before me. Hands encircling my waist he presses kisses to my clothed stomach. “Az, I-”

“I’ll speak to Rhys, I’ll make him send someone else. I’ll spend more time with you. I’ll do anything just please, please give me a chance.” His hands tighten around me, fisting my shirt pulling me impossibly closer to him. “Just one more chance.” He mutters over and over and over again. Like a prayer, a worship, a wish. He repeats it louder, quieter, barely a whisper, carving the words into my skin through kisses and touches.

“Az.” I whisper and he freezes, silence embracing us as his gentle words and loving touches stop. Slowly, as if I have forever, I reach down, taking Azriel’s chin between my thumb and forefinger and tilt his head up to look at me. His normally godly features look ethereal, devastatingly beautiful as he sucks in a harsh breath. Hazel eyes shining with hope. Hope for a second chance. Hope for a chance to fix this.

“One chance.” I whisper, his face lights up and he wraps his arms around my waist again, pressing fast loving kisses to any part of me he can reach. “But you have to prove it. Properly.” He nods, hair brushing against my abdomen, “And you have to stick to it. Not just for a few weeks, but forever.” His hand starts rubbing my back through my top and I suddenly wish I wasn’t wearing it. “I still don’t fully forgive you for leaving the way you did.” His eyes glaze over with a new wave of tears but he fights them down, adam's apple catching in his throat as he nods slowly. Nodding in understanding and shame. Shame at how he had made his love, his mate feel.

“I promise, my love, I’ll do whatever it takes.” I nod and run my hands through his hair, brushing out the knots and tangles. “But first,” Azriel looks up at me expectantly, “I want to speak to Rhysand.”

[adoreddestiny]

ೃ⁀➷ TAKING A HIT FOR HIM — xavier x gn!reader

a whirlwind of electricity crackles amongst the two of you. from within the dense forest, an eerie growl bellows out. xavier glances to you with narrowed brows. his stance is stiff and poised but confident.

“i’ve got your back,” you say. the pistol in your hands is warm from gunpowder sparks.

“just follow my lead,” he says softy. despite the situation around you two, his eyes are gentle and soft towards you.

a wild, belligerent dance takes place amongst the grassy undergrowth. shadows of branches stretch out on the patterned ground and footprints scatter streak across.

a growl from the trees emits, low and dangerous, and the moment xavier catches his breath, you spot a glint of red from the corner of your eye.

“watch out!” you exclaim, pushing him aside as the wanderer lunges out and pins you to the ground. its claws sink into your palms as its teeth snarl dangerously close to your nose.

within another second, it’s pushed aside and a silvery sword is plunged into its side. in an explosion of shimmery light, it evaporates and xavier is standing over it with a haunted look.

his eyes’ gossamer glint fades as he turns to you, hurrying to your side. a blossoming ache seeps into your abdomen as you look up at him.

“are you okay?” he asks. His voice is just barely above a whisper. His hands are gentle when he lifts you. He scans your wound, relief flooding his expression when he notes that it’s not fatal.

“i’ll be fine,” you say softly. he doesn’t say much for a moment, just holding you tightly on the border of words he’ll most likely never say.

“just… please don’t do that again,” he murmurs. the moonlight streaks across the branches and shines against his light hair creating a glowy halo. you don’t have a choice but to nod when he gently picks you up.

[jolapeno]

16. apple green

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter sixteen of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 3.7k chapter warnings: dad!frankie. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. FLIRTATION TO THE MAX. an: this chapter made me beam from start to finish. like my face hurts.

prev chapter | series masterlist

key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics

It’s long, your exhale. Stretching out slow and full, cheeks still tingling with the lingering ache of laughter as you gaze at the horizon.

Just where the sun dips; its final rays painting the sky in lavender and rose. You're joined by a gentle, warm breeze whispering through the air, carrying the salty scent of the sea and the soft hum of waves caressing the shore's golden sand.

The air is cooler now under the encroaching dusk, as the tide steals the footprints, making them vanish.

And it’s perfection. All of it.

A moment you wish you could pause and live, exactly like this, for a handful of hours.

The sound of flip-flops meeting soles is what eventually ruins it.

It pulls your glance over your shoulder, watching his approach—shades shielding his eyes, hair loose in slightly longer curls, it almost dry from your earlier fun in the water.

Then you see his smirk. The one which grows as he nears, knowing what you’re thinking, even if you try to hide it. Because if you had gone to grab pizzas, you’d be face down in the sand—food ruined, embarrassment smothering over your cheeks. But, he carries it one-handed like it’s nothing. A bottle of soda under his arm and a plastic bag dangling from his wrist, as you shift on the blanket that’s still warm from the sun, arms reaching up to help.

“Hey, Butterscotch.”

“Hey, Mi lluviosa.”

You don't even fight how you beam at your nickname's new variation. The one that had slipped out when he'd turned his alarm off, eyes all closed with your face buried into his neck.

The jingle of his car keys sounds as he throws them to the edge of the blanket, watching him join you as the scent of melted cheese, tomato and toppings greet your nose before you even open the box.

“Smells so good.”

He utters a soft agreement as your knee abuts his; periodically glancing at him as you grab a slice, chewing with a smile as he wrestles with his toppings and strands of cheese from tangling in his beard.

By the time you’re both full, the chill of the evening air is making you shiver, when you gently slot the cardboard lids back into place. Tenderly, as you watch another wave rise and crash against the beach, your palms tenderly brush up and down your arms.

He notices—or must do. Moving onto his knees to dig around the duffel you’d both brought—a jacket pulled out, before sliding it around your shoulders, coming to sit behind you. Legs on either side as the scent of him joins you.

Toes wiggling in the sand, his hands sliding over your legs, you turn. “Would you rather be a jellyfish or a starfish?”

Exhaling a groan, your back comes to rest on his chest. Eased there, guided. Your ankle accidentally nudges one of the half-empty pizza boxes in your movements—a thing you hope remains sand-free from when you get back to his and decide you wish to nibble on a little more.

Blowing out a puff of air, it tickles against your ear as his arms come around you. “Jellyfish.”

“Is it because they glow in the dark?”

Laughing, kissing the side of your head. “No. But that is a good reason.”

“You want to sting people, don’t you?”

Sliding your hand around the back of his neck, fingers scratching at his hair, smiling, biting down on your lip as he presses another kiss.

“Maybe.”

“Deviant.”

Softly blowing against your ear, drawing shapes along his scalp as he whispers, you love it.

And you do.

Fuck you do.

Do you think I need to reconsider jeans and a black tee for what we’re getting up to today?

No, you’ll be fine. I’m putting up some shelves is all.

Does this mean you’re going to tuck a little pencil behind your ear?

Do you like the idea of that?

Might do.

I’m beginning to worry you’re with me for my hobbies and not me.

How about you stop looking so hot when you do your hobbies?

I’ll try. It’s hard to turn off.

HA HA HA.

HA.

You're there, in a stranger's home, for all of ten minutes before you realise that you’re not needed. Not that Frankie says anything.

Only confirming it when you ask, “You sure you don't need me to hold this?” Voice-breaking the quiet hum of the electric drill he’s holding.

Carefully re-positioning one of the wooden shelves against the wall, his brow furrows in concentration, a single dark curl falling over his forehead as he glances from the step-ladder, eyes nothing short of warm and twinkling despite the overcast light. “I've got it, but your company makes it easier,” he replies, tone nothing short of affectionate, sweet, truthful.

“Francisco Morales, did you want me here as eye candy?”

He buries his answer with the drill as you wander over to the window smirking, seeing that the sky is still a thick blanket of grey, clouds heavy with the threat of rain. Even without the window open, you know the air is cool, likely damp, carrying a hint of petrichor as you turn on your heels, watching from your new position.

You don’t suppress the small smile that plays on your lips—something comforting about the sight of him so focused, so intent on getting everything just right.

“Could you just pass that for me?”

Smirking, you quickly move over to pick up what he’s gesturing at, turning it over in your hand. “This?”

“Please.”

Biting your lip, grinning. “What do I get for it?”

“The knowledge I’d be done earlier.”

Tilting your head from side to side, you scrunch your face—almost wanting to twirl the tool.

“What if I wish that you'd do me yourself, Morales?”

Pausing, the wood in his hand lowers down the wall as he turns his head, staring, mouth falling open before he eventually rests the plank against the wall. Slowly coming down the steps, across the plastic-covered floor, it all scrunching under his boots. “That what you want?”

His hands slide around your waist, palms flat, dragging along the fabric that covers your skin, rippling fire out across your body as you curl in, arch, ghosting your mouth over his.

“We can’t fuck in this person’s house, Frankie.”

