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bloggerspam · 2 months ago

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Not Exactly the Apple of my Eye

I wrote this for the @haunting-heroes-creative-games WWT Myths game last month, and subsequently co-won my first game!

Figured I'd post it here too, now that all the reveals have happened---have a DPxYJ/DPxDC Snow White AU Crack fic!

===

"You gotta be kidding me," Kon says as he looks down at himself, "this can't be real, right?"

"Feels pretty real to me!" Bart chirps happily, fiddling with his overly large green sleeves.

"Rad." Tim rolls his eyes, crossing his arms and popping his hip and yawning like a disgruntled cat. Sarcasm practically drips from every orifice of his body language, even as he looks 2 seconds away from falling asleep.

"Is this what I think it is?" Cassie yells from further into the room, the sound of a small clamor echoing behind her words.

"If by it you mean some kind of inter-dimensional fucky wucky, then yeah!" Kon waves his arms around, gesturing to the room at large even if she can't see; Tim and Bart can, and that's all that matters. "I think so!"

"No, I mean is this Snow White?" Cassie clarifies as she comes huffing into the room. She too is adjusting her clothes as best she can, trying to figure out what to do with the glasses suddenly on her face.

The four of them stand gathered in the middle of the cottage they've been dumped into, freshly shrunken in height, stripped of their powers and gadgets and suits, and dressed in what seems to be simple cotton peasant shirts and work leggings.

They also have comically large and weirdly soft and sturdy leather shoes, of the Snow White Dwarf variety.

"Aren't there supposed to be seven of us?" Tim mumbles thoughtfully, another yawn causing him to slump and looking mad about it.

"How can you be so calm about this?" Kon huffs, picking up Tim with very little resistance for once and dumping the yawning boy onto a bed labelled Sleepy. Kon himself grumbles as he takes a seat on the next bed over labelled Grumpy.

An angry Kryptonian is not a great idea. Who let this be okay?

"I'm not calm about this…" Tim yawns once more, irritated, "I just can't think straight, I'm too tired."

"You don't sleep on a daily basis though?" Bart walks his way to his own bed, labeled Dopey and test bouncing it. "But it seems fitting at least. Plus, You're not straight anyway. Who's Cassie supposed to be?"

"Doc, I think." Cassie goes to her own bed, looking at it dubiously before deciding to ignore it completely. "He's the only one with glasses right?"

"That…" Tim is curled up on his side now, "still…doesn't answer…"

Soft snores start to drift through the room, another anomaly, considering Tim doesn't actually snore.

"What did the genie lady say?" Bart starfishes on his bed, making snow angels with no snow, "This is all because you decided to hit on her anyway."

"How was I supposed to know?!" Kon angrily pulls the covers off his bed to dump over Tim. "All I said was that she was pretty!"

Before anybody else can say anything, there's another clatter outside the cottage.

"Seriously!?" A voice screams, "Seriously?! Three years and you-" A violent sneeze interrupts the voice—"-still make fucking wishes?"

A small murmur answers the voice, barely audible.

Kon, Cassie and Bart look at each other, before scrambling over to the door. Tim stays dead asleep. When they burst out, tumbling over each other, they're met with the other three dwarves: A young gothic looking girl who keeps sneezing, an African American boy hiding behind another boy with a bedsheet of all things tied around his neck like a cape. The caped boy, with his black hair and blue eyes, looks like he's trying to be a knock off superman.

Kon does not like that. At all.

"Hey!" Rao, it's like he has no control over his temper, "Were you guys fucked over by the genie lady too?"

"Language~" Bart singsongs, giggling. The gothic girl whirls towards them, angry like spitfire, and sneezing just as violently.

"Hello, citizens!" Super-knock-off intones, "What brings you into the ill graces of Desiree?"

"If by Desiree you mean the genie lady," Cassie jabs a thumb at him, "then this guy hit on her."

"O-oh," The shy boy still hiding behind Super-knock-off is blushing hard enough that Kon can see it even with his darker skin, "w-wow, you're pretty…"

"Thanks!" Cassie smiles, winking at him. "The ladies love it, anyway."

The boy squeaks, hiding behind super-knock-off again. Goth-girl rolls her eyes before addressing Cassie.

"Desiree hates that-" a sneeze, "-kind of shit." Goth-girl rubs her nose, to which the bashful boy passes her a tissue from his backpack as if dealing with a rabid animal. The girl takes it with a scoff-turned-sneeze.

"Figured." Cassie shrugs, waving to herself. "I'm Cassie, by the way. Grumpy over here is Connor, and Cutie Pie down here is Bart."

Kon huffs, waving begrudgingly as Bart does a happy little wave.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Danny!" Super-knock off puffs out his chest, before gesturing to the once more sneezing Goth. "This is Sam, and behind me is Tucker!"

"We're not—usually like this." Sam sniffles, sneezing between pauses, "Danny's usually more chill, and Tucker's not this—shy. But if my—math is mathing, it's because—of the dwarf traits."

"Why does being Happy make him so…" Kon sneers, "Do-goodey?"

"Long story. We call him Super Danny in this state." Tucker smiles, peeking out a little more, "Fun Danny was better."

"Hey!" Danny wraps an arm around his friend to bring him up to the forefront, causing Tucker to squeak. "Super Danny had his moments!"

"Where's-" Sam sneezes four times in a row, "-Sleepy?"

"Our friend Tim." Bart gestures towards inside the house, "He's napping in one of the beds inside. He's usually an insomniac, so this is actually pretty great!"

"So," Cassie gets them back on track as they all convene around a sleeping Tim. "Do you guys know how to escape?"

"That is difficult," Danny hums, patting at Tucker who seems to be taking deep breaths to overcome his shyness. Kon tries to follow suit, to temper himself. "Did you perhaps make a wish when hitting on Desiree?"

Kon felt his face go blotchy red, rubbing at his cheek with the back of his hand and looking away.

"Connor." Cassie's voice goes threatening, hands on her hips like a mom scolding a child.

"All I said was Move over Snow White, 'cause you're truly the fairest in the land!" Kon grumbles, crossing his arms. "And that she made me all Bashful, or whatever! I didn't wish for anything!"

"All I did was wish Sam would lighten up," Tucker scratches the back of his neck, inching closer to Danny when Sam bears her teeth. "Normally Desiree would just make Sam glow, or something."

"Who is Desiree anyway?" Bart starts to frown down at himself, rubbing his tummy absentmindedly. "We were just having lunch with Tim's brother-"

Suddenly Kon, Cassie and Bart whip their heads towards each other, exclaiming at the same time: "Dick!"

"Language?" Tucker, who had startled at the sudden yelling and is firmly hiding behind Danny again.

"No, Tim's brother, Richard—he goes by Dick." Cassie explains as the three of them separate to look under furniture and through the house for the older man. They collectively ignore the whispered on purpose? from the other trio.

"He was with us when we got snapped here." Tim yawns, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. "Who are you?"

The new trio introduces themselves to Tim as the rest of them split. Kon is looking under the beds, Bart is upstairs, and Cassie is opening cabinets in the kitchen, if the sounds are to be believed.

"This doesn't really feel like Desiree's usual fare." Sam taps her foot, for some reason the only dwarf who was able to keep her own black studded combat boots. It looks comical paired with her brown shirt and red pants. At least the black belt matches?

"How would you," Tim yawns, standing up and leaning heavily against Kon when he comes back around. "Usually…get rid of her?"

"Usually Phantom would deal with her." Tucker mumbles as Sam starts to pace. She's no longer sneezing now that they're inside, which seems odd.

"Who's Phantom?" Bart's voice bounces as he descends the stairs back to join them. "He's not upstairs, by the way."

"He's Amity Park's local hero!" Danny flashes a gleaming smile, before frowning. "Truly a mystery why she's hanging out around Bludhaven."

"What were you guys-" Kon is interrupted by Sam, who knocks twice on the window she's stopped in front of.

"Uh, guys?" She's staring at something confusedly, "Is Dick…uh, black haired, wearing eye-searingly ugly patterns?"

"That's…" Tim yawns again, sluggishly making his way over to Sam, "probably…him."

"I think he's in the backyard?" Sam tilts her head, "and I think we've found our Snow White."

The seven of them gather quickly around the window, pushing and shoving and…

"Is that a fucking glass coffin?"

===

Jazz has fucked up.

Oooooh she's definitely fucked up.

How was she supposed to know Ghost Writer and Desiree just wanted to hang out?

How was she supposed to know that Desiree's cousin was Scheherazade?

How was she supposed to know Ghost Writer knew that infamous One Thousand and One Night's protagonist?

She just wanted to finally meet her online friend and talk about Jane Austen books, have dinner with her brother and his friends in Bludhaven after!

She really should have aimed better. Stupid thermos, Danny always made it seem so easy!

Now she's running around in this random forest trying to find her brother and his friends dressed like some kind of Prince.

Why do Princes wear such white tights? It's impractical is what it is, there's already a bunch of dirt on the back of her calves!

She's been in this forest for what feels like hours when she hears it; sweet salvation in the form of other people. Jazz frantically makes her way towards it.

