#the way it memorized all my tags lmao

[bedriddenandcrying]

Not in the mood for drawing hafgdsghd hope this is acceptable

[satrs]

Baby, Baby!

SYNOPSIS; Babyfever with the l&ds men<3

FEATURING; ZAYNE. XAVIER. SYLUS. RAFAYEL. CALEB. xfem!reader

TAGS; ADULT/NSFW CONTENT. MDNI! unprotected intercourse, smegual intercourse. br$$ding. creampi. heavy dörtytalk. extremely pathetic crybaby caleb alert!!!. mention of kids, duh!. doggy in rafs. mating press in sylus'. spooning in xaviers. cowgirl in calebs.

✎ A/N; FUCK SWEETIES! FINALLY FINISHED THIS!! I thought I'd see the pearly gates before I get to live this day LMAO. Couldn't stop thinking about my babytrapper!Caleb post, so this came out of it ^^ This might be my fav work yet ngl hehe

ZAYNE ✰ How to make a Baby 101!

"You",

Zayne stops himself as he takes a deep breath, a grunt rumbling in his throat, "You want a baby?"

It's as if you could read his mind. He's been thinking about this—about a baby—for quite a while now, seeing it as a next step after your established wedding. You're his love — his darling wife, so it only seemed it would be natural for you both to consider this next big step in your life.

Zayne loomed over you, his gaze dark, smoldering, and consuming. His breath was ragged, uneven, his hands trembling as they gripped your thighs, spreading you open beneath him.

Your eager nod was all it took for him to stuff his entire length inside you in one swift motion, feral, low grunt erupting from the depths of his lungs.

"l'll give it to you. Gonna-" he stops himself with a hiss, hips stuttering at your greedy grip onto his dick, "Gonna give my sweet darling a baby."

"P-please Zayne. Need it soooo bad!"

A helpless, broken mewl spilled from your lips as your nails clawed into his shoulders, heels digging into his back in a desperate attempt to pull him in deeper. His body shuddered at your neediness, at the way you begged so sweetly, so pathetically.

“You don’t even know what you do to me,” he murmured, his voice hoarse, strained, like he was holding himself back. Like he was fighting the urge to ruin you completely.

His fingers traced along your jaw, down your throat, until his hand traced circles on your belly. His lips parted, his tongue darting out to wet them as he stared down at you like you were something he could devour whole.

"You always let me have you like this," he rasped, his hips rolling forward, stretching you open inch by inch over and over again. "Like you were made for me."

You gasped, back arching, hands flying to his biceps, gripping tight, and Zayne let out a deep, guttural groan. His head fell forward, his forehead pressing against yours, his breath fanning over your lips as he pushed deeper, until there was no space left between you.

"Fuck," he hissed, his teeth gritting and his hands clutching at your waist like he was trying to ground himself. "Can’t hold back when you’re like this."

His hips snapped forward, the sudden movement pulling a shaky moan from your lips, and he drank it in like a man starved.

His pace was slow, deep, and precise—savoring the cramped space of your cunt, memorizing every pulse, every clench, and every desperate little noise you made.

"You feel that?" he whispered, pressing his circling hand down against your stomach, his touch firm, possessive. "Feel how deep I am?"

His lips brushed against your ear, his voice dropping into something low, rough, almost dangerous. "Nobody else gets to have you like this." His teeth nipped at your earlobe, his breath shuddering. "Nobody else ever will."

And when he pulled back—just enough to see the way you were falling apart beneath him—his lips curled into a dark, satisfaction.

"Mine."

The gluttonous vibration of his voice startled you almost, his mouth hot against your neck as you both simultaneously come undone, rolling your puffy clit between his digits to ride out your high.

But he wouldn't stop cumming - he couldn't. He has to make sure you take it. Fat spurts of cum paint your walls completely, pumping the oh-so familiar fluid into your womb.

"You'll be the best mother ever- fuckkk." He continues to ram his now spent cock into you, growing full erect again, the thought of your pregnant form just plastered before his vision.

You huffed, trying to shove at his chest, but the wicked smirk on his lips only deepened. Voice dripping with something dark and sweet, "I think I should go for another shot, just to be sure."

And a crazed smile creeps up his usually nonchalant features at your aghast expression, quick to plaster a sweet, dotting kiss to your plump lips.

He rolled his hips, slow, deep, deliberate, pushing his seed deeper and deeper into you, and he knew that this really didn't make any difference on the outcome from a medical state point but right now everything in him screamed to pump you full.

One thing is for certain, though— you're not coming out of this not pregnant with his child. Or maybe in plural as in children? Yeah, that sounds way better.

"Yeah," he chuckled against your skin, pressing a kiss to your jaw,

"One more for good luck."

XAVIER ✰ Oopsie-Daisy!

The first thing you felt was warmth—the heat of Xavier’s body pressed tight against yours, his arm heavy and unyielding over your waist, keeping you right where he wanted you. Even in sleep, he held you close, like he couldn’t stand the thought of you slipping away.

You weren’t sure how long he’d been awake, but the lazy caress of his fingers over your stomach told you he’d been lingering in this moment, taking his time. Soft, slow circles, the barest drag of his fingertips across sensitive skin—teasing, testing.

A slow roll of his hips, and suddenly you did feel it—the firm, heavy weight of his cock dragging through your slick folds, grinding right up against your clit.

A sharp gasp left your lips as he did it again, long and deliberate, letting the thick head of his cock glide through the wet mess he was making of you.

His fingers dragged lower, barely brushing over your clit before pulling away—keeping you right at the edge, keeping you desperate.

“You’re not leaving this bed ‘til you’re full," he promised, his cock sliding against you again, so damn slick, so damn hard. "So damn full you got no choice but to take, take, take.”

His breath, warm and steady, ghosted over your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. He must’ve felt it because a low chuckle rumbled in his chest.

In one swift motion he slides into you with ease, walls clenching around the all too familiar girth, his leaking pre smeared onto your insides.

"Mm-mm," he tsked, his gravelly voice thick with amusement. "Ain’t no runnin’ now, baby. You’re right where I want you."

His grip tightened slightly, his palm pressing just a little firmer against your stomach, like he wanted to hold you there, to remind you exactly who had you like this. His nose brushed against your jaw, lips ghosting over your skin as he pressed a slow, teasing kiss beneath your ear.

"Feel me in there?" he murmured, voice thick with possession. "All deep inside you, right where I belong."

His hand flexed, fingers splaying wider, pressing down just enough to make you feel every inch of him buried inside you.

"Tell me you love it," he whispered, his lips dragging down your neck, teeth grazing your skin. "Tell me you love bein’ mine. That you love me fillin’ you up like this."

Your breath hitched, and the second you whimpered out, "Hhnnn! — I love it when you fill me up, love you—"

Xavier growled low in his throat, his arm tightening around you, pulling you impossibly closer as his hips snapped forward in a slow, aching thrust.

"Damn right you do," he murmured, a smirk pressing against your skin.

Your breath hitched as his hips rolled forward, pressing his already-hard cock against your dripping heat between your thighs. A knowing chuckle rumbled through his chest.

"You want me to fill you up, don’t you? Fuck a baby into you?"

You opened your mouth to protest, but the second his fingers gripped your hips, the moment he rolled his own against you—

A small, broken gasp slipped out instead.

„Everyone's gonna know. They’ll know your mine. They’ll— goddd your squeezing me so damn tight, I can’t—„ his nonstop rambles only continue, accompanied by the lewd sounds echoing off the walls.

His breathing turns rapid, hooded eyes fixed onto your tummy, propping one strong leg onto the bed to sink deeper into you.

His chest pressed flush against your back, warm and solid, trapping you in his arms, keeping you exactly where he wanted you, giving him the perfect angle to bury himself deeper, harder, where you needed him most.

His hands—god, his hands—one pressed firmly against your stomach, splayed wide over your lower belly, like he could already feel himself inside you, claiming you from the inside out. The other? Sliding lower, fingers teasing along your inner thigh, thumbing at your sensitive bundle of nerves, making you cry out.

"Well," he breathed, lips brushing against your ear, voice dripping with pure sin, "who am I to deny my girl?"

The way your body shuddered at his words, the way you clenched down around him had Xavier groaning, curses spilling from his lips, his hips faltering for just a second before snapping forward with renewed force.

"You like that, huh?" he rasped, his fingers tightening their hold on your stomach. "Like knowing you’re mine? That no one else gets to see you like this?"

Plap. Plap. Plap.

His hips rolled, slow, deliberate, deep.

"Say it," he demanded, voice wrecked, desperate, pushing his forehead against your shoulder. "Tell me you’re mine. That I’m the only one who gets to have you like this."

His thrusts grew more frantic, his breath ragged against your ear, his grip almost bruising.

"Tell me," he rasped, grinding deep, making you feel every inch of him. And the second you did—the moment you choked out that you were his, that no one else could ever have you like this—

Xavier lost it.

His arm wrapped around your waist, locking you in place as he drove himself as deep as he could go, his body trembling against yours as he came undone.

And even as he shuddered, even as he pressed soft, lingering kisses to your shoulder, his hands never left your stomach.

Because now?

Everyone was going to know.

SYLUS ✰ Mission: Impregnable!

"A-again." His slight stutter doesn't go unnoticed by you, despite the loud echoing of his hips snapping into yours. "Say it again."

He had to have misunderstood something, right? Because if he didn't, if you really said what he thought you said- you're fucked.

You whine at his guttonal voice, his desperate hips drilling his dick further into your depths. "Wan'- oh! Wan' you to make me a mommy, Sy."

Sylus had that look in his eyes again—the kind that made your breath catch, the kind that sent a thrill up your spine. His fingers ghosted along your skin, calculating, possessive, until they found comfort with your hand interlocked with his.

"You realize," he murmured, voice low, precise, mere inches from your lips, "that biologically speaking, your body is at its most receptive right now."

You see, Sylus was no dummy. Of course, he was keeping track on your cycle. Who do you think he is? And it just so happened that today you're the most fertile.

Core burning in pure excitement, your heels dig into his lower back, eager and hungry for his seed. You whine as you feel his swollen cock bullying your poor cervix.

"Sylus-"

He silenced you with a slow, deep kiss, fingers tightening on your waist.

"And if I were to push you past your limit tonight—again and again—" his voice dipped, sending shivers down your spine, "well, statistically, the odds would be in my favor, wouldn’t they?"

Your breath caught as he tilted your chin up, making you look at him. His eyes gleamed with something dangerous, obsessive, completely focused on you.

His fingers slid down your stomach, tracing slow, calculated patterns, as if mapping out the future he was about to give you.

"I should be thorough," he mused, almost to himself. "Another round would increase the probability of success by at least—"

You didn’t get to hear the end of that sentence.

Because Sylus surged forward, lips crashing onto yours in a way that was desperate and all-consuming, like he was finally allowing himself to break past his carefully maintained restraint.

Like an unstoppable force, he slides out of you until only his crown was engulfed by your puckering hole until he slams! His entire length past your sobbing ring.

The ridiculous stretch his dick inflicts onto your poor pussy is otherworldly, almost unbelievable. As he forces his girthy inches further into you, a noticeable bulge appears on your tummy.

And oh boy, does he notice it.

All it takes is one glance — one look of those rubies of his— downwards to the gradually growing imprint of his tip meanly poking against your tummy, and he snaps.

His big arms reach for your legs and in almost an instant, you’re folded into the meanest, nastiest mating press known to man.

„O-Oh!“ you surprised hiccup does nothing to soften his antics — quite the opposite. A feral grunt erupting from the depth of his lungs lets you know in what condition your beloved Sylus is in.

„Twins. I‘ll give you twins.“

"Ah!- T-twins!?"

He‘s gone mad.

What's left of him is a disheveled mess, crazed out mind deadest on pumping you full of his gooey load, even if it's the last thing he'll do.

"Yes. Two sweet little girls, just as beautiful as their mother."

His massive frame caged you in, your thighs now folded up to your chest, leaving you completely at his mercy. His body was trembling, slick with sweat, but his grip on you was ironclad. He wouldn’t let you run, wouldn’t let you escape—not from him, not from this.

His chuckle swells your heart with so much love you can barely breathe. Or was it because of his dick reaching so ridiculously far up into you, you could almost feel him in your throat? Both perhaps.

Flaming eyes, usually so warm and gentle, were wild now—dangerous, obsessive. This wasn't your Sylus anymore. This is the leader of Onychinus—conquering and claiming everything he desires.

And at this moment, his desire was to make you the mother of his offspring.

"There," he growled, his voice raw, almost a snarl. "That’s where I need to be. Need to be deeper—need to—fuck—"

His hips snapped forward, sharp, relentless, sending white-hot pleasure sparking through your veins. Lips were parted, panting, his expression one of pure, animalistic need.

Your head lulled back, words failing you, but he wasn’t having that. His fingers wrapped around your jaw, forcing your gaze back to him.

"Stay with me," he pleaded in a whimper, his voice thick, strained. His thrusts were turning frantic now, sloppy, desperate, like he was losing control. "Wanna see your face when I fill you up."

You whimpered, and that was all it took.

Sylus let out a broken, guttural groan, his body shuddering violently as he bottomed out, burying his throbbing cock as deep as he could go. You could feel him— only him  — hot, thick cum spilling inside you in endless waves, stuffing you full.

And the way he was still pressing his weight into you, still rolling his hips in slow, lazy circles, made you realize—

He was nowhere near done.

RAFAYEL ✰ Catching Feelings & Babies

The room was dimly lit, warm, and filled with the soft sound of ragged breaths and skin meeting skin. Rafayel’s strong hands gripped your hips, holding you firmly in place, keeping you exactly where he wanted you—where you belonged.

"You look so perfect like this," he murmured, voice deep and rich, like he was admiring a piece of fine art. Like you were something sacred. His fingers traced over the dip of your spine, down to where you stretched around him, taking him so beautifully.

"B-been waitin' for this sooo long baby, finallyyyy." Breathless, he pounds his hips against your plump ass again, again and again. His repeated movement rams you deeper into the soft cushion.

Rafayel’s hands were gentle, reverent, gliding over your heated skin, like you were something fragile and precious.

But his eyes?

Dark and Deep. Filled with something unshakable.

Your body arched instinctively, seeking more, needing more, and Rafayel only chuckled—low, dark, and knowing.

A broken gasp tore from your throat, your fingers clutching the sheets, barely able to hold yourself up as he pressed even deeper, stretching your hole to the very limit.

"Shhh, love," he soothed, one hand sliding up your back, pressing between your shoulder blades. "Let me take care of you."

He rolled his hips in slow, deep strokes — each one hitting the perfect spot, each one meant to remind you exactly who you belonged to.

"You feel it too, don’t you?" His voice was softer than usual, thick with emotion. His fingers splayed over your lower stomach, pressing just enough to make you feel every pulsating vein of his, every knock against your cervix.

"Y-yes", you swallowed hard, head spinning in circles while nodding. A slow, warm smile curled his lips, but beneath it was something more dangerous. Something primal.

"Good."

"That’s it," Rafayel praised, his voice like liquid gold, soothing and possessive all at once. "Take all of me. Let me give you everything."

He adjusted his angle, thrusting deeper, harder, slower, dragging out every sensation until you were a trembling mess beneath him.

"Listen to her. Cryin' for me ta fill her up." He follows suit with his long finger pressed against your plump lips, consoling you. "Shhh, baby. I know, I knowww. But ya gotta hold on for me, mkay?"

You cry out his name as his hefty length hits every spot imaginable inside of you, stars appearing behind your eye sockets. "Nghhh! Rafayel, I can't!"

Dizziness overcomes you as you reach back for his beefy arm, nails clawing crescent moons into his flesh. His steady hips cause his bulging head to nudge at your gushy spot repeatedly as your juices coat his length in a glossy essence.

The lewd squelch sounding from your cunt has him in a chokehold. Each rapid thrust of his sinks your body further into the sheets, his head spinning at the obscene sight of your back in a nasty arch, his pelvis snapping against your ass, each jiggle robbing a needy sound from him.

He‘ll never get enough of this— enough of you.

"Sh-Shit, cutie. Gonna give it to ya realll good. Fill you up — f-fuckkk! Make you a mommy.“ The slight crack in his voice gets drowned out by the loud sound of his heavy balls snapping against your poor swollen clit.

Hm. Mommy has a nice ring to it.

His hand left your waist, only to wrap around your throat, pulling you up—back against his chest and you didn’t think that it could be possible for him to get even deeper, but he did. His lips brushed your ear, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine.

"You’re mine," he whispered, his voice a dark promise, an unshakable truth. "And when I fill you up—" he thrust harder, dragging a desperate moan from your lips—"yer' gonna stay mine forever."

And the way he was holding you so close, fucking you so deep, made you believe every single word.

He could burst right at the sight of your fucked-out face, and he starts to imagine how perfect your child would be. With your gorgeous hair and that stunning smile of yours, and—

"M‘ gonna cum! G-oshhhh please don’t stop don’t—"

She, no — they would have his eyes and—

With your head leaned against his shoulder, blue and pink ombre orbs fixate on your face.

His repeated shallow breaths tickle your neck, an impatient hand cups your belly, finger soothingly brushing over it, his hot breath brushing against your ear.

" Mhmmm yeahh. We’re gonna have two gorgeous girls, can’t have her be all alone, can we?“

"T-two?“ you manage to choke out in shock, only to be startled by his chuckle. "Yeahhh, you’re right. Two is too little. Four is more like it.“

The speedy plap! plap! plap! Against the valley of your ass turns irregular, needier, even.

"Four—fuck—four perfect little babies," he panted, his lips brushing over your temple, his voice thick with love and obsession. "We’ll have the perfect family, won’t we? You, me, our little ones—"

His thrusts turned sloppy, desperate, and then—his entire body locked up. A deep, wrecked groan tore from his throat, his fingers digging into your thighs as he spilled inside you, claiming you, filling you up until there wasn’t an inch left untouched.

He collapsed against your back, his weight warm, grounding, safe. His chest rose and fell in heavy pants, his lips pressing lazy, feather-light kisses along your skin.

"You’re mine," he murmured, his voice softer now, no less possessive but full of warmth. "My love, my home, my everything."

A shaky breath left you, your body spent but satisfied. "Four kids, huh?" you mumbled, exhaustion creeping into your voice.

Rafayel hummed, his arms wrapping around you, holding you impossibly close.

"Or maybe five."

CALEB ✰ Practice Makes Perfect

He must be dreaming, surely.

"Please, Caleb. Need it- need it so bad pleaseplease-"

Yeah. Because if there is heaven, fucking you raw for the first time surely is just that.

His head pressed against the bed, his breath coming in shaky, uneven pants, his hands gripping your hips so tight you were sure he’d leave bruises—but he didn’t mean to.

"So—so good," he whimpered, his voice breaking on the last syllable, like he was barely holding himself together. "D-don’t—don’t move, I can’t—"

You clenched around him, and he quite literally sobs.

He's a mess.

It's pathetic, really. Tears stream down his face as he sniffles back the waterfall from flowing. But he couldn't care less, honestly.

Scenarios of you with a round and glowing belly, the birth of your shared child, their first words, steps - hell, even their graduation. He had all of it laid out in a timeline.

If you could see his thoughts, you would've probably called him crazy. And he wouldn't even blame you.

His fingers trembled as he tried so hard to keep himself together, but he was slowly falling apart, crumbling, unraveling.

"I—" he choked on his own breath, tears pricking his lashes, his entire body shaking as your hips work faster, grinding harder against his pelvis. " ‘M too deep—too full—fuck, I can feel it—"

His arms wrapped around your waist, hugging you close, clinging, needy.

"Please," he begged, voice so broken, so wrecked, like he was praying to something greater than himself. "I-I wanna stay inside—I wanna stay with you forever."

His lips ghosted over your stiff nipples, soft, desperate kisses, imagining how full and plump they'll become once you're pregnant. And when you shifted the tiniest bit, he gasped—a wrecked, breathless little sound.

Your breath quickens, orgasm creeping up your spine with each rocking of your hips, desperately chasing your high.

His hips stuttered at the mere image of you - pregnant, movements turning frantic and uncontrolled, like he couldn’t take it anymore.

"C-caleb, I—" Mind going blank at one particular quick kiss against your cervix, you crash head first into your orgasm, pussy spasming around his girth.

A broken, wrecked sob tore from his throat, and you felt it—

The way his cock twitched inside you, the first thick pulse of heat spilling deep, painting your insides in long, desperate spurts.

His entire body shook, his arms wrapped around you so tightly you thought he might never let go.

"M-makin’ you a mommy," he babbled, voice thick with exhaustion, heavy with love. "Gonna—gonna make you so full, so round—"

God, he was a lost cause.

"I love you," he cried, his voice shaking, raw with need. "I love you—I love you—"

"Love you too, Caleb. You're s-so good for me. Gonna be a great papa." you spurt out in a spent, wobbly voice, body collapsing onto his in exhaustion.

And then he came. Again.

It was with a broken whimper, a desperate, wrecked sob, his entire body shaking, panting. He shoots endless ropes of cum deep into your womb, the overwhelming fullness in your tummy causing your mind to go hazy.

His orgasm was so intense and forceful, you can still feel stringy, weak cum dripping from his cock, only adding the cherry on top of your jammed vacancy.

He didn’t let go. He wouldn’t.

Even as his spent cock twitched inside you, even as his warm release dripped out in thick, messy streaks, he held you there, buried deep, unwilling to let even a drop go to waste.

His fingers clutched at your waist, desperate, like letting go would tear him apart. His chest rose and fell in quick, shaky pants, his eyes glassy, and his lips kiss-swollen and parted as he tried to catch his breath.

“P-please,” he rasped, his voice wrecked, pleading. “Don’t—don’t move yet.”

His face was flushed, his damp hair sticking to his forehead, tears clinging to his lashes. He was ruined, wrecked beyond repair, and it was all because of you.

A soft whimper tumbled from his lips as he nuzzled into your shoulder, his hands trailing weakly down your sides, needy, restless.

“Need to feel you just a little longer,” he mumbled, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses against your skin. “Can’t—can’t be away from you yet.”

You could feel him still twitching inside you, his cock softening, but reluctant to leave. His release seeped out around the base, warm and sticky, but he just shifted his hips, pushing deeper, as if he could keep it all inside you.

"Made for me," he murmured, feverish, pressing sloppy, lingering kisses against your shoulder, your neck. "You're made for me."

His fingers roamed lazily, tracing the shape of your hips, your waist—like he was memorizing you, worshiping you, committing every inch of your body to memory.

"Promise me," he whispered against your ear, soft and broken. "Promise me you'll never leave me. That you'll always let me have you like this."

There was a plea in his voice, raw and vulnerable, like he’d fall apart if you said no.

You ran gentle fingers through his damp hair, soothing, reassuring and tugging him even closer.

"I'm yours, Caleb," you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his temple.

His breath hitched. His thighs trembled beneath you.

"Say it again," he whispered, so quietly it almost wasn't there.

"I'm yours."

A broken whimper slipped past his lips, his hands gripping you tighter, his body pressing so close you could feel every inch of him molding into you.

And with a deep, shaky sigh, Caleb finally let himself go—sinking into you, into your warmth, into the one place he always belonged.

Nowhere else. No one else.

Just you.

Always you.

©︎SATRS. all rights reserved. Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify.

[tbaluver]

Hi...I love your writing so much, Big Fan >_< ♡

Can I ask about what it's like to shower with LNDS men?

Thank U

Showering With Them- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre/ tags: MDNI, 18+, suggestive content. short NSFW is right below the SFW ! (p.s sorry if this format was confusing ! just wanted to add both in this one) a/n: hihi anonnie! thank you for supporting my work i always appreciate it so much ! ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ i hope this was okay and that you enjoy reading this and my other future works ! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ i dunno but i might make a shower smut after writing these LMAO anyways gonna post another headcanon in a few hours after this (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier: (SFW)

More of a shower person than a bath person because there were too many times to count on how many times you saw him asleep in the bathtub.

Almost falls asleep when you massage his scalp with soap as he wraps his hands on your waist to keep balanced. It just felt too relaxing and he couldn't help but flutter his eyes closed

Has a fair share of wash products but he ends up using yours because yours smell better and it smells like you.

He loves it when you clean him, it feels such a safe and intimate space between the two of you. You hum softly as you work gently against his scalp that you lathered. He felt so safe, so warm, in the space that you two created that he eases into the relaxation.

Loves the feeling of you every time he grazes his hands over your body. Obviously he’ll make sure to wash you as well. He’ll make sure that the soap doesn’t get in your eyes. Sometimes the two of you stand and hug, enjoying each other presence, while the water pours over the two of you-until the water gets cold.

Xavier: (NSFW)

He can't help it. You'll feel his hard-on when he's pressed up behind you. Ruts into you very slowly against your ass as he wraps around you while his hand is planted on your thigh to control the lazy pace. His moans would invade your ear as shaky breaths escape your lips.

Zayne: (SFW)

Another intimate time for the two of you.

When he’s coming home from work, he’s basically putty in your hands. You didn’t need to ask twice. He would barely have any energy to eat dinner or shower. He’s so touchy when you’re helping him wash him off while he lowly murmurs in your ear ‘thank you’s’

The type of man that would admire your body as he washes you with the body soap and shampoo. He has seen your body many times and has memorized every detail of you. But each time he sees you, it's like discovering you anew again. His eyes trail down as his hands lower, lower, and lower down your body as he washes you with the body soap.

Helps you wash your back and any hard places for you to reach and you do the same for him as well.

When you offer to help him wash his hair, he leans down, and you lather it with extra soap, laughing at how cute he looks. He doesn’t mind this at all, he finds your reaction to be adorable whenever you do this.

When he washes your hair, he is always so gentle. “Close your eyes for me, my love.” He’ll say softly as his hands carefully knead shampoo into your hair before washing it all away. He'll make sure none of it goes into your eyes.

Once you both finish washing, he turns off the shower and steps out to grab your towel. You both dry each other off, making sure every drop of moisture is gone and helps you put on your robe.

Zayne: (NSFW)

One finger would be rolling on your nipple while the other hand works through your folds. His mouth would be sucking and swirling on your breasts.

He'll use the shower bench to sit and to meet your height to suck on your breasts but will also use that opportunity to let you ride him.

Rafayel: (SFW)

Takes a long shower and I’m talking hours. He most definitely hogs the water and leaves you cold behind him. Has way too much showering products than you but he’ll definitely share them with you

Jokes aside, he would not stop caressing every inch and curve of your body when he sees you glistening with the water.