Groaning, low, deep in the back of his throat, you smile—mirroring the one he traces across yours. “Remind me why?”

“You make me messy.”

Grunting, pressing it to your neck. “Yeah?”

Nodding, biting your lip, pulling his face up by your palms on his cheeks, mouth ghosting over his. “Really messy.”

Inhaling, you feel him agree. Mouth meeting yours, before you ease his nose to your lips, pressing a kiss. “Finish drilling, Morales. Then we can go home and you can drill me.”

He mumbles something in Spanish under his breath.

Guess how my morning has been?

Wonderful? Full of coffee and people asking for tips on how to twist a screw in.

No, not everyone is you. Harold has asked me three times when he’s next seeing you.

Oh yeah, I should really return his call for our second date.

I know you’re joking, but ouch.

Don’t worry, Francisco. He’s just a side piece. You’re the main. I want to get lunch, do you want me to bring you some and then you can pee around me so he knows?

Please. He keeps asking if you like diamonds.

Tell him I’m not mad at a diamond.

Shooting a wink at Harry, he lifts his chest up from his leaned position on the counter. Head dipping, fingers sliding across his lips as though they’re a zip before tapping his nose.

That familiar scent greets you just as graciously. All fresh-cut wood, spilt paint and lemon disinfectant, as well as Harold's aftershave. The one change—the biggest—is the missing crackle of the radio, you had found a compact, newer one a few weeks back, placing it on the counter with a big red bow and a card for Harry.

Bag swinging in your fingers, it’s a hunt to find him. Peering down aisles, eventually spotting him crouched—cargo trousers doing their utmost to remain stitched across his thighs.

You’re grateful he wears an apron that covers his groin. Half-fearful of the eye contact you’d give the area in what he’s currently wearing.

Digging your hand into the bag, and retrieving the top plastic carton, you do a little wiggle down the aisle with it.

“What’s this?”

Shrugging, stopping just before him as he stands. “Cake?”

Placing his clipboard down, narrowing his eyes as he takes it, turning it over.

“Butterscotch—that’s the flavour.”

Scrunching his face, he sighs. “I… I don’t know if I like it, baby.”

“Well, more for me.”

Smiling, pressing a kiss to your cheek, he motions to peer in the bag. “You like it?”

“Well, I like you.”

“Not sure it’ll taste like me.”

Tongue in your cheek, looking him up and down as he straightens, you wait a beat, and then another, before adding, “Shame. Guess I’ll have to keep eating you then.”

“Menace.”

Moving close, lips almost touching his, you whisper the same words he said to you only a day or two ago, you love it. A low whine leaves his lips, stifling it against your mouth, a crooked finger under your chin, making kissing a little easier.

“Wanna eat in the office?” he asks.

“I was thinking we could eat as you cut wood. I love sawdust seasoning.”

Pinching your side, not able to stop the giggle, he turns you on the spot, leading you back down the aisle you’d come down. “Go in, I’ll be a moment—just gonna tell Harold that I’m going on break.”

Nodding, twirling on the spot, you wink. “Tell him I love him.”

His palm manages to catch you on your ass as you roar with laughter.

Butterscotch Morales.

I’ve been first named.

Did you put flowers on my car?

Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t.

You lured me there to be romantic?

Well, it is very hard to be romantic when you’re at my house.

I can go home early if you want.

Don’t you fucking dare.

Noted.

I also think you’re doing just fine in the romantic department. For one, they’re gorgeous. And the deep clean you gave me in the shower this morning still has my thighs shaking.

I don’t think you know how good you look with soap suds on your skin.

I have an idea now.

You fancy anything particular for dinner tonight?

Can you be on the menu?

I think it can be arranged for dessert.

Okay. Then tacos?

Double helping for me then.

Francisco!

You’re smirking I can feel it from here.

You know before you open your eyes what day it is. A mixed blend of emotions that flood you as you wake to the thick scent of freshly brewed coffee, breakfast—maybe eggs, you can’t be sure.

Heart both full and heavy as it coaxes you from your sleep, your lashes flutter, eyes blinking as you stretch your arm out across his dark bedsheets. You hate that you can feel the warmth fading. Dismay flutters in your chest, as you begin to fight the urge to roll face down into his sheets and glue yourself to his mattress.

“Morning, baby,” he whispers, interrupting, eyes finding him in the doorway, leaning, head resting against his bicep, a slither of his stomach on show as his top pulls up. “I’m making us breakfast.”

“You didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to,” he replies, palm patting against his thigh. “If you want a shower, you have time.”

“Telling me I smell?”

Tongue sliding over the front of his teeth, he smiles—mischievously. “Maybe I just want you to smell like my soap for when you go home.”

Home you think. A tightness in your chest all but inflicted by the word. Four letters. Barely anything. Yet, you have to bite down on the inside of your cheek when he kisses your forehead and heads back out of the room.

It bubbles as you glance around the room—his room—taking in the cosy armchair with your jacket laid over it, the photograph of you and him surrounded by ones of Luca, Frankie and Luca or his friends.

Then, you hear him singing. The sound makes your heart throb at the same time as it brings a smile to your face as you head to his bathroom.

You find that the only benefit to showering is wrapping yourself in his cosy robe before you make your way to the living room.

Frankie lounges on the sofa, hand patting the spot beside him. You eagerly curl up next to him, nestling your head against his chest as his arm wraps around you, the other hand resting on your knee, thumb tracing soothing circles.

The tray of breakfast sits on the coffee table. You reach for a piece of toast, nibbling as you settle in. After a moment, you taste it—the eggs cooked just how you like, the toast perfect, just the way you love it. Of course, he has.

Frankie watches you with a tender expression, his fingers continuing their gentle caress on your knee.

“You excited?” you murmur between bites, “He’ll be here soon.”

Hand stroking over your leg, he swallows. “Yeah, I’ve missed him,” he replies, his voice a low, comforting rumble.

You look up at him, your heart swelling with love. “He’s going to have so many stories.”

Snorting, he runs a hand down his face. “Oh, I know.”

You smile, let the tranquillity of the moment wash over you, savouring the simple joy of being with the man you love. Curled up together. “Thank you for letting me see him before I go.”

His cheeks flush slightly, and he leans down to kiss the top of your head. “You know you don’t have to go.”

Staring at him, thumb swiping over his upper lip, removing the crumb from a slice of toast. “I should. Before I never leave.”

The tip of his tongue peeks out, swiping across his lower lip as his fingers do a dance on your leg. “That doesn’t sound half bad.”

Rolling your eyes, picking up your coffee. “You can ask me better than that, Morales.”

You don’t add that you hope he does.

Draining more of your coffee as you stare at him over the porcelain, placing it down before kissing his cheek.

“I should go pack.”

His groan follows you as you head back off to dress—folding things, shoving others into a bag and cleaner clothes back into your drawer.

It’s a try, an almost fail to not feel a sting of tears as you leave your bag on the bed.

The embers of it flickering inside of you even when you take over cleaning for him when he tells you Sam’s car is pulling up. It almost douses it, his joy, drying the mug in your hand when you peer into the living room as the front door is flown open and you see Frankie bear-hugging Luca as Sam follows in behind him.

Miss you’s turn into excitable tales. Occasionally translated by Sam as you wipe the side free from water, closing a cupboard quietly and drying your hands.

Then, when you’re about to slyly move into the room discreetly, you hear her call your name.

For a second, your head turns, but you don’t move. Just glancing, pulse pounding in your ear as you find Sam smiling, waiting, brows slightly raised as though you hadn’t made it up that she’d spoken your name.

“Can we talk… outside?”

It takes all of your restraint not to flick your eyes to Frankie.

For what, you’re not sure—reassurance, need, it all blurs into a stew inside of you as you reply, following her through the living room and out of the front door.

Nails digging into your palm, you try to breathe. In and out, out and in. But it builds.

And it builds.

And it builds.

Unable to stop the anxiety shifts into something thicker, less easy to keep down. It rises in your throat, choking you. Something similar to bile, as your head runs through a thousand things—whether you’d been too much with Luca, whether Frankie hadn’t shared that you’d be here, whether and whether and—

“I wanted to thank you,” Sam begins, smiling, hands linked together in front of herself, “Frankie… he’s a great, great dad—”

“The best,” you add. And then shame blooms over the anxiety at interrupting.

Sam, though, doesn't seem fazed. If anything unbothered. “The best. I’m very lucky to co-parent with him. But—”

Your stomach knots. Tightens.

A ball swelling inside of you as it becomes harder to breathe, to take full ones that fill you with air and rational thinking.

“I know he didn’t help make all those things.”

Oh, you think.

Shoulders unlodging from your ears, sliding down to their normal place.