"—Snow White?" A boyish voice asks.

"Well, he's certainly—achoo!—pretty enough for it." Sam is saying—is she with the others? "Even with all…that going on."

"At least Danny isn't in the coffin this time?" Tucker sounds unusually shy and timid—it makes Jazz quicken her steps and almost trip over tree roots at least twice.

"Hey—" An unfamiliar feminine voice cuts in, "Tucker, what does that mean?"

"Worry not, Cassie!" Danny! Oh sweet souls, Danny!! "It's an inside joke!"

"It's not really funny…" Another voice, sounding sleepy beyond compare and yawning like a "…is it?"

"Believe it or not," The mysterious feminine voice, Cassie cuts in. "He's usually the one in charge of the brain-cell. We're smart too, he just has no humor."

"I…" Another yawn, "...resent that."

"Tim just doesn't have that sense of whimsy!" That first boyish voice cuts in, ignoring who Jazz presumes is Tim.

"Does that mean we have to find a Prince?" Another masculine voice, angry and fed up, "In the forest?"

And, well, there's never been a better time for Jazz to stumble ass over kettle into the clearing.

"Jazz!" Her trio yells in greeting, rushing over to her as she rights herself. She blinks.

They're all…a lot smaller than she left them. No matter, hugs first, confusion later. (And crying/yelling much much later after that).

They're small enough for her to hoist all three into her arms, even as she notices the other four dwarves and the…glass coffin housing a fully grown man.

"What the—" Jazz whispers, eyeing the strangers.

"Are you the Prince?" Danny asks, and in this form he reminds her so much of when he was little—she wants to squeal but she won't, she won't.

"I think I am." Jazz answers, putting everyone down as they clamor to introduce the new kids and update her on the situation. Jazz, through years of dealing with her brother's trio, manages to understand and reciprocate the exchange of information.

"So I have to kiss him?" Jazz looks at the man, Dick, in the glass coffin dubiously. "I don't even know him?"

"This might be the first time someone's seen him and not kissed him on sight." Bart jokes, "Or, at least, not wanted to."

"Consent is important." Jazz scrunches up her face in consternation. "I will not subject someone to a kiss when they cannot consent."

"What about a kiss on the…hand?" Tim yawns, desperately trying to stay awake. "Nobody…said you had to kiss him on the…lips."

Jazz makes a face in thought. Hm. "What about you?"

"What…about me?" Jazz gestures at Dick when Tim looks at her in confusion.

"He's your brother, you love him, right?" Jazz picks up the sleeping man's hand. "Nobody said it had to be romantic love. Besides, again, I don't believe in love at first sight. I'm demi."

"Demi like, demigod?" Cassie's brow furrows. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Demi as in demi-sexual or-" Sam sneezes, "-demi-romantic."

Tim seems to think on that a moment, before shrugging. "I do love him. And I used to have a crush on him when I was little, before I got adopted." He picks up the hand and kisses it lightly.

"Oh dude, same." Connor laughs, turning to them. "I think everyone's had a crush on Dick before."

"Not me!" Cassie harrumphs to Bart's laughter and agreement. "Though I do love the guy."

"That doesn't count!" Connor huffs, "Lesbians and Aces are obviously excluded!"

"I'm Ace…" Tucker shyly raises his hand, making a little eep! sound when everyone turns to him. "And I, uhm, have eyes. He's real pretty…"

"Fairest of them all," Sam sniffles, sort of agreeing. "And all that."

"I think," Danny cuts in, "That you have no choice here Jazz. I'm sorry, but it doesn't seem like Tim's kiss is the solution!"

Jazz eyes the sleeping man once more, pursing her lips. No, she really doesn't think she'll do that. Pretty as he is, he's a stranger. And bodily autonomy is important, even if it's just his hand. It sounds like this guy has a lot of admirers, but nobody's actually said anything about how Dick himself feels about it.

Plus, he definitely looks at least a couple years older than her. Though it's hard to tell when you're in your mid twenties.

"Just think of it this way, Jazz." Danny tries to gently say, "You're saving his life, sort of. Like CPR."

Jazz hums, leaning over the man and observing the man's throat. Hm...

"What's she taking so long for?" Cassie whispers, to which Sam only sneezes in response.

Jazz grabs the man by the shoulders, sitting him up and…whack!

"Jazz!" The chorus of children yell at her, some even grabbing at her but she ignores them.

She gives the man's back another smack! And then another, and another until—

Hack! Dick coughs out the piece of poisoned apple lodged in his throat, taking in deep breaths as Jazz rubs his back in support.

"Th-thanks." Dick wipes at his mouth, smiling up gratefully at Jazz. She smiles back, before stepping away to let Tim and his little friends crowd over Dick and give him hugs.

Sam, Tucker and Danny make their way to Jazz, and they watch the reunion fondly.

"How'd you know that would work?" Danny asks her, laughing as Jazz shrugs.

"In the original fairy tale, the Prince discovers Snow White in her glass coffin and decides to keep her because she's so beautiful." Jazz bares her teeth in disgust. "The guards that were with him were kind of clumsy and dropped the casket on its corner, dislodging the apple piece from Snow White's throat. She wakes up, and then they get married."

"That's…" Tucker whispers, shuddering.

"Yeah." Jazz rubs her arms. "Figured I'd give it a shot. Thankfully it worked."

Just as Dick gets out of the coffin, the world around them starts to waver. The dwarven teenagers flicker until they're bigger, almost glitching into their original sizes and proportions. Sam stops sneezing, Tim stops yawning and falling asleep (though he still sports eyebags the size of Guam), and Danny's little blanket sheet disappears.

Jazz, Dick, and seven 17 year olds suddenly find themselves in the middle of the streets of Bludhaven, in the outdoor seating of the local restaurant all of them were eating at before the whole debacle.

Ghost Writer and Desiree are sitting at one of the tables, having tea.

"Well, that was certainly quick." Ghost Writer mumbles, Desiree groaning as she puts down her cup. "I thought we'd have at least a couple more hours."

"I knew I shouldn't have set win conditions." Desiree pouts. "We were just getting to the good part!"

"Every story has to have some kind of conclusion." Ghost Writer argues, jabbing his mug at her. "Besides, I can just-"

"Yeah. Nope." Danny deadpans, grabbing his backpack and jabbing a hand into the bag. "Fuck you."

Before Ghost Writer Desiree can do more than charge an ecto-blast, Danny pulls out a Fenton Thermos and aims it expertly at the two, sucking them up with very little fuss and muss. Jazz is not jealous or mad about it. At all.

As long as she doesn't have to wear those stupid white tights again, everything is A-OK.

"Well." Dick breathes, putting his hands on his hips like some kind of mom. "That was...anti-climactic."

"What the hell was that?" Tim asks Danny, trying to get a closer look at the thermos, "Is that a thermos?"

Jazz looks up at the restaurant, waving over a sever as she takes a seat and beckons for everyone else to do the same. The others start to squish in a couple tables and take seats.

"I'm sure everyone has questions," Jazz smiles up at the waitress in thanks as she passes out menus. "But first, since it's still…" She checks her watch, "just past three, lets have a late lunch, shall we?"

"As long as there's no apple pie for dessert." Dick laughs, opening up his own menu to peruse.

"As you wish!" Jazz rolls her eyes, grinning. Everyone at the table groans.

#danny phantom #young justice #core four #snow white au #dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #my writing #dick grayson #jazz fenton #everlasting trio

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pitchsidestories · 6 months ago

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ex's and snow II Leah Williamson x Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 3583

summary: a snow-covered hut in the Swiss Alps with a few good friends and ex-girlfriend Leah Williamson. Can the former lovers find each other again before the snow melts, or are they simply not meant to be together?

author's note: our first fanfic of 2025, we took our time and tried to make it a bit longer than usual and hope you like it.🥰🥰

The laughter got stuck in your throat when you saw your ex-girlfriend in the corridor.

Just seconds before, you were talking to Mariona and Ana Maria about a funny moment in the dressing room when you were all still playing for Barcelona. The short walk from the car to the cozy looking cottage had felt to you like a scene from the Last Christmas music video where good friends were having a good time together in a snow-capped cottage like this one was.

The magic of the enchanting setting was gone when you looked into the blue eyes of your former lover.

“Leah.”, you muttered in utter shock.

The looks she was sending you across the room were cold as the ice: ”You.”

Behind your back Mariona, Lia and Ana Maria stood silently as they watched the drama unfold in front of their eyes.

Both of your heads turned around to shot deadly glances at your mutual friend. “Keira Fae Walsh!”

“I didn’t do anything.”, she clarified, raising her hands innocently.

Slowly you shook your head: “No, you didn’t tell me she was going to be the surprise guest.”

“If I had known she would be here, I wouldn’t have come.”, Leah said spitefully.

The midfielder rolled her eyes in annoyance: “Stop whining, you both wanted to be included so I invited you both. You’ll survive.”

Knowing that there would only be three bedrooms and a sofa in the cabin plus two couples you turned hopeful to your former Barcelona teammate:” Ana we will share a room, right?”