Loves to wrap his arms around you from behind. He’ll trail kisses on your shoulder to your ear while whispering how cute you look  before burying his face in the crook of your neck.

Lets you try all his expensive washes and you two would experiment every shower on which is the best

Would tell you to wash him and he loves it when you wash his hair. The way your fingers scrub the shampoo and your nails massaging his scalp, felt like heaven to him. He’ll rest his head on your shoulder as you wash the suds out and he’ll have a content smile resting on his lips.

When the two of you are finished drying up, he'll make sure to pick the best moisturizer for the two of you before you both get dressed

Rafayel: (NSFW)

Round two. After you both finish having sex in bed or wherever, you’ll find him against you again all naked and wet. His arousal is more heightened in the water. He just needs his pretty girl again after the mess you made on his cock

Loves how the water slides and glistens down between your bodies

Sylus: (SFW)

The type to say, “Why waste water when we can just shower together.” And I fear he does have a point so that’s why you both shower together often.

He likes to stand behind you most of the time because this allows him to place his chin on your head as the water falls onto the both of you.

He is most definitely going to get handsy using the soapy water. He’ll moves his hand further down to rub your butt and give it a light squeeze

He loves to put the lather of soap on your nose or place a bunch on your hair just to see your reaction. He also finds it amusing to see you try to do the same with him but you can’t because of your height difference. It usually ends up in a bubble war between the two of you.

He helps dries you off first before you help him dry him off. He'll lower his head so you can ruffle the towel on his head.

When it was his turn to wash his hair, he would lean down, a smile curling on his lips as he gazed at your face while you carefully shampoo into his hair

“Sy close your eyes”

“Why would I do that when I want to stare at my pretty girl?”

Sylus: (NSFW)

You turn him on easily so showering with him feels like he has a permanent hard on. Once you step in the shower, he’ll let you get warm and wet before he starts  rubbing up on you. He just loves the feeling of your bodies pressed against each other, especially since you both are wet.

Pins you against the glass door of the shower and takes you from behind. His right hand finds your breast, squeezing them and pinching your hardening buds in the warm water while his left hand is on the plush of your ass. Sometimes he'll press you up against the wall and have your legs wrapped around him so you don't slip, just let him do all the work as he ruts into you

[inseobts]

hiiii!!! i hope you're having a good day 💖 i love your writing sm!! if your requests are open can i ask for a law x reader where reader used to date ace and was there when he died in marineford so she saw Law save luffy, so she joins the heart pirates as a way to thank him for saving Ace little brother. They slowly fall in love but won't admit it and when Law leaves to fight Doffy reader admits her feelings bc she's terrified of losing Law. They get together when they see each other again in zou

please please but it's okay if you can't or don't want to!!! 💖

Tides of Fate

law × reader (+ ace x reader)

a/n: this request was totally my kind of fav plots lmao thank you

words count: 5.9k

tags: slow burn, angst with a happy ending, marineford aftermath, emotional baggage

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

Luffy sits on the shore, his face blank. Too blank. The kind of emptiness that only comes after losing everything.

You know that feeling. It’s the same one you're feeling right now, that it's hard to breathe.

Tearing your gaze away, you turn toward the submarine where Law stands with his arms crossed, waiting. If you’re going to do this, you need to do it now.

Taking a deep breath, you step toward Luffy “Luffy.”

He doesn’t look up.

“I’m leaving.”

His fingers tighten around the bracelet, knuckles white “With them?” His voice is hoarse, raw.

You swallow hard “Yeah.”

Finally, he lifts his head, eyes bloodshot but focused on you “Why?”

You hesitate, because the real answer feels too heavy to say out loud. Because if I stay, I’ll break apart. Because the ache in your chest is unbearable, and you don’t know how to exist in this world without Ace in it.

Instead, you say, “I don’t have anywhere else to go... No one to go to.”

Luffy flinches, but you know he understands. He’s feeling it too.

His jaw tightens “You… you have me. You don’t have to go.”

You kneel in front of him, forcing a small smile “You have your crew, Luffy. They’re coming back to you. But me…” Your voice wavers, and you hate it “I need time.”

Luffy stares at you for a long moment before exhaling shakily “Ace really loved you, y’know.”

Your breath catches.

Luffy grips his hat and presses it to his forehead “So that means you’re like my sister-in-law,” he mumbles, voice thick with emotion “And I protect my family.”

Your vision blurs. You clench your fists to stop your hands from shaking.

“Luffy…”

He looks at you, his expression serious in a way you rarely see “You’re always gonna be my family. Don't forget it. You can come to me whenever you want and need to.”

The words nearly break you.

You force yourself to smile, even if it wobbles “Then you better take care of yourself, little brother.”

His lip trembles, but he nods “You too.”

You take a deep breath, memorizing the sight of him, before finally standing.

Law is waiting, watching silently as you step aboard. You don’t look back.

“That was dramatic” he mutters once you’re beside him.

You huff a weak laugh, hiding your tears “Shut up.”

He doesn’t push you for more, just nods toward the submarine’s entrance “Come on, Y/N-ya. We’re leaving.”

And with that, the Heart Pirates set sail, and you leave the past behind.

The Polar Tang is… different. Not in a bad way, just different. It’s quieter than the Moby Dick, smaller, and runs a lot smoother since it’s a submarine. The crew is nice enough, but they watch you carefully, like they’re waiting to see if you’ll actually stick around, and like they're afraid to say the wrong things.

You don’t blame them. You’re still trying to figure all that out yourself.

What you do know is that you’re not wearing that.

“Absolutely not,” you say, holding up the black and yellow jumpsuit like it personally offended you “There is no way I’m wearing this.”

Penguin grins “Aw, c’mon, it’s tradition! We all wear them.”

“Yeah, and you all look dumb.” You toss the uniform back at him.

Shachi snickers “She’s got a point.”

Bepo tilts his head “But it helps with unity!”

“I don’t care.” You cross your arms “I just lost my last family. I’m not replacing them by playing dress-up with you guys.”

There’s a heavy beat of silence. You didn’t mean to let that slip, but it’s too late now.

Penguin and Shachi exchange glances, suddenly looking unsure. Bepo’s ears lower slightly.

Before anyone can say anything, Law’s voice cuts through the air.

“She doesn’t have to wear it.”

You turn to see him leaning against the wall, arms crossed. His gaze flicks to the uniform in Penguin’s hands before settling back on you “As long as she follows orders, it doesn’t matter what she wears.”

You smirk, triumphant but still hiding the regrets of your previous words “See? Captain’s orders.”

Penguin groans “Man, you’re getting special treatment already?”

Law clicks his tongue “Tch. Don’t be stupid. She’s not getting special treatment.” He pushes off the wall and starts walking away “Now get back to work.”

The others grumble but scatter, leaving you standing there, still holding your ground.

Law pauses at the doorway, glancing at you over his shoulder “You really will be following orders, though.”

You roll your eyes “Yeah, yeah, Captain. You don't have to repeat it again.”

He watches you for a second longer before walking away.

You exhale, shoulders slumping. You still don’t know if this was the right choice. But for now, you’re here and that’s enough.

Days pass, then weeks. You settle into life on the Polar Tang, though settle might be a strong word. You’re still figuring out your place here, still deciding if this is home or just a temporary stop before the sea pulls you somewhere else.

The Heart Pirates warm up to you quickly, especially Penguin and Shachi, who have made it their mission to pester you at every opportunity. Bepo is a sweetheart, and you swear Ikkaku enjoys giving you extra work just to see if you’ll complain.

And then there’s Law.

Your relationship with him is… strange. He’s your captain now, and he makes sure you don’t forget it. He orders you around, assigns you tasks, and corrects you whenever you mess up. But he also lets you push back more than he probably should.

Like now.

“You’re not getting out of training, Y/N-ya,” Law says, arms crossed as he watches you from across the room “You’re part of this crew, which means you need to be able to hold your own.”

You sigh, sitting cross-legged on the floor, pointedly not moving “I can hold my own.”

“You haven’t fought once since you got here.”

“That’s not true. I threw a wrench at Shachi last week.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“It should.”

Law pinches the bridge of his nose “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it.” The words slip out before you can stop them, and for a second, Law freezes.

You don’t know why your heart starts beating faster. You don’t know why it suddenly feels like the room is too small, too quiet.

Then, he scoffs “Tch. Keep dreaming.”

You smirk, pushing yourself up “Fine, fine. I’ll train. But only because I choose to.”

Law rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue.

As you walk past him, you can feel his gaze lingering on you for just a second too long, and for some reason, that makes it just a little easier to breathe.

It's another day with them and dinner is as loud as always. Penguin and Shachi are arguing over who gets the last piece of meat, Bepo is calmly eating his food, and Ikkaku is scolding someone about their table manners. It’s chaotic, messy, and full of life.

You should feel comforted by it.

But then, Shachi laughs, almost losing another game “Doesn’t matter what happens, we’ll figure it out! That’s just how we are, right? We don’t let anyone mess with our family.”

It’s innocent. Just a casual statement made as a joke for a game. But your whole body freezes.

We don’t let anyone mess with our family.

The words slam into you like a punch to the gut. You’ve heard them before. Ace used to say them all the time.

“Nobody messes with my family and gets away with it!”

Your breath catches.

You see Ace in your mind so clearly, grinning, full of warmth and unwavering confidence. His arm draped over your shoulders, his voice always so sure.

“You’re stuck with me, you know. You’re family.”

The sound of laughter around you distorts. Your hands tremble against the table. Your chest tightens so hard it hurts.

Ace said those words all the time, and now he’s gone.

Your vision blurs.

You push your chair back so fast it screeches against the floor.

The room falls silent.

“Y/N-ya?” Law’s voice is cautious, but you can’t answer.

You stand abruptly, shoving away from the table as the weight in your chest becomes unbearable.

You hear Bepo call after you, but you’re already moving, already pushing out the door before anyone can stop you.

The hallway is quiet, but it doesn’t help. Your heart is pounding, your breathing uneven. The walls feel like they’re closing in.

You don’t know where you’re going, just away.

But then...

“Y/N-ya.”

Law.

His voice is calmer than it should be, given the fact that you just stormed out in the middle of dinner. You hear his footsteps behind you, steady and deliberate. He doesn’t rush, doesn’t demand you stop, but you do.

Because you don’t want to be alone.

You lean against the cool metal wall, staring at the ground, swallowing down the sobs threatening to escape.

Law steps beside you, close enough that his presence is solid, grounding. He doesn’t speak right away, just waits.

After a moment, you exhale shakily “Ace used to say that.” Your voice is hoarse “What Shachi said. About family. I know Shachi was joking, it's not his fault. My mind just started thinking too much, again.”

Law is silent, but you know he’s listening.

You blink rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay “Ace always said it like nothing could ever touch us. Like as long as we had each other, we’d be okay.”

Your voice cracks.

“But we weren’t. We obviously aren’t.”

And then, suddenly, you can’t hold it in anymore.

The sob breaks free before you can stop it, and then another. Your shoulders shake as you clutch your arms, as if holding yourself together.

Then you feel warmth.

A hand on your back. Firm, steady. Not pushing, just there.

Law doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t move away either. He lets you cry, lets you break, without judgment or expectation.

And when your knees nearly give out, he catches you, pulling you close, solid and steady, as if to say, I won’t let you fall. And for the first time since Marineford, you let yourself lean on someone else.

A few months passed…

Of course, things don’t magically get better. That’s not how grief works.

But they shift. Slowly. Subtly.

The crew doesn’t bring up that night you ran out of dinner crying, not directly. But you notice how they’re a little gentler now. Bepo always sits next to you. Penguin and Shachi tease you a bit less (but only a bit), and Ikkaku throws you extra portions without saying a word.

They don’t push. They don’t ask. But they see you.

And Law hasn’t changed. Not exactly. He still gives out orders like commands are oxygen, still gets that narrowed-eye look when you mess up during training, and still acts like emotions are an inconvenience.

But you catch him watching you sometimes. When he thinks you’re not looking.

And when you do catch him, he doesn’t look away.

It’s a calm evening, which is rare. The Polar Tang is surfacing for the night, drifting peacefully on the open sea. You’re up on the deck, sitting cross-legged and staring at the stars, enjoying the breeze on your face.

Law’s voice breaks the silence.

“Not hiding in your room tonight.”

You glance over your shoulder. He’s standing a few feet behind you, arms crossed, gaze unreadable.

“I like it up here,” you say, shrugging “it’s quiet. The stars help.”

Law walks over without asking and sits beside you, not close enough to touch, but closer than usual.

You blink “No book tonight?”

He smirks faintly “Even I get tired of reading medical journals.”

You hum and tilt your head back to the sky “Do you ever think about how small we are out here?”

Law doesn’t answer right away “All the time.”

Silence again, but it’s not uncomfortable.

You pick at a loose thread on your pants, then quietly say, “It still hurts.”

“I know.”

You turn to look at him “Do you think it ever goes away?”

Law’s eyes flick to yours, and for a second, his walls drop.

“No,” he says simply “But you get better at carrying it.”

You nod slowly. That makes sense.

You both sit there, the silence stretching, stars spinning above.

Then he speaks again, quiet and careful “You’ve changed.”

You snort “Thanks?”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

You glance at him, surprised.

He’s looking out at the ocean now “When you came aboard, I didn’t think you’d last a week.”

You raise an eyebrow “Wow. Inspiring confidence, Captain.”

He smirks again, but it fades fast “But you stayed. Even after everything.”

“Because of you” you say before you can stop yourself.

Law looks at you, startled.

You feel heat rush to your cheeks but hold his gaze “You saved Luffy. You didn’t have to. And then you let me on your ship. You didn’t have to do that either.”

His voice is low “I didn’t do it for thanks.”

“I know. That’s why it mattered.”

There’s a long pause. Something unspoken crackling in the air between you.

You look back at the sea, heart pounding, trying to ignore how much you want him to say something, anything that will explain what’s been growing between you.

He doesn’t. Not yet.

But he doesn’t move away either.

And when his shoulder brushes yours, just slightly, you don’t pull back.

Two years.

That’s how long it’s been since you joined the Heart Pirates.

And somewhere between near-death missions, long nights on the sea, and quiet moments you didn’t ask for. Something changed.

You and Law changed.

It’s not loud or obvious. Not something you could put into words if someone asked. But it’s there.

Like the way his eyes always flick to you when he walks into a room.

Like how you always end up sitting beside him at meals, even without meaning to.

Like how his voice softens slightly when he says your name.

He still scolds you during training. Still sighs like you’re impossible when you ignore protocol.

And when you’re injured? He’s the first one kneeling at your side. Every time. Without fail.

You don’t talk about it. He doesn’t either.

But it’s real. It’s there. And everyone else knows it.

“Okay, seriously,” Shachi whispers one night as he leans over the dining table toward Penguin, “did you see the way they looked at each other earlier? Like... looked. That was something.”

Penguin nods “They’re either in love or telepathically plotting a murder.”

“I’m going with both” Ikkaku mutters, sipping her tea.

Bepo sighs “We’re not supposed to bring it up.”

“Why not?” Shachi hisses “They’re so obvious, it’s painful.”

“Because of Ace” Bepo says softly “She’s been through a lot. We won’t pressure her.”

That shuts everyone up for a beat.

Until Shachi mumbles “Still feels like they’re circling each other in slow motion.”

Ikkaku stabs a dumpling with unnecessary aggression “Just kiss already. I’m begging.”

You catch them watching you sometimes, too many times to pretend it’s subtle.

Whenever you and Law share a look, the whole room seems to pause.

Whenever he lingers a second too long beside you, or his hand brushes yours, the crew’s collective poker face fails miserably.

But Law ignores it all. Just keeps moving forward, like it doesn’t affect him.

Like he doesn’t know that your heart skips every time he calls your name in that low, measured tone.

And you pretend not to notice either. Pretend your stomach doesn’t twist when he leans in too close. Pretend you don’t feel the shift every time your eyes meet.

But in the quiet moments, when it’s just you and him, you feel something hanging there between you. Like something is building.

The unspoken thing between you and Law has only grown heavier by time. Stolen glances, the rare soft tone in his voice when he says your name, the way your hand always finds the spot next to his at the table.

You’ve gotten used to reading him, how to tell when he’s irritated, when he’s tired, when he’s secretly impressed. But now, something’s off.

He’s quiet lately. More than usual. Locked in his quarters for hours at a time. Studying maps, muttering things you can’t hear. And when you ask, he brushes it off with a flat “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

Which, of course, only makes you worry more.

One night, dinner is unusually tense.

Shachi and Penguin whisper from across the table, not even trying to hide it anymore.

“She’s gonna find out soon.”

“She already knows. Look at her face.”

“She knows something,” Bepo mutters “But she doesn’t know it’s Dressrosa.”

You set your spoon down “What’s Dressrosa?”

The table falls into silence.

Ikkaku winces “Damn it.”

You stare at them all “What’s happening?”

Nobody speaks.

So you stand, chair scraping behind you, and walk straight out of the mess hall.

You find Law in the control room, his face locked over a table full of charts. Dressrosa is circled in red.

He doesn’t flinch when you walk in.

You close the door behind you “You’re going there.”

He nods once “Yes.”

“You weren’t going to tell me.”

Law straightens up, but doesn’t meet your eyes “It’s not your concern.”

“It is my concern,” you snap “I’m your crew too, just like the rest of them.”

He finally looks at you “That’s exactly why you’re staying with them.”

There’s a long beat of silence. Just you and him, staring, and the space between you suddenly feels like a chasm.

“You’re doing it again” you say softly “Pulling away. Trying to protect everyone by shutting us out.”

Law’s expression flickers with guilt, regret and frustration.

“I’m handling it.”

“No, you’re running. You’re scared.”

“I’m not scared.”

“You're not scared...” You step closer, voice breaking “You’re terrified of letting people care about you. You think if you keep pushing us away, it won’t hurt when something happens.”

You lower your voice “But it will. It always does.”

He stares at you, like he’s waiting for you to stop.

You don’t.

“You think I don’t see what this is between us? You think I haven’t felt it for a long time now?”

He says nothing.

You take a breath “You’ve given me so much, Law. You gave me a second life after Ace. You gave me something to live for again.”

Your throat tightens “And now you’re just gonna disappear into some revenge mission and pretend like none of this matters?”

His eyes darken “It does matter.”

You blink “Then say it.”

Law opens his mouth, then closes it again.

You shake your head, heart cracking open “Forget it.”

You turn to leave.

But before you touch the door...

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he says behind you “That’s why I didn’t say anything.”

You stop. But you don’t look back.

You don’t sleep that night.

You lie in your bunk, staring at the ceiling, replaying every second of that conversation. The look in Law’s eyes. The silence where his answer should’ve been. The ache in your chest that’s only getting worse.

When you hear footsteps above deck a little before dawn, you know it’s him.

You throw on a jacket and follow without thinking.

He’s there, standing at the edge of the deck, the sea wind catching his coat. Alone.

He turns slightly when you approach “You should be asleep.”

“You should be explaining yourself.”

His mouth twitches. A ghost of a smile. Gone in an instant.

You cross your arms “You were really gonna leave without saying goodbye.”

Law looks ahead again, gaze fixed on the horizon “Goodbyes make it harder.”

You take a breath “Harder for who?”

Silence.

You step beside him, close enough that your shoulder brushes his arm “I meant what I said yesterday.”

“I know.”

“And?”

He exhales slowly “You shouldn’t love someone like me.”

Your heart lurches “You don’t get to decide that.”

“I’m not who you think I am.”

“I know who you are,” you snap “I’ve seen you save strangers without blinking. I’ve seen you risk your life for your crew. For Luffy. For me.”

You pause, voice low “I love all of that. And if you leave now, and something happens to you—”

You look at him fully now “Don’t make me lose someone else I love, Law. Not without even getting to hold onto you first.”

His jaw tightens. He says nothing.

So you laugh, bitter and soft “Of course. You don’t say anything you don’t think you deserve to feel.”

You start to turn away, tears building, when he says “I do.”

You freeze.

He’s looking at you now. Fully. No mask.

“I do feel it. All of it.”

He steps forward, slow and certain, until he’s close enough that you can see the storm in his eyes and hear the quiet panic in his breath.

“Every time you laugh. Every time you sit next to me without saying a word. Every time I catch myself looking at you and don’t know how to stop. I feel it.”

Your lips part, but you don’t speak. You can’t.

“I didn’t want to,” he says, voice barely above a whisper “But it happened. And now I don’t know how to leave without feeling like I’m leaving part of myself behind.”

Your throat burns.

“So don’t,” you whisper “Don’t leave like that. Not with nothing.”

He hesitates.

Then, he leans in slowly, unsure, and presses his forehead to yours.

Not a kiss. Not yet. But it says everything.

“I’ll come back,” he promises “And when I do… if you’re still here—”

“I will be.”

A breath passes between you. His hand brushes your cheek like he’s still convincing himself you’re real.

Then he pulls away.

“Stay safe” he says.

“You too, Law.”

And with one last glance, he disappears down the dock, coat billowing, heart heavy, and not just with revenge anymore.

The moment your feet hit the ground of Zou, you’re paralyzed. The chaos of the crew bustling around you, the excitement in the air, everything feels too loud. It’s all too much. You’ve been bracing for this moment for what feels like an eternity, but now that it’s here, you can’t breathe.

You’ve heard the whispers that he’s finally back, felt the crew’s excitement bubbling up like they’re about to burst. But nothing could prepare you for the reality of seeing him alive. You knew they won, you knew he was out there, somewhere, but seeing him in front of you again… it’s different.

Your heart races. The crew is already moving forward, pulling you along because you’re too shocked to even move on your own. They don’t even try to hide it, they want to see this happen.

And then there he is.

The crew appears from the bushes and trees around him.

Law stands tall at the center of the clearing, his eyes scanning the crew as they move toward him, his usual cold demeanor barely cracked by the soft, almost imperceptible smile on his lips as he sees Bepo charging toward him before he could even find you with his eyes. The sight of him makes everything inside you freeze.

It’s not that you didn’t know he was alive, but now, standing here, seeing him with your own eyes, it feels real.

Bepo throws himself at Law, tears in his eyes as he cries out, “Captain!” The hug is tight, emotional, the kind of reunion you would have imagined, one that speaks of the bond between them, of loyalty and friendship. Law’s arms stiffen at first but then soften, holding Bepo close, the smile on his face genuine if not a bit awkward.

You stand there, caught in the wave of emotions that’s rushing through you. Relief, yes, but something else too...fear. Fear of what this means. You haven’t let yourself think about it that much, but now, with him standing there before you, something shifts. It’s the first time in two years you feel your heart thundering like it did when you first met him, when you started noticing those little things about him, the quiet ways he showed his care.

But now… he’s here.

Bepo pulls back, laughing through his tears “I’m so glad you’re alive, Captain!”

Before Law can even respond, someone else, maybe Ikkaku, maybe Shachi, pulls Bepo away gently, guiding him back to the group.

And then Law finally sees you.

There’s a moment, a breath of time where you feel like the whole world is holding its breath. You didn’t expect the distance between you to feel so large. You didn’t expect to feel so small.

You stand still, unsure of what to do, your legs suddenly heavy, like they’re made of stone. You know the crew, everyone, is watching, but none of that matters right now. You’re looking at him, really seeing him for the first time in so long, and it feels like everything inside you is falling apart.

He hasn’t changed. He still has that same unreadable expression, but something about the way he looks at you now is different. His eyes linger, and in them, you see the same thing you’ve always seen, quiet intensity. But there’s a softness now, a faint warmth.

You don’t move.

You can’t move.

It’s not fear. It’s… shock. You thought you were ready. You thought you were prepared. But seeing him here, right in front of you, it’s more than you can process in a single moment. The flood of emotions, the relief, the joy, the terror, all rush through you all at once, and it feels overwhelming. You never realized how much you needed this, how much you’ve missed him, until now.

And then, slowly, Law begins to walk toward you, his movements steady, calculated, like he’s taking his time, giving you space. When he stops in front of you, there’s a long pause. His eyes are searching your face, studying you, like he’s waiting for something. You’re afraid to look into them, to let him see how much you’ve been holding back.

And then, softly, he speaks “I didn’t think you’d be here.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and you finally look up into his eyes. You open your mouth to respond, but no words come. The relief is too much. The pain of missing him, of not knowing if you’d ever see him again, it all comes crashing down, and before you can stop it, a tear slips down your cheek.

Law’s eyes flicker to it, and without a second thought, he reaches out, his hand gently brushing it away “You don’t have to hide it” he says, his voice low and careful.

“I—” You try to speak, but your voice cracks. You can’t say what you need to. It’s too much. Everything is too much.

Law stands there, his hand still lingering near your cheek, and you can feel the weight of the moment pressing down on both of you. He doesn’t push. He doesn’t rush. He just stands there, waiting for you to breathe, for you to find your voice.

And when you finally do, it’s quiet “I thought I lost you. I—I didn’t know if I could—”

“You didn’t lose me.” His words are simple, but they cut through the noise in your head. He steps closer, his hand sliding from your cheek to rest gently on your shoulder, the contact grounding you “I’m here. I told you I would be.”

And in that moment, you let yourself believe it.

You don’t know what’s going to happen from here, but for the first time in a long while, you feel like you’re not standing alone anymore. Law is here, and he’s not going anywhere.

Zou is loud again.

After the quiet weight of seeing Law alive, after the press of his hand on your shoulder, after the whirlwind that followed, now everything is moving. New plans are forming. Straw Hats talking over each other. Heart Pirates buzzing about what’s next. Minks giving updates. It’s chaos. Familiar chaos. The kind you hadn’t realized you missed.

You find Luffy just outside one of the tree dwellings, scarfing down food like he hasn’t eaten in weeks, which, to be fair, is probably true.

“Luffy” you say, your voice unsure but soft.

He looks up, mouth full “Y/n!” He jumps to his feet and wraps you in the kind of hug only Luffy can give, tight, fast, and a little chaotic “You’re okay! You’re really here!”

You nod against his chest, your throat tight “You too…”

“Of course I am!” he grins like it’s the most obvious thing in the world “I knew we’d all meet again. I told you!”

He pulls back and beams at you “We’re gonna get Sanji back. Me, Nami, Chopper and Brook. You should come too! With me!”

You freeze.

Your eyes dart past the Straw Hats, past the Heart Pirates, until they land on him. Law is leaning near a shaded post, arms crossed, watching the scene from a distance. You can feel his eyes on you.