“You must have spent hours on them,” she continues, a soft line in her forehead appearing as her face lightly scrunched, “All of them. The t-shirt? The candle? The card—the card, was so, so nice. It was so thoughtful. I can’t… I am not ashamed to admit I cried my fucking eyes out.”

Shifting your weight, a smile breaking out, “It was all Luca’s idea. I just wanted—”

“I imagine some of it was, but not all of it.”

You blink. It’s that or let your eyes fill up too. Seeing her staring, watching, with nothing but gratefulness on her face.

“I’m… I’m glad he has you,” Sam says quickly, almost hurriedly. “Luca. And Frankie.”

Her hands come around her waist before relaxing at her side, lips rolling, looking as nervously as you did moments ago.

“Thank you, for helping him with the gifts,” she continues.

Swallowing, you nod. “Anytime—if that’s okay? I… I don’t want to be anything but Rainy to him.”

Smiling, she inhales. “I know.”

“Good.”

A beat happens, the two of you finding yourselves admiring the other when you hear Luca’s laugh echo out of the house.

“So, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what is it with Rainy?”

Laughing, you press your hand to your face, watching her smile, waiting—patiently. “It’s a stupid joke, Frankie’s doing.”

Sam raises her brows, and stares in waiting, gesturing for you to continue.

“Okay, well—”

The next time it rains, can you kiss me in it?

Baby I’ll kiss you whatever the weather. Am I allowed to ask why?

It’s romantic, isn’t it?

Are you watching a movie?

Maybe.

And we haven’t kissed in the rain. We’ve kissed nearly everywhere else.

Well, I’d hate not to have kissed you everywhere, baby.

What’s happening in the movie?

Lots of declarations.

Ah. Lots of when we first met, I wasn’t looking for someone, I was running from it. But, you really wanted to try and build something, and before I knew it, I was falling.

That kind of thing yes.

I miss you.

I miss you too, baby. The bed feels strange without you asking me random questions.

I think watching this was a bad idea.

Answering his call, you don't pause the movie—just turn the volume down. Curling further into your couch as you tug the blanket up your neck, bringing his voice to your ear.

“Hey.”

“Hey, baby. Is the movie making you sad?”

Nodding, you swallow back the lump in your throat. Tears springing, the ones that had already fallen.

“You choking up so much you can’t reply to me?”

Laughing, tears spluttering, you sniff, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand as you grin—half-shaking your head. “How’d you know?”

You hear rustling, imagining him in bed. In the middle of the place, the two of you have been sharing. Wondering if he can smell your perfume, whether he misses the extra warmth of your skin like you currently miss him.

“‘Cause I know you. And, you do this little sniffle you try to hide and—”

“Okay, okay,” you interrupt, hearing him laugh, it tickling down your ear, making your chest go all warm like it usually does.

Like it always does.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have put this on.”

Snorting, it’s followed by a groan. One you now know he does when he stretches, when he’s trying to loosen the tightness in his back.

“Why did you?”

Because I miss you, you almost reply. Unsure how he couldn’t know, wouldn’t. A horrid thought burst through everything, standing all determined in the wake of nothing but only joy and happiness for days. Making your heart hurt, shrink and fall somewhere along the pit of you. Because maybe he didn’t know, because he didn’t miss you.

Maybe he felt happier that he had his home to himself, his bed, his things—

“I miss you too, Rainy.”

A gasp escapes, one enriched in emotions, fresh tears falling as you pause the movie, curling up more, knees pulled up as he repeats it.

“What do you miss?”

He snorts again, but more full of tease, “Fuck, where do I even start?”

“At the beginning of the list.”

“Oh well, firstly, I miss the fact I’ve not been asked if I would rather be a cactus or a house plant.”

And you smile. It stretches out, sliding into your cheeks—for the first time since you came home to emptiness—you feel happy again, even as another tear rolls down your cheek and you ask, “Well, what would you prefer?”

Frankie laughs. It flows down the phone, somehow brightening your own home, even if he’s not inside of it. It makes you kick off the blanket, stand up, turn the television off—and the lights—and walk the lonely route to your own bed.

Half-wishing you’d taken him up on the offer of staying one more night.

NEXT CHAPTER ->

[adverbally]

You Tattered Me, You Tethered Me to You

Written for the @steddieangstyaugust prompt “Lake” | wc: 1,728 | rated: E | cw: sexual content, use of the f-slur | tags: first time, experienced eddie, internalized homophobia, steve’s sexuality crisis, hints of what could be considered subspace and sub drop, set probably in late spring 1985 | title and inspiration from “Lake Song” by The Decemberists

Come to me now, and on this station wagon window / Set the ghost of your two footprints / That they might haunt me when you’re gone / And when the light broke dawn, you were forever gone / But I remember you: you were full / You were full and sweet as honeydew

———

It’s not the first time Steve has fooled around like this, but it kinda feels like it as Eddie grinds their hips together and bites him.

They’re in the back of Eddie’s van, parked next to a shed overlooking Lover’s Lake, and Eddie’s weight is pushing him down into the pile of blankets as he sucks a hickey into Steve’s collarbone. It’s quiet outside but loud in the van between their heavy breathing and the wet noises of Eddie’s mouth on his skin.

It’s never felt like this before.

Not with Nancy or Tommy or any of those faceless hookups. They never made his blood boil in his veins, bubbling through his body like the carbonation in a glass of Coke. He didn’t have to hold onto their hair for dear life as they trailed bite marks across his chest and shoulders. They hadn’t left his dick a leaky mess inside his underwear just from kissing him.

Then Eddie’s thigh is pressing up against Steve’s cock through his pants, swallowing the moan that comes out of Steve’s mouth as he kisses him gracelessly.

It has to be something about Eddie that’s specially designed to drive Steve crazy. He just wants more.

With clumsy hands, he pulls at the hem of Eddie’s shirt, tugging it upward until Eddie gets the message and sits back on his heels to pull it off completely. The sheer confidence in his movements, the way he looks down at Steve like he knows exactly how good he looks, is almost hotter than the pale expanse of his bare torso. The sight makes Steve’s mouth go dry.

“Wow,” he says.

Eddie smiles, not the seductive smirk of a moment ago but a genuinely amused quirk of his kiss-swollen lips. “I don’t think I’ve made anyone speechless before. It’s doing wonders for my ego.”

“Yeah, well, you’re gorgeous.” Steve sits up too and rests his hands on Eddie’s hips, just above the waistband of his jeans.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Eddie’s grip is firm but gentle as he wraps a hand around the back of Steve’s neck. When he pulls him in for another kiss, it feels possessive, like he’s claiming Steve as his.

It leaves Steve lightheaded, swaying back into Eddie’s orbit when he pulls away. “Fuck,” he breathes.

“Ask me nicely and I might.” There he goes with that damn mouth again, latching onto Steve’s neck, licking a wet stripe over the two moles just below his jawline.

“Please?” Steve’s fingers drift toward the button fly of Eddie’s jeans, scratching through his happy trail to hear his sharp inhale.

Eddie doesn’t respond. Instead, he pushes Steve’s hands aside and unfastens the buttons himself before yanking the pants down his legs along with his underwear. It should be awkward considering he can’t stand upright in the van, but he’s clearly done this before.

Steve tries not to burn with jealousy at the thought of someone else touching Eddie. Of Eddie touching them back.

“Hey.” Eddie lightly smacks the side of Steve’s thigh with an open palm to get his attention. “You gonna take yours off, too?”

“Yeah, right, sorry.” Steve leans back to unzip and unbutton and shimmy the fabric past his hips. Eddie pulls him free when his boxers get twisted around his ankles.

They get distracted by kissing again. Well, Steve does and he suspects Eddie is just following his lead. But Eddie feels so fucking good pressed up against him, skin to skin, lazily rolling his hips in Steve’s lap as he licks into Steve’s mouth.

Steve can’t keep his hands still. They roam over the smooth skin of Eddie’s back, the coarse hair covering his thighs, the scars and tattoos that dot his body almost at random. He’s sweaty, too. It’s too hot in the van as it retains the warmth of the spring sun, but it just adds to the dreamlike quality of the situation.

“Have you ever done this with a guy before?” Eddie murmurs.

He’s not sure he can speak right now so Steve just shakes his head. No, clumsy handjobs with Tommy Hagan could never prepare him for this.

“Do you want to fuck me?”

Steve must look like an idiot, staring up at Eddie with his mouth open. He wants, of course he does, but he isn’t sure what. It’s like when you’re hungry but you don’t know what you want to eat.

Eddie must take his hesitation as a refusal. “Or I could fuck you,” he offers.