“Sorry, you'll have to share.”, Ana Maria explained, destroying your hope for some peace in the night and nodding in the direction where your ex-girlfriend was sitting with her arms crossed in front of her chest.

“What, no way!”, you protested.

A mischievous smile played on the Swiss woman’s lip: “Oh come on, you’ll survive. Keira and Lucy are exes and get along too.”

“That’s different.”, you told her. Their breakup has been smooth with no hard edges unlike yours with the England national team captain.

She quickly commented:” Yeah, they’ve a dog together.”

“Luckily, we never got a dog.”, you countered brusquely. Even though you were aware that ever since Lucy and Keira adopted the West Highland Terrier Narla the two of you dreamed of a dog yourself.

With an amused smile on her face Lia had followed your verbal duel until asking everyone cheerfully: “Before someone murders her ex-girlfriend and turns this into a cozy mystery, would anyone like a hot chocolate?”

“I do.”, Laura announced smiling, holding hands with the Barcelona midfielder. While Keira’s head rested on the older woman’s shoulder.

“Amor, I’d like one as well.”, Mariona beamed at her Swiss girlfriend.

Grinning, Lia kissed the Spaniard on the cheek:” Of course, I’ll make you one.”

Seeing the four being this in love with each other, showed through those simple gestures, was equally heartwarming to you as well as a bit painful, reminding you of your own singleness.

You tried to cover up your own feelings with a half-joke: “I think I’ll need something stronger than that to survive this weekend.”

Without missing a beat, Laura send you a smirk from across the room: “You can put something stronger into your hot chocolate. We came prepared.”

She got up from her seat next to Keira and opened a cabinet, revealing a surprisingly large collection of liquor bottles. Grabbing a bottle of Irish Cream, she came back and poured a generous amount into your hot chocolate.

You didn’t protest. You just smiled mischievously at her: “You’re the best.”

“It’s not my first winter vacation in a cabin.”, she winked back while pouring some alcohol into her own mug.

“I can tell. It’s quite cozy actually, except for that pouting blonde sitting next to your girlfriend.” You nodded towards Keira who had changed seats to sit next to Leah and was now whispering quietly to her.

Laura only raised a knowing eyebrow at you and grinned: “Don’t worry we can spike her drink too.”

“Oh, she’s horrible when she’s drunk. You should have seen her after the Euros final.”, you laughed, thinking back to the summer of 2022.

“Really?”

You nodded: “Yes, I think I’ve never deleted that video of her in our hotel room.”

Pulling out your phone to show Laura the video, you tried to fight back a fond smile. Everything had felt easier and lighter back then, not just because you won the tournament. Now, looking at the footage of a younger, more relaxed Leah pirouetting around the room, your heart started to ache again.

“Oh, that’s hilarious.”, Laura smiled as she watched your phone screen where Leah drunkenly fell over and pulled the curtains of the hotel room down with her. You both had had a few too many celebratory drinks that night and you really thought it was the funniest thing you had ever seen.

“She refused to fall sleep after that. No one slept for more than two hours that night.”, you continued to explain, the memories filling you with a nostalgic kind of happiness.

Laura laughed politely: “I heard some of those stories from Kei. It sounded like you all had a good time back then.”

“We did but then she changed so much… You know, the fame. Everything happened so fast afterwards.”

Your break-up had been like a tornado. It came suddenly and without warnings. All you knew back then was that Leah was busy with fashion stuff and advertisements and suddenly, she wasn’t your Leah anymore.

Lauras face turned serious, her eyebrows knotting together: “Wait, that was the reason you two broke up?”

“Yes.”

“I heard it was super messy.”, Mariona contributed to your conversation, sliding closer to you and away from the rest of the group.

“You can say that again.”, you sighed.

On the other side of the room, Keira and Leah had their own conversation.

“Kei, I’ll never forgive you.”, Leah hissed at her best friend.

“It’s not that bad, Leah.”

The defender rolled her eyes: “Sure, maybe for you.”

Keira groaned with frustration: “You’re so dramatic!”

Suddenly Leah decided: “I’ll lay down before dinner.”

“What about your hot chocolate?”, the midfielder frowned.

She had barely spoken the words when Lia handed the blonde a steaming cup that smelled deliciously of chocolate.

“Oh, thank you, Wally.”, she mumbled gratefully before sipping the hot drink.

With a warm smile the brunette promised: “Drink it, you’ll feel better afterwards.”

“Does she magically go away after I finished drinking this too?”, Leah wanted to know from her in a hopeful tone.

Hearing that question Lia chuckled:” No.”

“Sad.”, she pouted, closing her eyes for dramatic effect, wishing you’d somehow disappear like you did in the past.

No complaining about her change since you were gone, no one saying that the fame did change her character not for the better, but for the worse.

Wasn’t the England captain so much happier now? Or did the ACL injury made her slow down again to be in the here and now, forcing her to be more selective of the time she had. If you had stayed with her longer, you’d have witnessed it firsthand. The only thing Leah was certain of was that you were the reason her thoughts were running wild.

Clearing her throat the Arsenal midfielder innocently suggested:” Maybe just try to be open for the situation.”

“I hate you both so much.”, the defender growled.

Still smiling Lia stated: “No you don’t.”

“What are we eating?”, Leah swiftly changed the topic.

Amused the Swiss woman lifted an eyebrow:” Why? Are you hangry?”

“Yes, I’m indeed very hangry.”, she confirmed.

Her Arsenal teammate couldn’t help but to start laughing about her dramatics: “Typical.”

Leah knew she wasn’t known for her cooking skills, so the blonde offered:” I’ll do the cleaning who’s going to cook?”

“I can cook.”, Mariona volunteered.

“I’ll help you with that, Mario.”, you responded, squeezing her shoulder slightly. Back in Barcelona the two of you often cooked for your teammates, it was a passion you both shared and over the years you became a good team in the kitchen.

“And Leah and I’ll clean.”, Keira threw in.

As always, when the cooked food was on the table, it was eaten up far too quickly, at least you could see from the satisfied smiles on the faces of your friends that they had enjoyed it and the sight of it was what made you incredibly happy.

When the chatting and laughing was over, you all went to bed. As you closed the door behind you, you realized that you had to share the bedroom with none other than your ex-girlfriend, and to avoid her for a while longer, you stayed in the small bathroom for an extra-long time.

You took a few deep breaths to brace yourself, watching yourself in the mirror as you did. You then changed into a pair of pyjama pants and an oversized shirt before exiting the bathroom.

Leah was already lying on her side of the bed, one hand on her flat stomach: “God, I’m so full.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes: “You never know when to stop.”

“It was too delicious.”, Leah shrugged, unbothered by the judgemental tone in your voice.

You didn’t feel like discussing with her so you just sighed: “I’m going to bed now.”

Leah watched as you climbed into your side of the kingsize bed and turned off the lights.

“Night.”

Sleep came surprisingly easy as soon as you were cozied up under the warm blanket. That was until someone gently shook you awake a few hours later. You didn’t open your eyes, you only managed to groan and bury yourself deeper into the sheets.

“Hey, I think the heater broke down… It’s s-so cold.”, Leah whispered, her teeth chattering with every other word.

“What?”, you yawned, too sleepy to understand anything she said.

“Can I get under your blanket? It’s freezing?”

Still half asleep, you lifted your blanket to let Leah crawl in. “Fine.”

”Thanks.”

Her shivering body pressed against your side, the two blankets laying in a big pile on top of the two of you. Leah felt so cold next to you that you had to pull her in, willingly sharing your body heat with her. “Come closer.”

The defender wrapped her arms around you, her skin icy against yours: “How is your body so hot?”

“Don’t know. You tell me.”, you grinned with your eyes closed.

Leah snorted about that before turning serious again: “No, really. You’re not getting a cold, are you?”

“Not with you warming me.”, you continued to joke.

“Good because Arsenal needs their captain.”

Finally you turned to your side, directly facing her: “Oh, so you should survive and I can freeze to death?”

“No, that’s not what I meant. Just that we both can’t get sick right now.”

You nodded slightly: ”Okay, that’s fair.”

The winter break would end soon and neither of you wanted to miss out on training.

You both went quiet for a short moment.

“I saw that… you played a great Champions League campaign so far.”, Leah suddenly admitted quietly into the dark.

You took those words in, unsure what to do with them.

“Are you saying you still watch my games?”

“Sometimes I do.”, she confessed quietly. But the blonde didn't add, because of Keira or Ellie, so you wondered if that included you.

However, you were too afraid to ask her about it and instead teased her about her beloved club: “ I couldn’t get myself to watch Arsenal this season, the beginning of their WSL campaign was so depressing.”

“Excuse me?”, she huffed, her figure looming over you.

Amused, you stifle a smile, it was very easy to wind her up: “Yeah, okay, Keira told me it got better after your female coach took over.”

“Yes, it did.”, Leah confirmed matter-of-factly.

Even though you could feel her intense gaze on you, you began to feel sleepy: “That’s great for you, you must be very happy right now.”