You start to answer Luffy, but someone else cuts in.

“She’s not going.”

It’s Law.

He’s walking toward you both now, slow and steady, like the decision was already made before this conversation even started.

Luffy blinks “Huh?”

Law stops beside you, his shoulder brushing lightly against yours “She’s staying with me. With the Heart Pirates.”

You look up at him, startled. You hadn’t even told him you would yet. But he’s not looking at you, he’s looking straight at Luffy.

Nami steps closer, eyebrows raised like she knows exactly what’s going on “Luffy, read the room…”

Luffy blinks again, slowly turning to you “Wait. What? Since when?”

You open your mouth, but the words don’t come.

“I—” You shake your head “I was going to tell you. I just… I didn’t know how.”

“Why not?” Luffy tilts his head, confused as ever “You like Law, right?”

Your eyes widen “Luffy…”

“It’s fine,” he says with a shrug “I mean, I get the way you’re looking at him right now. I just didn’t know it was, you know… like that like that.” He grins.

You stare at him, stunned “You’re not… mad?”

“Why would I be mad?” he says, blinking like the very idea is weird “You think Ace would be mad?”

You swallow hard, throat tightening at the mention of Ace’s name.

“I just...” Your voice cracks “I didn’t want to disappoint him. Or you. He… he loved me. And I loved him. And I didn’t think I’d ever be able to—”

“Y/n.”

Luffy’s voice is soft. Even softer than usual.

He smiles again, big and warm and bright “Ace would be happy. Really happy. Because you’re not alone anymore. He wouldn’t want you to be.”

You blink fast, trying to keep the tears back, but it’s no use “You really think so?”

“I know so,” Luffy says, tapping his chest “Because Ace told me you were the best thing that ever happened to him. He said if anything ever happened to him, I had to take care of you. You found someone who can take care of you even better than me, and I’ll always support you like my sister.”

That breaks something in you. You cover your mouth with your hand, trying not to cry outright.

Nami steps up beside Luffy, resting a hand on your back “He’s right, you know. We’ve all known for a while now. About you and Law. After we met Law and Luffy asked him about you, it was pretty obvious even if the man here has the most unreadable face. It’s just Luffy that is always too oblivious.”

Law, still at your side, hasn’t said a word. But his presence is steady, anchoring. His eyes stay on you.

Luffy grins and throws his arm over your shoulder, dragging you into another hug “I’m happy for you, Y/n. And Ace would be too.”

You press your face against his chest again, this time not hiding the tears “Thank you.”

Law leans in slightly, his voice low near your ear “You didn’t have to be scared.”

You glance up at him, smiling through your tears “I know. But it still scared me.”

“I get it,” he says “But you don’t have to worry. And you can talk to me about your fears, I won’t leave you alone.”

And somehow, for the first time, you believe it.

The sun is dipping behind the massive trees of Zou, painting everything in golden light. The others are gone now, off to find Sanji. The moment they disappeared over the horizon, the world got quiet again.

Too quiet.

You sit at the edge of the overlook, watching the sky shift from orange to deep indigo. The wind brushes through your hair, soft and cool. You hug your knees to your chest, letting yourself breathe for what feels like the first time in days.

And then you hear his footsteps behind you.

“You’re always out, watching the sky when it gets dark” Law says, voice even.

You don’t look at him, not yet “It’s peaceful. Beautiful. Easier to think.”

He stands beside you for a second, silent, then sits down next to you with a small sigh. The space between you hums. Not touching, but not distant either.

You glance over. His hat’s off. That always does something to you. Makes him look realer. Softer. More… him.

“You really told Luffy I was staying with you” you say, a small smile tugging at your lips “Didn’t even bother ask me.”

“You were going to stay anyway” he replies, tilting his head toward you.

“I might’ve,” you murmur, teasing “Might’ve said no. Might’ve gone off on my own. Who knows.”

He looks at you, dead serious “You wouldn’t.”

You meet his eyes “How do you know?”

“Because you’ve looked at me the same way I look at you. You wouldn’t want to separate again.”

Your breath catches.

The silence after that is thick, like the air itself is holding its breath with you.

“I was scared,” you whisper “Of what it meant. Of what it felt like. After Ace… I didn’t think I was allowed to feel this way again.”

“I know,” Law says, just as quietly “That’s why I never pushed.”

You look down at your hands “But you stayed.”

His voice is steady “I wasn’t going to be another person you lost.”

That’s when your heart cracks, but in a good way. The dam you’ve been holding back breaks just a little. You turn to him, really look at him. The way the fading light touches his face, the faint worry in his brow, the way he’s looking at you like you’re everything.

“Say it,” you breathe “Just once.”

Law doesn’t hesitate “I love you.”

And you’re already leaning in by the time he says the last word.

The kiss is slow and gentle. His hand cups the side of your face, thumb brushing your cheek. Yours clutches his coat, grounding yourself.

It’s not desperate. It’s relieved.

When you finally pull back, your forehead rests against his, both of you a little breathless.

You whisper “I love you too.”

He smirks “You were worth the wait.”

Your smile widen and just as his small smile/smirk.

“FINALLY!”

You both flinch apart like you were struck by lightning.

Law whips around, eyes narrowing “What the hell—”

From behind a cluster of bushes near the edge of the clearing, three heads pop out in rapid succession: Shachi, Penguin, and Ikkaku. Bepo follows a second later, way too big to be hiding, but he tries anyway.

“We knew it!” Shachi shouts.

“I said it would happen today!” Penguin crows, fist-pumping like he just won a bet.

“I told you she was gonna make the first move” Ikkaku says smugly.

“You literally did not” Penguin says.

Bepo tries to look innocent “I was just... uh... making sure they were okay…”

You bury your face in your hands, heat flooding your cheeks “Oh my god!”

Law groans, dragging a hand down his face “How long were you there?”

“Long enough” Ikkaku grins.

“To hear everything” Shachi adds.

“I hate all of you” Law mutters.

“Don’t lie to us, Captain,” Penguin says, smug “You’re glowing.”

“I am not glowing.”

“You kind of are” Bepo mumbles.

You let out a breathy laugh, cheeks still flushed, but honestly, it’s kind of perfect. This dumb, messy, ridiculous crew, you didn’t know how badly you needed them until they showed up in your life. Until he showed up in your life.

“Alright,” Law snaps, pushing to his feet and brushing off his coat, “You saw what you wanted. Now go. Before I use Room.”

That gets them moving fast.

Shachi and Penguin scramble like cockroaches, dragging Bepo behind them while Ikkaku throws a wink over her shoulder “You’re cute together! Don’t screw it up!”

They disappear, giggling like kids.

You turn back to Law, trying not to laugh “So… that happened.”

He sighs, but there’s the faintest smile tugging at his lips “We’re never gonna hear the end of it.”

“Nope.”

A pause.

“…Still worth it?” you ask, teasing.

He glances at you. And then, softly “Always.”

[sl-vega]

[💜] HALLWAY CRUSH! - karasu tabito

✮⋆˙ just headcanons/some short drabbles about how karasu would be if he had a hallway crush on you

-> cw/additional notes; fluff, potentially ooc, hcs/drabbles, gn! reader, super short, trying out this new hc format that i've been seeing a lot! (esp by my wonderful mutual @kenyuukissme <3)

dividers by @aquazero

Thinking about KARASU TABITO with a hallway crush that reduces him to the most lovesick, pathetic, person ever-not that he lets anyone catch onto that.

No, he's way too clever (and too proud) to show that he's actively messing up his schedule just to see you every chance he can get.

"Yeah man, can we head this way? I forgot something in one of the music rooms upstairs." Varying versions of this excuse would always fall on his friends ears, he would purposefully leave something somewhere, and he'd drag his friend of choice with him, just for a brief glance at you.

He memorized bits of your schedule, yhabits, your homeroom, your locker. Not that he was a stalker per se, he was just observant. Especially when it came to pretty faces that caught his eye in the halls (again, not that he would ever admit it.)

His little infatuation is something of a guilty pleasure he indulges in every now and then. Letting his gaze linger a little longer on you when no one was watching. Getting a bit too close so your shoulders would brush every time he passed by. He was becoming a mediocre puppy like fool all because of a pretty face, it was rather pathetic.

Scratch that, it was very pathetic, and yet he can't help being so drawn to you, so enamoured, so absolutely and utterly entranced by your mere being. He can easily pick your voice from a crowd, and oh how he loathes it.

He's a bit cynical about love, most of the couples he saw in passing at school hardly ever made it past a year, much less past graduation. He was focused on becoming the very best, he didn't have time to explore a stupid hallway crush.

And yet every glance, every hopeful wish that maybe, just maybe, you would one day look his way, has him falling even harder and faster. And if you actually talked to him?

Lord, he'd be done for.

lmao, I actually quite like this style for HCS/drabbles, helps me get my ideas out quickly and easily without a single oneshot rotting in my drafts for MONTHS on end

🍓 tagging: @shrii-kk @freyao7 @analiee6 @thetwinkims @bellflower1257 @blvdmrcnry @bloukoup @yuan1819 @fishii28 @yourstrulymauki @fungaltoehehe

[cowpokemythology]

immortal he, return to me.

playlist pairing: ghost!jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader word count: 8.8k description: the sea swallowed your heart the day it took your husband to a watery grave, two lives cruelly ripped away by the stranger's greedy hands. but, you should've known, he was too stubborn to stay away for long. tags: angst, smut (18+), lots of grief, mentions of canon-typical violence, gore?, spoilers for fire & blood/s3, lots of talk of death and the supernatural, inconsistent and unclear ghost lore because it's just vibes. a/n: this is my first fic, please bear with me. ALSO first time writing smut, sorry if it's cringe as hell. also, sorry it took me ten million years, life kept me busy. from here on out, i will not tease with false promises of release dates lmao. the quote in the beginning is from paradise lost by milton.

“our state cannot be severed, we are one, one flesh; to lose thee were to lose myself." 

The beaches of Dragonstone crawled with winter’s mist and your Jacaerys was dead.

He had promised you a safe return. 

You’d stopped him before he’d left that morning. Pleading, a hand clasping one of his own. The way his calluses, worn from swordplay and dragon riding than any real work, brushed against your skin is still imprinted into your memory. You do not know why your mind clung to this empty detail. Perhaps, you knew even then, that this would be the last time you’d see your husband. 

Your touch had been gentle, easy for him to break through if he wished to brush past. He’d stopped for you, though. When his honeyed eyes had met yours, they were softened. 

“My love…” He’d murmured, a low lilt. The way he moves back into your orbit almost makes you believe that there’s an invisible tether, endlessly tugging you back into each other.

He raises your hand to his plush lips, brushing them across the ridges of your knuckles. His other slides around your waist, melding to the small of your back and drawing you close. The familiar smell of cedar and dragon smoke envelops you, something so uniquely Jacaerys that he never could wash away. The warm lines of your bodies pressed against each other. Your chemise is a flimsy barrier between the heat of him, the blood of the dragon. You’d always privately thought that if anyone could simply feel how warm he was, that any barb of bastardry would be swallowed. You could still feel it through his thick doublet.

Your heart hurts with his affection, worry carved into every crevice of your face. If you could, you would tug him back into bed. If he was entwined with you, beneath the safety of your furs, he would face no danger. You would keep your sweet boy with constellations of freckles and raw umber eyes and he, in turn, would keep you.

You were too old, now, to hide like children.

He sees this, of course he does. He speaks before you can put voice to the multitudes of protests on the tip of your tongue.

“I must go.” He tells you, the words whispered against the back of your hand. You see the resignation in his expression, the trepidation. But a fire burns there too. One that has been raging since he’d returned from the North to a keep bereft of Lucerys’ laughter. 

He’s been hungry for this, to fight, to avenge his brother, to win back what his mother had had stolen, to prove himself to those who sneer at his parentage. He’s been reeling against the council for months to put him to use. That much, you can understand. You cannot rebuke his going, however you can’t help but lament over the peril of it all. 

“I know…” You reply in a resigned breath, your eyes memorizing everything about his form.

He hums in response. His hand releases yours in favor of cupping your cheek, you can feel his warmth branding your skin. You lean into the touch as if you’re freezing. He gently drops his head to slant his mouth over yours, not yet a kiss.

“I will return to you, you must know that. I do not think even the Stranger himself could keep me from you.” Jacaerys whispers against your lips. It was a promise of the cosmic kind, but uttered with the naivety and assuredness of youth. You were both hardly twenty, you had lives stretched out for leagues in front of you. It did not seem plausible, then, for such strong lights to be extinguished. 

“Do not tempt him.” You murmur in response, a furrow in your brow. You’ve never been pious, but this day was as good as any to be superstitious.

The puff of breath that leaves him is amused and then he’s kissing you. 

His mouth is pillowed against yours. You respond to it eagerly, eyes fluttering shut as you melt into him. Soft hands curl into his padded doublet, pressing yourself so close it seems you’re trying to meld your body to his. And maybe you were. If you could, you’d thought you’d make a home for yourself in his ribs and stay there for all eternity. His hands flex slightly around your waist, a pleased noise leaving his throat.

You try to pour your prayers to him through your lips, to imbue him with safety. He kisses you as he always does; sweet, gentle, and all-consuming. There is a withheld passion in him that sets you aflame. He makes your body buzz and your blood sing.

The kiss does not last nearly long enough. Dark ochre eyes flutter open to meet yours, his lashes like those of a doe’s. Jacaerys has always been heart-achingly beautiful. Every bit of him, perfectly sculpted by the loving hands of unforgiving gods. You wondered if they’d regretted it, if they’d melded his cupid’s bow and carved out sharp shoulder blades and decided that this beauty was to be ephemeral.

“Come home to me.” You breathe out, beseeching him with your gaze.

Jace’s gentle smile in return is woefully disarming. His thumbs brush over your hips, as if he too, were memorizing the feel of you. The way the pads of his fingers catch on your nightdress make you shiver. He presses a final, gentle, kiss to your forehead.

“I love you.” The words are pressed into your skin.

His warm hands retract from you regretfully, like waves receding from a stalwart shore. His eyes take you in for a moment more before, in a turn of red velvet, he’s gone. The thud of the mahogany door shutting behind him is a resounding omen of sealed fate.

-

When the dragonseeds do return, their heads are hung low in face of their costly victory. Your husband was not among them, nor was his steed. It seems the dragons sensed the loss as keenly as their riders. The scaly beasts seemed deflated, mournful. Far less proud than how they’d left, with a true dragon prince at their helm. Their chuffs are low, quiet. Everything was stilted, heavy. The stench of sulfur and the sharp tang of iron that hung in that room has not left you since.

It is Addam of Hull who tells you. He kindly takes your arm, guiding you a short distance away. With your heads bent towards each other; he tells you of your husband’s bravery, his strength, and his fate. Of bolts embedded in tender flesh, numb fingers grasping to ship wood, and the blood of the dragon returning to the salt of the sea. 

Many eyes, draconic and human alike, averted their gazes as a raw cry tore itself from your throat. Your hands clawed at your chest for a heart that no longer existed. It lay at the bottom of the sea, with so many other sunken wrecks and bones.

-

The light has gone out of your life. The world around you is grayed and dull, the fog and winter clouds invade in his absence.

You have not known life without Jacaerys, and that remains true even now. You’d been at each other’s sides since the glow of youthful infancy, to the awkward, jutting limbs of adolescence, to the shining pride of (what you could barely call) adulthood. The yarn of your fates, your souls, were intertwined. Together, you formed a tapestry that was supposed to tell the tale of a prosperous king and queen. You knew him better than you knew yourself. You knew his skin was as soft as downy petals, the smell of the oils you’d run through his curls each night, the way his warmth bled into you, and how his smile felt pressed into your collarbone. 

You knew his kindness in the way he’d pressed daisies into your palms as children, you knew his strength in the way he wielded steel easier than breathing, you knew his frustrations in the tick of a jaw over a comment of dark tresses, and you knew his tears; hidden away in privacy. You knew the way they’d shimmer in his eyes until he could not withhold them any longer, the defeat in a downturned head as the first droplet slid down his cheek. You’d hoped he’d always know the feel of your lips as you kissed them away and kept them close to your heart.

You would never kiss him again. Nor would you ever know him, feel him.

Without him, you’ve withered, more phantom than woman. 

You did not leave your bed for two weeks. It is a sea you drown in. It’s much too vast without another body to keep it warm. You shiver despite the furs piled upon you and you hardly ever find sleep. When you do rest, it is fitful, light, or forced by exhaustion. If you’d had the capacity to think of it, you would’ve been surprised that you did not drown in your tears.

You keep your curtains closed. Gone are the days when you invited a welcome sea breeze to billow through your rooms, there was no longer a Velaryon prince to share in it. You refused to lay eyes upon the endless azure blanket that had stolen your breath from your lungs. 

It was much like a tomb, your rooms. It was shrouded in constant darkness. You did not even permit a lit candle or hearth. You would not feel any more warmth, even should your chambers set alight with you inside. All comfort seemed to be extinguished with the soul of Jacaerys.

There was a constant pain in your chest, an ache where your heart used to reside. It was bleeding, seeping out of your every pore. It was so empty yet the weight that pressed upon you was greater still. It was difficult to breathe without him. This weight kept you lying, motionless, in a bed that was now only yours.

 It took all the energy you had to force some of the food your handmaiden brought you down your throat. It all crumbled like ash in your mouth. 

At first, the sobs that had racked your body had hurt your ribs. No comforting hand of a maester or handmaiden could rouse you from these fits of grief. It felt pathetic but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Who could blame you? You’ve lost part of yourself. You’d never hurt so much.

It came in fits. Lots of your time was spent in a haunted daze. Unseeing eyes gazing at a wall or ceiling, hands tangled in furs drawn up to your chin. It was as if your mind refused to live in a world without Jacaerys in it, therefore it would not take part in it. The passage of time meant little. You would wake and soon it was nightfall again, another day spent bleeding out in bed as you stared at uncaring stone. 

You can see the concern shining in the eyes of your maids. You can hear them murmuring to each other as they prepare your chambers, when they think you sleep. About your ashen skin, your frailing body, of the heartache that has drained every bit of life from you. 

At some point, and you really can’t remember when, you’d drug one of his old cloaks to bed with you. It had been in a moment of haziness in your grieving stupor, a late night when a storm raged not just in your heart, but outside the walls of Dragonstone. Your bare feet had drug across the floor with a soft scrape, leading you to his old wardrobe. A cloak, of deep crimson, found its way into your hands. It was an old one, one he had not donned for some time. But it was soft and weighted in your hands. Sheltered amongst his other dressings, it smelt distinctly of him. Of rosemary oil, old cedar, the smell of Vermax’s scales, and the underlying hint of the specific musk that clung to his skin. The fabric has not left your hands ever since.

You distinctly remember a time, in recent memory, when he’d returned late to your chambers from flying with Vermax. He’d left for the dragonmount with a tick in his jaw and a deep furrow in his brow, frustrated by his perceived coddling by those at the council and his own mother. Sometimes, there was a restlessness in him that not even you could settle. You knew, far too well by now, that it is a burden he must unleash in the sky. When he’d returned; his shoulders were unburdened, his curls windswept, his cheeks tinged with lasting nips from the air, and a small smile revealed a small dimple in his cheeks . A light sparkled in his eyes as he laid eyes on you, his wife.

You’d laughed as he swept you into his arms. You had soon wrinkled your nose and wriggled in his hold as he buried his face to your neck, his nose was still cold from outside. His curls tickled your chin and jaw, the smell of dragon was thick and cloying in your nostrils.

“At least wash first, Jacaerys. Your smell will transfer to me.” You’d huffed, exasperation laced with ever present affection. He’d merely hummed in response, a bright smile spreading against your skin. His arms pulled you even closer, melding your bodies together as he lent over you. He nipped lightly at the skin of your neck in retaliation, making you jolt in his arms. Any additional scolding died on your tongue as he brushed those sinful lips up your throat to smother your face in kisses. 

You would give anything to smell the heavy scent of cinders and sulfur on him again. He could smell of volcanic ash for the rest of your life and you would not care so long as he was breathing in your arms. You lay, prone with suffering, clutching the cloak to your chest. If you closed your eyes hard enough, you could almost pretend he was beside you again. Your tears soaked the fabric like blood seeping through gauze. The smell of him faded by the day, and you still refused to let go. Your face was pressed to the fabric, almost as if you wanted to smother yourself in it.

“Please, please, please.” You mouth into the red expanse, begging for a return of something that will never come.

You could only find sleep clutching the linens, like a child with a prized blanket or doll.

-

It is on the morn of the third week without him that you find the strength to leave your chambers. That is when he begins to come back to you. -

Since rising, you can hardly stand to be in the keep of Dragonstone. It is too empty. Barren. You drift the halls like a ghost, palored and untouchable. The twisting walls and damp darkness feel all too much like a crypt.

You have not seen the Queen since the news of her son’s death. The servants whisper to each other in fear, about the mother who has had all love burned away from her with the loss of her eldest. You do not try to go to her, you fear to lay eyes upon the woman Rhaenyra has become.

Baela is on the back of Moondancer more than ever before, flying the dragon to near exhaustion every day. You understand it, you can no longer stand the stifling labyrinth of the keep yourself.

That is why, today, you’ve taken to the beaches. 

You had scarcely allowed your handmaidens to run a comb through your tresses before you’d been up and moving. You’d thrown a woolen dress over your chemise and some shoes before abruptly departing, with his cloak slung over your shoulders like a blanket. You’d ignored the confused calls of your helpers, you’d apologize to them later. The walls had felt as if they were closing in on you, suffocating you. You’d remained in there too long. A moment longer, and you’d felt as if you’d be buried under ancient rubble. It’d caused a thick panic to seize your throat, you needed escape. You couldn’t breathe that stale air any longer.

You keep your eyes trained on the sand in front of you. You refuse to acknowledge the water, as if that would give it power over you. The sound of the sliding waves, coming, receding, and coming again, seemed to taunt you. You are glad for the heavy fog. It covers you like a shroud, hiding your heavy grief and sunken disposition to the eyes of all, including the gods.

The sea is greedy and unknowable. It has stolen from you, it mocks you. Yet, you cannot help but feel the nostalgia and comfort from the constant white noise. When it was sunny, he used to walk arm and arm with you along these very same shores.

The sand tracks your steps, a reminder of the breath that still fills your lungs and your blood still flowing through your veins. Even if you were missing your heart. The wind blows your hair around you, the occasional wisp of it brushing your cheek. The cold bit at your nose and cheeks, you kept the lower half of your face buried in the crimson cloak around your shoulders.

You do not know how long you walk for, you’re in a daze. You could have made entire laps around the isle and you would not notice. Your eyes flick up once, to gauge your surroundings, that’s when you see him.

And it is him. You know it is. You’d know him anywhere, even at this distance. It’s the faint outline through the fog, tousled curls, a billowing cloak, a lithe form. It makes you stop in your tracks, your breath evacuating your lungs. 

You’re left stunned. Your body doesn’t know what to do with itself. Your stomach drops and your heart hammers painfully in your chest. Your limbs are paralyzed. Your eyes are trained on him, chest scarcely moving with breath. You watch him as… he seems to be watching you. The world has frozen. Your body doesn’t know whether it should be afraid, hopeful, or some other third emotion.

Have you gone mad? Has your grief touched you so deeply that it has irrevocably harmed your mind? Your gut twists with the wrongness of it all, of this. He was dead, you knew this. The ocean holds its breath. You feel a sweat break out along your brow, alarm bells ringing in every section of your mind. And that isn’t right, this is your Jacaerys. That was him. It was him-

The tether that seems to immortally tie you together tugged at your heart, reeling you in like a fish on a line. Every fiber of your being buzzed with the urge to rush to him, to combine his sinews with your own so he might never leave you again. You want to cling to him so tightly that your nails would draw rivulets of fire and blood.

My love, my love, my love-

You shut your eyes tightly, taking three deep breaths. For an instant, the scent of cedar engulfs you so completely that it sucks the air from your lungs. There’s a brush of fingers across your cheek that causes your body to shudder, they are frigid. A faint whisper of a low, regal voice reaches you on the wind.

In a moment, it’s all gone.

 You open your eyes. There is no one around you. The fog is empty of all its secrets. The sea continues sighing as it always does. The smell of something earthy and pungent reaches your nose, the wind is picking up. A storm is on the horizon. 

You stand there for a moment longer, every sense searching for any trace of him.

When the rain starts, you’re forced to turn and pick your way back to the keep.

-

The storm that began when you left has not ceased, that does not stop you.

You keep coming back to that spot. Over and over and over again, hoping for just a glimpse of him, any hint.

You feel as if you’re going mad. You can feel him there, something of his presence. You know him, you would know him anywhere. He’s there, he’s here, somewhere. He’s trying to get back to you, like he promised.

And yet, you do not see another trace of him for a long while. You keep returning to the shore each day. It’s almost an obsession, the search. You pace around the beaches, heading down at dawn and only coerced to retreat at nightfall.

There is one day when you break down. You stare down the Narrow Sea with angry eyes. Your hands and chest tremble with the extent of it. Why won’t it reveal him to you again? Why must it take everything? Why must it withhold him?

You wade into the surf, despite the cold air around you. It laps at your calves. It begs for you to wade closer, to dive beneath it’s all knowing depths to drag your heart back to the surface. The laughing white tops dance and swirl, turning your legs numb only after a few moments.

In the turn of a moment, you snap. You curse, spit, and cry at the ocean. You kick and throw sand like a woman deranged. You hiss out venomous words of hatred and raving disgust. You beg and cry for your husband back. You offer the ocean anything it wants.

The outburst leaves your chest heaving. You slowly slide to your knees, sobs wracking your chest as the rain soaks your clothes… his cloak is heavy on your back. It almost feels like cool arms around you. The waves soak your dress, the push and pull of the tide causing your body to lull to and fro.

A knight of the Queensguard finds you just after sunset, still sitting where you collapsed. He thinks you are almost dead. Your hands tremble, lips blue, eyes glossy. Your whole body is wracked with powerful shivers, yet you hardly notice when he calls out to you. Your gaze is still trained on the dark ocean, waiting for any slight glimpse of brown hair or pale skin. -

Your efforts, it seems, are not in vain. You sense the traces of him constantly after that. 

One morning, you catch the tail end of his scent on your sheets. You spot a red flash of velvet turning down the hall, hear murmurings that sound strangely like his voice when you stand on your terrace, feel a caress on your cheek when you cry, feel the brush of curls under your chin when you try to rest at night combined with a heavy weight on your chest.