Oh, that’s…

His desire must show on his face because Eddie smiles. “You’re full of surprises, Harrington.” He leans over and fishes a small tube of lube out from under a pillow.

The use of his last name shouldn’t sting so much. “Call me Steve,” he tells him, hoping it doesn’t sound too much like a plea.

“Sure thing, Steve,” he agrees. Eddie climbs out of his lap and sits with his back against the wall of the van. He doesn’t need to say anything to beckon Steve over; he’s already moving, straddling Eddie’s thighs in a reversal of their previous position.

Things get a little blurry after that.

“Relax for me, Steve,” Eddie croons, rubbing slick circles around his hole so he can start opening him up.

“That’s it, Steve,” he praises when Steve starts rocking back on the fingers inside him.

“Patience, Steve,” he scolds gently as Steve whines for more.

“Okay, Steve, nice and slow,” he instructs, one hand guiding his cock and the other gripping Steve’s hip as he sinks down with a gasp.

“Fuck, baby.”

“So fucking tight.”

“Such a good boy.”

“Ah, sweetheart, ‘m not gonna last—”

Steve doesn’t want it to end. He’s warm and full and Eddie’s arms are strong around him and nobody has ever wanted him this much before and he doesn’t know if anyone ever will again. He thinks he comes, sensation arcing electric beneath his skin, and Eddie’s hips stutter, too, but Steve doesn’t stop moving, desperate to drag this out as long as he can, and then Eddie is saying—

“Jesus Christ, Steve, wait, too much,” he moans, nails digging into Steve’s thighs in an attempt to force him into stillness.

It works, but the sharp pain has the unfortunate side effect of restarting Steve’s brain. He’s not sure when it had shut off, exactly, and the sudden awareness when his senses come back online is overwhelming.

He smells the musk of sweat and sex. He hears his own gasping breaths. He feels the tackiness of come and lube between their bellies, dripping out of him when Eddie pulls out. He tastes the salt of Eddie’s sweat, the weird nothingness of spit, a little bit of blood where he must have bitten his lip. He sees the foggy window over Eddie’s head, covered in his own handprints from bracing himself on the glass, and Eddie’s concerned face in the twilight.

“Are you okay?” Eddie is frowning at him, one hand rubbing up and down Steve’s flank, almost like he’s petting him. It’s probably supposed to be comforting but it just makes Steve feel like a dog. Like some pathetic little creature, something to be pitied.

“I, um.” Fuck, Steve really doesn’t want to cry in front of Eddie, but his eyes are welling up. Where is this coming from? He had felt so good just a minute ago. Now he’s sticky and empty and cold, and he wants Eddie to fix it. To take care of him. “I think– I have to go.”

His thighs are sore when he moves and he hates that he’ll have no choice but to be reminded of this tomorrow. Steve shoves the blankets around to dig his clothes out of the mess of fabric. The sooner he’s dressed, the sooner he can get home and shower and try to forget this ever happened.

“Steve?” Eddie hasn’t moved, clearly trying to give Steve some space, but he actually sounds worried. “Did I do something wrong?”

No, Steve wants to scream, it’s me, I’m the wrong one. His stomach churns as he yanks his shirt back on, shoves his legs into his pants, stuffs his feet into his sneakers.

He startles when Eddie lays a hand on his arm. “Hey, you’re freaking me out.” His eyes are big and brown and shiny in the dim light. They feel even deeper than Lover’s Lake. Steve kind of wants to drown in them.

“I’m really sorry.” He rakes a hand through his hair. “You didn’t– I shouldn’t have done this.”

Any warmth in Eddie’s face immediately evaporates. “Seriously? This was your idea, man.”

“I know. It’s not you,” he tries to explain, even as his throat feels like it’s closing up.

“You know, being a fag isn’t contagious,” Eddie spits. “I didn’t, like, cast a spell on you to make you beg for my dick.”

Steve raises his voice. “I know!” Jesus, how is he supposed to make Eddie understand something he can’t even understand himself?

“Get out. You’re not gonna sit here and yell at me in my own van.” Eddie looks deadly serious. When Steve doesn’t move, he growls, “Get. Out.”

The unspoken threat sends Steve scrambling for the rear doors. He stumbles out into the not-quite darkness, the last hints of the setting sun providing enough light for him to see Eddie’s face twisted in fury.

“Get your drugs somewhere else. Have a nice life,” are his parting words.

Steve slams the door shut. The sound echoes across the lake, almost like it's mocking him, and silence after is even worse. He stomps down to the edge of the water, stares into the muddy shallows until his tears create ripples across the lake’s surface. Listens to Eddie’s van start up and drive away.

It’s better like this. Right? What kind of loser is he, panting after the first guy to fuck him, like a virgin in a romance novel? Like he could have any kind of future with Eddie Munson. No, this way Steve gets to keep what remains of his dignity. Eddie is the only one who’ll know how pathetic he is, and he won’t tell anyone else.

Steve stays there at the shoreline for a long time, watching the moon rise over the water and trying to forget about how right it felt when Eddie touched him.

[bitchimasnake-sss]

i had this idea for ace x reader id love to see😭 basically idk something along the lines of the reader being apart of the whitebeard pirates and ace having a crush on them/pining for them and they stop at some island to chill/celebrate or something and while partying later in the night reader tells ace he can kiss them if he catches them and after a bit of (playful) runing reader goes into the water at some beach and ace obviously cant follow bc of his devil fruit and yesh djdjjdhd idk how it would play out but lets say ace somehow ends up getting that kiss :3 you’re very much free to add to the story or change it!!

heheheh, this is so cute. i am an ACE TRUTHER FOR LIFE AAAAAAAH *rips my shirts and turns into a wolf* [i-ignore the fact that this has been a wip for about... 1.5 months now, im sorry. i will repent.]

❤️‍🔥hey! that's unfair! ft. portagas d. ace

set-up: as mentioned above by anon! playful banter, nicknames, chasing each other around. that's just part of being a crew, isn't it? okay, but what if your very attractive crewmate was running after you to kiss you? not very crew-mate-y of them, is it? warnings: NOT PROOFREAD CAUSE MY BAD, DUDE. nothing major cause i have wrote enough smut to last me a lifetime and i need a cleanse. contains playful banter/flirting, mentions of the asl brothers' past, "slut" as a joke. ace ughhh light me up. [my digital footprint goes crazy, but so does yours.] wc: 2.5k

"slut behaviour." your drawled out the words, nose scrunching up as you looked up at the man. your fingers drew patterns into the coarse sand, as the man above you barked out a laugh.

"huh?" ace's eyes widened, a boyish grin overtaking his features as the sun shone from behind him. the winds from the sea almost blew his hat off, and he put a hand on his head as he peered you down, "what did you say?"

"i'm just saying~" you shrugged, eyes squinted to make out his face under the harsh backlight, fingers still writing something into the sand.

"you're saying i'm the slut?" he plopped down next to you on the beach mat once he was done setting the beach umbrella. giving you the same unabashed grin, he popped his knuckles, "that's harsh, dude."

"i'm not the one walking around with my top off all the time!" you stuck your tongue out and ace scrunched his nose up. he was adorable. "hey, i've told you. i run hot, okay?"

he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively next, "i've always said, you can sleep with me and find out the truth."

an aggressive blush blossomed from the tip of your nose to your ears, and you instinctively pushed ace away, "is that offer only for me? or can marco uncover the truth, as well?"

his expression turned sour, eyes squinting as if he had the worst daydream a man has ever known, "tch, why would you even make me imagine that?"

"mhm." you grinned, shooing him with a flick of your nail, "now, go get me some ice-cream."

"mean." he muttered, but got up nonetheless.

you stared at the gentle waves, the scorching sun, the wet sand that changed with every little movement of the ocean. your eyes travelled to your far right where some of your crewmates drank cocktails and some of the younger ones ran around, chasing each other with faux grievances.

then, your gaze fell atop portagas d. ace.

pops ruffled his hair and the fire-fist grinned in return, talking about some nonsense that you were sure to enchant everyone who stood there. he had that effortless thing going on. he could smile and offer out his palm and the entire crew will chop off their hearts to give it to him. how pretty. i mean— er, how pretty fucking annoying!

huh?! a nauseating feeling built up in your stomach as you tried to shake down these thoughts. it was wrong, ace was just a crewmate!

a crewmate who made you laugh till you cried, someone who would come running to you with gossips, buy you souvenirs when he went to visit luffy. someone who was just a crewmate. so, you really shouldn't be thinking how he made your chest tighten or about the way his biceps flexed, or the way his eyes glinted under the sunlight or the way his smile was so—

"—here you go, princess." he shoved the orange popsicle in front of your nose and you broke out of your daze. he sat next to you under the cool shade of the beach umbrella, sucking on his own blue-colored popsicle.