“Sure, believe that.”, the defender smiled sadly, which you didn’t see anymore because your eyes were already closed.

You slipped softly into sleep.

The next morning, Ana tugged gently on her friend's upper arm:” Come on, Kei. We shouldn't wake them up yet, they look so cosy.”

“Look at how tight Leah is holding on to her. She was totally lying about having no feelings for her anymore.”, the midfielder observed.

Her girlfriend continued:” And the one who’s laying in her arms hasn’t let go off their shared past either otherwise she wouldn’t keep videos with Leah on her phone.”

“Let them sleep. Let’s go and make breakfast.”, Lia spoke up.

Glancing at the Swiss Woman Mariona’s face lit up while she talked: “I could really need a coffee or two to be fair.”

“Me too.”, Keira replied.

The Spaniard cheerfully concluded: “Time to get the coffee machine going then.”

“On it.”, Lia answered in a good mood.

The smell of ground coffee beans and the golden rays of the sun touching your face and hers woke you both up.

“It smells of coffee.”, you mumbled happily.

Leah shook her head in amusement: “I hope they made some tea as well.”

“Ugh, I’ll never understand how anyone can hate coffee.”, you remarked.

She immediately countered:” And I will never fall victim to the coffee addiction that you all obviously suffer from.”

The two of you made their way to the open kitchen, where your friends were already there. Their faces were illuminated by the morning light, an open window was letting in some fresh mountain air while they were almost done with preparing the breakfast for an adventurous day ahead.

“Good morning, girls.”, the Arsenal captain greeted them smiling, hugging Lia from behind.

The brunette returned her grin:” Morning. I guess that means no coffee for you?”

“Oh, yes is that tea for me?”, she hummed delighted.

“Yes.”, Mariona confirmed as she pushed the steaming mug towards the blonde defender.

Leah took a deep breath, taking in the smell of the tea before she wrapped her hands around it: “Amazing.”

“You’re welcome.”

After taking a sip from her steaming hot drink, Leah looked at the group in front of her: “So what are we doing on our first full day here?”

“Skiing!”, Laura beamed at her.

You saw Keiras eyes widen nervously in the background, and you had to stop yourself from laughing.

“Yes, it’ll be so fun. For the ones who don’t know how to do that we have sledges.”, Lia explained patiently.

You knew exactly what that meant. Laura, Lia and Ana would enjoy their time on the ski slopes while the rest of you were stuck with sledges.

Leah didn’t seem too excited about that plan: “Just great.”

To lighten the mood and to spite Leah, you asked the group: “Sledge race anyone?”

“I’m in!”, Mariona nodded quickly.

Leah rolled her eyes which usually would have offended you if it weren’t for the way the corners of her mouth lifted into a smile: “Such children.”

Mariona and you got up from the table, ready to get dressed for a day in the snow.

In the meantime, Lia leaned over to her teammate and whispered: “You should talk with one of those children later if you ask me.”

“Shut it, Lia.”, the defender replied.

“No, deep down you know I’m right.”

“No.”

“Yes.”, Keira finally said, raising on eyebrow at her best friend.

“Guys.”, Leah sighed with a pleading tone which was deliberately ignored by her friends.

“Just trust us, Lee.”

“No.”

This time it was Keira who sighed with frustration: “I wish you two weren’t as stubborn.”

“We’re not.”, Leah said cooly and got up from the table, ending the conversation abruptly.

No one said anything about it for the rest of the day. You were too busy playing in the snow. The sledge racing quickly turned into a snowball fight which then turned into you all trying to build a snowman together until the sun set.

Your face and hands still felt frozen when you returned to your bedroom in the cabin. With a tired but satisfied sigh, you let yourself fall onto the bed.

“You look pretty done.”, Leah smirked as she pulled her cold, wet sweater off of her body.

You tried your best not to look so you stared at the ceiling: “In my defense, it was a long day and my manager just called to tell me that I have to leave early tomorrow.”

“You’re leaving again?”

You frowned. Was there actually a slight hint of disappointment in your exes’ voice?

You must have imagined that.

“Yeah… I have to go.”, you confirmed.

“Oh.”, she sounded disappointed.

You suspected with a heavy heart: “I bet you’ll be happy to have one day without me.”

Much to your both surprise the blonde revealed: “Actually I was just getting used to you.”

“Used to me?”, you repeated, puzzled.

The England captain shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly:” Yeah. You’re less annoying than I remember.”

“Excuse me? You’re way more annoying than me.”, you quickly corrected her. In a serious tone you reminded your former girlfriend:” You were the one who had to attend every event, take each interview, miss out on date nights and our friends’ parties.”

As she listened to your accusations, Leah wrapped her arms around herself protectively. “Because I had to, not because I wanted to.”, the defender clarified earnestly.

You remembered loudly, the memories of your breakup returning to you in waves:” You didn’t even cry when I left.”

“What would that have changed?”, your ex-girlfriend asked.

Your voice trembled with both anger and sadness: “It would have shown that you cared about us!”

“I did care!”, Leah hissed back.

You snorted in disbelief: “Sure, Leah.”

“Okay, fine. Believe whatever you want, you’re gone tomorrow anyway.”, she waved it off.

“You were serious.”, you realized.

A frustrated sigh escaped her lips: “Of course I was.”

“Do you think we were together at the wrong time and place?”, you questioned cautiously.

The Arsenal player took the time to think thoroughly about your question before replying: “Maybe we were.”

“Who knows, right?”

“Not us. If we could just go back in time.”, Leah begun with a longing expression on her face.

You promptly interrupted her:” But we can’t. It’s impossible until time travel is possible.”

“Obviously.”, she said annoyed.

“Don’t eye roll at me, Leah Catherine.”, you warned her with a half-crooked smile on your lips.

The defender cheekily raised an eyebrow: “Or what?”

“Or I’m afraid I’ll have to shut you up somehow.”, you explained.

Leah nervously ran her hand through her loose hair, which shone silvery in the moonlight. “Somehow? You used to do that by..”, the blonde reminisced.

“Kissing you, yes.”, you ended the sentence for her. The air was full of anticipation.

She moistened her dry lips: “You’re not trying to do that, right?”

“What if I did?”, you boldly posed.

“But what about tomorrow?”, the defender pointed out.

You returned her gaze with the same intensity: “I told you I’ll leave.”

“We shouldn’t waste more time then.”, Leah decided, her face only centimetres from yours.

Before you could reply, her lips were on yours. Your heart skipped a beat and for a moment it almost felt like nothing had changed since the last time she had kissed you like that. Your brain went to autopilot, your body took over. Wrapping your arms around her neck, you pulled her closer. Your kisses grew hungrier, more impatient. Despite the knowledge that she was your ex, your body ached for her. You wanted her right then and there.

Apparently, Leah felt the same way when she pushed you back on your shared better, her lips never leaving yours. It was almost muscle memory how your hands slid under her sweater, caressing the body that you knew so well. You hadn’t realized how much you missed it.

The next morning, you stayed in bed as long as possible, sneaking kisses and holding hands on your way downstairs for breakfast. Before you entered the kitchen, you kissed Leah one last time on bottom step. Unbeknownst to you, you were being watched through the ajar kitchen door.

“Girls, look!”, Ana said from her seat on the kitchen table.

“What?”, Lia asked as she appeared in the open door, leaving the scrambled eggs unattended on the stove.

Keira pushed the other midfielder aside so she could see what was going on: “Didn’t she want to leave already?”

“I heard her call her management this morning to tell them we were still snowed in.”, Mariona explained, smiling knowingly into her coffee.

This caused a few gasps in the kitchen.

Only then you realized that you were being watched. You didn’t mind, you already knew that this was their plan all along.

Nobody said anything when you sat down at the table, they were trying their best to act casual and went on to prepare breakfast. You subtly reached for Leahs hand under the table. She smiled at you but your attention was directed towards the snowflakes drifting past the window.

A big part of you was hoping that your lie turned into reality, that the snowfall would be getting worse and you would have a few more days here.

But for now, you were comforted by the thought that you had your Leah back.

gif source: https://www.tumblr.com/tracksuitlesbian/769781520922755072?source=share

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subtlenighttribute · 1 month ago

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🌊 Selkie AU: Love and Deepspace x Reader

Part 1: A small snippet to practice getting characters right

---

🦭 Selkie!Rafayel – “The Pelt on the Porch”

You first saw him on a fog-heavy morning—curled on your porch in seal form, snoring like a wave in reverse.

At first, he wouldn’t shift. He'd just be there: watching the gulls, basking in sunspots, occasionally stealing your strawberries. But one day, he arrived as a man. Hair damp, eyes pink-blue– wide with adoration, and a pelt folded gently in his arms.

“I like it here,” he murmured, settling beside you, “You don’t ask me to be or do anything else...and you never treat me like a pet.”

And that was the moment you realized: Rafayel had chosen you as his home.

---

🐺 Selkie!Sylus – “Salt and Bone”

Sylus’s seal form was massive—snow-white and scarred from old fights with orcas. He didn’t warm up easily. For weeks, he’d sit by the rocks, eyes narrowed, like he was deciding if you were a threat.