He is trying to come back to you, you know it. 

Every day he gets closer. -

You have not dreamt often since his death, but when you do it is always the same thing.

It begins with you falling. The air is so limitless that you think you might be flailing until you turn to dust. It is not dark, nor silent. The air is bright and you can see clouds above you. Around you, the screams of men, the roar of dragons, and splintering wood consumes your hearing. The smell of sulfur and burnt flesh makes your stomach turn.

Then you hit the water. Your body is wracked with pain from the impact, every limb stings. You’re stunned with shock and cannot move, sinking. You will drown here. Up and down are confused in your scrambled mind. When your lips part for air, water invades like a greedy interloper; filling your lungs and aiming to take your life. Your limbs flail and claw towards where the light shines down, reaching for you.

Finally, you break through the waves, coughing and sputtering. Your lungs heave with the exertion of spitting up water while simultaneously fighting to get air in. Legs kick beneath you to keep you afloat, though every movement shoots pain through you. When you hit the water, it felt like hitting hard earth. Your body burns, exhaustion begging you to just cease and let the sea claim you.

Adrenaline burns through your veins like fire. You cannot give up. You made a promise.

A piece of driftwood bumps into your side, a savior amongst the chaos. You cling to it, your hands shaking. If you could just hold on, hold out, you could make it back to her. What else could you possibly do? And Vermax… Oh, poor Vermax-

You don’t have the time to process your dear companions death before you feel some split through your shoulder. It jolts you forward, your chin smacking against the rough wreckage you hold onto. Then, the pain blooms through you- white hot. You grunt, your eyes screwing shut. It’s unlike anything you’ve felt before, it reaches deep within you and feels like it’s trying to break through to your chest. The wound throbs, radiating through your whole body. Blood gushed around the crossbow bolt in your back as if it was eager to jump in the water below. Before you can even think, another pain embeds itself in your lower back, making your muscles lock as you cry out. You lose control of yourself for a moment, your body slipping down your refuge. You dig your nails into the wet and decaying wood, splinters embedding themselves under your skin.

Something wet and warm fills your mouth, it tastes like iron, it dribbles down your chin like a drunkard's dribbling wine. It’s getting harder to hold on, your body fighting between survival and giving into the pain. But you must. You’ve no choice but to hold on. Someone will find you, someone will help-

You must make it back to your mother, your family, to your heart…

Something rips through your neck, cruel iron revealing red muscle to the world. Everything goes black. -

You wake choking. Your lungs take a few moments to suck in a full breath. You’re panting, lying on your side, Jace’s old cloak clutched in your fingers. In the darkness, the deep red seeps through your hands like his blood. Your eyes are cloudy with tears, a sob lodged in your throat. The recurring dream rarely lets you sleep through the night without grief. 

When you shift, you feel a warm arm around your waist, a body pressed at your back.

It makes you freeze, your veins turning to ice.

He notices this. He has always been so attuned to you. That remains so, even in death. A gentle shushing reaches your ears, a toned arm tightening around your side. Curls tickle your neck, his nose bumping against the hard bone of your shoulder.

“It’s alright, my love. It’s me, I promise.” The royal timbre of his voice brushes over your skin. And it’s so real… so tangible. You can feel him against you, his voice is right at your ear, and, when you look, you can see his arm around you… As if his death and these past months were all but an extended nightmare. 

Was it?

“Jace?” You breathe, voice wavering. You can almost taste your heart in your throat, your palms becoming clammy. You move to turn to face him but his grip around you tightens, holding you still.

“I don’t-” He stops. When he speaks again, it’s quiet. “I don’t wish for you to see me... like this.”

The words send a shiver down your spine, something like fear gripping your heart. Unease takes hold of you and you shift against him, breath picking up.

“What-” You start, still trying to wrap your mind around what was happening. He’d made his way back to you but what had happened? What did he mean?

Your words are cut off by the brush of lips over your skin, skimming across your shoulder. His lips are as plush as you remember. They brand themselves into your memory once again. It makes you shudder. He begins to press soft kisses to the crook of your neck.

“I am sorry it took me so long…” Jacaerys begins, his arm around you shifts so he can rub circles into your stomach. The touch causes your eyes to flutter shut, it was a familiar comfort. “But I’m back now. I swear, I will never leave you again.”

Your mind fights against itself. You struggle to even wrap your head around how he’s managed to appear like this when you’ve been trying to catch glimpses of him for weeks. On the one hand, you know he’s dead. He is not alive, he has not tried to convince you otherwise. What was he? Should you be indulging in something so… unnatural?

The other part of you begs all rationality to quiet. He was Jacaerys wasn’t he? Your heart, your husband… the person you’ve been begging to return to you. He has granted your wish, has he not? You are in no position to be picky about the way in which he has done it. You would know him even at the end of the world, deafened and blind, you’d know him.

The relief of his return is what ends up winning.

“I’ve missed you.” The words are reverently pressed against your skin, as if you were the Maiden and your body a place of worship. One arm slides under your body to hold you close as his other slides down to your hips, a cool hand brushing over your abdomen. Which was odd… how has the blood of the dragon cooled within him?

His kisses become more insistent, lips trailing across your pulse and your throat. When his teeth nip at the sensitive skin, you jerk against him. You’ve not been touched like this in such a long time, not since he’s left you. You feel the familiar stirring in your stomach, the desire for him. You're dazed, left breathless by his sudden return to you and the heat he is kindling under your skin.

“Missed you too… so much…” You whisper in response, your body being wound by his expert touches. It’s almost overwhelming. You’ve grieved painfully for him and now he was here… touching you.

You suck in a breath as he uses his teeth to tug your chemise sleeve down your shoulder. Jacaerys takes advantage of the open skin, left undisturbed since his absence. You can feel him almost trembling against you as he presses desperate kisses along wherever he can reach. The one arm tightens around your ribs, palm brushing underneath your chest. The other brushes along your abdomen, traveling along your thigh. He toys, dangerously, with the hem of your chemise. Despite the coolness of his skin, his touch brands you all the same. The faint smell of cedarwood and sea salt reaches your nose, filling your lungs. You're surrounded, held, by just him, him, him.

It hits you then, the bittersweetness of it all. He is here, but not as he was. He will never be your Jacaerys again. Here was his spectre, to give you a sliver of what you’d had while he’d lived. Jacaerys’ bright shining light and warmth has been dulled to dim cinders. You cannot help the tears brimming your eyes. It is a complicated thing, the emotions that swirl within you. He has defied the Stranger to be here with you again, but things will not return to how they were.

Your lungs shake with a withheld sob, warm tears trailing down your flushed cheeks. It is an odd opposition to the feelings his touches are evoking. You find one of his hands, the one lingering near your chest, and you bring it up to your lips to press a kiss to his palm. His hands are still soft yet so cold… 

Jace can feel your chest heaving, the quiet sounds of heartbreak you try to withhold. Your heated tears soak into his hand pressed against your plush mouth. He stops his heated kisses, stills his wandering hands. You cannot see it, but his brows furrowed with concern. His forehead presses to your shoulder, a shuddering breath leaving him. Warm breath brushes over bare skin.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, my love. I didn’t mean to- I… I didn’t wish to upset you. I will stop. I’ve only missed you so much, I could not help-” His voice is apologetic, saddened. It breaks his heart to see you so distraught. Jacaerys thinks his advances are unwanted, that you are disgusted by his undead return.

That could not be farther from the truth.

You cut him off quickly.

“No-” Your voice cracks over the words. You swallow thickly, clutching his hand to your lips as if he’ll disappear at the slightest loosening. “Please. Please, stay. I want you. I need you so badly, Jacaerys… Let me be close to you again. Let us be one.” You utter, voice watery and edging on desperation. 

You crave this closeness with him, to feel your husband as yours once again. You have no clue if he will even be able to return to you after this. What rules to the dead follow? You will take all you can of him, let him consume you, possess you.

His fingers mess with the lacy bottom of your nightdress again, testing the waters. He presses his lips to your shoulder blade.

“You are sure?” Jacaerys whispers against you, needing your permission. He wants his wife again. To feel as if he can be hers in the way she needs him again, even if just for a short moment.

“Please…” You almost beg, desire sweeping through your undertones. Your gentle hand finds his own on your thigh, guiding his nimble hand under your chemise and between her thighs. There is an audible hitch in his breath as you guide him to cup you through your small clothes.

You sniffle and gasp, arching into his touch.

Jacaerys curses softly, you feel long lashes brush against your skin as he screws his eyes shut. He shifts against you, hand leaving your guidance only for a moment to grasp your thigh. It’s hitched over his hip, opening you for him. You’re almost surprised to feel that his skin is bare behind you. You ache to look upon him, to cup his face and kiss him till your heart is whole again… but you stay how he wants you.

His hand returns to you again, gingerly brushing over the inside of your thigh. He’s memorizing the feel of you again, of your smooth skin under his own. You feel so alive, so plush, thrumming with the ichor of life. He groans as his hand slips to the apex of your thighs again, feeling your smallclothes are already damp. You wriggle against him, hiccuping with soft cries as your tears refuse to cease. 

He whispers your name, a breathless prayer. His chin perches on your shoulder as he continues to feel you through your fabric. Downy curls brush across your cheek, soaking up the dampness that lies upon it. His other hand moves from your kisses to tug down the neckline of your chemise, revealing your bare chest. You whine as he takes one in his palm, thumbing over it. Your eyes flutter shut, head leaning back against him. He takes this as an invitation to kiss your bare throat. You push yourself back into him, feeling his arousal at your haunches. Jacaerys makes a soft noise of pleasure, hips grinding against you for only a moment.

His hand at your core shifts. Your breath picks up, stuttering over gentle whimpers, as he slides his nimble fingers beneath your smallclothes. He’s murmuring soft words into your skin, yet your mind can hardly process them when his fingers swipe through your wet center. You gasp, pressing back into him as your hips jerk into his touch.

He groans, biting lightly at your shoulder before soothing it with his tongue.

“Oh, my love…” He murmurs, sounding almost amazed. Jacaerys is breathless behind you, massaging your breast in one hand as the other explores your arousal. You can hardly take the perceived teasing, squirming in his hold.

Your tears have begun to slow, your sweet grief overshadowed by pleasure. You had not realized how much you’d craved his gentle intimacy till you had it again.

“Jacaerys, please.” You moan, hand reaching to wrap loosely around his wrist. He shushes you gently, pressing soothing kisses to the crook of your shoulder.

“I’ve got you…” Your husband soothes. His lithe digits press your clit for a moment, making you mewl, before he’s sliding a finger into you.

You gasp at the feeling, you have not felt such pleasure for too long. He’s mesmerized. His kisses have ceased their gentle assault as he watches with amazement, his eyes focused on his hand beneath your nightdress. You’re already slick enough for him to make the slide easy. The way you tighten your hand around his wrist and shift back against him is indicator enough that you need more.

His second finger breaches you easily. Your moan comes louder now, almost a sigh of relief. His fingers have always reached so much deeper than yours can, brushing against the gummy spot within you that he only knew to reach. You roll your hips with every gentle push of his fingers, a slow rhythm being set. He hums, lips skimming across your skin. Every once in a while, he sucks marks into your neck, laying waste to the previously clean slate. His hips buck against you, trying to find some friction. He cannot help it, it’s almost embarrassing. He craves you more than life itself.

Lashes brush across your cheeks as your eyes flutter. Every pump of his digits has you whining. He always stretches you so fully, so deeply. The sounds are almost embarrassing, a slick slide becoming apparent with every thrust. Your body welcomes his touch into your tight heat, wet and eager. Your cheeks burn, mind hazy with the pleasure of it all. Momentarily, you forget every bit of the world around you. You are his again and he is yours. You gladly let him take whatever he wants from you. Your heart is his.

He begins to curl his fingers within you, picking up the gentle pace. His thumb finds your pearl, rubbing it in tight circles. Your plump lips part over a mewl, your hips jerking into his every touch. Jacaerys feels as if he might come simply at the feeling of you against him once again; as your body melds to his, the way you squeeze his fingers tightly, the way you cry and beg for more. It has been far too long. But he never intends to leave you again.

“My poor wife…” He mumbles to you, his voice low and punched out. “Her pleasure has been neglected for far too long… I will fix that. I’ll make sure you never go without a warm bed for the rest of your life.” The undead prince promises. It does not occur to you at the time to think too deeply about his words.

Soon, you're writhing against him. Your eyes screw tightly shut, your throat constricting over moans. Your cunt squeezes and flutters around his digits, brought to release at his expert touches. You ride it out beautifully; lips parted, red marks blooming across the one side of your throat, body flushed, and your grasp on his wrist forcing him still as you take your pleasure from him. He can feel your release dripping down his palm, messy and desperate. It makes his body tighten with desire. He craves to be inside you, to make you his wife again, to feel the ultimate form of connection they can share.

“That’s it… Take what you need, my girl. You can have it all…” He praises, the filthy words curling over your skin. And you do.

You slump back into him, grip growing slack around his arm. He gingerly pulls his fingers from you, shushing you as you whine at the loss. His arm leaves you for a moment… but you hear him licking his hand clean of your release. It makes your gut swirl with heat, your body buzzing with the eagerness of having him again.

Jacaerys’ veined hand keeps working at your breast as he lets you catch your breath. Soon enough, you're shifting against him again. You can feel his cock pressed against you and he’s been so so patient. You press yourself back to him, you both moan in tandem with him at the friction it provides. 

He suckles at your neck, breathing heavily. His hand tightens at your chest, feeling you almost roughly.

“Please.” He utters. Jacaerys was never one to beg easily. But his soft whimper always made your knees weak and heart flutter, arousal flowing through your veins like the wine of the gods. “Let me take you again, my heart… I’ve missed you. I just.. I just need you again.”

You're nodding before he can finish his next sentence. You want to kiss him so badly. You want to lick into his mouth as you let him claim you. You wish to spend all night with him warming your bed and pressing his imprint back into your body till the memory is ingrained into your sinews forever.

“Take me…” You breathe.

That’s all he needs.

Jacaerys moans against you. His nips at your pulse point as his free hand slides your small clothes down your legs. You kick them away swiftly. He hitches your leg over his bony hip once again, exposing your bared core. 

He positions himself at your entrance, almost trembling with the effort to hold himself back. He pants against you, pressing his nose to your throat. Your eyes flutter as you feel his disheveled hair caressing your skin. Your body hums with anticipation, clenching around nothing.

It’s a momentary stillness, almost as if the room itself is holding its breath.

Then, he’s pushing into you.

You’ve never felt so complete. Your lips part over a silent moan, your body trembling against him. He groans loudly into your neck, almost whimpering. He mouths over your skin, as if to distract himself from the overwhelming pressure of sliding home to you once again. His kisses are wet and hot, tongue laving over your throat as if he was trying to eat you.

Your body flutters around him. He moves slowly, letting you adjust to taking him once again. It used to be a nightly ritual for you both, but now… it was something reverent. Your chest heaves, he fills you so completely. He isn’t even pressed in fully yet but it forces your body to make room for him. It’s beautiful. Jace’s hand tightens on your thigh, keeping you spread open despite your fluttering muscles.

Soon, you can almost feel him in your lungs. His hips press flush to your backside. You both pant, breathing synced. His thumb brushes your nipple, causing you to mewl and squirm against him. Your cunt flutters, adjusting to the stretch. You cannot handle the stillness any longer.

“Jacaerys…” You moan. He knows that inflection in your voice all too well. He rolls his hips against you, punching a groan out of you both. He feels almost frenzied, having your perfect body wrapped around his cock once again.

Soft rolls soon turn into gentle thrusts. It feels like he forces the air out of you with every move. The stretch soon becomes intensely pleasurable. His hand on your chest and thigh holds you in place, holding you open for him to take, for the slick slide of his cock. And you’re so much more than willing.

Your eyes flutter closed, your mouth parted with continuous whines and mewls. You sing so prettily for him. He tries to bite back his pathetic whimpers, but it’s little use. He’s soon moaning into your neck, always so loud and needy for you. He can feel your walls sucking him in, pulling him deeper with every thrust. His hips hit your plump backside with every move. He feels as if he’s reached heaven.

“My love..” He whines against your skin, greedily kissing and licking at any skin he can. He nips at your jaw, your throat, your pulse, your shoulder, even your arm. It’s frenzied, wet, hot, desperate.

“I’m sorry..” He rambles on, causing your chest to tighten. You whine, mouth opening to argue his apology but a moan takes its place as he picks up his pace. 

“Broke my promise..” Jacaerys continues, nosing along your jaw. “But not anymore. Not leaving you ever again… My wife… my beautiful beautiful girl… Always so good for me. Saw you mourning me..” As he speaks, his hand moves from your thigh, finding your pearl and pressing mercilessly into it. It causes your body to jolt, your cunt fluttering around him. You’re left almost breathless with pleasure, voice hoarse from crying out to him in bliss.

“I’ll take care of you now.. I promise. Never again, never breaking my promise again… I’ve got you.” He murmurs, an oath formed with a gentle kiss to the thudding pulse beating against your neck. You gasp out, rolling your hips back into him with every firm slide of him within you.

You’re embarrassingly close already, body spasming around his length. He hits every place within you that makes your body light with fiery rapture. His hand has never moved from your chest, firmly holding you against his own as he feels you. The other works mercilessly at your clit, playing you like an instrument made just for him. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you…” You repeat over and over again, the confession barely made over heaving breaths. Then, you’re pushed over the edge.

You cry out, gasping as waves of pleasure roll through you. You gasp and ramble meaningless sweet things, incoherent. You hear yourself repeating his name like a prayer. You clench tightly around him, taking all the pleasure you can. It makes him whine, arms tightening around you as he finds himself in a similar state.

Jace’s breaths are shaky, raspy as he pleads your name. It rolls off his tongue easier than his own, the sound melting over you like honey. The tight slide of him within you, the sounds you make, the all consuming heat of you against him has him following you over the edge.

A hand slides from your chest to your throat, tilting your head back against him as he muffles his pathetic moans into your throat. He pumps his hips; once, twice more before he’s spilling into you. He fills you to the very brim and you’ve craved that very warmth. You feel so alive, so full, so thoroughly had. 

Panting is the only thing heard in the room, breathy whines reverberating off the stone walls. His hands slacken around you, shifting to a comfortable hold. You can feel Jace practically drooling on your shoulder, no doubt blissed out as he always is after such intimacy. He is pressed deeply within you, kissing your womb. He makes no move to remove himself yet.

But eventually, you whine from the overstimulating feeling and your body’s sensitivity. He shudders as he pulls out of you. You can feel his release dripping down your thighs. You regret the absence but you both know your bodies well enough to know it must be done.

You take advantage of the lull in his guard. You turn quickly in his arms to face him, too swift for him to make a move to stop you.

Jacaerys speaks your name, startled. It’s a protest that comes much too late.

Your heart feels as if it shatters in your chest.

He is your Jacaerys… but he is changed. He looks much like he did before. His skin contains its color, as if he still holds life. His freckles stand out on the bridge of his nose, his curls disheveled across his forehead, his eyes watery as they meet yours. 

But what catches your attention the most is the crossbow bolt through his neck. The wound does not ooze and bleed as it would normally, it is more a stationary part of him now. There is only the red, irritated flesh where the metal enters and exits him. It is a cruel reminder of how he’d suffered his fate.

Jacaerys shuts his eyes tightly at the sound of your startled gasp. He turns his head into the pillow beneath him, almost looking ashamed. He hadn’t wanted you to see him like this… and yet you’d discovered him anyway. 

Trembling hands reach out to cup his face, tilting it towards your own. When his eyes find yours, he finds your bright eyes filled with tears. Your bottom lip wavers with the effort to withhold your cries. He shushes you gently, his own hand coming up to brush away the first tear that falls. 

“Oh, Jacaerys…” You murmur weakly. You're quick to pull him to you, clinging to him so tightly that he thinks his apparition of flesh will blend with your life. As your hands slide around his back to hug him, you discover two more bolts. One in his shoulder, the other in his lower back. You whimper against him, face pressed into his collarbone. You cannot imagine the pain he’d gone through… the fear he’d felt as he felt life slipping through his fingers and bleeding into a hungry ocean. Your warm tears seep into his skin. He holds you close in turn, his hands press their firm marks into your skin, clutching you close like you’re salvation. He buries his face deeply into your hair and shutting his own bleary eyes.

You’ve seen him, the worst of him, and your first instinct is to pull him to you… not to flinch away in fear or disgust… He loves you, more than anything else.

“I’m so sorry.” You sob into him, chest heaving with the weight of it. “I’m so sorry, Jace…”

He shakes his head immediately, pressing his lips to your hair.

“Don’t.” Jacaerys murmurs to you, his voice quiet and shaky. “It is no fault of yours, my heart…” 

He gently pulls away to make you look up at him, his eyes soft as they meet your own. He presses your foreheads together.

“I’ve made it back to you, my love. I told you… the Stranger could not even keep me. I belong to you. Heart, body, and soul… You shall never be without me again. I will crawl back to you if I have to, always.” He promises. You do not comprehend the full extent of it but your heart warms with the words of utter devotion. Jacaerys has defied death and will continue to do so… for you.

He’s always been so stubborn.

Your eyes flutter shut as his lips brush your tears away.

“I am yours… I love you.” You whisper to him, throat tight but your words sincere.

Then, you press close to kiss him. It is all gentle and saccharine. 

That night, you fall asleep with him in your bed. His tresses brush your chin as his face is buried into your neck, you can feel his breath fan across you, his plush lips pressed to your skin. His hand rests protectively over your still beating heart. You cannot feel the beat of his own, but his chest rises and falls with your breaths. Your arms rest around his shoulders, greedily holding him to you, face pressed to the crown of his head. The smell of cedar chokes you but you happily suffocate in it. His old cloak is wrapped around you both.

It is the best sleep you’ve had in weeks. -

The next morning, you wake alone. 

You feel the most rested you have since Jacaerys has passed. The memory of his loving touch, even if just a dream, was a pleasant one you cling to as the Sun coaxes you awake. You are unsure if it was real. The more that dawn lights your rooms, the more unlikely it seems. The storm that has haunted Dragonstone for weeks has seemingly passed. 

Strangely, your immediate grief is stifled as your eyes flutter open, something warm and pleasant wrapped about you like a blanket. Your body hums with the feeling of rest and intimate exertion. Jace’s burgundy cloak is tucked nicely around you, you bury your face into it until your handmaidens come to rouse you from your bed. 

You are groggy, still half-asleep as they begin to dress you.

You are startled when one of your maidens gasps, stilling in her braiding of your hair. 

“My lady! What has happened to your neck?” 

Her hand cautiously brushes along your shoulder and you hiss, the skin surprisingly sensitive. Your eyes sharpen, finding what she’s talking about in the mirror.

Lying stark in hues of red, pink, and purples are violent looking love bites.

[celeste-clearwater-06]

Hi hi! Do you still Write for tmnt? If not, just ignore this ask. And if yes, could I mayhaps get some Bayverse!leo x reader hcs on how he would help his partner out when they’re on their period?

YES I SURE AM, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REQUEST!!

this’ll be a fun little fic to kick off the comeback, I hope you like it! <33

Bayverse! Leonardo Period HC's

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Leo knows aunt flow is here before you do

unfortunately, he could tell something was off with you before he even really understood what they were to begin with

the first or second time you had gotten it while you were hanging out with the boys at the lair, Leo had no idea that’s what it was

and YOU had no idea that he knew, because well,

pheromones give you away (and the obvious, slow growing mood swings)

sweet boy is already prepped

which is why he expects your polite decline to come down to the lair for board game night

instead, you ask if he can come swing by your apartment for a little while

he figures the cramps have kicked in already

Leo knows all apparently 🙄

(unfortunately, he really does)

you’re curled up on your small sofa and holding your stomach for dear life when he gets there

you want to cry when you see he’s got a hot drink and some takeout in hand

has your order memorized :(

he gets you all set up on the coffee table, and then lifts you easily, to lay you on his plastron while he sprawls out on the couch

doesn’t say much

just runs his fingers through your hair while you snuggle into him

also, my boy does not PLAY about taking your medicine

Midol, Tylenol, ibuprofen

TAKE YOUR DAMN MEDICINE

will literally sit and stay with you until he sees you swallow it

also wants you to get as much rest as you can

even if you’ve slept half the day on a weekend and get up to piss

“you need to lay down!”

“i also need to empty my bladder, Lee”

loves making you tea

mother hen has all the natural remedies !!

he’s got all his fancy tea shit at the lair

but if you can’t leave your place, he’ll raid your cabinets and suddenly become a barista??

hello???

leo shares his heating blanket you got him for his birthday, and holds you till the cramps subside

ugh so sooo gentle

even though you can still get through every-day tasks, Leo insists on helping you do EVERYTHING when he’s around

i like to think it has to do with an instinct of protecting an injured animal

he’s scrambling around you and trying to help as much as he can

even though you’re standing like “🧍‍♀️” in the kitchen, perfectly fine, while you wait for your microwave ramen to get done

it’s the thought that counts, okay? 😭

won’t let his brothers rough house with you

even though you’re completely capable

he's scolding Mikey for lifting you in the air

“Sis, it is NOT that serious”

lots of forehead kisses from this boy

*kicking my feet*

also, if Leo can’t check in on you on patrol, he’s spam texting April to

she just texts you

[you doing okay?]

[im good lmao]

[okay good lol]

we love the effort

overall, Leo’s just a worried mess

but he’s got you !!! <33

just a big ol’ sweetie

[Thank you SO MUCH FOR THIS REQUESTTTT!!!! I hope it meets your expectations, I'm trying to ease my way back into writing again, and this was a great start 💕🩷💓 leave your likes and reblogs if you enjoyed and want more!! My request inbox is always open!!!!! Love yas!]

tag list ( @ladyofparchments @well-its-not-human-anymore @raphaelsrightarm @chiliiscereal @milkytheholy1 @moxfirefly @raphsgrl @leosgirl82 @thelaundrybitch @rheawritesforfun @imthegreenfairy86 @aurora-the-kunoichi @angelhazeisaweirdo @raisin-shell )

[lilac-5ky]

TOJI AND VIRGIN READER!

The Favor (officeAU!Toji x virgin!Fem!Reader)

Plot: The first day you met Toji, he told you everything on his CV was a lie. Three years later, he's your beloved work husband, the one you go to when you decide it's time to lose your virginity.