"who're you calling princess?" you muttered before chomping down on the ice-lolly, "your shampoo for a year would cost half my salary if i got paid."

"mmph huh? you are so mean—" he spoke with the popsicle still in his mouth, and you flicked his forehead at how dumb he looked. he grinned and you made fun of how his pretty lips were painted a dull shade of blue.

the two of you sat there in the shade, occasionally looking over to where the crewmates played volleyball. it wasn't uncommon for the two of you to spend hours upon hours together. out of all the high ranking faction commanders, you two were the closest in age. he would often crash on your couch after a long day, and you would admire his annoying, freckled face. uh, no. what the fuck. knock it off. just a crewmate.

after a while, ace grew fidgety. fingers playing with the red beads of his necklace, mouth busy with the ice-cream stick, he asked you, "wanna play a game?"

"hm? sure." you slurped down the quickly melting ice-cream, "what is it?"

"it's called twenty questions." he balanced the small stick between his teeth, leaning back on his forearms. "luffy's navigator taught me the last time i visited them."

you hummed, "what do you do in that?"

"well, you ask twenty questions, genius." he laughed as you glared at him, and picked the ice-cream stick caught between his lips, "yeah, i figured that much out. i mean, that's it? just twenty questions."

"yeah." he nodded, eyeing the plucked wooden stick in your hands for a second before dragging his gaze up to yours. god, you were so pretty that some days ace wondered if he would go in overheating just by looking at you. probably not. but what if?

you flicked the stick away, turning towards him, "so, wanna play or what?"

turns out, ace is an absurd man. you found that out as you two were on your eighteenth question. the sun dipped below the horizon and the clouds reflected back myriad of shades, painting you and the man next to you in a thousand hues.

"huh?!" your eyes widened comically, words spluttering into a half-sob-half-laugh, "repeat that, please."

he nodded, repeating solemnly like he didn't hear himself, "i said if you had to fuck one warlord, who would it be?"

"jesus christ." your rubbed your temple, "i dunno, like mihawk? the emo thing kinda gets you going."

"tasteful choice, i agree. you think he's a vampire?" he brushed off the comment, shaking his head, "no, wait, we've seen him in the sunlight. wait, have we? anyways, your turn. ask away."

"well, i'll ask something normal." you hummed in deep thought before asking, "if you could have any devil fruit, which one would it be?"

"mine, obviously." he flashed you a cashmere smile, "somebody as hot as me must ofcourse have a hot power."

"you're cheesy as fuck," your lips puckered up as if you had something sour, "dumbass."

but marco called you both over to help set up the campfire. and so, you followed ace as you both got up to walk over to where the rest of the crew was. chatting, chugging bottles upon bottles of sake, and laughing about days long gone.

the sand got stuck between your toes, the wind blew your hair over and you could just watch awestruck as ace turned around, giving you a soft smile before tugging your wrist and running towards the crew.

"i'll fall!" you shrieked but followed him nonetheless. you would probably follow that man to the depths of hell, it seemed.

by the time you both were free, it was dark. the moon hung low, the sky lay exposed with millions of stars, the dying embers of the campfire still twinkling as ace sat down on a log next to you. the rest of the crew had either slept on each other or retired to their rooms, having drank down every inch of sake available.

"ugh," you groaned, "gotta restock in the next island."

ace laughed, and the sound was so soft. he sounded like a boy in a wrong reality, so young. "why are you so sad? didn't get any today?"

"as if i'd get any with those fuckers drowning anything that even barely resembled liquor." you grumbled, and the fiery boy could only stare at you for a second. taking in your barely illuminated form, the steady rise and fall of your chest, your eyes as you sighed and fluttered them shut, and your arms as you stretched them over your head.

you were adorable. and he was an idiot for fancying his own fucking crewmate.

he shook his head as if to gently pull himself away from staring at you too hard, and you turned to look at him strangely, "what?"

"n-nothing." the section commander muttered, choosing to look at the dying embers in front of him. blushing furiously, you chose to focus on the same welcome distraction.

you air grew thick with tension, the kind both of you got crushed under like bugs. so you cleared your throat, rubbing your palms together as you quipped up, "wanna finish that game?"

"yeah." ace mumbled, mindlessly copying your actions by running his palms against each other, "two more questions, right? you start."

mulling over his words for minute, you tipped your head back to gaze at the stars. you sighed, "if you weren't a pirate..." you paused, "then, what do you think, what kind of job would you have?"

he tipped his head back all the same, hand coming to rest a mere inches away from yours. the glowing charcoal casted a subtle glow against his toned chest, the metallic necklace shimmering against his skin. he finally spoke, "i don' know, really. just think i'll do everything to stay with my brothers. whether that's to become a thief, or to become a marine."

you slowly turned your face to look at the somber man next to you. portagas d. ace rarely got quiet. he was all high-spirits and boyish laughs, freckled nose scrunched up in mischief when he wasn't busy leading the whitebeards to victory. but whenever he got back from seeing luffy, there would be a certain gloom that clung onto his aching bones — the kind he tried to laugh away and hid behind bowls upon bowls of food.

you never understood why seeing his younger brother filled him to the brim with regret. after all, monkey d. luffy was all smiles and reckless punches, right? but one drunken night, he confessed to you about sabo. heavy words, forlorn eyes, a man racked up with guilt. no. a boy racked up with guilt over not being able to chase off death.

your fingers inched closer to his, and your pressed your soft palm against his hand. squeezing down slowly, you found yourself comforting the fire-fist without even as much as a single word.

now, the same man boy next to you cleared his throat, squeezing your soft hand right back. as he dragged his eyes from the night sky back to your face, he gave you an earnest smile, "but then, i would have never met you, and what a shame that would have been."

warmth blossomed from the tips of your fingers to the tip of your nose. what a bother. you huffed, trying to hide away anything that gave away your voracious heart, "you're so cheesy, ace."

"hah, only for you." he was all smiles. he snuck in a prolonged breath, "okay then... my turn, right? if you could join any other pirate crew which would it be?"

"aha, i know this!" you lit up, "your brother's."

"the strawhats?" ace looked genuinely surprised and you nodded, "i wanna see what kind of weirdo are you responsible for. up close."

"that's fair." he shrugged, "okay, last question. go."

"d- d'you think that some day..." you drawled on, fingers stilling against his warm skin, "that some day, we'd leave this place? retire, and do something else with our lives maybe. i don't know if i wanna still be running from marines when i'm all sagging skin and weak bones."

"do you wanna leave?" he asked softly, and you shook your head, "no. i love pops, obviously. but... like i said—"

"—you don't wanna be seventy and still with a bounty on your head?"

"maybe, yeah? if i live for that long, anyways."

"then, i suppose i would have no choice but to follow you. just promise me good food, and i'll come with." the man said it so easily, but he knew it with every inch of his heart. he would follow you to hell and back, if you ever let him.

"tch." you pulled your hand back to your chest, you palm still slightly warm from his body temperature, "what's gotten into you? stop flirting."

"okay, my last question. ready?" he spoke softly, gaze searching your face and studying the flush as you looked away from him.

portagas d. ace moved closer to you, his fingers gently taking your palm in his own slightly burnt ones, and interlocking them. he exhaled, eyes meeting yours, "if i kissed you right now, will you kill me? or will you kiss me back?"

what? your eyes instinctively moved to his pretty lips. soft, pink lips that you've daydreamed about too often in the past few days. should you lean in? or should you tease the man some more?

well, you've never been a saint, have you?

a smile tugged at your lips as you pulled at hand back to yourself again, "hm, i think i will kiss you back. but for that, you'd have to kiss me first."

and with that you took off.

"hUH?!" ace's voice shot up as you bolted away from him, and he chased after you without a second thought, "come back, oh my god."

the sand under you feet almost made you fall but you reached the sea before your crewmate could catch you. clothes growing heavy as they wetted, you moved inwards till you were submerged till your waist in the cold, oceanic water.

the water around you reflected the star-studded sky, and among them you looked like an ethereal being. divine.

"hey!" ace yelled, a small pout on his lips, "that's unfair! come back!"

you found yourself giggling, "why?" you pouted back, "come get your kiss, ace."

"ugh, aren't you troublesome?" he groaned but a grin broke out on his face as he walked towards where you stood, each step drawing you two close. when he stood barely a meter away, his feet wobbled, "if i faint, you're gonna have to carry me back princess style, understand?"