Then the storm came.

You found him in his human form, collapsed outside your cottage, clutching his pelt like it hurt to breathe. You dragged him inside, swaddled him in blankets, and stayed up all night beside him.

By dawn, he was awake—silent, and staring at you with red eyes that no longer held suspicion. Just something more raw.

“You didn’t take it,” he whispered, holding the pelt closer.

You shrugged. “Why would I?”

He stared a little longer, "Anyone else would."

"Well I'm not just anyone," you move around your home, keeping yourself busy, "did you want me to take it?"

He paused before nodding once.

"Why?"

His voice cracked. “Because I’d stay if you asked.”

---

🐚 Selkie!Zayne – “Of Tides and Tea”

Zayne showed up like clockwork every week—same time, same wave, same smug flip of his sleek seal tail.

He’d leave strange things on your doorstep: sea-polished glass, cute little shells, a little compass that looked like it came straight from an old pirate ship. When you finally confronted the seal (which felt ridiculous), he shifted into a man right there on the tide line—tall, soaked, with seaweed in his hair, x covered only by his pelt and a small smile like he'd been waiting for you.

“You figured it out,” he said, as if you were the slow one.

"So you were a Selkie..."

He nodded.

"And those gifts were...?"

"A courting ritual...I always saw humans doing this- was I wrong?"

"Well no–wait courting?"

He nodded again.

“You’ve been flirting with me this whole time as a seal?”

“Obviously.”

---

🌧️ Selkie!Xavier – “Still Water, Still Heart”

Xavier appeared like your knight in wet furry armor, saving you from catcallers one night.

Now, whenever you leave your small home to do anything– he's right there, waiting to escort you wherever you go. Bouncing along next to you, barking, gurgling and blebbing at anyone that came too close.

You found an unlikely friend in this pale seal, telling him all your troubles, being comforted by his presence and his gentle nudges from his cold nose with his soft whiskers.

After a particularly ruff day, you found a pelt folded carefully on your doorstep—left there on purpose.

“I’m not very good with words,” Xavier said that night, still damp from the sea, his hand shy in yours.

“That’s okay,” you said. “The ocean never explains itself either.”

---

🌀 Selkie!Caleb – “Catch and Release”

He absolutely flirted with you while still in seal form.

Caleb was ridiculous—flipping in the water, showing off, occasionally dragging up pirate-era treasure like he was auditioning for Selkie Bachelor. You thought it was just a weird quirk until the day he turned up human, soaked and shirtless, throwing a damp arm around you like you’d been dating for months.

“What’s up, pipsqueak?” he said, utterly casual.

“I—you’re a selkie?!”

“Uh, yeah. I thought I was being obvious with the gifts.”

You blinked. “That was you??”

“Who else would woo you with deep-sea swag and killer moves?”

Honestly? Fair point.

#lads #lads rafayel #lads sylus #lads x reader #lads xavier #lads zayne #love and deepspace #selkie #selkie au

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morganismss · 6 months ago

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loving in silence

Title Inspiration: Song, “we’ve been loving in silence” by MARO Pairings: Arthur Morgan x Reader Summary: “You and Arthur seek shelter in an abandoned cottage from a raging storm.” Content Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, smut, soft smut, fluff, fluff to smut back to fluff Other Tags: one shot, pwp, song fic, vague description of reader's physical appearance, female reader, slightly dominant reader, slightly submissive arthur, no use of "y/n", established relationship, high honor arthur Locations: Deer Cottage - Roanoke Ridge WC: 6.2k AO3 Link a/n: hii it's been a while! i worked wayy too hard and wayy too long on this but we got snowed in and i finally sat down and decided enough was enough. this is my first bit of writing in a several years so i am very rusty and i am the only person to proof read so please expect grammatical errors. i apologize if it's too wordy or too long! feedback is greatly appreciated though! i really hope you enjoy ♡

・❥・❥・❥・❥・❥・❥・❥・❥・❥・❥・❥・❥・❥・

The air was thick and heavy, sweet with the smell of dampened grass. Dark ominous clouds loomed out in the distance across the tree line in mountains of varying shades of grey. Distant cracks of light ripped through the sky followed closely by low rumbling, and threatening winds whistled through the tree branches blowing leaves all around you as you rode.

It had been days since you left camp with Arthur for an adventure. Now, you two found yourselves in the hills of Roanoke Ridge about to get caught up in a storm.

You looked up to the sky above you and noticed the blue fading into green, darkening as the storm grew closer. The horses snorted in protest as you both pushed against the winds urging them forward. Fat droplets of rain started to fall one by one, tapping against the leather of your hat and fading into the hair of your horse. You looked forward to Arthur who was riding a few feet ahead of you on his own horse.

Neither of you were expecting to be gone this long, and this storm was going to delay your journey back to camp by at least another day. He turned to look back at you, opening his mouth as if about to say something when suddenly the downpour came.

The rain came fast and heavy, creating a thick veil you could barely see past. You shielded your face with your arm trying to stop the assault on your skin, your other hand held the reins and your coat tight to your body. “Up ahead!” You barely heard Arthur's voice shout back to you over another crack of thunder. You glanced upward past your arm trying to see through the curtain of rain and noticed a faint outline of a building off to the left side of the trail. Arthur spurred his horse forward with a faint “Hyah!” causing you to do the same and follow suit. Though difficult to see, you could just barely make out the details. It was a small log cottage with painted blue shutters, there was a covered well next to an outhouse, and a garden by the front door. It seemed vacant; no horses were hitched to the outside post and there was no stirring happening on the inside. It looked homely enough, but most importantly, it looked dry. The horses approached the cabin at a steady trot, their hooves squished into the mud as they reached the hitching posts. You swung your leg over the saddle and dismounted with a splash as your boots connected with the wet ground. The wind continued to rip through you as you struggled to keep your hat on your head and your coat from blowing open.

Arthur clung to his own hat and ushered you along with him, his arm wrapped around your shoulders keeping you close to him as if afraid you would blow away with the winds. You couldn’t help but lean into him and his warmth, not complaining about how tight he was holding you. You two reached the door and Arthur knocked firmly. “Hello!” He shouted. “Anyone home?” The seconds passed by with no reply. Arthur muttered a curse under his breath.

“I’m not standin’ out here all night.” His grip around you loosened as he took a step closer to the door. He took the handle in his hand and turned it open. A gust of wind pushed past you both and ripped through the threshold, snatching the door handle out of his grip and causing it to fling wide open with a loud creak. Arthur quickly drew his gun and turned to you. “Wait here.” He ordered. You nodded, your hand now hovered over the gun in your holster as he took a step inside, his revolver leading the way.

Arthur turned quickly around the corners of the door frame, checking to see if anyone was there. You watched as he disappeared around the corner of the door and out of sight further into the cottage.

You stood there outside clutching your coat closed, quickly becoming drenched while waiting for his all clear. You glanced around you and looked back into the tree line and up the path from where you two had rode down from, not a single sign of life around. The winds continued to rip through the trees, snapping off clumps of twigs and leaves from their branches.

“Anything?” You turned back and shouted impatiently into the cottage, not wanting to be stuck in this storm any longer.

A few seconds passed without an answer and for a brief moment you held your breath, worried. Your hand wrapped around the handle of your gun and slowly lifted it from its holster. Suddenly, Arthur came back into your sight as he rounded the corner of the door, startling you. “Doesn’t look like anyone's home, c’mon.” He gestured for you to follow him inside and held his hand out for you to take.

You let out your anxious breath and released your grip on your gun, reaching to take his hand instead. His fingers wrapped around yours as he gently pulled you inside, guiding you through the threshold and out of the rain.

Upon first glance, the cottage was cozy and pleasant, an instant improvement from the usual filth and abandonment you had encountered in your previous travels. The door shut behind you and you breathed a sigh of relief to be out of the rain, reaching to take off your hat. Arthur chuckled at your sigh as he walked towards the kitchen, taking his coat and hat off and setting them down on the wooden table. You shrugged your wet coat off your shoulders and set it on the back of the chair that was positioned next to the fireplace to dry.

The place was well furnished; wooden trim painted the same blue as the outside shutters, cabinets and shelves filled with books and trinkets, a stone fireplace built right into the wall adorned with trophy antlers and a golden mantle clock softly ticking away. The bed, positioned right beside the fireplace, was old and worn with faded bedding. The kitchen was well kept with clean dishes hanging up on the walls above the counter tops and decorative plates lined up along the shelves. Everything still looked lived in, like it hadn’t been neglected for long. Hopefully the homeowner wouldn’t mind if you and Arthur took shelter here for just the night. Arthur walked across the room, spurs clinking and wood creaking with each step he took. He knelt down in front of the hearth and prodded at the partially charred logs. He reached into his satchel and pulled out a box of matches, striking one before tossing it in. The fire slowly sparked to life as the flames clung to the logs, illuminating the room in an orange glow. Your body instantly relaxed as you felt the room begin to warm. “You think anyone's comin’ back?” You asked, concerned about the two of you trespassing. He stood up with a grunt and turned to you. “I don’t know, maybe,” his tone was low and his voice gravelly, “bread’s stale and food’s starting to rot. Been sittin’ out a few days at least.” He rubbed at his jaw, scratching at his grown in stubble.