Tags: Office!AU, loss of virginity, fingering, oral sex (f.receiving), agee gap (reader mid 20s, toji mid 30s), soft!dom toji, dirty talking, praising, pet names (sweetheart, darling, kid, wife, whore, slut, etc), aftercare, toji catches feelings after fucking you, daddy vibes without the word, friends to lovers dynamic, size kink, lube handjob, MDNI obviously.

A/N: Combined your idea with my intense need to write an office!au. Hopefully this turned out to your liking and you forgive me for writing this much filth LMAO

Masterlist | AO3 | Requests

For promotion, for demotion, for raises and for cuts, in overtime and in bureaucracy, until layoff do us part.

In the insufferable reality of Japanese corporate life, a work spouse exists to shoulder the burden of overdue deadlines and never-ending stacks of paperwork. A husband who, in spite of not being bound to you through marriage, has vowed to stick by your side until either one of you breaks free from the shackles of human resources; your work husband.

You met each other on your first day at the company, both of you passing interviews for the same lowly position of staffing coordinator.

Your first impression of candidate number 9 was that his suit wasn’t really his but was likely borrowed from someone whose bicep wasn’t the size of their thigh and calf combined. Your second impression was whispered to your ear as the dark haired man rose from his chair and paraded down the interview room, nonchalantly letting slip that his bachelor’s degree along with every bit of qualification on his CV had been faked.

Whether that was a declaration of war or a testament to his unparalleled confidence, you wouldn’t know until a week later when you were assigned to the same miserable office corner, sharing a desk, a title, and a secret whose value skyrocketed once you became acquainted with your work place’s imposing policies.

One word would get both him and his knowing smile fired, but the moment you shook hands with Fushiguro Toji and promised to get along, you signed yourself up for a long-lasting partnership.

Over the three years you worked together, each grew out of their initial post. Your all-nighters paid off and you got promoted to an HR assistant, meaning you didn’t have to memorize everyone’s coffee order any longer, while Toji flourished as the department’s eye candy.

He’d ceased pretending that his broad shoulders could be boxed in second-hand suit jackets, and instead opted for rolled-up button-ups with the occasional monochromatic tie—a fit that put his sculpted physique into full view and threw the entire female populace out of balance.

He was an objectively good-looking man who bordered on great. The type to be conscious of their effect on others, cutting corners with suggestive glances and smiling his way out of otherwise unforgivable report oversights. Every woman in the office was openly in love with him. Even your supervisor referred to him as the team’s ace and discreetly unbuttoned her cleavage in his presence.

You realized then, they’d sooner let go of you and your hard-earned master’s, than part with the department’s mascot.

Despite the differences in skill and appearance, your sense of kinship survived the passage of time. Perhaps you’d subconsciously fallen victim to his charms, but whenever you saw his thin brows furrow and his right foot threaten the unresponsive copy machine with a killing blow, you couldn’t look away. This is a favor; you’d remind him at every formal email and resume assessment you helped put together.

And favors are repaid.

While Toji couldn’t assist with payroll processing, he always had the scoop on who cheated on their spouse with whom and whose bra was filled with padding—which you didn’t find all that interesting, but turned into a fun game of guess the cheater during dull 9 a.m. meetings.

On mornings when the alarm was hurled at your bedroom wall, he made excuses for your absence, and on work dinners, he saved you a seat away from all the grabby drunks.

Toji was far from a good person. His mere presence in a company you’d broken your back to get into was a mockery of your efforts. He led others on and got into muffled shutouts over his phone behind the water fountain, where he thought no one was listening in.

That’s how you found out about his eight-year-old kid and the custody battle with his allegedly “psychotic” ex-wife. He didn’t know you knew because you never told him. Everyone had skeletons in their closet, and it wasn’t your job to sort his out. As far as your work marriage was concerned, he was a good husband who diligently fulfilled his marital duties—all except one, which you feared the pretext of a favor wouldn’t begin to cover.

“Here’s your poison,” you slid the scalding coffee cup in his direction, mindful of the papers on his desk. “Black Americano with four shots of espresso and no sugar to compliment your wretched dark soul.”

Toji raised an open palm in your face, motioning for you to wait until he was done punching words on the keyboard and pressed save file. Your eyes were drawn to his fingers, threaded with faded scars that followed the expanse of veins down his wrists, dipping deep below the white cotton of his shirt. Another unsolved mystery you hadn’t gotten to the bottom of.

He brought the cup to his equally scarred lips, defying the steam spirals with a long-drawn sip. “Unnecessary intro, but thanks.” He gave a lazy smile. “Aren’t ya a sweetheart?”

You dropped your beverage on your side of the desk and swiveled your chair nearer. “Think you could do said sweetheart a favor?

“A favor, huh?” His breath was laced with caffeine. “Depends. If you’re asking for a buck, ‘fraid I’m all dried up till the end of the month.”

So he isn’t planning on paying for his order.

“I make more than you.”

“Doesn’t mean ya can’t find yourself in a pickle.”

You shook your head, stealing a sip of liquid courage from your mocha. How did people ask those things again?

Your contemplation lasted long enough for him to turn his head back to work, filling his home screen with enough tabs to distract you from his unfinished round of solitaire.

“What are you doing after work?” Your voice cracked into shards of uncertainty.

“Nice try.”He sneered. “You dug your own grave taking on the grievance procedures from the union. Climb out on your own.”

“Not everyone offloads their work load on others, Toji.” You rolled your eyes, scooting even closer to make sure only he’d be the recipient of your next words.

He sensed something was off because he wasn’t pretending to input random lines into the search bar anymore, and while he studied you, you studied him back. You had your doubts about this, and you weren’t sure he was your type either. You liked your men responsible and mature—like Nanami from sales, who would’ve been your first choice if your legs didn’t turn into jelly the minute you saw him.

Toji was the safe option. You talked to him. You joked with him. You were used to him, and more importantly, you trusted him. All the lack of qualifications in his job, he made up for with his experience in that other field you were a stranger to.

“Hey, kid.” His voice mellowed down with a beat of concern, a heavy hand landing on your shoulder. “If you’ve gotten yourself into trouble, I—”

“Please have sex with me.”

“Make yourself at home.” He nudged your back into the apartment, glancing over his shoulder to make sure you were following even after he’d pulled away.

Moving forward felt hard—as if you’d forgotten how to. You weren’t sure whether to wipe your shoes on the mat or stash them in the corner. You didn’t know which foot to put forth and what set of slippers to pick. Every decision suddenly mattered a lot more than it should.

You’d never been to Toji’s house before, and up until a few hours ago, you couldn’t fathom standing at his doorstep either. You weren’t that close so as to meet outside work hours, but you were about to get a lot more up close and personal.

The way he accepted your request with a mere, almost offensive, okay still boggled your brain. You’d considered every question he could possibly ask, painstakingly compiling your list of answers like a witness called to the stand, only for him to not speak a word of it—not even when it was just you and him and the solitude that came from enjoying lunch a hundred stories above Tokyo’s bustling streets.

He seemed to have forgotten all about your plans, up until he pulled over at the bus stop where you were waiting and stuffed you in the front seat of his car.

“You coming?”

Kicking your heels off your feet, you skipped straight through the hallway, your head turning left and right as if you were at an art gallery. You didn’t know what to expect, but a high-end apartment in the heart of Minato wasn’t it. Neither your income nor his justified an inox steel kitchen with mahogany wood flooring—let alone a direct view of the illuminated Tokyo Tower.

You were so bedazzled by the city skyline that you nearly missed the hastily buried socks peeking beneath the kotatsu, along with the cobwebs his untouched bookshelf flaunted. Much like his suit, his apartment was handed to him by someone whose love for both their books and spouse had run out.

“Whaddya think?”

Toji stalked behind you, his reflection in the glass becoming more defined with every step he took. He was holding something in each hand—two glasses whose orange liquid sparkled in place of the stars.

You turned around slowly, accepting your share with a small smile on your face.

“Your ex-wife has good taste.”

He blinked, taken aback for a split second. He wondered what gave it out—the pink slippers or the flipped-down picture frames you’d yet to notice—and somewhere down the line, he got the wrong idea, beaming with an unwarranted “Thanks.”

“I meant the house, not you.” Although you couldn’t blame him for his inflated ego when every female practically dropped their panties at his feet. Especially not when you were there to do the same.

Your teeth clicked sharply against the glass as you tilted your head and sipped on what tasted too sweet to be whiskey. Apple Juice?

“That’s not alcohol.” You stated.

“Ever thought of becoming a detective?” Toji padded toward the leather couch, spreading his thighs across the two middle cushions.

“Ever thought of becoming a comedian?” You retorted, squeezing in to his left. The furniture would’ve been big enough to fit you both, had he been considerate. “So what’s the joke? Too young to be drinking, or hard liquor ain’t for pretty girls like me?”

“Nah.” His head dropped on his shoulder, both propped against the headrest. “Need you sober for what’s about to happen.”

You mirrored his stance, your knees touching as you folded them on the smooth leather. “And what’s about to happen?”

“I think we both know, or else ya wouldn’t have followed me here.” He wet his bottom lip, pretty green eyes clouding dark.

A certain dryness gnawed at your throat, the pink color of his tongue appealing to you more than it should. You weren’t interested in Toji, but the strands of black that fell over his forehead painted a cuter image than you were used to seeing at the office. You wondered what he’d look like with his hair pushed back, all slick from beads of sweat rolling down his temples. And when you realized you couldn’t pin any of those thoughts on the alcohol, you took another sip, hurriedly averting your gaze.

“How many have? Women from work, I mean.”

You were surprised to hear him state “None,” and even more surprised that he claimed not to mix business with pleasure. You could think of at least three coworkers you suspected he fooled around with. At least so they bragged in the ladies’ room.

“So why bring me home?”

“‘Cause you asked.” Toji said gruffly.

“You fuck every woman who asks you to?”

“Only the cute ones.”

Your cheeks flushed red as you reminded yourself to take his words with a grain of salt. He wasn’t interested in you any more than you were in him. This was simply platonic—almost transactional. He’d do what you asked, and then you’d pay him back with another, mundane favor like sorting mail in his stead.

You finished your drink, your eyes licking up the remaining drops at the bottom of the glass. “This line works?”

Toji shrugged. It probably did. He probably didn’t even have to open his mouth for it to work. While the moment you opened yours—

“Want more?” He motioned to your glass. You nodded, extending your arm, only for his expression to turn sour. “I’m not your fucking maid. Bottle’s on the counter.”

You sighed, getting up so he wouldn’t see your eyes roll at his comment as he shoved his glass in your face. Who’s the maid now?

Aimlessly, you strolled into the kitchen, taking longer than necessary to fill both your glasses. You didn’t mean to start snooping around, but you couldn’t help yourself from seeking a sign of his presence in his picture-perfect apartment. Houses typically reveal something about their residents, and while the display of crystal glasses spoke plenty of his ex-wife, there was no evidence of Toji’s personality.

You weren’t interested in him—just curious. That’s what you kept telling yourself as you picked up a frame stowed away behind an empty cookie jar.

Four smiles greeted you, the brightest belonging to a young girl with elongated bangs, holding a boy who strove to copy his sister’s expression. Their parents stood behind them, a beautiful woman with long brown hair tucked in a ponytail blissfully leaning against the shoulder of a Toji that seemed less happy the longer you processed his strained features.

“She left.” The proximity of his voice startled you. The frame danced between your fingers until he snatched it, his jutted-out chin betraying his annoyance. “Took the kids, left the house and me behind. Ain’t that what ya wanted to hear?”

You shook your head, about to drop to your knees and beg for forgiveness on his parquet. However, the hostility that rose faded as soon as he threw the picture in the first open drawer and returned to the living room, leaving you to fetch your drinks. Then you remembered the phone calls. They weren’t on good terms.

“Having kids isn’t bad. Nor being divorced.” You handed him the glass, assuming your previous position on the couch. “Doesn’t ruin your cool guy image whatsoever.”

“Who said I care about that?” Toji snorted.

“Then you wouldn’t care if anything slipped in front of your fan club?”

“Mind your own fucking business.” He hissed. You chuckled. Sharing a couch wasn’t that much different from sharing a desk, and sharing two secrets was the same as sharing one.

“What are your kids’ names?”

“Kid,” he corrected. “Megumi.”

By the name, you assumed it was the girl. You were wrong. You tried to ask something about his son’s mother, but somehow you couldn’t find one right thing to say, since the woman in the photo wasn’t the boy’s biological mom either. You were lost. The more cryptic answers he gave, the more unanswered questions you ended up with.

Your plan took a backseat while Toji trod the sensitive topic of his divorce to that “bitch,” who’d taken his kid from him out of spite. The custody battle was tipped in her favor, courtesy of a legal system that’d rather see a child separated from its biological parent in the face of cold cash.

Megumi only visited every second weekend of the month, which explained his father’s eagerness to leave early on certain Fridays and come late on the following Mondays. He didn’t need to say this, but you understood his reasons for cheating his way into the company. A proper job looked good in court, and whatever earned him those scars was far from proper.

Both your hands emptied as you finished your second round of drinks. Your head would be buzzing if there was alcohol involved, but you didn’t miss it. Toji was hard to engage, and talking to him felt like running into one brick wall after another. However, working out of those dead-ends was preferable to clinking glasses with some guy who wouldn’t quit boasting about his Ivy League diploma or his burning passion for vocaloid singers—both cases reflecting the sad reality of blind dating in your twenties.

“So.” Toji drawled, a burly arm stretching behind your head. “Why you want me to fuck you? Can’t find good dick in the market?”

Your mind went blank in an instant, every excuse and curated version of the story vanishing when you needed them the most.

“I—um,” you cleared your throat, while your eyes scanned over his body.

There was a lot to take in: the fine lines of his pecs, highlighted under the taut white fabric; the black tie hanging loose around his unbuttoned collar; the hem of his shirt that dangled out of his fitted pants, exposing the tiniest window to the happy trail on his lower abdomen; his slim waist and his thick thighs; the curve of his bum; and the light touch of his fingers closing around your shoulder. You traced the same route of landmarks, finding yourself returning to his achingly handsome face and the playful curiosity in his eyes that had you shifting in your place.

All the reasons for someone to want to be fucked by this fine specimen of a man were right there, and you picked the most inclusive one. “Because you’re hot.”

The ends of his scar drew apart as Toji smiled a wolfish smile. He inched closer, your back hitting the armrest when his right hand caged your body between his arms and the couch.

“Bullshit.” A tickle from where his nose brushed against yours, and a thud from where your heart dropped inside your chest. “You think I wouldn’t know if ya had the hots for me, kid?”

“N-not everyone throws themselves at others.” You tried to reason.

“Maybe. But attraction comes with signs.” The side of his hand grazed the corner of your eyelid. “Batting your pretty lashes,” he trailed off, rough knuckles softly tracing the apple of your cheek. “Blushing your cheeks red.” The pad of his thumb swiped down your cupid’s bow. “Biting your lip raw.” He continued with his eyes, glancing at the skirt that lay high above your knees suggestively. “Pressing those plushy thighs together.”

“You do none ‘f those things.” Toji accused. “So why the sudden itch? Indulge me, and I’ll pound that pussy till ya scream.”

The promise of his words forced a gulp down your throat as your thighs involuntarily rubbed together. You started to reconsider. You didn’t want to fuck him just because any man would do. You wanted to fuck him because it was him and because every patch of skin he made contact with begged to be touched again.

“I’m a virgin.” You admitted, voice low, and stare even lower—utterly defeated as he flinched away in surprise.

You wondered what he’d say. A virgin at your age? was the most common response, followed by Is something wrong with you? and typically concluded with You sure you’re not a lesbian?

Everyone preaches how precious innocence is, but no one wants the pressure of taking it. What men really want is a woman who is both a saint and a slut—a woman who can suck their dick ten inches deeper than they can provide while simultaneously shying away from every insinuation of sex.

The problem is with the poor souls who belong in either category without adhering to the other, because squeezing your legs shut is just as faulty as spreading them open for the public.

Seeing as Toji remained silent, you realized you wouldn’t get an answer, and maybe it was for the best. You didn’t want to put a strain on your work relationship. It’d take a while to look him in the eye again, but in a month or two, you’d laugh about the incident over a cup of soggy store-bought noodles like nothing happened.

“Sorry for bothering you.” You mumbled as you picked up your last vestige of dignity and stood on your feet, only to be anchored by a set of fingers that tightly gripped your wrist.

“Sit.” His unfaltering gaze confirmed the sincerity of his command.

You thought about breaking free and dashing to the door. You thought about how much it’d actually hurt to let him ridicule you, and the tears started to build up on their own. And when you didn’t do as you were told, he towered over you with a palm that was eager to cup your cheek, tilting your face in position for him to print a rough kiss on your parted lips.

“I said fucking sit.” Toji repeated, while you contemplated how someone who spews words so harshly could have such soft lips.

Sheepishly, you fell back onto the couch, expecting him to follow suit and not kneel on the floor like he did. “What’s the story?” He asked, large hands taking hold of your knees and slowly rubbing them apart.

“What makes you think there’s a story?” You prayed that he couldn’t feel your heartbeat bounce across your body as if it were an empty vessel.

“With you, there always is.” He licked his lips as his eyes settled between your thighs, darkening with lust the second they were met with the damp patch in the middle of your pink lace knickers. “Wanna hear all about it while I feast on your little hole.”

“You’re not gonna fuck—”

“First things first, sweetheart. Gotta make sure y’are all prepped before I stuff you with my cock.” Toji smiled, pushing your skirt until it rolled over your stomach. “If ya gonna scream my ears off, better be from pleasure, mm?”

You nodded, watching as his slender fingers slid your underwear off and temporarily—you hoped—shoved it in his back pocket. You saw him marvel at the sight of your exposed cunt and wished you could peer into his brain to hear him curse himself for not coming up with this idea first.

You looked so pretty down there, your puffy clit safely tucked behind its hood while your lips shimmered with your wetness—the scent so intoxicating his pants tightened into a size too small.

He was already considering his next favor. Now that the door was open, he’d make sure it never closed again. Bending you over the copy machine was the front-runner. Getting a print of your tits squeezed against the scanner while he blows your back, his palm muffling out the pathetic sounds you let slip—he’d be lying if that wasn’t what he fantasized about whenever you refilled the ink cartridges for him.

“Ya ever touch yourself here?”

His thumb swiped over your clit, drawing an incomplete circle that ended with light flicks around the sensitive nub. Left and right. Up and down. Searching for the combination that’d have your body answer in place of your mouth, and when your hips bucked forward, he knew exactly where to press.

“Y-yes!” You whined, more as a reaction than an answer to his question.

“And ya ever push a finger in?” He continued, teasingly dragging his thumb between your lips.

“Just one. Rest hurt.”

“Mhm, bet they do.” He hummed as he tasted you on his finger, exaggerating the suck with a soft pop. “Ever had a guy kiss ya there before?”

Toji gave his own answer as he buried his head in your pussy, the sticky mix of his saliva and your juices trickling down your entrance while he made out with your clit. You struggled to keep your thighs apart, the raspy grunts at the back of his throat vibrating against your mound in joint symphony with your breathy moans. His tongue felt so good soaking on your slick that you felt yourself melting into a pool of pleasure.

“Get talkin’ or I’ll stop.” He warned, slowing down with broad, near-maddening, strokes that occasionally dipped between your folds.

“I wanted to w-wait,” you panted. “Wanted to fall in love first, but then I waited too long, and—ngh, fuck, right there!” Toji pinched your folds apart, his stare lecherous as he sucked the puffy pearl into his warm mouth.

Your body jerked in response, the leather squeaking hard beneath your bared ass. You weren’t sure at what point interest surpassed curiosity, but the signs were all there, manifesting as heat in your cheeks and blood that threatened to drop from your chewed-up lip.

His jade eyes narrowed into a shrewd reminder. Putting your thoughts in order was impossible, but if you stopped, so would he.

“Everyone ‘round me started d-doing it, and I was the only one l-left.” You tried to regulate your breathing through your nose, your throat turning hoarse from all the strain. “Went on a bunch of blind dates, but the guys were t-turned off, and—how the fuck are you so good at this?”

Toji chuckled, the pink tip of his tongue parting your lips in a languid motion that made you shudder. “Let’s just say my marriage didn’t fall apart ‘cause of this.”

He mounted your knees atop his shoulders and neared your entrance, with his middle and ring fingers ghosting over the softness of your pulsing slit. “Gonna use my fingers now. Be a good girl and cum on them, will ya?”

The first digit pushed forward, much thicker than any of your fingers. You felt so full already—nails digging into the cushions, while he thrust in and out of your walls, curling the lone pad to find a spot so sweet it elicited a moan of equal sweetness.

“Ya did well to come to me.” He continued, his raspy voice effortlessly sexy. “Kids these days don’t know shit ‘bout pleasing a woman.”

The veins on his wrist flexed along with his scars as his ring finger joined in the action to defy your previous claim. There was no pain. Only immense waves of pleasure leaking through your squinted eyes as hot tears beaded your eyelashes.

“Doin’ so good for me, darlin’.” He praised, repeatedly hitting the swollen bundle of nerves inside your throbbing cunt, bringing you closer to the edge with each thorough pump.

“Maybe I was wrong, hm? Maybe that’s what ya wanted all along. I know I did. Fucking wanted my hands on this pussy since I first saw ya fidget with your little skirt at that interview.”

“Toji—”

He dived between your legs again, his hand maintaining the same erratic pace even while his tongue hungrily lapped at your clit. Your head lolled back, the tension in your guts rapidly building up until you came undone, your pussy clenching and creaming around his calloused fingers.

You’d never finished so hard on your own, the tremors of your orgasm ringing in your ears and jogging your memory.

Your first impression on that day was sadness, right? Sadness over the wedding band the handsome stranger hid in his pocket right before entering the building, thinking no one else caught sight of it, and embarrassment about how your impure thoughts for a married man followed you into the shower every night after work.

“Atta girl.” A present-day and very-much divorced Toji licked his lips into a smile. “Their fucking loss.”

His knee pressed into the gap between your thighs as he stood on his feet and prompted you to open your lips. You took his fingers in your mouth, licking your cum off while your chest heaved with one labored breath after the other.

“See how good ya taste?” Toji cooed, rhythmically fucking his fingers on your tongue before removing them. “Sweeter than honey.”

“Thought you didn’t like sweet things.” His coffee order came in mind.

“How ‘bout we make an exception?”

You weren’t sure what got into you when you grabbed him by the tie and pulled him forward, kissing him with such vigor you’d never experienced. You always thought of losing your virginity as checking an item off your bucket list. You didn’t imagine you could ever lust after someone the way you currently lusted after Toji, your desire escalating into an all-consuming need.

His tongue moved as skillfully in your mouth as it did when it explored your pussy, dancing with your own rather than overpowering it. You liked kissing him. You liked kissing him so much that you wanted to incorporate it into your morning hellos and your evening goodbyes, dragging yourselves into an endless loop of returned favors.

Without breaking the kiss, Toji hoisted you up from the couch and held you in his arms, his palms finding the perfect excuse to grab onto your ass while he carried you across rooms you didn’t care enough to see. A door creaked behind your back, and soon you were tossed onto a large body of endless softness—a bed, you realized as Toji hastily shoved a couple of pillows behind your head.

“Ever heard of that stupid nickname that goes ‘round work?” He whispered in your ear while his fingers worked on undoing your blouse. “How they call ya my work wife?” His palms slid around your ribs and back to unhook your bra. “Guess this makes it our wedding night, heh.”

You rolled your eyes, holding back a chuckle. “Don’t you feel any shame calling me your wife when you’re about to fuck me on your ex-wife’s bed?”

“My bed now, and what I say fucking goes.” He stripped your body from every garment, salaciously gawking at your nude figure on his (her) satin sheets.

You didn’t feel too bad about showing your body, but his stare was almost intrusive—especially with how he hadn’t lost a single article of clothing himself.

“Such a gorgeous body, wife.” He dragged out the final syllables, hoping to elicit a reaction separate from the soft pants you let out as he caressed your soft curves—both much softer than the bedding you were splayed across, liquid velvet in his hands. “Such a good little wife, saving herself for her husband to deflower.”

“Why thank you, husband.” You chortled, cupping his face in a deep kiss.

You knew Toji was the right choice. Not because touching him felt like winning the lottery or because he knew exactly what he was doing, but because he could’ve made this situation a lot more awkward and didn’t. He made your first time feel special, granting your wish of doing it with someone you loved, even if it was all an illusion that’d fade come tomorrow morning.

You almost thanked him as he began to unbutton his shirt, the display of corded muscles and pale scars breaking the dam between your legs. Whatever your type might’ve once been, was no more. It was all Toji, with his clenched fists lifting the weight of his brawny, veiny arms, his shoulders so wide you could ride on them, and the self-complacent smirk your stupefied expression brought to his lips.

“This ain’t an exhibit, sweetheart.” He mocked. “You can touch all ya want.”

He didn’t need to say it twice for your palms to roam his body, starting from his neck and slowly gliding down his torso, feeling out the tension in his steeled abdomen. His skin was smooth, except for the few unruly hairs leading down to the bulge in his crotch, whose sight alone made you lick your lips and buck your hips into his. You wanted to see the rest of him.

“You are the hottest divorcee I know.” You smiled earnestly.

“Ya know lots of ‘em?” Toji cocked his head while you shook yours with a giggle. “Don’t be so flattering.”

“I do have a great-aunt…”

“Oh, please.” He groaned, allowing you to laugh it out. He didn’t like how his bottom lip twitched as he struggled to contain a chuckle of his own. He’d long sworn off girls that made his heart skip a beat.

“Think y’are ready?” You nodded. Repeatedly.

Digging his knees into the bed, he stretched an arm toward the nightstand, fishing for a bottle in one of the drawers. Lube, you realized as he settled it beside you to remove his pants, flinging them along with his boxers to the other side of the room.

Your eyes widened at the sight of his cock, an expression that didn’t look too good considering fear was about the last emotion you should be experiencing.

He was packing in every sense of the word. Long, thick, and definitely heavy as it hung above his hefty balls, the reddened tip pointing at your entrance. It wasn’t like you’d never seen a cock before. Porn existed, and so did perverts in trench coats, but comparing either one to him was both disrespectful and a huge understatement.

“Don’t go cold on me now, mm? It will fit.” He read your mind, taking your hand in his and slotting the bottle in your fist. “Prepped you so good for it. You’ll see; you’ll like this more than my fingers.”

“Promise.” He added, squeezing your hand reassuringly. You chose to trust him, and when he brought your other hand to his shaft, you knew what he was asking you to do.