"why? marco will save you, princess. hey, don't fall!" you teased, but ace wobbled again and the smile on your lips shriveled up into a frown. you found your feet moving to him. fighting the push of waves, you reached the man and supported his figure. hands on his toned torso, eyes staring up at him, concerned. "are you okay?"

he wrapped his strong arms against you and grinned like the devil itself. you found the muscles flexing against your wet clothes, gaze trained as he stared you down. what an asshole. he was pretending.

you glared at portagas d. ace, "you cheated."

"no, i didn't." his face titled downwards expectantly, hot breath fanning your nose, "i just tried to get what was rightfully mine."

"and what's that?" you whispered up at him.

"this." his finger lifted your chin up and he pressed a soft, chaste kiss. his lips slotted against your, soft lips dancing against yours so gently. but then his grip on your chin tightened, and he pressed himself against you heavier.

hand tightening against your waist, chest flush against his and tongue passing your pretty lips. as ace pulled back, he smiled to himself. closed eyes, parted kiss-bitten lips and flushed nose and cheeks. what kind of forbidden alchemy were you? and how did he get so lucky?

"huh," you opened your eyes to catch his smile, "looks like you really do run warm."

and turns out he's not "just a crewmate" either. a day full of discoveries, it seems!

credits: @bucciniexe for the bby boy header! tagging: @help-i-lost-my-sock [i hope you genuinely like it!]; @chrollohearttags [ur tags on one of my ace fics were so funny, i had to tag you]; @tetsuskei [you told me ages ago to tag you in ace fics aaah :')] a/n: DROPPING TWO FICS IN TWO DAYS?! WHO AM I?1 omg i had so much fun writing this. don't tell anybody this, but i feel maybe my writing's block is slowly going away. yay! maybe i can upload consistently? who knows? anyways, ace has become one of my favs since i saw his greasy ass in alabasta and declared he's to be the father of my children [he's a 2d man, help].

[alatusprinz]

trivial things they do that make you fall in love all over again

genre : fluff ( modern au, committed relationships? )

characters : xiao , cyno, kaedehara kazuha , tighnari , scaramouche x f!reader

albedo takes care of you in ways you never knew you needed. your powerbank, airpods or phone is never out of battery because he charges them when you're in the shower or sleeping. he can guess what you want for dinner from the way you're texting, and often has exactly what you've been craving for before you ever told him what you wanted to eat. he restocks everything in your home before anything ever runs out. takes and edits THE BEST insta-worthy pictures of you, everyone wonders if you hired a professional now. brings you your favorite snack and/or drink every time he goes to the convenience store because he is just so smitten he can't spend a minute without thinking about you. remembers your birthday, the date of the day you two first held hands, kissed and everything, the dates are engraved into his memory and he does mini-celebrations every single year no matter how much time has passed. sometimes, he comes behind you when you're busy with work and starts brushing your hair, and maybe braid them if you'd let him. he's amazingly good at styling your hair, then when he's done, he'll kiss you on the top of your head and whisper how beautiful you are, the most breathtaking person to walk this world.

tighnari, after being with you for a while, can read you like an open book. just as you're about to leave the house, he'll remind you something you were about to forget just now. he knows when you've had a bad day from the way you close the door, so he's bringing you a cup of tea and pulling you in a gentle hug without a single word needed. he knows exactly what you're thinking, too much to the point where you two say so many words at the same time. the longer he spends time with you, the more he finds himself syncing to your mannerisms- and frankly, he loves it. when you accidentally fall asleep while waiting for him to finalize his work, he'll gently cover you with a blanket (and if you wear glasses, he'll take them off gently and put them next to you with a kiss on your forehead.) he may not verbalize it often but you have him completely wrapped around your finger, he can't go through his day without searching for your presence every corner he turns. also, he would never let you go to sleep with tears in your eyes, no. over his dead body. no matter how bad the argument would be, tighnari would make sure you two were at least on surface-level understanding before comforting and apologizing to you before going to sleep with a gentle promise of discussing it again when you're both more rational tomorrow. grows different types of flowers and names them after you. tugs them behind your ear when they grow and bloom.

kazuha spoils you without explicitly meaning it. always lets you have the aux in his car and if he's playing music, always has your new favorite songs saved in his playlist so you two can both enjoy. he carries an extra set of mittens and scarf for you in case you're cold every single time you two go out on a date in winter. brings you peeled/sliced fruit when you're working and sometimes feeds them to you if you're too busy. when he's waking you up from your nap, he kneels next to the bed and kisses your cheeks and forehead while gently whispering sweet nothings until you're awake instead of leaning over. on a snowy winter day, he'll draw a heart in front of your window by his footprints on the fresh snow and call you over to make you see the giant (kind of unshapely) heart. still opens every single door for you after years and years of being together. buys you flowers and heartfelt gifts without ever needing a reason to because you being in his life is the greatest joy he has ever experienced. and if marriage is something you want, even after marriage, kazuha will never stop calling you endearments, saying i love you every day, and take you out on a date once a week at the very least. will gladly freeze for the night if you hog the blanket accidentally, and when you fall asleep while hugging his arm, he'd adore how cute you look while sleeping and gladly ignore/forget about his arm going numb because he doesn't have the heart to move you while you're sleeping.

scaramouche's affection is so lowkey that you need to pay attention if you want to notice. he always lets you walk on the inside of the sidewalk. he covers sharp corners of the table when you lean down. he gets you that concert ticket that's sold out within seconds somehow and leaves them in one of your lecture notes for you to find out yourself ( and has one for himself too, half to annoy you and half because he secretly loves seeing how happy you look at that concert). flicks your forehead every time when you start talking bad things about yourself in attempt to soothe your insecurities. argues with you about you "stealing his hoodies/sweatshirts" all the time but it's him who leaves them in your room secretly when you aren't looking, then claim he "forgot it" just because he loves seeing you in his clothes. once fought a guy who was trying to buy the last piece of snack you liked at a convenience store and successfully brought you the snacks- you never found out what happened to the other dude. he pauses the netflix whenever you leave the room even for 2 seconds. steals your jewelry sometimes (because it reminds him of you throughout the day), and dresses so well to the point he looks better in it than you do.

xiao, if you pay enough attention, shows every second of the day how smitten he is for you already. he texts you good morning the second he wakes up, and the last one to say good night. sends you random memes and cute pictures of animals and tag you with "looks like you" or if there's a picture of a cute animal couple, sometimes with "us." if you text him "my head kinda hurts ugh", he'll leave you on read for 20 minutes and by the time you're wondering what he's doing, you'll see him knocking at your door with painkillers, homemade stew, and a slice of cake he knows you like. extremely light sleeper so when you sleep together and you can't sleep or you're having a nightmare, he wakes up immediately and comforts you, shushing your tears away and hugging you, playing with your hair until you fall asleep. every time when he's coming over to your house, he has something he knows you like (a drink from your favorite cafe, your favorite desert, book or maybe a spare hoodie of his). brings you random pretty rocks and small stuffed dolls, pretty much everything he sees and reminds him of you- he will buy and give it as a present to you. knows you have like half his closet already but doesn't have the heart to ask for his clothes back because you seem so happy wearing them. sometimes calls you at midnight and takes you for a spontaneous motorcycle ride, and take you where the night view is the prettiest. wears that promise ring you got for him 3 years ago religiously every single day. talks to you how much he loves you and how much he wishes you'll stay by his side forever when he thinks you're sleeping (ps. you're not).

cyno, while he doesn't look like it, is the biggest simp if you see through his stoic exterior. he worships the ground you walk on, is willing to do nearly anything just to see you happy and healthy. he will listen to you talk and rant about things he has no idea about for hours or days if needed- not just listen passing-by, he never takes his eyes off you, and listens to every single word with great attention. he's also a living heater so he always warms up your freezing hands and feet without a single complaint. gives the best hugs, and he smells so good too, he will always be the comfort person you needed when you had nobody else to turn to. gives you his jacket even if it's minus 30 celsius outside and INSISTS he isn't cold, even if his nose is clearly turning red. carries the shopping bags for you even if you insist he doesn't need to, he really doesn't want to make you lift anything heavy. if you two order at a restaurant and you don't like your food, he'll gladly switch with yours with no complaints. instead, he'll have a soft, adoring smile when you have another bite from his dish and your eyes sparkle in excitement when you clearly like it better than yours. if you have any scars on your body, that's where he likes to kiss you the most. and he truly thinks the scar, or your entire body and soul is the most beautiful one he's ever encountered. will watch your comfort movie/series with you thousand times over without a single complaint just to see the smile on your face. has a custom-made hoodie that has the ugliest embroidery with a print that says "i love (y/n)" unironically and wears it around the house. not afraid to kiss and cuddle you even when you're sick and try to keep him away in case he catches it but he never listens, instead cuddles in even closer. when you two share a piece of food, he'll purposefully split it in like 6.5/3.5 and give you the bigger piece. oh and he says he'll love you even if you turn into a worm so, that's that.