You turned and looked at the kitchen table Arthur had just placed his belongings on, noticing the half eaten and neglected food. You walked over to inspect the mess and wondered about the stranger who lived here, questioning what might have happened to them and if they were coming back.

“We shouldn't stay long,” you say, “let's eat, get our strength back, and head back to camp.”

At that moment, another clap of thunder cracked loudly through the valley as the rain and wind continued to slam against the wooden structure.

“I don't think headin’ back out in this rain is wise darlin’.” He hesitated, his heavy steps creaking the floorboards as he walked up beside you.

The way the pet name sounded against his lips made your heart skip a beat, but it wasn’t enough to mask your concern. “We’ve already been gone longer than we said we would. The gang’s gonna worry.”

“We’ll leave as soon as the storm breaks,” Arthur walked to the kitchen window and peaked past the tattered curtains, “suns goin’ down too, we don't wanna get stuck out in the rain and the dark. It's too dangerous.”

You frowned but didn’t protest, realizing your oversight. You knew it would be too dangerous, especially in these hills. The storm alone would make your path home much more treacherous, and between wandering the woods in the pitch black darkness and being surrounded by Murfree Broods, it would have been a death sentence to leave now.

Arthur noticed the look on your face. “Hey,” the calm tone of his voice drew your eyes to his, “they’ll understand, ‘specially Hosea. We’ll get back tomorrow, it’ll be okay.”

“And if whoever lives here comes back and shoots us for trespassing?” You quipped.

“For their sake,” he paused, a smirk tugging at his lips, “they better be a faster draw.”

You rolled your eyes and turned away from him and back to the kitchen table. You grabbed your satchel and rummaged through it, pulling out two cans of food and a wrapped loaf of bread.

“We still need to eat.” You sassed, holding a can out to him.

“Looks like someone’s already started without us.” He joked, pointing his thumb over to the neglected food before taking the can from you. You couldn’t help but chuckle at his joke.

Arthur pulled his knife from his side and stabbed it into the top of the can. He peeled back the aluminum top and brought the can to his lips, slurping down its contents. You both hadn't eaten all day and you felt your stomach grumble at the sight of food.

“I bet this wasn't the kinda adventure you were expecting.” He spoke, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. You pulled out your own knife and cut off a corner of your bread loaf, bringing it up to your lips and taking a bite.

“I think I’d still prefer this to being shot at.” You chewed, cutting off another corner of bread and handing it to him. Arthur chuckled as he took the piece.

“Yes, the rain is more preferable than being shot at,” you both were quiet for a few moments as you chewed on your food, “but this was a nice change of scenery for you, right?” Arthur's voice faltered as he started to grow self conscious about this trip he had taken you on.

Arthur had decided to take you up into the mountains for a few days to teach you how to hunt and to look at the beauty of the mountain side. Thinking back, it was a bit strange how you were able to be out and away from camp like this. You rarely ever got to go on adventures, outside of running from lawmen and bounty hunters. For you, it was all chores, reading, and more chores and if you were being honest, you were starting to get sick of it.

You longed to be a part of the action, even Karen got to help with heists every now and then, but not you. If you couldn’t help out on a job, you at least wanted to see more of the world. Arthur had all but gotten down on both knees and begged Dutch to let you come with him, talking about your “expertise in flower picking” or something of that nature, anything just to get you out of that camp for a little while. If it wasn't for Arthur, you would be back at camp right now probably doing laundry with the girls or helping Pearson with the stew.

“It’s better than dealin’ with Uncle’s drunken ramblings or gettin’ yelled at by Miss Grimshaw.” You joked as you ate the contents of your can.

Arthur didn't respond and you noticed the slightly unamused look on his face, realizing he wasn't joking. You swallowed and reached out to grab his hand, the touch bringing him some comfort.

“Arthur, I've had more fun these last few days than I’ve had in a long time. Thank you for this. I mean it.” You told him earnestly. His eyes met yours as you gave him a smile and he smiled back.

“I think I’d rather be soaking wet in some stranger's home than dealin’ with Uncle too.” He joked and you laughed.

The storm had darkened more now as the sun fully set behind the clouds. You grabbed the neglected plate from the table along with both of the empty cans and placed everything in the kitchen sink. If anyone was going to come back, the least you two could do was not leave the place messy; you were outlaws, not pigs.

You heard Arthurs heavy steps slowly come up from behind you followed by two warm hands sneaking their way onto your hips. His touch was comforting and you felt the butterflies erupt in your chest. He ducked his head down into your neck, placing his lips against your skin leaving gentle kisses along your shoulder. You tilted your head to allow him more access and closed your eyes with a contented smile.

“Been waitin’ for this,” he hummed, lips and stubble brushing lightly against your warm skin, “wantin’ to be alone with you.” The vibration of his voice against your skin sent shivers across your body.

“Arthur, you’ve been alone with me for days now.” You sighed, leaning back into him and feeling his chest rise and fall against your back.

“Hmm, not like this.” His thumbs rubbed circles on your hips against the fabric of your clothes.

You two didn’t get to show your affection for each other much while in camp or around the others. Occasionally you both might steal a glance from each other while doing chores or you might catch one of Arthur’s longing stares when he got back from working a job; maybe even trade some secret smiles when he was alone in his cot or get to gently touch his hand for a brief moment in passing.

All efforts made by you two for intimacy were quiet and discreet, like trading secrets only you two knew about. You both rarely got a moment alone together, but standing here in this space with him like this made the rest of the world around you disappear. The running, the bullets, the bloodshed, none of it mattered in this moment with each other. If you were going to be stuck here with each other, then you both were going to savor every second you could.

You turned around in his arms and leaned into him, his arms now wrapped fully around your waist keeping you as close to him as possible. Arthur ducked his head down to rest his forehead against yours.

Thunder rumbled softly somewhere out in the distance and the rain continued to patter against the cottage as you both held onto each other, gently swaying to the ambiance. You wondered when was the last time you got a moment like this with him.

“Did you miss me?” You teased him already knowing his answer.

“Oh I missed ya alright.” He grinned and lifted his head back to look at you.

You peered up at him through your lashes, the look in his eyes all too familiar to you. It was a look you only got to catch from him every so often, a look full of all the love and desire he had in him. He looked at you like you were a sky full of stars, and to him that’s what you were; dazzling and enough to shine through his darkest nights. The way he was with you in moments like these were a stark contrast to how the rest of the world viewed him, the way the gang viewed him. He was tender and gentle when he needed to be; when he wanted to be, with you.

…

Arthurs head started to lean down to yours and your heart started to race. You met him halfway as his lips connected with yours like they were a missing piece to your puzzle, slotting against each other in smooth and slow motions. He was savoring the moment, the taste of you, he didn’t want to let it go.

He couldn’t resist you no matter how hard he tried. Being near you back at camp but not being able to touch you was torture to him, and it was torture for you too. All those glances and brushes of your fingertips left you wanting more of him.

It was a desire so strong that even now you couldn’t help your fingers from making their way from around the back of his neck to the collar of his shirt. You took the buttons between your fingertips and undid them one by one until his dress shirt was completely opened. Your hands lifted the hem over his shoulders as he helped to shrug the fabric off, discarding it to the floor and leaving his chest bare.

Arthurs hands made their way to the buttons of your blouse, unbuttoning each one and slowly revealing your chemise underneath. Your lips separated for a brief moment leaving you breathless as one of his hands reached up to softly palm your breast, his thumb brushing across your nipple.

The touch caused a soft moan to pass your lips that you couldn’t hold back. His lips feverishly connected back to yours as the sound you had let slip sent him over the edge, your tongues slipping between each other's lips leaving hungry kisses in their wakes.

You felt as his hands continued to feel over your body, slipping underneath the fabric of your blouse and onto your back pulling you impossibly closer to his body. It all felt too good to stop, but you wanted to try something.

Your palms pressed against his bare chest, pushing him gently away from you. Your lips separated again and Arthur looked down at you with a concerned yet questioning look.

“Go wait on the bed.” You blushed at your sudden confidence. Arthur blinked at you for a moment trying to register what you had said and then looked at you pleasantly surprised, a wide grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Yes ma’am.” He flirted, nodding his head to you. You smirked back at him as he walked over to the old bed. He sat down on the edge and started to take off his boots, his eyes still glued to you not wanting to miss a single moment.

You continued to smile at him trying to hide your nerves as you kicked off your own boots. Your hands slipped the opened blouse off of your shoulders letting it drop to the floor near his shirt. Your fingers made their way to your waistline as you unfastened your ribbon belt, and your thumbs slipped under the waistline of your skirt as you tugged it past your hips. All of your garments fell to the ground in cascades of fabric leaving you to stand there in front of Arthur in only your chemise and nothing else.