The bottle spurted a thick glob of liquid that your palm smeared all over his cock head. Toji watched with bated breath as you stroked his length, each thorough pump of your delicate hands warming him up.

He deserved a pat on the back for not cumming right then and there—the distinction between the clear lubricant and his creamy precum becoming more prominent while he throbbed and twitched in your tight grasp. He thought about how much tighter your walls would be, milking every drop he had to offer while you writhed beneath him, with little ah-ah-ah’s and Toji please’s complimenting the squelching of your tight virgin cunt.

“That’s enough.”

He pulled your hand away and cracked the bottle open once more, rubbing a small quantity between his fingers and then scissoring them in your walls. You clung onto him, your hips chasing after his touch. Cute.

“Eyes on me, darlin’.” Toji leaned close enough so that your field of view was consumed by his face. “Keep your eyes on me, breath in ‘n’ out, and it won’t hurt one bit. I’ll take good care of ya.”

Your legs were parted as he ran his cock between your folds and pressed down firmly, his hand moving to your hip once he guided the first inches inside.

Toji was the first to react as he sank in deeper, about two-thirds in when he felt your pussy snare around him like a vice, the warmth of your walls making him curse under his breath. His last fuck was less than a weekend ago, and yet he felt like one of those loser kids he scorned earlier. He’d forgotten just how good being inside a virgin was—a one-and-done deal that would cease to amaze him after he fucked you into his shape.

“All good?” He remembered to ask, taking your strained yes at face value.

Small creases formed over your forehead, contorting your expression into a pained wince the further he sheathed himself into your wet cavern—and when his words weren’t enough, his lips took over. He kissed your worries away and cradled your breasts in his palms, doing everything in his power to keep the pain to a minimum as his hips met with your pelvis, bone against bone and skin against skin, until he finally bottomed out.

A whimper cut your kiss short, and for a second he feared tears would stream from your glassy eyes, not considering the possibility of your shaky legs wrapping around his back and your swollen, pretty lips calling out his name with a stuttered moan.

“F-fuck me, Toji. Please—fuck, I need you so badly.” You begged, dropping the pretense of composure.

“Yeah? Want me to fuck your little virgin pussy?”

“Y-yes, Toji, yes!”

“Yes, what, doll?” He teased. “Say it.”

“Please be my first, Toji.”

His grin turned feral in a heartbeat, your words stirring something in him that he could not explain.

He was prepared to spend the entire night fucking you at a snail’s pace, buttering you up with praises, and pampering you as if you were a golden egg goose, but now he didn’t have to. He could fuck you exactly how he pleased—fold your knees onto your stomach and hold down onto your thighs, pussy all exposed to where he could watch his cock pound into your hole and hear each and every strike of his balls against the fat of your ass—and you would take it.

But when he looked down and saw the ring of red that’d formed around his shaft, he had a change of heart. Maybe another time.

Planting his fingers on your hips, he withdrew slightly, purposely aligning his tip with the roof of your cunt. He didn’t have to go hard to make you happy. All he had to do was hit that one spot, and you’d be coming back for more. Having a steady thing wouldn’t hurt either. It was convenient—certainly better than burning gas driving across town just to pick up some random slut he’d tire of five minutes into her over-the-top screams. At least you lived close by.

With lavish strokes, he rolled his hips against your own, dipping forward to grind his pubic bone against your mound. It didn’t take long for the stimulation to get overwhelming, your hair falling from your strict work up-do all over your sweaty forehead while you thrashed around the sheets, huffs escalating into whiny moans.

“Sh-shit, gonna cum, Toji.” You managed, though there was no real need to tell him.

Your body responded perfectly to his, wetness gushing over his cock while your walls tightened impossibly around him. He fucked you through your high, wrapping his arms below your shoulders and muting your blissful sobs to chase after his own release. Your breasts were squeezed against his pecs, pebbled nipples making him regret not giving them the proper attention.

This wouldn’t be the last time. Your body was like a playground to him, and he sure as hell wasn’t done playing.

“My fucking work wife.” Toji grunted possessively in your ear, nipping at the lobe. Only his lower half moved, a constant snap of hips bouncing through the room as the second lewdest sound after the ones you traded. “Wanna send your ass crawling to work on all fours. That’ll show them, mm? Show them who fucked you so good. What a—fuck, what a good slut y’are f’me. From a virgin to my whore—hah, make ‘em all so jealous.

“Shhhhit, ya like that?” He interpreted your clenching as he willed. “Wanna start a rumor? Fuck on every desk, in every stall, and have everyone know?”

“Yes, Toji! Yesyesyes, want everyone to know you f-fucked me.”

You went back and forth between panting out his name and chanting yes, as those were the only two words you could mindlessly repeat. He wasn’t joking about making you scream. You were on the verge of passing out, so engrossed in ecstasy that you’d lost track of how many times you’d climaxed.

“‘s too much, T-Toji!” You begged, burying your head in the curve of his neck and breathing in his musk. You were both so sweaty, glued together like two puzzle pieces.

“One more, sweetheart. ‘m so close—wanna feel ya cum with me.”

He toyed with your clit until he started to fall out of pace, drawing his cock out before it was caught in the spasms of your pussy. A hefty load burst in his fist as he jerked himself off to your fucked-out form, hot drops of cum spraying your stomach like creamy droplets of rain.

Neither of you realized how soaked the sheets were until Toji left the bed, his eyes not faking their surprise. You didn’t seem to be in that much pain, and yet the amount of blood and wetness was at least equal to carnage.

Would it be a dick move to task you with his laundry?

He spared you a glance, not bothering to hide his smugness. Your legs were still trembling, your breasts puffing up in your struggle to breathe through your agape lips. He was tempted to tell you off—something cheesy like, “Want somethin’ in your mouth that badly?”

“Hey, kid. You are not dead—are you?” He asked jokingly, laughing through his nose as you found the strength to flip him off. Now that the effects of your orgasm were wearing off, so was your obedience.

“How’d ya like your first time?” A thumbs-up this time. “A’right. C’mere.”

The longer he let the stain settle, the more of a bitch it’d be to remove it. That’s what Toji told himself as he picked you up in his arms and carried you into the bathroom, returning to the bedroom only to roll the sheets into a ball he’d later discard in the washing machine. He wasn’t avoiding looking at your cute face, and he definitely didn’t think of your weakened infant-like state as cute when he scrubbed your thighs clean with a wet towel either.

A weird image sparked in his memory, one from the many nights you’d spent working side by side at a dimly lit office. He remembered you ordering him takeout and looming over his head like a vulture while he went neck-to-neck with the vicious spreadsheet program. You insisted on tutoring him, claiming your dressy outfit was a result of canceled plans—even though you kept stealing glances at the clock—and staying with him until the wee hours when you didn’t have to.

You really were a sweetheart, an angel, and all the other terms of endearment he used on you knowing they made your lips stretch and your eyes sparkle. But that wasn’t for you to know.

“Toji?” Your voice jolted him out of his reverie—frail, but not as frail as the hands that wrapped around his own to snatch the towel.

What could he say to make you leave without any harsh feelings coming back to bite him in the ass?

He pondered his options while you bent forward from where he’d seated you on the counter by the sink. You held his limp dick in your palm, gently wiping the dried blood and cum that clung to his girth.

It was sickening how quickly he stiffened, all ready to ram it in your pussy and fuck you with the mirrored view of your ass in the backdrop, but what truly made his guts churn was the little cheeky smile you beamed with. He stood by his words. Virgins were the biggest sluts.

The towel dropped to the floor as you pointed his cock at your entrance, and that was all the convincing he needed.

“Fine.” Toji sighed, pinning your wrists on the cold quartz counter top. “You can stay the night, but mention work and I’m kicking ya out.”

This is definitely not how you say it.

You made it to the office the next day after a brief raid on your apartment. Going to work in your previous day’s clothes screamed, “Look at me! I got laid!” And as fun as creating all those fantasies with Toji was, you could do without earning “Hated Employee of the Month.” Everyone hated you for being friends with him as is.

He waited until you’d changed into a presentable outfit and dropped you off a block further away for precaution. You shared your final kiss in the car, wasting a whole fifteen minutes sucking each other’s faces off like teenagers at a drive-in. Dating a colleague was against the rules, and you didn’t want to date Toji either. Not that he’d asked. Not that you expected him to ask.

Losing your virginity was a lot more complicated than you thought.

He counted on you to bring coffee, and you would have if an intense craving for spicy tuna onigiri didn’t win you over. The convenience store was right around the corner, and its coffee was honestly not that bad if you squinted your eyes and fooled your senses a bit.

You grabbed two onigiri from the stand—in case Toji felt like stealing yours—along with an apple juicebox, both as a means of thanking and poking fun at him. You paid for the items and walked to the office, nauseated by the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach. You should’ve really eaten something instead of having your final hookup at the breakfast table.

A few people greeted you in and out of the elevator to the forty-seventh floor, some commenting on your looking less gloomy than usual, but that was about it. The world spun the same way it did even before you had sex. No big change or mind-blowing epiphany; just a euphoric feeling of accomplishment that dissipated the moment you saw the stack of documents waiting on your desk.

“That’s just the tip of the iceberg.” Toji magically sprouted from behind, loaded binders balanced on his arms—the same arms that’d lavished you with affection all night long. “They had a fall out at one of the subsidiaries, and now we gotta clean up their shit.”

And back to reality we go.

“Where’s my coffee?” He searched for a cup on his desk.

You pushed your desperation aside and held the juice to his face with a smile that turned awkward the longer he took to accept it.

“It’s um, you know.” You stepped closer, placing the box atop his mountain of files. “Thank you.”

“Also, got you this, so don’t even think of taking mine.” You balanced the onigiri beside the juice and plopped down on your chair, an antsy, blushing mess that refused to meet his stare until he looped an arm around your headrest and attached his mouth to your ear.

“Care to do me a favor?”

[folkwhoredoll]

library affections - rafe cameron x fem!reader

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

synopsis: there are two things that you love in this world; rafe and books

word count: 0.9k

warnings/tags: none, just fluff with sweet boyfriend!rafe

a/n: hi everyone! i don't think i can ever thank you all enough for your support in all of my works :< tbh i did not expect to gain so much interaction because this blog is still relatively new but here you all are and i appreciate each and every one of you <3 this fic is another fluff boyfriend!rafe fic (is it obvious that i like fluff so much lmao) and i've written this a while ago. i hope you'll like this one! if you have a request or prompt in mind, feel free to send me a message. happy reading!

masterlist

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Being a regular visitor at the Camerons' estate has familiarized you with every corner of the house. Now, you have memorized every room and decoration, immediately spotting whatever is newly added. The Camerons didn't mind your presence, with your family being a close friend of theirs. Thus, it was no surprise that you ended up dating the one and only son of Ward Cameron.

With his father and stepmother often occupied and his sisters frequently out with friends, you and Rafe usually find yourselves with the house to yourselves, save for the occasional presence of the household staff. Yet, you've never minded.

Today follows a similar pattern. Ward left for a morning meeting, Wheezie went to school, and Sarah departed at noon to join John B's group. Surprisingly, even Rafe isn't home, having agreed to a golf outing with Topper and Kelce. Although he initially invited you to join, you declined, preferring to avoid the "boy talk" and the scorching sun. Thus, you find yourself waiting for Rafe in the living room, idly scrolling through your phone.

It's been around two in the afternoon when you got bored, sighing and deciding to stand up to walk around the house. Your feet already know where you're going when you face the familiar entrance to the Camerons' Library.

This room is your most loved spot in the whole estate, apart from Rafe's room. The vast shelves of bright book covers from different times always amaze you. If you could, you'd live in this room. Rafe has found you exploring this library countless times; even his sisters know it's the first place to check when you're not around the house.

Quickly scanning the shelves for a book, you settled upon a fantasy fiction novel, clutching the book as you made your way to a couch by the window. The first few chapters had you hooked immediately, eyes rapidly passing through every word as you moved chapter by chapter. The book was so good that it blanked your other senses, making you jump when you suddenly heard Rafe's voice.

"I knew you'd be here." He smirked, still in his golfing outfit, as he stood over you.

"Hi, Rafe." You smiled up at him, putting the book down on your lap. "How's golfing?"

Rafe plopped beside you, stretching his legs and putting an arm around your shoulder. "It was good. I got bored with Top's whining about his break-up with Sarah, so I left."

You chuckled when you saw his eyes roll, a dramatic sigh escaping his lips. "They were together for a long time. You can't blame him."

"I guess." He shrugged before flashing you a flirty grin. "But I also want to spend time with my girl."

You snorted. "Yeah, okay."

"What? I do! I feel guilty about leaving you here alone." He defended.

"I don't mind, Rafe." You spoke.

"Hm. I bet you don't. But still."

You raised your brows, silently urging him to explain what he meant.

"I just mean that you were too distracted by that book, baby. I could've been an intruder, but you wouldn't even know. What is that about anyway?"

Your eyes lit up at his question; you've always loved speaking about the books you've read. And Rafe loved hearing you talk, even if he's mostly confused.

"I just started reading it, so I don't really know what it's about yet, but there's this girl, and she has electricity powers!" You started excitedly.

Rafe listened intently. He couldn't help but feel affection for you, marveling at how your eyes sparkled with passion for the story. Despite the chaotic world outside, at this moment, it was just the two of you, surrounded by the tranquility of the library.

As you continued to talk, Rafe's mind wandered, reflecting on how much you meant to him. You were the one person who could effortlessly penetrate his tough exterior, revealing the softer, more vulnerable side of him that he often kept hidden from the world. He felt at ease with you, free to be himself without fear of judgment or ridicule.

Lost in his thoughts, Rafe reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You paused mid-sentence, startled by the sudden touch, before leaning into his hand, relishing the warmth of his touch.

"Hey, what's wrong?" you asked, concern lacing your voice as you noticed the distant look in his eyes.

Rafe shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "Nothing, I'm just... happy. Happy to be here with you."

A soft blush colored your cheeks as you met his gaze, feeling the warmth spread through your chest. At that moment, surrounded by the scent of old books and the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the window, you couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

Leaning in, Rafe pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before pulling away. "I love you," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with sincerity.

"I love you too," you replied, your heart swelling with emotion as you returned his affectionate gaze.

With a contented sigh, Rafe settled back against the couch, pulling you closer until you were nestled against his side. Together, you sat in comfortable silence, basking in the simple pleasure of each other's company.

At that moment, surrounded by the familiar comforts of the library, you knew that no matter what the future held, as long as you had each other, everything would be okay.

[albedomestic-airline]

genshin hcs!

WARNING!!!: I HAVENT WRITTEN THE ACTUAL THING YET BUT I KNOW FOR A FACT THAT THIS WILL HUNDRED PERCENT BE OOC I JUST KNOW IT SO BARE WITH ME

notes: im just dumping some random hcs to feed my children (anons) while im stalling on cooking the ACTUAL main course. i apologize to my anons but here is a snack while you wait. and ofc to anyone else ;) I’m SO sorry that Furina’s is so shortttt. I just don’t know that much about her next time I’ll do my research I prommy. and WHAT THE HADES WHY IS AMBER’S SO LONG I GOT CARRIED AWAY OMFGS-

taglist status: OPEN! just send an ask or add a comment if you want to be tagged (im opening this even though i know for a fact i have like, one person to tag and that is livia vanrouge [did i spell your name right i think not] you are a pookie and ily)

characters: thoma, furina, kazuha, freminet and amber x gn!reader (seperate)

amber!:

Amber is the type of person to take you out whenever she can

and by take you out, I don’t mean for dinner or something, no.

I mean taking you to Dadaupa Gorge and clearing Hilichurl camps with you.

taking you to Starsnatch Cliff at night to go stargazing and wish on shooting stars.

she will find a pretty spot while she’s doing her outrider duties and take you there.

she’ll go to Good Hunter and get some food to-go and eat it with you at your little hangout area.

she’ll secretly keep an eye out for any monsters while you enjoy the meal she got you.

she’s probably got your usual order memorized.

you like Teyvat Fried Egg? easy, simple, she’s got you covered. your favorite’s a nice, roasted Sweet Madame? she noted that wayyy long ago.

she’ll go on walks with you through the Whispering Woods.

she’ll go to the Anemo Statue at Windrise with you.

can’t sleep? she’ll take you to the top of the Knights of Favonius Headquarters to look at the night sky.

sick? she’ll get you medicine. sick with an uncommon illness? she’ll go all the way to Liyue and get medicine from Bubu Pharmacy.

speaking of Liyue, she’d take you to Chenyu Vale or Liyue Harbor for a special occasion. like, your birthday or your anniversary. she knows almost every place in Teyvat like the back of her hand.(excluding maybe Snezhnaya, Khaenri’ah, and Inazuma but anyways-)

she’d spar you so you could work on your fighting.

she’d let you cuddle Baron Bunny (deactivated. do not hug Baron Bunny when it is not deactivated)

her favorite cuddling position would probably be having you face each other with her arm wrapped around you.

furina!:

Furina would be a TALKER. and I mean TALKER in your relationship.

not in a bad way like a yapper (paimon frfr-) but she just talks more than you.

she would give you a lot of random gifts like a bouquet at 10 pm or smth lmao

she might be very cuddly. her favorite position is spooning, either her big spoon or you big spoon, she doesn’t mind.

despite her outside personality, if you guys argue, she’d approach the situation calmly and talk it out before misunderstandings could arise.

she’d call you “my muse/my love” and to joke or for fun “my dearest puzzle piece”

if your ever feeling down, count on her to lighten up the mood!

she’d tell you a joke

light up a candle

watch a movie with you

take you for a walk

pick flowers with you

etc etc.

freminet! (cuz there’s not enough of him @freminet-writings @ryu--19):

this man

this smol man

is shy (made it so dramatic for such an obvious fact)

he’d take you underwater

but if you can’t swim

he’d take you to Fontaine’s coastline near the waters

one of my Freminet hcs is that he can hundred percent ice-skate

if there’s an empty ice rink he’d take you

teach you basics maybe

since he’s so calm, it would make him an amazing person to have deep conversations or to just talk about your struggles.

because he’s that shy, he probably won’t even tell anyone about a single thing you said.

he’d give you small trinkets from time-to-time

he’d let you cuddle Pers

quiet moments are important to him and he holds them dearly.

so he might take you to a flower field and just sit there with you.

make you a flower crown, or put some in your hair.

Lyney would tease the living frick out of you both

when him and Lynette find out about Freminet seeing you they’d be like “you talked to someone???” “AND IT WAS A GIRL???”

and then he’s just there like “yes.”

”WHAT THE FUCK-“

Arlecchino would be proud of him. but would incinerate you if you hurt him.

so, to conclude, I simp for him. you simp for him. and if you think you don’t, you’re lying to yourself. that’s not healthy.

thoma!:

get yourself someone like him

best boy frfr

I need him to teach me how to use a spear cuz WHAT THE FUCK

HAVE YOU SEEN HIS MECHANICS???

THAT’S AGGRESSIVE

COMPLETELY OPPOSITE TO HIS DEMEANOR

will make you tea

will cuddle the living crap out of you whenever he can.

can NOT restrain himself from touching you after his shift at the Kamisato Estate is over.

will cook for you

for a date, he might take you to one of Inazuma’s coastlines (yes, another coastline.)

a bonus you get while dating him is TAROUMARU

FLUFFY DOGGY

do NOT take him to the Narukami Shrine.

why? Yae Miko. I refuse to elaborate. you should know.

KOMORE TEA HOUSE

like Kazuha, he can probably braid hair

oooh free coupon for Naganohare (is that how you spell it?) Fireworks ! ! ! (reference to his About Yoimiya voiceline ehe I mayy or may not ship them teehee 🤭)

once the STUPID VISION HUNT DECREE IS OVER (I’m talking to you, Ei), he might take you to his amAzing homeland Mondstadt. (where we tOtally learnt about where our sibling is and dEfinitely didn’t just help out with un-brainwashing a dragon. [did we dirty it’s brain…?])

andd no, he doesn’t have a good alcohol tolerance. he says it in a voiceline so KIDS DON’T DRINK!

basically, he’s a W bf.

kazuha!:

*deep breath* I simp for him for a reason period.

he is the most CARING and THOUGHTFUL man EVER.

my favorite on this list fr

don’t get him wrong, he might reason against you joining him on board because he doesn’t want you to get hurt or anything.

being on a fucking ship at sea for so long is dangerous alright.

but if you are able to defend yourself, then woopti-doo

he will look calm on the outside,

but his heart is jumping for joy.

would sing if you can’t fall asleep

sooo prettyyyy ugh

would ask Beidou for advice in the start.

would buy you gifts

cuddle you in the mornings

play with your hair

PLEASE play with his hair too, he loves it.

probably knows how to braid hair

so if you have long hair, he’d braid it for you

hundred percent knows how to play guitar

would play for you

takes you out on dates when you guys r on land.

can cook

will cook

and will feed you

overall, amazing bf

give credits! dividers by @cafekitsune

taggys wahoo:

@liviavanrouge, @ryu--19

[xhollowfaerie]

Anticipación

a/n: ok this is by far the craziest one i've written sdufhdsfisdjfsf oh my god im so nervous about postin gthis LMAO please lmk if this was any decent bc i did my best, i was really running out of synonyms for moan/whine/cry etc tags/warnings: demi4demi inexperienced Rookanis, (very slight) soft dom Lucanis, submissive fem Rook, plus sized Rook, praising kink, Lucanis discovers edging, also Lucanis discovering some things abt himself......, squirting + a surprise at the end hehehe

Kore’s moans filled the dining hall, echoing back around Lucanis, only driving him further. Their cold coffees laid long-forgotten by their side, his fingers slowly, audibly sliding in and out of her as she held onto the front of his shirt, foreheads glued together. She was sitting on the table, legs spread apart as he dipped his fingers into her, his other arm steadily holding her waist as she trembled in his grip. He’d always wanted to ravish her in that pink chemise, driving him insane from the very first time he’d seen it on her figure. His eyes flooded with desire, watching her lashes flutter helplessly.

She was panting, inadvertently dragging her nails down the back of his neck, causing a shiver to run all the way through him. His brown eyes were trained on hers, observant, taking in every microexpression on her beautiful, round face, memorizing every freckle. The way the dim light of the fireplace hit her glossy lips imprinted itself into his mind, swallowing back the thought of seeing them wrap around him. He took in a breath to gather his courage before his fingers hit deeper inside her, feeling her suddenly clamp down around them. 

“Lucanis!” Rook whined, arching her back. Fuck, she was so close-

He widened his eyes and gingerly pulled his fingers out, watching her carefully. “Lo siento, mi amor… I did not mean to hurt you.” Rook looked at him through half-parted eyelids, feverishly breathing against him, voice meek. “N-No… y-you, didn’t, I almost…”

Oh.

He flushed, embarrassed by his own lack of expertise. “I-I, I thought-”

She painfully clenched around the emptiness inside her, running her hands over his neck. Kore felt the overwhelming wetness between her legs drip down her thighs. Her pink nails held onto the lapels of his shirt, mouthing her words against his lips.

“Please.”

He closed the space between their mouths, lovingly kissing her as he slid his middle and index finger back inside - after she assured him many times that no, two were not too much, even though it had taken a bit of trial and error to figure out the best ones for the job - and she moaned into their kiss, desperately grabbing his face and bucking her hips into his hand as she started shaking.

“Lucanis, Lucanis-!”

His ears picked up a noise outside, making his heart stop dead inside his chest. He moved the hand from her waist lower, pulling her closer to the edge of the table by her ass in an attempt to cover how exposed it was, horrified that Davrin or whoever else was just about to walk in - also halting his fingers inside her.

Kore mewled in protest, collapsing her head against his shoulder as she breathed heavily.

“P-Please, L-Lucanis… you’re killing me…”

He mentally cursed himself, but something caught his attention; they had only made love a couple of times before, and while she always cried for him so sweetly - the way she said his name made it very hard to focus - he’d never seen her quite this worked up.

Almost as if…

Humming, he moved his lips to the particular spot on her neck that made her squeal, feeling her thighs tremble as he moved inside her again, gently curling his digits and quickening his pace - she shrieked and grasped a handful of his hair, her moans growing louder and louder.

“L-LUCA-NIS-”

He stopped again, smiling against her neck as she trembled from head to toe, breath hitching. The way she whined pulled at his heartstrings, but the intense influence over her was bringing something out in him that he hadn’t previously considered - that something he used in his profession could be so easily applied to pleasing her, more than he’d ever expected.

He pulled away just enough to watch her, the deliciously needy expression on her face, the blush over her ample chest and shoulders, the drops of sweat running down her forehead; the very light smears of makeup under her eyes. 

Spite growled behind him, eagerly watching Kore. 

“Nnnngh, Lucanis! Fill her already! I. Need. Her.”

They had convened (well, she had agreed for his sake- truthfully, she was not at all averse to the idea…) that no, Spite will not be coming out while they were intimate with each-other; frankly, after the things Lucanis had heard him say about her (the things he wanted to do to her), he was horrified of letting Spite out; not yet, at least. They’d barely begun their romance, and he was not about to let his uncontrollable demon lay a finger on his Rook.

“Ours!” Spite snarled at him, but Lucanis was easily distracted again as Kore leaned back, grabbing a hold of his tie to pull him towards her as she rolled her head, impatiently tightening around him until he felt his fingers go numb. Those eyes, the sweet, innocent expression he adored so, replaced by an uncontrollable lust, the gaze of a siren eating him alive.

Fuck, he wanted to please her until she was sick of him.

Cheeks flushed, pupils dilated, hair lighty tousled… she tugged on his tie again, biting into her lip. 

“P-Plea-se?” Her voice wavered, and it was an almost impossible task for him to not just give in; but he was, quite frankly, desperate to see more of the insatiable side of her, the complete trust she had in him, the absolute control she surrendered to the hands of a trained killer.

A primal desire to dishevel her further rose inside Lucanis as he very tentatively started pulling his fingers apart inside her, making her gasp. Pleased with her reaction, he leaned in closer, his hand tracing the fullness of her shapes as he whispered in her ear.

“Beautiful, Rook” his voice rumbled lowly; the elf squirmed as her walls collapsed around his fingers, tugging on his tie more decisively than before. Lucanis very quickly discovered that he really, really enjoyed the feeling of his tie tightening around his neck, watching his elven lover tug him around as she pleased.

“Vhenan…” she croaked in response, shyly glancing away as her lips trembled. He felt her hands shake, urging him to angle his digits better and gently push them further in, inhaling sharply when she threw an arm around his neck, almost straddling him as she hung off the edge of the table.