[changbinsboiledegg]

Hi!! I love your writing and I was wondering if you could do skz reactions to another member walking in on them and their gf doing the dirty? 😅

lmao sure anon. Digital footprint go brrr (thank you for the request ily 🫶)

Fem! Reader X SKZ. MDNI. MDNI. MDNI.

Warnings: Smut, ofc. Kinda explicit?, Unprotected or protected seggs, I didn't specify, swearing, implied vaginal, edging, cum mentions???, Overstimulation, teasing. Am I forgetting any?

Note: I'm not very good with smut BUT this is just a reaction post. I can do better probably. Also, I included some humorous shit because I got nervous. lol. Hope y'all enjoy :)

MDNI!!! Also if smut makes you uncomfy, pls skip (obviously).

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Chan

“What’s wrong? Can’t handle it anymore, baby girl?” Chan teased, pinning you down against the bed as he snapped his hips into yours, eliciting a loud moan that became muffled when he moved a hand over your mouth.

You were almost on the ledge of release and he as well.

You almost didn’t notice the door opening in the midst of all of the pleasure between you two.

“Oh my god!”

You and Chan both ceased any form of intimacy and quickly scrambled to cover yourselves as Jeongin covered his eyes and turned around.

“Jesus, Jeongin! What do you want?!” Chan sounded frustrated at being interrupted.

“I heard a cry, I thought something was wrong!” Jeongin’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Chan glanced at you, then back at Jeongin.

“Please, just… get out for a while…”

With that, Jeongin left without a second prompt.

Lee Know

Minho was teasing the entire time as you begged for him to just insert himself inside of you.

And he did. Slowly guiding himself into your wetness, thrusting once, and then pulling out. You whined, beginning to get frustrated. Minho smirked at this, rubbing the tip against your aching clit.

“Fucking hell! Just please—“

“Hey, Minho! Do you still have my—“ Jisung stopped, immediately going wide eyed and dropping his phone.

“I’m so sorry! I just— I didn’t see anything! Promise!” Jisung frantically apologized, leaving the room.

You exchanged an embarrassed glance with Minho, frozen in place before Jisung came in again, his hand over his eyes as he fumbled for his phone.

“Saw nothing! Just getting my phone!”

Changbin

You already came— twice. But Changbin had no mercy. He loved seeing you cum.

And he wanted to make you cum again.

“You can do it. I know you can.” Changbin gently spread your clenched thighs open again as they shook from your previous orgasm.

“Fuck, Changbin—“ You squirmed, gripping the bed sheets as he positioned himself over your entrance.

“Say the safe word and I will stop.” Changbin cooed, waiting for a response.

However, you didn’t say anything. You wanted to cum again. Right as he slid himself inside of you again, the door swung open.

“Oh.” It took Seungmin a few seconds to process what was going on. Seeing you quivering was enough to make him instantly leave the room, forgetting to shut the door in his embarrassment.

You looked at Changbin and said the safe word.

Hyunjin

Hyunjin was gentle every step of the way from the moment you started. He made sure not to grip your hips too tight or thrust too fast or hard unless you asked.

But you hadn’t asked, wanting it to be just as special as he did.

“You’re so pretty like this.” Hyunjin breathlessly complimented you, meaning every word he said. You stifled back a moan, knowing you needed to be quiet during this, especially since the other members were still there, lingering.

You squeezed your eyes shut, on the brink of orgasm but it was delayed and stopped when Hyunjin frantically got off and covered both of you up.

You almost took the blanket off before realizing Felix was standing in the doorway, hand covering his mouth.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, a bit irritated.

“You act like you’ve never seen two people have—“

“I’m leaving! I am leaving!” Felix cut him off, shutting the door behind him but accidentally slamming it in the process.

“Sorry!” His faint voice called back through the door.

Han

It was your first time with him, although it was a little awkward at first, the more you explored each others bodies, the more comfortable you got with each other.

“I love you.” Jisung whispered in your ear, guiding your hips as you rode him on the edge of the bed. You bit your lip to muffle the moans that left your mouth, feeling your legs shaking the longer you rode.

“I love you too.” You managed to gasp out. Jisung smiled breathlessly before pressing his lips against your neck, softly sucking on the skin between his lips.

You quietly whimpered and gasped, feeling yourself letting go.

“Seriously? Now? Come on!” Minho’s voice halted you to a stop as you widened your eyes, not wanting to look back at him.

“Privacy please!” Jisung stammered out, grabbing a pillow and attempted to cover your backside with it. Minho was already on his way out, pausing at the door.

“You better be using protection!” Then he left. You and Jisung were horrified for a few seconds before laughing off the embarrassment.

Felix

“I am all yours tonight.” Felix leaned back, watching you as you undressed yourself. You walked over to him, straddling him with a smirk.

“And I, am all yours.” You gently pushed him to where he was flat on his back. You leaned down to kiss him, slow at first, then each kiss after progressively became more and more desperate as you helped him undress as well.

“Ready?”

“Yes.” Felix mumbled, taking in a deep breath, wanting nothing more than to see you be the one to take control. You kissed his jaw and down to his neck as he worked his fingers around the clasp of your bra.

You helped him, momentarily pausing and tossing it to the floor beside the bed. Felix’ hands roamed your body, grasping and rubbing any part he could reach before rolling you on your back and spreading your legs apart.

You turned your head, seeing Hyunjin walking in. He didn’t seem to notice you and Felix until his eyes landed on your bra.

“Hyunjin?” You muttered, feeling the panic set in. Felix didn’t see him yet, being more focused on you.

“Hyunjin? What does he—”

Hyunjin gasped loudly and quickly rushed outside of the room, causing Felix’ head to snap in his direction.

“Oh my god!”

Seungmin

His hands roamed your chest, trailing down to your stomach and stopping on your thighs, rubbing his hands against them as his lips were pressed to your neck. Seungmin’s hands inched up towards the top of your thighs before maneuvering a hand between your legs, feeling the damp cloth.

“Already?” Seungmin teased, his breath was warm against your neck as you softly moaned, slightly bucking your hips against his hand.

Seungmin pulled his face back, glancing down, then into your eyes. “Wet and needy. Patience is a virtue, you know.”

You whined, throwing your head back. “I am needy! I need you now!”

You didn’t say anything in specific, but he knew what you meant. Seungmin smirked, pulling the cloth down your thighs, taking them off and exposing to him just how wet you were.

On instinct, you parted your legs and leaned back on your elbows as Seungmin placed his hand back where it was, only this time there wasn’t a barrier.

“More?”

“Seung—”

A scream erupted, coming from the doorway where a shocked Changbin stood. His scream was so loud that you scream as well, startled as you closed your legs together. Seungmin got up to block you, still dressed, unlike you.

“Changbin, what the hell?”

Changbin quickly turned around, mumbling to himself as he shut the door behind him.

I.N

Jeongin hovered over you, both of you still dressed, but just as needy for each other as you made out on the couch. Your lips messily clashed with his as his hand made it’s way up your shirt and towards your the hem of your bra.

Your hand moved down his chest and stopping on his stomach while your other hand gripped the back of his shoulder. He began to grind his hips against yours when you wrapped your legs around his waist.

The other members were outside and weren’t expected to be back inside for another hour. Jeongin wasn’t particularly worried about getting caught as long as he— and you, were quiet and quick.

You lifted his shirt to remove it. Jeongin removed his lips from yours momentarily and sat up, helping you remove it. He then did the same to you, removing your shirt and leaving you in your bra.

Right as he was about to press his lips against yours again, the sound of collective chattering interrupted you both and soon the whole group entered. No one was prepared for what they just saw.

You and Jeongin scrambled for your shirts, slipping them back on.

“Oh my god! That’s what the rooms are for!” Chan’s eyes were glued to the floor. In fact, none of the other members were actually looking at you and Jeongin.

They were as flushed as you were, only slightly less.

“On the couch too?” Minho sighed as Jeongin ran to his room, pulling you with him.

Before the door closed, you heard Hyunjin say, “Guess we have to get the couch cleaned again.”

Note 2: Does nobody know how to lock a door???? be so fucking fr now. LMAO

[kykyonthemoon]

Where The Ocean Whispers

Happy Rafayel's Day!

𓇼— The Lemurians use special seashells to transmit messages from their heart to one another. Would you like to try?