He sat there on the edge of that bed, taking in the very sight of you, completely at a loss for words. His heart quickened along with his breathing and you could tell he was flustered. He wouldn’t admit it but he was a little nervous too. His face was flushed a deep red and his gaze softened, hungry eyes wandering up and down your body until finally meeting your own.

The only thing he could muster in that moment was a soft, "C'mere." It was sensual yet wanting; it sounded like he was begging for you to come to him.

You smirked slyly at him as your hands rose to your body. You slowly started to sway your hips from side to side, taking the sheer fabric of your chemise in your fingers and teasingly pulling the hem up ever-so-slightly over your thighs, teasing him with only a glimpse of skin. The wood floors creaked softly beneath your feet with each shift of your weight.

You took a step towards him and your hands started to wander your body, gently feeling over your waist and up your chest. You took another achingly slow step towards him, and then another, keeping up with the same swaying movements. Arthur let out a frustrated and breathy chuckle knowing full well what you were doing, and he'd be damned if it wasn't working.

You continued to move your hips side to side, slowly taking more steps closer to him until you finally stood there in between his legs. His hands connected with your body, finding their way to the space just above your hips. His fingers felt warm through the fabric as he gently gripped you, holding you close to him. He leaned forward and placed his lips against you leaving soft kisses across your abdomen, his warm lips separated only by the thin fabric.

You picked up your leg and placed your foot on the edge of the bed beside him, the inside of your thigh now brushed up against his ribs. His hand traveled its way along the curve of your hip, feeling along the outside of your thigh until reaching under your shift. His hand then felt its way back up the bare skin of your thighs. The warmth alone made you weaker to his touch.

“Shifts still damp,” he mused, his other hand feeling the fabric between his fingertips, “should probably take this off too.” Arthur shifted his eyes up to yours, giving you a soft look as if they were asking for permission. Your lips parted and you let out a soft breath, nodding your head slightly. His hands dropped the fabric and the grip on your thigh and made their way up your body, warm skin separated by cool fabric. His hands felt over every inch of your outline before finding the exposed skin at your collar. Two fingers slipped under the fabric and slowly glided the sleeves of your shift over your shoulders. The neckline of your chemise softly tugged down over your chest exposing you completely. Arthur continued, tugging the shift down your waist and past your hips, letting it fall to the ground in waves of white.

Thunder rumbled out through the trees again as the rain softly pattered against the windows. A subtle symphony to accompany this tender moment between your bare body and him. Arthur looked up at you once again, admiring the sight of you before him. Your hands found their way into his hair, fingers raking through his golden brown locks.

“You’re so beautiful.” He cooed, lips finding their way back to your body in praise. Your body was an altar he could worship at for the rest of his life, finding his salvation in your touch alone.

Without a word, you dropped one knee down onto the bed, and then the other, now straddling his thighs. His eyes never looked away from you once. He was being patient now, admiring every move you made and savoring every touch of your skin, but every second left him needing more of you.

In a smooth motion, he softly took your face into both of his hands and brought you closer. Your eyes fluttered closed as his lips met yours again in more feverish kisses. His hands fell to either side of your bare waist as yours tugged at his hair. A groan passed his lips and against yours causing you to smirk into the kiss.

You felt yourself growing hot and desperate for more, absolutely drunk on him. Your hands made their way down to his belt buckle undoing the clamp from the leather and then fumbling with the buttons underneath. You tugged suggestively at the open flaps of his pants. Arthur got the hint and hurriedly helped you get them off him, letting them fall onto the ground beneath you with a soft thud. There was nothing to separate you two now.

Arthurs hands grasped onto your hips again as you climbed back on top of him and you felt his hard erection pressed against you. Your arms wrapped around his neck as your lips connected with his again. Your tongues shamelessly found their ways back to each other, slipping in between each kiss and gasp for air. Your body rocked against his as his hands felt all over you.

One of your hands dropped down and firmly grabbed hold of his member, the touch and warmth causing him to buck his hips slightly and groan again. You lightly tugged, stroking your hand up and down with pressure. You felt him pulse under your touch as he hardened more than before. He was achingly hard, and it was taking everything in him to not grab you and toss you onto the bed and selfishly have his way with you.

Arthur's hand left your hip and dipped down between the two of you. You felt as his finger lightly traced the skin along your hip bone and down into your inner thigh, his fingers slipping right into your folds. You gasped at his warm presence as your hips rolled in response.

“Looks like someone’s ready for me.” He teased with a smirk, referring to how wet you had gotten. His finger slipped from your entrance up to your clit, swirling around the bulb, and you found yourself not being able to respond in words but in cursed moans instead. The sensation made your legs shudder as you closed your eyes and leaned your forehead against his. Your hips rocked forward with each swirl and you found yourself struggling to focus on your hand that was stroking him.

“Shit.” You breathed as Arthur continued his finger movements. You felt yourself getting closer, but as much as you would have loved to finish right there on his fingers, you wanted him.

You moved his hand away before you could get any further and straightened up as you positioned his tip against your entrance. You looked up at him again searching for any sign of hesitation to stop. His eyes met yours and he nodded giving you the go ahead. You swirled his tip around your entrance before slowly settling down onto him, making sure to give yourself time to adjust to his size.

You closed your eyes and let out a soft breath, your arms returning to wrap around his neck as you leaned your forehead against his once more. You slowly settled all the way down to his base, taking all of him in. You started to move yourself up and down, feeling him fill every inch of you. Arthur secured his arms around you as you moved, biting his bottom lip in concentration as he slowly thrust his hips up to meet you with each bounce.

“Arthur.” You gasped as the softest of moan passed your lips. He loved hearing his name in the tone of your voice, and being the greedy giant he was, he needed to hear more of you.

His hands gripped your hips as he guided you back and forth at a quicker pace. You threw your head back as another moan escaped your lips. His lips connected with your jaw leaving feverish kisses down your neck and subtle marks across your collarbone as he nipped at your skin. He groaned again against your skin as you rolled your hips, his hands moving to grab your ass and roll you forward on him again and again.

It was just the two of you, skin against skin, bodies entwined and moving against each other like parts of a machine built to work with each other. No one else could touch you like this, not like how he could.

You tilted your head back as one hand gripped his shoulder for support, and the other gripped his bicep. Oh god, his arms, you thought to yourself and you bit your lip holding back another moan.

Arthur reached for your chin and angled your head back down gently with his thumb. He wanted you to look at him, but more importantly, he wanted to look at your face as he pleasured you. He wanted to see your puffy lips opening as you moaned out his name, he wanted to see your flushed face and furrowed brow twist into pleasure as he sunk deeper into you, he wanted to see the effect he had on you.

Your eyes met his with your mouth agape as the moans spilled freely out of you. His thumb brushed against your bottom lip as you continued to grind up and down on him.

“So damn beautiful.” He praised and you felt yourself melt in his touch, your heart pounding in your chest.

Your pace faltered for a moment as you leaned yourself back, your hands reaching behind you to steady yourself using Arthurs legs. Arthur leaned back mirroring you, both palms now on the bed behind him, the perfect view of all of you before him. You continued your pace as you moved up and down, his member slipping in and out of you.

You looked down at him underneath you, his face and body veiled in a thin sheen of sweat, his brow furrowed in pleasure and his face flushed as he moaned for you. It was unbelievably attractive to you seeing such a strong and stoic man like him reduced down to a blushing, panting mess, absolutely weak to your touch.

You continued to bounce your hips up and down on him. Arthur shifted his weight to one arm as he brought his hand to his face. You looked at him confused for a moment as he licked his thumb. His hand now moved down between the two of you as his thumb connected with your clit, slowly swirling around. The movement amplified the pleasure you felt across your body and you knew you were getting dangerously close now.

“Arthur, I’m-,” you struggled to get the words out as the sensations became too much. You felt your legs start to weaken and your pace start to falter.

“That’s it darlin’,” his hips thrusted up to make up for the rhythm change, “keep going for me.” You tried your best to keep going between feeling him pound in and out of you and his finger swirling around your clit, until-

Your body suddenly tensed and you held your breath as you reached your climax, waves of bliss and release crashing over you, over and over again. You cried out as your body shuddered.

Arthur continued his pace as you pulsed around his member, clenching tightly around him. His body rose up to yours again, hands grasping your hips as he continued to move you up and down on him, moaning into your neck over and over. Your hands cupped his cheeks and you lifted his head to look at you, your face burned as it flushed deep shades of red.

“Come for me.” You whispered, your lips hovering over his, brushing slightly. His breaths were heavy against your lips and his moans grew louder until suddenly he stilled for a moment. He took your lips in his with one last grunt as his thrusts faltered, his kisses sloppy and irregular as he pumped into you.

Arthur pulled you down onto the bed with him, arms still around you. Both of you panted hard trying to catch your breaths as you slipped down beside him. You looked up to him and gave him a tired smile. His hand reached up to caress your cheek, they were calloused but you didn’t care as his thumb softly traced hearts along your cheek.