“Oh, oh, Gods, Lucanis!-”

Swiftly, but carefully, he pulled his fingers out again, hearing her voice break into a frantic sob. Her chest rose and fell erratically. He kissed her ear, her cheek, along her neck and beneath her chin, circling his lips to the other side of her head. “You’re doing so well, my rose.”

His words made her whimper; she almost came from his voice alone, reeling from his praise, barely holding herself steady as more beads of sweat rolled down her skin; Lucanis watched as they beautifully rolled down the curve of her chest before disappearing in her generous cleavage, feeling his hands grow restless. Agile, skilled - the hands of an assassin. Cool, controlled, calculated. Twitching in anticipation.

Her gaze was fully bound to him, entranced; honestly, the pleasure was so intense, she was unsure if she was actually awake or if this was one of her many dreams of him - her heart was rattling so violently inside her ribs, she thought it would burst at any moment - especially as she watched him put his fingers in his mouth, relishing the taste of her as he licked them clean. She stopped breathing, lips agape - the smallest trickle of drool lingering around the corners of her mouth; without a second thought, he softly wiped her lips, tilting her head back.

“I must admit… I’m concerned” he whispered, holding her like that as he analyzed her, “concerned that I might grow much too addicted to seeing you like this.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and squeaked in embarrassment, trying to turn away; he gingerly took her hands and motioned for her to wrap her arms around his neck, moving his own down her wide hips, the thickness of her thighs, before finally reaching behind her, grasping her ass and lifting her with so much ease, it made her heart flutter. Her legs wrapped around him instinctively, feeling his hardness brush up against her very damp core as she let out a long, sultry sigh.

He rolled his hips, rubbing himself against her; it barely took more than a few moments for her wetness to permeate the fabric of his pants, easing the friction between them. She tightened her grip on him, pressing their chests together; he felt the aggressiveness of her heartbeat colliding with his, the way she pulsated against him with lust -  and almost lost himself. 

“Please… Vhehan…” she pleaded, threading her fingers in his hair as she placed kisses over his face, covering his breathtaking features in a pink, shimmering shade of lipstick in the shape of her lips. He smiled between her pecks, moving his hips against her again ever so slightly. His voice was almost teasing, murmuring intimately. “Do you want me to stop?” 

She didn’t answer, burying her face in his neck as he grinded against her again, grasping his shoulders and digging her pretty nails into him so much it almost pierced him through his shirt.

Maker, did that feel - incredible.

He wanted - needed her to scratch him more.

“Should I help you finish, mi vida?” He lulled into her ear, preemptively smirking as he waited for her answer. “N-not…yet…” Kore bashfully glanced at him, surprised by the confidence he exuded as he placed her back on the table and guided his hand back between her legs, slicking his fingers in her juices with one, quick sweep that made her shudder. “Mm… I thought so.”

He slowly laid her down on the table, supporting himself with one arm as he curiously explored the sweetness between her legs; lovingly watching her squirm, gasp, contort under his touch. “Eres mi vida, mi mundo, mi todo (You are my life, my world, my everything)” he purred against her flesh, feeling her grasp onto him for dear life. “Eres mi alegria, la mujer de mis sueños. (You are my joy, the woman of my dreams.)” His voice only seemed to err her further, so he kept talking. The unabated huskiness of his voice rattled her to her core. "Quiero ver como mi Rosalina se deshace para mí. (I want to see how my beautiful rose comes undone for me."

Her thighs trembled violently as he brought her close to the edge, squeezing his sides with more strength than most would give her credit for. He moved so he could hold her thigh up with one hand, pushing her leg back and exposing her to him fully as she cried out in shame, feeling his thumb agonizingly circle her.

“Sathan (Please), Lucanis!” Kore wailed, feeling a flurry building inside her so violently it almost scared her. A heat unlike any other, a pressure threatening to spill at any moment. She brought a hand to her mouth and helplessly bit into it to stifle her screams, curving her spine so much her back lifted off the wooden surface, her chest spilling out of the pink satin of her chemise. 

The sheer self-control it took for Lucanis to not sheathe himself inside her then and there…

The dining room was a lewd mess of sounds; her wetness, her panting, the creaking of the table as she struggled atop; not to mention the sheer magnitude of her broken voice as she squealed and mewled for him uncontrollably, chanting his voice in between elven pet names and implorations. 

“Mierda, I want to make you sing like this for me forever.” The look on his face was one of absolute focus as he drank her depravity in, lowering himself to rest his forehead in between her chest, taking a deep breath in. The scent of her threatened to make him come undone, too, overstimulated by her hoarse cries, her tantalizing appearance, her slickness on his pants and the dull ache beginning to set into his wrist - one he immediately tossed to the back of his mind as he satisfied his Rook.

Her skin, her sweat, her perfume, his scent on her intensified the yearning in his hands, finally sliding his fingers back inside her, hooking them deeply into her core as he kept his thumb caressing her sensitive bundle of nerves.

Kore got to take a single breath into her lungs before she saw white; she might have even passed out for a second as she vehemently coiled around Lucanis, thrashing under him with a high-pitched prayer of his name.

His eyes widened in surprise as a flood of liquid met his hand, squirting all over his fingers and palm, over the hem of his sleeve, the front of his expensive shirt and all over her thighs; that, and the way she twisted and shrieked in utter pleasure while burying his face in her chest, pulling his hair. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, feeling an increasingly insatiable need gnawing him alive.

He was so hard it hurt - and despite him usually being able to ignore it, this time, his arousal for her was almost unbearable.

“Ar lath ma, Vhenan…” Kore panted deeply, feeling his face lift back up to hers. He kissed her, trembling fingers cupping his face as she twitched under him, intricately defensiveless.

“Ar lath ma, Vhenan” he responded, lacing the Elven confession with his irresistible Antivan accent. She let out a groan, feeling herself throbbing still, jittery and breathless.  “Te amo con todo mi ser (I love you with all of me)” Rook whispered, trailing her fingers down his jaw and neck, feeling him shiver. “You are a dream come true. My safe haven.”

Her eyes slid to a close, clinging to him; he more than happily obliged, rolling them over so she could rest on top of him, cradling her sweetly, holding her tight as he kissed her forehead, brushing the beautiful length of her pink hair with his fingers. “Look who’s talking” he murmured, leaning his head back to rest against the table. He adored the feeling of her in his arms…

And Spite, well, Spite found it much harder to dismiss the overpowering arousal coursing through him.

Lucanis tried to part his lips to warn her as he felt his consciousness slip - instead, his eyes overturned with a eerily incandescent shade of purple, trailing his hands hungrily over Kore’s body. A growl dragged itself out of his throat, his hands closing around her ample chest, making her weakly squirm as he played with her breasts. “Mercy, Lucanis…”

He bucked his hips up against her ass, reaching a hand between her legs and wrapping the other around her throat, baring his teeth.

“Rosalina. I. Missed you. Need you. So. So. Badly.”

“S-Spite?!”

“Nngh. Yes…” 

She squealed as his grip on her throat tightened, shivering incessantly as he rubbed her clit - fuck, fuck, fuck, she was still so sensitive, she might come again right away if he doesn’t stop - his touch contrasting aggressively with her Crow’s - her demon was rough, impatient. 

Starving.

Kore felt his lips curving deviously against her ear, melting a little too easily into his possessiveness… oh, Gods, she was as horrified as she was excited.

His hot breath tickled her, feeling the dam inside her close to breaking again as he spoke. 

“Finally. Spite’s turn.”

[hellspawnmotel]

ok answering more asks cuz I've got a lot to catch up on!

below👇

I have not..... I know a lot about them though and of course I've heard amazing things. they seem like exactly what I would've loved when I was younger and I'm really happy other people got to experience that. but I got pretty burnt out on cartoons after the 2014-2017 era of fandom. can you blame me lmao

yes that is me! thank you!! but ummm honestly I don't think their reactions would be much different than canon. they're still fundamentally the same people, just with somewhat different life circumstances. so all around the basic "hey asshole, you try to hurt my family again and I'll make you wish you never discovered the third dimension" from everybody involved.

I haven't, but taking a glance at it it seems pretty impressive. the art and designs don't really grab me (I'm picky) but maybe I'll check it out sometime.

I played a little bit of it! mostly the robot section of course. cube's got a great design, it's not elegant at all but it's dynamic and memorable

unfortunately most horror games are a huge blind spot for me, ESPECIALLY survival horror. I am......a wimp. like, majora's mask was too stressful for me to play, I don't think I could make it through a whole game being chased by The Killer.

I love horror elements in non-horror games though. and I'd like to get into the somewhat more obscure horror games that are focused more on atmosphere and storytelling than anything else (parasite eve I'm coming for you)

ech..... honestly I was kinda disappointed by the new trailer. I was really looking forward to it but I wanted more weird time travel stuff and it wouldve been a really cool way to learn more about kalos' history. what we've been shown so far looks kinda lame. on the other hand though, it wouldn't be authentically kalos if it wasn't kinda lame and disappointing (said with all the love in the world for XY)

nop

well that.......sucks. unfortunately I'm not surprised though lmao. I know it's pretty beloved but chrono cross was always gonna be a hard sell to me anyway. I know what it does with the cast of chrono trigger and I'm not happy about it.

I do not do requests, sorry. I am often VERY influenceable though and I pay attention to what people say in tags so that's a good way to trick me into doing what you want, haha

right on man 🏄

[inseobts]

Sketching Another Life

sabo x gn!reader

you keep sketching sabo even though he died in front of you years ago. but what happens when he appears again?

a/n: omg finally got the chance to post this akdjsj it was in my draft for months and months lmao

words count: 2.9k

tags: doesn’t follow the anime canon events, childhood friends, protective luffy

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

Luffy doesn’t hesitate when he sees Sabo again.

The moment his big brother stands before him, alive, real, breathing—he hugs him.

It’s not even a conscious thought. His body just moves, arms wrapping tightly around Sabo’s torso, pressing his forehead against his coat. He squeezes his eyes shut, because damn it, Sabo was supposed to be dead.

Sabo stiffens for only a second before his arms return the embrace just as fiercely “Luffy…” His voice is hoarse.

Luffy grips the back of Sabo’s coat tighter “You idiot,” he mutters “You—you were gone.”

“I know,” Sabo whispers, and there’s so much regret in those two words that it makes Luffy’s chest ache.

It takes a long time before Luffy finally pulls away. His eyes scan Sabo’s face, as if memorizing every inch of him. He’s older now, different, but still Sabo.

And then Sabo asks the question Luffy knew was coming.

“…What about y/n?”

Luffy’s stomach drops.

He knew Sabo would ask. He knew the moment his brother remembered everything, he’d remember you too.

Because how could he not?

You weren’t just a part of their childhood—you were one of them. The fourth member of ASL. The one who always trailed after them with a sketchbook tucked under your arm, the one who kept their memories alive on paper.

Luffy swallows hard, looking away. He remembers the way you shattered when Ace died. The way you curled into yourself, sketching their faces over and over like you were trying to bring them back.

The way you stopped smiling.

The way you stopped living.

You had lost both of them, and now Luffy refuses to let you break all over again.

So he lies, and for the first time ever he has to be good at lying, because now it's important and he can't do it wrong.

He forces a grin, rubbing the back of his head “Ah, y/n? Yeah, they’re—uh, they’re fine! Doing their own thing!”

Sabo frowns “Really?”

“Yep!” Luffy nods—too quickly “They’re not on the crew anymore. Just, y’know, off somewhere!”

Sabo stares at him “…You’re lying.”

Luffy freezes.

Sabo’s gaze sharpens “Where are they, Luffy?”

Luffy crosses his arms “Not tellin’ you.”

Sabo blinks, caught off guard “What?”

“You heard me,” Luffy says, suddenly serious “I’m not tellin’ you.”

Sabo stares, confusion flickering in his expression “Why not?”

Luffy looks him dead in the eye “Because you died.”

Sabo flinches.

“You died, and Ace died, and y/n almost didn’t make it through that.” Luffy’s voice is tight now, controlled but firm “I won’t let you hurt them again.”

Sabo feels like the wind has been knocked out of him.

You… suffered? Because of him?

“I just want to see them” Sabo says, softer now.

Luffy shakes his head “No.”

And that’s the end of it for now.

Sabo doesn’t push the subject.

He lets Luffy avoid it. He lets him steer the conversation elsewhere. But the thought of you lingers in his mind, heavy and unshakable.

Are you really okay?

Something doesn’t sit right, and then, by pure accident, Sabo finds it.

He’s wandering the Sunny, familiarizing himself with Luffy’s ship. The night breeze is cool, the ocean calm. He steps into a quieter part of the deck, where a small table sits against the railing.

There’s a notebook on top of it.

At first, he doesn’t think much of it. But then his eyes catch the open page—the sketch.

His breath stops.

It’s them. Him. Ace. Luffy. And you.

The four of you, standing side by side, grinning like you hadn’t a care in the world. Just like old times.

But that’s not what makes his chest tighten.

It’s the signature.

A dumb, childish sign that only one person ever used. A weird little mark that never made sense to anyone but you. The same signature you used when you were kids.

And right beneath it—a date.

Just a few days ago.

Sabo’s eyes widen.

Luffy lied.

You’re here.

Sabo grips the notebook, knuckles white. His heartbeat pounds in his ears as he stares at the date—just a few days ago.

He doesn’t know whether to be angry or just hurt. He knew right away that Luffy lied but now he has the confirmation.

Before he realizes it, his feet are already moving. He storms across the deck, gripping the notebook tight in his hand. He finds Luffy near the mast, shoving meat into his mouth like nothing’s wrong.

Like he didn’t just lie to his own brother.

Sabo doesn’t stop walking until he’s standing right in front of him “Luffy.”

Luffy looks up, still chewing “Hmm?”

Sabo holds up the notebook “Explain this.”

Luffy freezes.

His eyes flick to the sketch—to the signature. His chewing slows, and for the first time since reuniting, Sabo sees something rare in his little brother’s expression.

Guilt.

“Sabo…” Luffy swallows, setting his food down.

“You lied” Sabo says, voice controlled but firm.

Luffy doesn’t deny it. He just looks away.

Sabo tightens his grip on the notebook “Why are you doing all this?”

Luffy exhales through his nose, running a hand under his hat “Because you hurt them” he says simply.

Sabo’s stomach twists “I—what?”

“You heard me” Luffy says, looking back at him “Ace died. You were gone. Y/N lost both of you. And you wanna know what happened after that?”

Sabo doesn’t answer. He’s not sure he can.

Luffy’s jaw clenches “They stopped living, Sabo.” His voice isn’t loud, but it’s heavy, filled with something raw “They stopped smiling. They kept drawing, yeah, but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t for fun anymore. It was like…” He hesitates, searching for the right words “Like they were trying to keep you guys from disappearing forever.”

Sabo’s fingers curl.

Luffy sighs “I thought I was gonna lose them too.” His voice drops to something dangerously soft “I almost did.”

Sabo’s breath catches.

He never thought about it. He never realized.

He had assumed you were strong. You always were. You were the one who stood beside them, laughing, teasing, drawing stupid little comics of them falling into ditches.

You had always been there but he left. Ace left. And you had to bear that weight with Luffy alone.

Sabo looks down at the sketch again, his own face staring back at him from the page. The way you had drawn him—older, smiling, standing beside his brothers. A version of himself that you had never even gotten to see.

And yet… you still imagined him there, growing up with all of you.

He swallows hard “I need to see them.”

Luffy frowns “No.”

Sabo’s head snaps up “Luffy—”

“I said no!” Luffy stands up, fists clenched “I just got you back, and I’m not letting you mess them up again!”

Sabo’s chest tightens “Luffy, I—”

“They’re happy now!” Luffy cuts him off “They started smiling again! They’re finally okay! What if seeing you ruins that?!…”

Silence.

Sabo stares at him, realization settling in.

Luffy isn’t just protecting you.

He’s terrified.

Terrified that seeing Sabo again will break you all over again.

Sabo takes a slow breath, his grip loosening on the notebook. His voice is softer this time “Luffy… you don’t get to decide that for them.”

Luffy flinches.

Sabo takes a step forward “You think they’ll fall apart if they see me?” He shakes his head “You don’t know that. Maybe it’ll hurt at first, yeah. But don’t you think… maybe they deserve to decide that for themselves?”

Luffy doesn’t respond. His jaw is tight, hands trembling slightly at his sides.

Sabo exhales “I need to see them, Luffy.”

Luffy clenches his teeth, eyes shadowed beneath his hat.

Then, finally—

“…They’re in the infirmary.”

Sabo’s breath catches.

Luffy doesn’t look at him “They got hurt on our last stop. Chopper said they just need rest and Sanji is there to keep an eye on them” He crosses his arms “If you wake them up and make them cry, I’m gonna punch you.”

Sabo huffs a small laugh “Fair deal.”

But Luffy doesn’t laugh. He just turns away “…Don’t hurt them again.”

Sabo watches him for a moment. Then, he nods “I won’t.”

With that, he heads toward the infirmary and then hesitates in front of the door.

For the first time since finding out you were here, uncertainty creeps in.

What if Luffy’s right?

What if seeing him just brings back all the pain you worked so hard to bury?

He exhales, pushing the thought aside. No—he has to see you. He has to make things right.

Slowly, he pushes the door open.

The room is dim, lit only by the soft glow of a lantern. The air smells faintly of medicine, and the steady sound of breathing fills the silence.

His eyes land on you instantly.

You’re curled up on the bed, wrapped in a blanket, your expression peaceful. Even after all these years, even after everything, you still look like you.

Sanji is seated in a chair beside your bed, one leg crossed over the other, a cigarette resting between his fingers. He doesn’t look surprised to see Sabo standing there. If anything, he looks… expecting.

Sanji exhales a slow stream of smoke “Took you long enough.”

Sabo tenses “You knew I was coming?”

Sanji leans back, tapping his cigarette against the ashtray on the table “Didn’t take a genius to figure it out. Luffy’s been acting weird ever since you showed up.” He tilts his head “You finding that drawing must’ve sped things up.”

Sabo doesn’t respond. His eyes flick back to you, his chest tightening.

Sanji notices “They’re okay,” he says, voice quieter now “Just exhausted and resting. Took a rough hit on our last island, but nothing Chopper couldn’t fix.”

Sabo clenches his fists. The idea of you being hurt—even now—doesn’t sit right with him.

Sanji watches him carefully “So? You gonna wake them up?”

Sabo hesitates “…I don’t know if I should.”

Sanji takes another drag of his cigarette, exhaling through his nose. “You really think you get to make that choice?”

Sabo looks at him, startled.

Sanji doesn’t break eye contact “You left them once already, didn’t you?” He taps his cigarette against the tray again “You don’t get to decide what’s best for them. Not anymore.”

Sabo’s breath catches.

Sanji sighs, standing up “I promised Luffy I’d keep an eye on them but I also know they’d kill me if they found out I let you walk away.” He gives Sabo a pointed look “So, what’s it gonna be?”

Sabo looks at you again.

His fingers twitch at his sides.

Then, finally—he moves.

He steps forward, slowly, quietly, until he’s right beside your bed. His breath is unsteady as he really takes you in.

You’re different now. Older. But still you.

And then, without thinking, he does something he hasn’t done in over a decade.

He reaches out—hesitates—then gently brushes his fingers against your hair.

Sanji raises an eyebrow but says nothing.

Sabo swallows hard. His voice, when he speaks, is barely above a whisper.

“…I’m sorry.”

For leaving.

For making you grieve.

For not finding you sooner.

For everything.

And then— you stir.

Sabo’s breath stills.

Your eyelids flutter slightly, brows furrowing as if resisting the pull of consciousness. He pulls his hand back quickly, heart pounding.

He’s not ready but he doesn’t have a choice.

Because then—your eyes open.

You blink a few times, adjusting to the dim light, and then your gaze lands on him.

And you freeze.

Sabo’s throat goes dry. He should say something. But he can’t. He can’t breathe, can’t move, can’t do anything except stare because you’re looking at him like he isn’t real.

Like he’s a ghost.

Your lips part slightly, but no sound comes out. Just wide, unblinking eyes, your body going stiff beneath the blanket.

Sabo finally forces himself to speak.

“Hey.”

It’s weak. Hoarse. Not nearly enough.

You don’t react. You don’t move. You just keep staring.

A thousand emotions flicker across your face—confusion, disbelief, shock—before suddenly, your expression shatters.

Your hands tremble as you clutch the blanket. Your breath hitches, quick and shallow, like you’re trying to hold something back.

“Sanji.”

Your voice is barely a whisper, but Sanji is at your side in an instant “I’m here.”

You don’t look away from Sabo, like if you blink, he’ll disappear “You see him too, right?”

Sabo’s chest tightens.

Sanji exhales, rubbing the back of his neck “Yeah, sweetheart. I see him.”

You inhale sharply “Oh.”

Sabo takes a cautious step forward “y/n, I—”

“Don’t.”

His stomach drops.

You shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut “Don’t talk.”

He stiffens.

Sanji places a hand on your shoulder “Breathe,” he murmurs “Nice and slow.”

You try—you really do—but it’s too much.

Because Sabo is standing right in front of you, looking older but still so much like the boy you lost.

And the worst part?

He’s looking at you like he’s sorry.

And that makes you angry.

Your hands curl into fists “You—” Your voice shakes, raw with something you can’t name “You’re supposed to be dead.”

Sabo flinches “I know.”

“Do you?” You snap your head up, eyes burning “Do you actually know what it was like? To lose you? To lose Ace?! I'm so happy to see you but what the hell? Why only now... I don't know how to feel...”

Sanji’s fingers tense against your shoulder, but he doesn’t stop you.

Sabo takes a breath, steady but guilty “I can’t take back what happened. I've lost my memory and got it back just after Ace... But I—”

“You what?” Your voice rises, throat tight “You just forgot about us?!”

Sabo’s expression twists “I didn’t—”

“You did!” The words rip out of you before you can stop them “You left, Sabo! You left me, and then Ace—!” Your voice breaks “And then Ace—!”

You can’t say it.

You can’t say it because if you do, it becomes real again.

The weight in your chest feels suffocating.

And then—a hand.

Not Sanji’s.

Sabo’s.

Warm, hesitant, but firm as it settles over yours.

You stiffen.

Sabo kneels beside the bed, meeting your gaze with something deep, something raw.

“y/n” he murmurs, voice almost pleading “I’m here now.”

Your breath hitches.

Because that’s the problem.

He’s here.

And you don’t know if you can handle it.

You don’t speak, don’t even move for a few seconds. Your heart is pounding in your chest, a chaos of emotions swirling in the pit of your stomach. But then, without warning, you pull him close.

It’s a sudden movement, urgent, like you’re afraid he’ll vanish if you don’t hold onto him with everything you’ve got. Your arms are tight around his neck, your fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt.

Sabo’s breath catches. He doesn’t know what to do, but he doesn’t hesitate. He wraps his arms around you, careful and gentle, as though afraid that any sudden movement might shatter the fragile moment.

And it’s fragile.

Because in this hug, there’s tension. So much unspoken hurt in the way your body trembles against his, the way your breath hitches every time his fingers brush the back of your head. This doesn’t fix anything. It doesn’t make up for the years, the pain, the void that has been left in the wake of his absence.

But it means you missed him. It means, despite everything, you’re still here. Still clinging to him.

He feels you pull away just a fraction, enough for him to meet your gaze. Your eyes are red and swollen, and the sight of it nearly breaks him.

You wipe your face with the back of your hand, trying to hold it together. And then, your voice comes out rough, raw, barely more than a whisper.

“Don’t expect me to forgive you right away.”

Sabo’s chest tightens. He wants to speak, to apologize, to explain himself, but the words are stuck in his throat. Instead, he just nods, his gaze never leaving yours.

“I know,” he says quietly, voice thick “I wouldn’t ask you to.”

You swallow, your breath still uneven, and for a moment, neither of you says anything. The silence between you is heavy, but it’s not suffocating. It’s an understanding.

Then, without warning, you move again. You turn your back to him, walking slowly over to the window, the moonlight casting a soft glow over your features.

Sabo stays where he is, unsure of what to do, still unable to quite believe that he’s standing here, in front of you, after everything.

You take a deep breath and speak, your voice more controlled now, though the weight of everything still lingers.

“When Ace died… I thought I was gonna lose everything. But I didn’t, Sabo. I stayed. For Luffy. For… for us.” You pause, fingers curling into the fabric of your blanket “And I can’t—can’t—lose you again.”

Sabo’s heart aches. He doesn’t deserve that. You stayed. You stayed through the worst of it, even when he wasn’t there, even when Ace was gone.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, barely audible “I can’t take back what I did.”

You don’t look at him, but your voice trembles when you speak again.

“I know.”

It’s simple. But it’s all you need to say.

Sabo stands there for a long moment, the weight of your words sinking in. It isn’t enough to fix things. It won’t ever be enough. But it’s a start.

And he’ll take it.

For now.

[wrathofrats]

Kinktober day 7: hate sex

Prompts by @kroas-adtam

what you do on your own time’s just fine, my imagination’s much worse

Alpha/omega

Read now or on ao3

Explicit, 4k.

The thing is, alpha isn’t stupid (despite whatever the fuck earth has claimed). Its easy to notice omega staring when he whips his head away like he’s been smacked whenever alpha turns to meet his gaze. The shaky voice seems obvious when omega doesn’t sound like that around water. He just can’t miss it, can’t ignore how his pupils blow wide and he chews on his lip when he watches alpha play.

It’s disgusting quite frankly

WARNINGS AND TAGS: homophobia, homophobic slurs, homophobic stereotypes, heavy degradation, kinda dubcon but both give pretty enthusiastic consent, tiny bit of blood kink, blink and you’ll miss it, alphas using omega to get off, omega is more than ok with this, tiny bit of forcefem?, objectification, calling a hole a pussy, pls head all my warnings if any of this is a problem skip this one LMAO

Alpha and omega were summoned together. A plume of sparks and smoke, in the midst standing two ghouls that primo had never seen in such sizes. They stepped off the altar with little problem, none of the hissing and fighting that had occurred with Nihils ghouls. They were perfect. Dangerous and obedient for the church's new project.

Alpha had taken his orders more seriously than omega. He was a guard, made from fire and lava in the pits and placed at primos side when he didn’t have a guitar in his hands. Even when he did, he was still silent and stoic. Working on learning the chords as if they were gospel in order to please his papa.