𓇼— Soft fluff, birthday fluff, confession

𓇼— Masterlist

𓇼— Request a fic

The waves brought layers of white foam to the shore, erasing the intertwined footprints, sand arches and tiny seashells covering two pairs of bare feet almost touching each other. Then, as if to wash away every worry, the cold water faded, leaving behind nothing except a sense of calm and coolness, with a sense of longing for the next wave. The crimson sun glistened well below the horizon, akin to a priceless ruby gradually sinking to the ocean floor.

"Look over there. The sea is swallowing your sun!”

A long finger of his gestured forward. Your gaze followed as you smiled. He was still reminded of the narrative you told about your childhood when you thought that every night, the sun would sink into the sea and rest.

“Now the whole ocean will be warmed, in red and orange, right?” You replied. That was what he said after hearing your story. He seemed so happy and content that you could still remember it and recite every word.

“Maybe we can't paint the sea the color of the sun,” your voice continued, “But we can do this…”

All of a sudden, you hurled water high with your foot. The cool water reached him, splashing a bit on his white shirt. He rolled his eyes at you.

“So you do enjoy being playful like this?”

He bent down, gathered the entire ocean in his hands then flung it in your direction. Like a very gentle wave, seawater fell on your hair and light garment.

After the celebration was over, he and you raced outside to catch the sunset over the sea, leaving your coats and shoes behind. Both of you were drenched.

"That's not fair!" You gave a loud shout. “Did you do that on purpose?”

With a big chuckle, he answered, "That's what we refer to as the blessing of the sea." You have to accept it all.”

“You are the birthday boy. Here, take it all!”

You kept splashing him with saltwater. He persisted nonetheless. Before long, your entire bodies was soaked.

“That's enough, Rafayel. I give up!”

You surrendered by raising both hands. You felt a bit chilled by the breeze. Rafayel hauled you right up to the shore. You had no idea when he had a big towel ready there. He wrapped it around you.

“Hurry. Dry yourself.”

You obediently did as told. Then you gave him another glance. Water dripped from his dark purple curls, framing his small, flawless face. You couldn't take your eyes off the damp shirt that adhered to his body, exposing lines that made you flush. Rafayel took one look at you and immediately covered himself with both hands.

“I'm aware that my beauty can stun others. But if you keep staring at me like that, it would not be proper anymore."

You hid your embarrassed face behind the cotton towel. With a smile, Rafayel enquired:

"So? Do you want to go back inside?”

You gave him a firm shake of your head. “I want to stay here a little longer.”

Not that Rafayel objected. He accompanied you on your beach stroll. You remained quiet. You did not want to go back partly because you could not bear to see the day ended.

It was Rafayel's birthday. You had carefully prepared for an intimate party, with only a few people from his studio and family members attending. You personally made the cake for him and prepared everything yourself. But your heart was still restless as you kept carrying the feeling that this was not enough. You had yet to give him what he truly needed.

You continued to ponder. Rafayel needed what? He was wealthy and famous. He was exceptionally gifted, and he may have lived an extended lifespan. Giving something to someone who has had everything is impossible. If you could give him your heart, you would do so. In a symbolic sense.

Between you and Rafayel was a feeling without a name.

You started off as merely his reluctant bodyguard, someone to take care of his errands. You were not sure when exactly, but the image of him planted roots in your mind like the way he frequently appeared in front of you, provoking you. He was adorable and obnoxious all at once. Although he posed a threat, being around him gave you a sense of security. But you never, ever dared to speak it aloud. Perhaps you were afraid. You feared that the relationship would fizzle out like sea foam the moment you began seeking to give it a name. You made an effort to suppress that emotion, but it kept returning, much like waves finding their way back to the shore.

"What's off?" Rafayel enquired. He came to a stop. His expression was undoubtedly showing concern.

"I'm alright." You dismissed him with a shake of your head. Your heart raced whenever you were close to him. The feeling of being on cloud nine, at the same time realizing that a bottomless black hole was waiting at your feet made you about to lose your mind. You hated this feeling, yet also addicted to it. Like the way you were addicted to his very existence. Perfect like a dream.

His cool hand was placed on your forehead. He frowned and said:

“It seems your temperature is a bit high.”

You retreated a step, rejecting his touch. It was as if there was poison from his body that would seep into your heart, and you would drive yourself to a slow death if you could not touch him again.

“I'm fine.” With a resolute reply, you took a seat on the sand, a little wet from the waves. “I'm just a little tired… Let me sit here for a bit…”

Rafayel looked at you with a puzzled expression. He was curious to know what else you were planning to do. But you hid your face in the white towel. He sighed.

"I'll go fetch you some exquisite seashells then. Maybe it will make you feel better.”

You gave a little nod, glancing at Rafayel's back as it absorbed the last bit of sunlight on a peaceful day. This scene was a bit familiar, like the first time you had by chance met him on the street.

Rafayel knelt to get something that the waves had just carried. He held it tenderly in his palm, studied it for a moment, and then came over to you.

“Look what I've just found.” A fairly large shell weaved together in shades of orange-red and ivory-white was what he held out in front of you. You had never seen a shell with such a special hue like this before.

"So beautiful!" You exclaimed as Rafayel plopped down next to you on the sand. Your heart raced again as he sat so near.

“You know, the Lemurians often use shells like this to transmit messages to each other.”

He twisted it in his hand to examine it more closely before placing it in your palm.

“Do you want to give it a shot?”

You raised the shell quite a bit. Its hue was nearly identical to that of the horizon's sunset. You said:

“Show me how to do it.”

“Just tell the seashell what you want to say the most right now.”

“Is that all?”

“Yup. That's all. But what you say to it must come from the heart. It will find the person whom you want to send this to, no matter where they are.”

You looked at Rafayel. He appeared so honest, but this story was too much of a fairy tale and not very realistic. You did not know if he was just making this up to tease you. Then again, you once thought the Lemurians never existed. But here he was, sitting next to you.

You put the seashell to your lips, gave him another glance, and then murmured something to it.

Once you were done, you gave it to Rafayel.

“It's yours.”

His lips curled into a dazzling smile, as though he knew you would give it back to him.

“Hmmm.” Rafayel took the shell and leaned it close to his ear. He gestured as if he was concentrating hard to listen. Then he said with disappointment evident on his face: “I don't hear any message.”

"What? How is that possible?" You were impatient.

“Do you want to try again?”

He returned the shell to your hand. This time, you took a deep breath and looked at him while whispering your thoughts.

“Still nothing.” After listening to it for a second time, Rafayel said. “Are you sure you sent the message with all your heart?”

You replied sullenly: "Of course... Maybe since I'm not a Lemurian, I can't make it work."

Rafayel held your hand and put the shell in it. “Try it once more?”

"I doubt that anything will be different this time around." You gazed at the shell in your hand with boredom. “I was just going to… give you one more gift to make your birthday special…”

“My day is already quite special.” Rafayel's bright smile made the distant sunset dim, and suddenly you caught his warmth. “Thank you so much, for organizing a party for me. To be honest, though, I don't like partying as much as going to the sea with you like this."

Listening to his words, you found yourself smiling. You took off the towel that was wrapped around you, letting it fall freely onto the sand. You held the brilliant seashell in your hands, this time determined to let him hear your heart out.

Rafayel nodded and smiled at you as encouragement. You closed your eyes tightly, and lips slightly parted. You had a feeling that it could read my thoughts whether you said them out loud or not.

I really like, really like, really like Rafayel.

I like the way you concentrate when holding a paintbrush, as if the whole world is spread out before your eyes.

I like your terrified look when surrounded by cats.

I like it when you overdo things or act like a drama queen just to get my attention.

I like the bright colors you paint in my sky when it's gray.

I like the way you tease and then comfort me.

I like how your gentle touches are enough to keep me up at night.

I like everything about you.

Maybe, I love you, Rafayel. So much.

The shell was brought towards Rafayel, but halted midway. You wavered. Once he knew your feelings, would he still be by your side? Or would he throw this shell into the ocean along with your heart, letting it dissolve into bubbly white foam?

Rafayel looked at you and smiled. Even though he had laughed many times, you'd never seen him as happy as he was at that moment. There was an increased shine in his eyes, as if pearls were rising to the surface and ready to burst out the corners of his eyes. Happiness. You had never captured such a genuine moment of pure happiness like this.

He took the shell from your hand, but there was no need to listen to it anymore. He leaned closer to you and whispered:

“The words from your heart have been received by the person you wanted to send them to… You have no idea how long he waited just to hear those words… I love you too. So much."

When you felt soft lips touching yours, little did you know; that Lemurian man had heard what you said the first time he put his ear to the shell. He merely wanted to hear it one more time, and another. He wanted to hear you confess being able to confess to you; this day, the day after, and the day after that...

Until the ocean runs dry.