Omega was different. Surely took his job seriously but spent his time in the library doing research, or taking care of the siblings minor injuries. He was friendly and approachable, quickly taking a liking to the other three ghouls that were summoned not long after alpha and him.

He took a special interest in alpha. For being summoned together they rarely interacted outside of band purposes, and even then alpha stayed silent, only really speaking when primo prompted him to. When omega tried, he was usually ignored besides maybe a nod of his head or a grunt.

Even the small interactions made omega blush. He never understood why, simply feeling nervous and out of breath when alpha would so much as look at him. Once alpha asked him how much of the song he had memorized and omega could barely respond to him without his voice shaking. It’s all thoughts to push down for another day. Or maybe until they disappear forever. Swallows his sick little urges, the white hot coil of desire whenever he catches a glimpse of those bright orange eyes or sharp teeth.

It's bad for omega they're in such close quarters all the time, he watches Alpha too much for his own good. He's a handsome devil. Maybe it's for his own good that Alpha barely takes off that stupid mask, maybe it's wrong that he wants to coax the fire ghoul into taking it off for him more often. Show him how rugged and handsome he is beneath like letting him in on a secret.

He scolds himself in private for the way his throat went dry when Alpha brushed too close, hates that he wished Alpha just pushed his way into his space and stayed there. Omega tried to do his work despite feeling on edge every time he was near alpha, tried not to stare at how alphas muscles flex while he plays. All in a day's work.

The thing is, alpha isn’t stupid (despite whatever the fuck earth has claimed). Its easy to notice omega staring when he whips his head away like he’s been smacked whenever alpha turns to meet his gaze. The shaky voice seems obvious when omega doesn’t sound like that around water. He just can’t miss it, can’t ignore how his pupils blow wide and he chews on his lip when he watches alpha play.

It’s disgusting, quite frankly.

Omega walks into the practice room late one evening while alpha is playing. He seems to know his schedule, somehow omega is able to be near him even when alpha tries to go to the practice room at times he thinks he will be alone. It gets on his nerves, if omega wanted to be around him so badly he could stop fucking stalking him and speak like a normal ghoul.

Alpha sets his guitar to the side when he hears the doorknob turn. Taking a deep breath before getting up to b line towards omega who looks surprised alphas even acknowledged his presence.

Omegas slammed against the wall before he can process alpha has his hands on him. Wide eyed and trying to cower as alpha growls.

“What the fuck is your problem man?”

“I’m sorry?” Omega squeaks. He’s easily taller than alpha by a decent bit, but between his hands he feels impossibly tiny.

“You’re always staring at me, won’t even fucking talk to me like some freak. You act like you’re a 12 year old girl with a crush!” Alpha looks somewhat desperate for an answer, eyes darting over omegas face who looks a little too guilty for such an accusation.

And he’s not denying it.

“Oh god! You do!” Alpha scoffed, pulling back like he’s been scalded, “you should be disgusted, that shits not normal, what would papa think if he knew you liked another ghoul?”

There’s a horrific feeling in Omega's gut as alpha berates him. Something swoops in his belly as alpha backs up as if he’s too filthy to even breathe the same air as him. Omegas turned on by this. It does nothing to deter him, it really only makes him hard and flustered.

Alpha glances down much to his own amusement. Even if he thinks omegas disgusting he can find some entertainment in the fact that he’s turned on by this.

"Didn't wanna believe you were some fucking degenerate but look at you...you're hard over this aren't you? hells...somethings wrong with you,"

Alpha moves to almost cup the front of omegas pants. His touch is too harsh to be pleasurable, like anything softer would be enabling the degeneracy, but omega is still filling out anyways in alpha palm.

"Not supposed to get hard over other men, freak."

Omega can’t even muster up a good response for him. He could try to deny it but there’s no denying anything when alphas palm is pressed to his cock.

“Should throw you back into the pits, papa would be so disappointed” alpha sneers. Omega is red all the way to the tips of his ears and to his humiliation he arches into the press of alphas hand for more stimulation, even when he’s being berated like this.

“You’re sick. You’ve been wanting this haven’t you?” Alpha scoffs in disbelief.

Omega bites his lip hard enough to draw blood, he can’t stop himself from nodding in agreement. Alpha laughs and takes half of a step back, retracting his touch. Omega lets out a quiet groan and almost asks him to touch him again, that fuck, he needs alpha to touch him.

“I’m not fucked up like you megs. I don’t need another man to touch me”

There’s a snarl to alphas voice as he continues to talk, his lips drawn up in disgust as omega stands there pathetically hard and trying to cover himself up. He almost feels bad, omega looks properly guilty. Even if he deserves to feel that way.

Alpha makes a decision that can really only be blamed on the heat of the room and the fact that he’s burned through most of the siblings that want him. If omegas going to be a desperate freak, alpha may as well get off if he’s willing.

There’s barely any force in alphas touch as he pushes omega to his knees, he goes down mostly willingly and alpha tries not to look disgusted when omega seems excited that he’s pulling his cock out.

“Mouths a mouth, no different from a girl I guess” alpha mumbles under his breath. Omega reaches to help him guide into his mouth before alpha is smacking his hands away with a hiss “you’re just some hole for me to put my dick in, keep your filthy hands to yourself”

Omegas mouth falls wide open when alpha takes himself out fully and gives himself a few good strokes to harden up. He’s bigger than omega expected, he would’ve wanted him at any size but god he hopes alpha doesn’t hear him whimper when he sees how big he is.

“You’re such a bitch” Alpha scowls, rolls his eyes as omega looks euphoric when he pushes between his lips.

Before omega knows it alpha has his head back against the wall. He’s completely pinned with his hips, nowhere to retreat to as he fucks his mouth and uses him to get off.

It’s a quick sequence of events, alpha pulling out to cum on the floor next to him before cumming down his throat would be some dirty admission to wanting it. Omega looks sad when he watches alpha shoot right onto the tile, even if the sight of alpha blissed out above him is something he will replay for weeks.

Alpha doesn’t say much, just tucks himself back into his pants, helps omega up and gives him a “you ok?” Before leaving without another word when omega gives him a nod.

It’s the start of a bad habit.

As much as alpha doesn’t want to admit it to himself, he halfway enjoyed himself even if his brain was screaming at him not to. He would never admit it, never tell omega that. He’s just some willing participant in alpha needing to get off, no different from a sex doll. Or a whatever easy sibling he can find in the alley ways. Right?

He doesn’t want to say it happens often. Or at least too often for alpha to keep claiming is a coincidence. Always just bullies omega into some tight space away from any prying eyes or ears and forces his mouth open for him to stick his dick into. Hell maybe he even goads him into touching himself if he really is feeling mean.

“You fucking gross enough to get off with just a cock in your mouth? Pathetic.”

Alpha tries not to think about the fact that he can.

He tries not to think about when he cums on his face because he didn’t pull out fast enough and omega sticks his tongue out to catch it, tries not to let the image of omega covered in his cum stick in his brain too much.

And for omega? He provokes it. He wants alpha to bully him, wants his cock in his mouth and god he’s too easy to rile up to pass on the opportunity everytime it rears its ugly head. He shouldn’t revel in being so immoral and dirty, but honestly it’s hard not to.

He rubs against him a bit in the chapel, shoulder to shoulder and much closer than he ever has been because alpha can’t do anything about it. Brushes against he hand as they leave with a look behind him that is devilish even through the uniform mask. Longing touches throughout the day that have alpha growling until he gets annoyed enough to confront him in the empty practice room.

“Fucking pervert” alpha sneers, “you’re lucky I don’t just out you to everyone else, tell them what you’ve really been asking from me after practice”

A pang of humiliation runs through omega as it usually does in these scenarios, feeling almost blasphemous about his feelings but can’t help that alpha does all but discourage it.

“Still need my cock down your throat? So pathetic you’re willing to let me use you just so someone will touch you?”

Omega doesn’t answer. He has no excuse for himself. Even if he did he doesn’t care much considering how hard it makes him when alpha speaks to him like this, and alpha knows it.

Just drops to his knees, he knows the routine. But alpha has a different idea.

“Not this time, stand up facing the wall”

Omega gives him a confused look. This can’t be what he thinks it is, can it? He does what he’s told anyways, stands up and places his arms on the wall, looking back at alpha expectantly.

“Wanted a real pussy tonight I think. Might as well see if yours is even good enough for me to get off”

Omegas brain short circuits as alpha quickly pulls his pants down, leaving him exposed while alpha simply pulls his dick just out of his waistband. An extra hint of embarrassment, and an extra reminder of what omegas really there for.

Alpha is rough, barely gives omega time to react to him putting his hands on his waist before he’s finally pushing in. Omega tries to brace himself but he can’t help the needy moan he lets out when alpha bottoms out inside of him.

“Stay fucking silent, I don’t need the reminder that you might actually cum from this”

He can’t, no matter how hard he tries. Sure he’s been fucked before but it doesn’t happen often. Usually it’s him alone in his room with a cheap toy feeling guilty for thinking about alpha, but actually being split on alphas cock in another story. He bites down so hard on his sleeve he’s sure he’s left holes in it while alpha continues to fuck him relentlessly.

The hand on omegas hips burns as alpha holds him flush to himself. He grips his skin like he has no regard for omegas own comfort and omega hates how much he loves it. It’s rough, he’s sure he will feel it for days and honestly an awful part of him hopes alpha burns right through the top layer of skin so his print sticks forever.

Omega doesn’t take much to get close, already dizzy with alpha shoving his pants down so he can use him. He gets a hand on his cock and gives himself a couple strokes before he’s spilling all over his fist and part of the wall.

Alpha ignores omegas whimpers as he fucks him through his orgasm. He pulls out and cums on the floor next to him, as if it makes the situation any less disgusting for him.

“Faggot” alpha growls, buttoning his pants to leave omega panting.

There’s a part of omega that knows he shouldn’t let that get to him, that he should ignore it and call alpha a dick after he pulls up his own pants but he can’t deny how that makes him feel hot, a burning blush creeping up his chest at the word.

His fingers curl around his cock once he gets back to his room, free hand around his throat as he thinks about that deep raspy voice insulting him, degrading him like he’s worthless. It’s pathetic, he know it and he can’t stop, can’t stop letting alpha do whatever he wants to him despite there being that little voice in his head saying it’s wrong. He needs to stop, but the second alpha looks his way the voice gets drowned out with the need to have his cock in him again.

Omegas hand reaches down to prod at his hole. He wiggles three fingers inside. Moaning at how he’s still loose from alphas cock. His mind keeps repeating how alpha called it a pussy, it shouldn’t have his cock leaking onto his stomach, but he can’t help himself.

There has to come a boiling point. Enough quick fucks and blow jobs in secret corners of where they practice that omega gets sick of it. Alpha can degrade him till his heart's content but at the end of the day he’s still coming back to omega, still using him instead of a sibling to get off even if he claims omega isn’t better than some pussy he could find from a cheap prostitute.

It’s a bad routine. Once a week or so alpha just gets pent up and takes it out on omega. Fucking him or shoving his dick down his throat before he inevitably snarls some half thought out insult and tries to cum anywhere but in him.

Alpha walks back to his room late one night after practice alongside omega who keeps his hands shoved into his pockets but won’t stop taking side glances at him. He wants to wipe that stupid innocent look off of his face, he should be disgusted with himself.

He pulls him into the shadow of the side of one of the taller buildings in the abbey. Somewhere they won’t be seen so he can defile him and make him feel filthy and act like it never happened.

Omegas sick of it, sick of alpha acting like he’s better than him even if he’s still the one to initiate every act. Sick of him acting like he’s too good to touch omega even when he comes back time and time again. The tug on his wrist only makes him angry. It’s cold outside, alpha could’ve done this earlier and honestly it’s about time he showed him even the slightest bit of human decency.

He waits until alpha has him in their usual position. Tucked away with his back pressed against the wall and a small prayer that one will find them this time. Even if it’s cold and dirty outside omega does complain, alpha would just say he didn’t deserve any better for being such a pervert.

“If you want this so bad then you won’t complain”

Omega doesn’t fall to his knees like he usually does. He barely even lets himself be pressed against the harsh brick of the wall behind him.

“Thought you wanted a cock in you fag, you know how this goes” alpha rolls his eyes, attempting to bracket omgea in just to get the extra step up on him.

“Seem to really want me on my knees” omega taunts. He tries not to smile and egg him on but the way alpha nearly chokes has him feeling almost giddy with the small amount of power.

“I could find a better mouth to fuck from any one of the siblings, don’t think I don’t just use you because you’re easy”

“Easy? You’re the one who needs to use me because you can’t get anyone else. Was starting to think you actually like it”

Alpha fumes, shoves omega against the wall so hard he’s honestly surprised he doesn’t actually injure him. He pins him there by his neck, almost hoping to scratch his skin against the rough brick. Wants to leave some kind of mark to remind him of practically being alphas toy. His hand pins omega to the brick by his throat, giving him a low snarl and a flash of his teeth.

“You’re barely good enough to touch, let alone fuck. Should be groveling at my feet to let me fuck you, I’m basically doing you a favor by letting you indulge in your sick fantasies”

The confident facade is hard to keep up as the blood rushes from omegas head down south as he tries not to scramble to be able to breathe. He fucking likes alphas hand around his throat like this, knows he’s hard and can only pray alpha can’t feel it rub against his thigh.

“Don’t know why I’d let such a disgusting fag anywhere meat me, knew you’d get attached like some stray dog” alpha lets go of his throat, hand shooting away from omegas skin like he’s too filthy to touch.

“Fitting you’d think of me as some bitch since you fuck me like one. Might as well just call me yours since you act like I’m just your whore to use.”

Alpha swings. Can’t help himself. His fist connects with omega square in the mouth sending omega back into the wall behind him.

Omega gives him a cruel smile with blood in his teeth wiping away the small dribble that ran down his chin.

“Because you like it. Admit it alpha, you’re no better than me”

Alpha feels cornered as omega walks towards him, he’s not like him, not a weird freak, nothing like the filthy thing that omega is.

“I know you get hard just thinking about me, know you love using my mouth otherwise you wouldn’t come back. Admit how much you love using my pussy” omega corrals him into the corners looking him up and down like he’s stalking him. Alphas red in the face, breathing heavy from anger. He spits as a last ditch attempt to get omega away from him. His words bore deep into his brain, echos through his head about how much he enjoys fucking omega even if he insists he doesn’t.

“Come on, tell me how much you want it. Sure you’re getting hard already aren’t you?”

Alpha doesn’t move, doesn’t tell omega to fuck off, doesn’t say no. Just stares at him with a grimace like he’s willing to take whatever omegas going to give him.

“You could leave at anytime, tells us something doesn’t it?” Omega taunts. Alpha crosses his arms in front of him, eyes lowering at omegas form trying to see what his angle is. The blood shines on omegas teeth in the moonlight, adding a malicious glint to his stature.

“Thought I could give you a taste of your own medicine, if you’re apparent so much better than me you won’t even like it, won’t do anything to you to have my cock in your ass”

“Absolutely not”

“Why? Think you’ll like it just as much as I will?”

Alpha grimaces at omega admitting out loud that he enjoys this, wants him. Sometimes twists in his stomach that he truly can’t make out as dread or arousal. The idea of getting off has him still glued in his place, even if omega was a degenerate, alpha still got something out this whole ordeal that he was willing to put up with in order to get his dick wet.

“Fucking- just do it already” alpha finally relents. He looks away from omega and presses himself to the wall, staring at the gravel beneath him. He takes a deep breath, waiting for omegas hands to be on him.

“Oh absolutely not, you gotta tell me you want it” omega growls low in his ear. Alpha can smell the blood on his breath, can picture the way his mouth looks covered in crimson right by his neck.

“I want it” alpha grits. “Just do it already before I change my mind”

Omega smiles and places a hand in his hip, giving him another second to decide to run or not. Alpha stays in place, and if omega didn’t know him like he did he could’ve swore he was leaning into the touch.

He partially wants to go fast, wants to treat alpha like he treated him, but a horrible part of omega wants to savor it, go slow and make him actually enjoy it.

The wall is rough and tears at alphas callused hands as he tries to almost grip it for leverage. Omega tugs at his waistband, shoving his pants down in the back of the alleyway, only adding to the shame and embarrassment he knows he’s feeling. He reaches around to the front to of him to finally grab at his cock that is rapidly fattening in his hand.

“Already enjoying this? Thought it would take more than that” omega chuckles.

A hand slowly runs over his thigh, feeling him up like he has all the time in the world. One hand stroking him lazily just to really get alpha hard, the other groping at his ass. Alpha lets out a breathy curse when omega runs his thumb over the head of his cock, milking a drop of precum from the tip.

“Can you do something already?” Alpha mutters. One arm is thrown over his eyes as he leans on it against the wall, hips pushing back into omega as he continues to stroke his thigh.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you, promise I’ll make you feel good”

Alpha tries not to let omegas soft tone go to his head. The soft and slow nature of his touching and breathy small praises has his head spinning. It’s as slow as possible, much to the detriment of alpha who hoped he would go too fast for him to enjoy himself.

Omega spreads him open, thumbing at his hole before spitting into his hand as a mock form of lube. Alpha looks behind him and almost collapses further into the wall when he sees the saliva and blood from his mouth mixing on his fingers.

[joviepog]

Oh god this might become an issue. I’m in my hunger games phase and I’ve reread all the books and rewatched like, all the movies. So now I’m head over heels for young!coriolanus. Lmao enjoy my first BOSAS fic!

-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-

Weakness

Warnings: Mention of killing, cursing, suggestive if you squint really hard, kissing (if I missed anything let me know!)

Who: Young! Coriolanus x reader

Pronouns: She / her

Word count: 1,122 words

Tag list: @phxntomsdusk @haunted-headset @ax-y10 @radio-to-trenchcoat-demons (ask to be added)

Main plot: Corio realizes he finally has a weakness after so long, you.

This story is NOT proofread!

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-

Snow is used to being the most powerful in the room. He’s used to having control. He likes having control. In all his years he had never had power until now. So when he finds out he finally has a weakness after so many years, he almost panics. Almost.

Corio would only have one weakness. Your smile. And at first, he didnt pay it any mind.

He didnt pay it any mind when you were just an option. He didnt care at all when all he cared about was if you were dutiful enough to be the first lady of Panem.

But now?

God he hated himself for not paying it any mind beforehand. Because now that you sit here, next to him in a counsel meeting, he regrets ever picking you to be his wife. The way you smile sends his heart aflame. The way your eyes close and your head tilts when you smile makes his breath hitch ever so slightly. You were like the sun in a room filled with cold hearted people. Your dress only brought out your smile more and he hated the people that let you wear such a beautiful outfit.

For so long he tried to avoid seeing you. It was more because he saw no point in seeing you. The only reason he married you was for the money and for the eyes of the people. Not for love, not for romance, and definitely not for his own selfish desires. And at first it stayed that way. He feared that the more he saw your beautiful smile, the more in danger he would become. He only saw you during important counsel meetings that you had to attend to.

At first, he was going to “get rid of you” because of his new found weakness. He was going to blame it on “natural causes” and hope he could find another wife. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He told himself that it was “just in the meantime” so that he could have time to find a new wife. But suddenly he started looking forward to those counsel meetings. And suddenly he started to see you in the hallways, or the library, or even the garden.

Totally not because he had memorized your entire schedule.

He hated how fucking weak you made him feel. He wanted to figure out why. Why had you made his heart skip a beat ever time you spoke? Why had you made him choke on his own drink when you would simply look at him with a warmhearted smile? Why was it that you had him following you like a lovesick puppy around the mansion?

Why. Why. Why

To find his answers, he started to speak to you. Only to find answers of course. When he would see you in the library he would make smalltalk. He started to dine with you instead of eating in his office. He started to walk you to your chambers to make sure you got there safe. He even walked with you in the garden on a daily just to see y- to get answers.

He wrote all his feelings down one day. Just like a child would write in a diary. And he hated it. So he burned it and made sure there was o evidence of his lovesick words. He would toss and turn every night, thinking about you, wondering why the hell he felt the way he did. He would daydream everyday at work when you weren’t there, imagining you smiling in front of him. And when you were there he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

Why were you so kind? Why did you smile at him every day? Why did you bring him his favorite food twice a week to his office?Why did he feel so helpless around you?

Why. Why. Why.

He asked himself this for a whole year. He soon began to get eye bags from not sleeping enough at night due to his tossing and turning. (He had to cover them up with makeup for public appearances) He soon became fond of your walks in the garden. (Sometimes holding your hand and adding more of the flowers you liked) He soon bought you new bookmarks with different colored roses for your books. (One almost every week) He soon began to pop into your office with your favorite food twice a week just to see your smile. (Just like you had done)

He was completely clueless to his own feeling. His thought process was that it was “For you not to feel uncomfortable.” It wasn’t until one day he overheard of the maids talking about how happy he had seemed since you came that something had clicked. Every time he was with you a slime crawled on his face. Every time he looked at you his gaze softened. Hell, every time he heard your name he would instantly cheer up!

“Shit.” He grumbled as he turned around and went to find you.

‘One last test.’ He thought. ‘One last test to see if i really do love her.’

So, he barged into the library. He saw you sitting by a large window, face hidden in a book and the sunlight hitting you softly. You looked like a goddess. You perked up when you saw him, a smile appearing on your face. That damn smile was going to be the end of him. “Coriolanus! I thought you had just left for a meeting-“ You were quickly stopped when he moved the book from your hands and kissed you.

It was an angry kiss -sure- but a passionate one at that. It took you a second to process what was happening before you kissed back. He put his hand on your cheeks as he bent down to kiss you on your chair. You could only put your hands on his chest to steady yourself. After a few moments, he pulled away and put his head on yours. You both gasped for air softly and his lips were only a few centimeters away. He looked down to your lips and you blushed. “Coriolanus? What was that fo-“

“It’s Corio for you. Corio.” He interrupts. You smile, that damn smile that captivated him a year ago. “Okay then Corio. What was that for?” He pulls away and smiles at you before turning away, “Just double checking something.” He then walks away and leaves you dumbfounded on the chair. And as he walks through the long hallway of his mansion, he tastes the strawberry chapstick that you had on his lips. He smiles as he walks to his meeting. What was he going to do with you? His only weakness.

If you do want to be added on my tag list pls let me know! If you want to be taken off, private message me :)

[lexisology]

appreciation post 2024-2025 ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

i made a mistake in my calculations so posting this now! happy 2024, and im glad I can welcome 2025 with you guys in my life and mind 🤍 (sorry if you didn’t wish to be tagged)

@ashipiko

ASHI!!! i admire you so much your yume is so good and your art is so awesome.. UGHHH I LOVE UR WORK SO MUCH I JUSR WANT TO LET YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I APPRECIATE YOU!! you’re so funny too, and just an absolute joy to see on my dash.. thank you for sharing your art with us 🤍

@ceruleancattail

HAPPY NEW YEAR CERU!!! pretty sure this is our second new year knowing eachother hello?! you are and were such an inspiration to me when i first came on tumblr and i look up to you sm! i adore you, your work, and your kindness! you’re very impressive and im happy I found you!

@camvrin

oh oli dear there is rare enough anything i can say here that I haven’t said before! you brought such light into my life, I smile so much more often since you came and I’m so grateful I’ve met you. you are so stunning, you’re kindness is so unique to you and your heart is so blessed (i want to shield it from the world), i adore you dearly! and im so happy we are in touch. you’re so funny and I just want to make you sooo happy. im so grateful for all the support you’ve shown me, and how kind you are to me, thank you for always being there 🤍!

@floraldresvi

VI!!! oh my darling dresvi you make me feel so loved, both by you and my f/o’s! I admire you so much and I want to grow into an adult like you are! you’re so kind, caring, and so inclusive to everyone around and I love you soooo much! you were one of my first mutuals on here and you made me want to stay! thank you so much for a fun two years now. love you and baivi dearly :)

@kaiserkisser

oh skylia the darling ever I appreciate you so much!!! another of my oldest friends and someone I value closely, although we don’t interact you’re such a darling and I ADORE seeing you post. never change bb, you’re awesome how you are, and I love your heart and soul! take care in 2025 bb happy i met you

@kalims

ROSA!!! you’re so COOL holy i admire you so much!! you’re so caring and AWESOME DJSJEJEJ i look up to you so much and you were (are!) one of my biggest writing inspirations! i love your writing, formatting, and your themes dearly! I can’t believe I can just pop in and say hi and you’d respond thats crazy to me. im so grateful i found you!

@milk-violet

MIREI!! i just met you this year but you made this year so memorable!! i got so comfortable with you so quickly its kinda crazy.. im not complaining though im so eternally grateful for it! you’re like a sister to me and I adore you so dearly! love love love you! you’re so funny, and always make me laugh just as much as you make me smile with your sweet words! you’re so supportive of me and my ocs and my selfships and just everything and im so so grateful to have this energy in my life! I hope we get to speak more and more as 2025 comes up and i can make you just as happy as you’ve made me!!

@mondaymelon

MELON!! you’re so cool, your ocs and art are things im awestruck at!! you’re so strong and so cool and epic and and and!!! i admire you and your passions very much! we don’t talk so much but whenever you post i do adore each and every one LMAO! you’re awesome.

@mlkbwunnies

oh ying :( you’re an older mutual of mine, and one im so grateful i met last year 🤍 you’re just the sweetest and so so redeeming. every conversation we have js so comforting, and I try to follow in your footsteps and be as kind and soft as you are! you’re so cool and i admire you in every way out there. thank you for making my 2024 so much better!

@melitheduck

MELIIII MY OLDEST FRIEND I KNOW ON HERE WE’VE KNOWN EACHOTHER FOR LIKE 2 YEARS NOW!! before i was on tumblr,,, and you’re just the sweetest soul out there. everything about you is cute, and nice and oh i adore you so much!!! you’re just so comforting to speak too and so silly i love you.

@soleillunne

ALY!! you’re so awesome and just??? the way you write so much for everyone and all the gifts you give you’re just a beloved gift yourself . you’re so strong and so adored and i’m so grateful I know you. we don’t talk the most but do know I see you on my dash, and i send u hugs everytime i do 🤍

@tiredsleep

you’re one of my newer friends but you’ve become such a consistent part of my schedule its crazy. you put up with my shenanigans and you’re so cool and mature (sometimes/lh) and I’m so grateful for how you listen to me talk about my ocs all the time, truly it means so much to me how willing you are too listen! you’re dear to me and I hope I can provide the same happiness you provide me!!!