“How am I supposed to keep my hands off of ‘ya now?” He let out a breathy chuckle giving you that same look of love he always gave you. You grinned and wondered the same for yourself.

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” You suggested knowing damn well it wouldn’t last. You bet that within the day of arriving back at camp he would be all over you again.

He chuckled again. “Don’t think I could if I tried.” He pulled you closer and placed a kiss on your sweaty forehead and you rested your head back down between his collar and jaw. His fingers gently traced along the curves of your back leaving a tingling feeling in their wake as you sank into the warm feeling of his arms around your body, your eyelids growing heavy.

The unrelenting rain drummed against the wood like a lullaby and for a moment you imagined that this cottage belonged to both of you. The pictures on the walls were of you and him, the trinkets on the shelves all collected from your travels together. You imagined living room dancing in the warm orange glows and more nights close to him just like this. It was a silly dream for a couple of outlaws but maybe in another life it was possible.

Arthurs breathing evened out as he started to drift off and you hadn’t even realized your own eyes had closed as you replayed the prior events behind your tired eyelids. You let out one last contented sigh as you drifted into cozy darkness.

…

Morning light peaked through the windows and your eyes blinked slowly. The rain had long stopped and instead of hearing the thundering, you could now hear the birds singing in the trees. From this angle, you could look out the window and just barely make out the mountain ridge peaking into view of the window frame. Trees blanketed the surface in rich shades of green as the sun rays beamed out from behind the ridge line.

You patted the bed around you reaching to touch Arthur, but you noticed he wasn’t there. You sat up in the bed holding the blanket close to your bare body and looked around the cottage. The chair you had placed your coat on the evening prior was pulled up beside the bed, all of your clothes dried and neatly folded resting on the seat, but there was no Arthur in sight.

You got dressed, grabbed your belongings, and headed for the door. You took one last look around and smiled slightly as flashes of the evening played in your head.

You stepped out of the cottage and back into the wilderness. The sky was a bright blue without a single cloud to blemish the sky. You wouldn’t have ever known a storm had passed through if you hadn't been caught in it only hours before. The leaves in the trees rippled lightly as a gentle breeze passed through. You took a deep breath and looked around, spotting Arthur tending to your horses.

He was in the middle of feeding them, his hand rubbing along the bridge of his horse's nose as his eyes wandered over and caught yours. He instantly smiled upon the sight of you and waved you over and you couldn’t help but smile back at the sight of him too. You walked over to him and to your own horse and brushed your hand along its mane and neck.

“Mornin’ beautiful,” he greeted you, “how’d you sleep?”

“Haven’t gotten a good rest like that in a while.” You let out a relieved sigh and reached into your satchel, pulling out an apple and lifting it to your horse's mouth for it to eat.

“A good workout will do that.” He winked and you blushed looking back to your horse. He smirked at your sudden shyness, not willing to forget any time soon the new side of you he saw last night. He reached out and took your wrist in his hand and gently pulled you to him. You melted in his arms as they wrapped around you and he pressed his lips to yours in a single passionate and loving kiss. You sighed into him not wanting to pull away, but you remembered the journey you two had to make back to camp. You pulled away and looked up to him.

“Ready to get an ass chewin’ from Dutch?” You teased, turning to hoist yourself up onto your horse. Arthur groaned as he turned to get on his own horse.

“Maybe we should just stay gone another day.” He muttered knowing he wouldn’t hear the end of it from Dutch. Arthur wanted nothing more than to just bury his head into your neck and your warmth and stay here for a moment longer.

“Come on Morgan,” you pulled the reins of your horse and directed it towards the road, spurring forward, “maybe you could stop by my tent later tonight.” You turned back to him with a wink. He looked up towards you with a smirk playing at his lips.

“Yes ma’am.” He grinned as he followed you down the path and back towards camp.

#is this dirty enough?#i have reread this about a thousand times and im still insecure about it #i long for gentle arthur #the amount of song references i have hidden in this fic is ridiculous #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan fanfic #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x reader smut #arthur morgan fluff #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 fanfiction #arthur morgan #rdr2 #rdr2 arthur #red dead redemption 2

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whereispearlescentmoon · 7 months ago

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Grian looks for an open space on his shelf.

The first space is taken up by a plasma ball. Sparks of bright blue streak across the glass. Inside, a man with blue hair runs and runs and runs around a cottage. It’s impossible to tell if he is running towards or away from something. Sometimes the sparks catch him and he stops for just a moment, before getting up and running again. He looks tired.

The next space is taken up by a snow globe. Grian takes a moment to turn it over, as the snow has settled. Inside is a woman in a red hood. She is shivering, pacing around in a small space. She drags an axe on the ground behind her. Sometimes she reaches out for someone who is not there. When the snow settles again it reaches her neck, and she has to struggle to claw her way out. She always sinks back in eventually. She is in pain, and she is alone.

The third space is an hour glass, set up on a rack to turn itself over every couple of hours. Inside, a blonde man rages at the falling sand. He slashes at it with his sword as though that could do anything. When he is at the bottom, he starts to drown in it. When he is at the top, he slides down with the sand against his will. He wants to stop moving. He can’t. There’s no time.

The fourth space has a miniature green house. Sunflowers grow there. A man coated in poppies struggles to keep them alive. He tends to them tenderly, but somehow he always slips, always cuts them off at the stem. His hands are built for violence no matter how hard he tries. He replants with tears in his eyes. His task is never finished.

The fifth space has a small dome. The inside looks like a hologram, see through and glitching slightly. Inside, a person with orange hair kills wave after wave of mobs. Her eyes are covered, her limbs don’t quite connect to her body. She struggles to aim. Sometimes the mobs get a hit in and she falls, having to scramble to catch up as enemies have surrounded her. Everything is much larger than her. A small counter at the top ticks up with each wave, as though there could be an end to this. There won’t be. It’s not real.

Finally, Grian sets down his latest creation. It’s a little box of glass containing a wind up car track. A man inside with green streaked hair turns the key on car over and over. It slips as his hands become coated in sweat, taking a lap around the track. If he can just get it to keep going, just turn it enough times before he lets go, then he can rest. He can’t leave it broken. He needs to fix this. Hes sure of it.

Grian takes a step back from his shelf, settles into his chair, and watches.

#grian #smajor1995 #pearlescentmoon #inthelittlewood #zombiecleo #smallishbeans #last life smp #double life smp #limited life smp #real life SMP #wild life smp #fic

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feyrearchearon · 2 months ago

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finally started my acotar re-read, and here are my thoughts on the first two chapters:

tl;dr: feyre is an angel. elain should have been written more consistently with the personality sjm claims she has, but she can be redeemed. nesta sucks.

feyre is so selfless, it's insane. she was the one risking her life and providing their basic necessities, and still her thoughts were never focused on her own hunger or needs, but on that of her family. "i knew the expression that would be on my elder sisters' faces when i returned to our cottage empty handed yet again.", "we wouldn't last another week without food."

she had to ask for handouts from the wealthier townsfolk, and just imagine how humiliating that must have been for her. really let that sink in. the youngest in the family, the baby, had to ask for charity because the people who should have been responsible for her were useless.

there is this really heartbreaking moment in the very third page of the book where feyre, who was living on survival mode for years, stopped to admire the swirl of the snow and the way it coated the trees. she says she couldn't remember the last time she had stopped to look at anything lovely or interesting. what a miserable life. and then she says she just wished nesta and elain would get married already, so there would be enough food to go around between herself and her father, and some money to spare to buy paint. . . this is literally heartbreaking. look at the way she had to live, the things she had to give up, because her family was leeching off of her. imagine if she had actually been selfish like people claim her to be, then she would have only hunted for herself, provided for herself, and used the money all on her. but also imagine how this could have been so much different if the whole family came together to help in providing, they were their own enemies, for real, they were in the way of themselves living a better life. not perfect by any means, but any help would have been an improvement to them.

"i needed new boots, but elain needed a new cloak, and nesta was prone to crave anything someone else possessed." this literally summons their personalities. feyre needs something, but so does elain, so feyre will let her have it, and nesta is a selfish bitch lol

"my sisters' voices fluttered out to meet me. i didn't need to discern their words to know they most likely were chattering about some young man or the ribbons they'd spotted in the village when they should have been chopping wood, but i smiled a bit nonetheless." i swear, she's gonna make me cry.

"no mention of the blood on me. i'd long since given up hope of them actually noticing whether i came back from the woods every evening. at least until they got hungry again." it's insane to me that SJM wrote things like this about feyre's family, but she expects people to forgive them. how can you possibly read this and let it slide? lol

granted, she made an effort to leave hints that elain was not so bad, though she isn't off the hook, i really like this part: "it wasn't that elain was cruel. she wasn't like nesta, who had been born with a sneer on her face. elain sometimes just. . . didn't grasp things. it wasn't meanness that kept her from offering to help; it simply never occurred to her that she might be capable of getting her hands dirty. i'd never been able to decide whether she actually didn't understand that we were truly poor or if she just refused to accept it. it still hadn't stopped me from buying her seeds for the flower garden she tended in the milder months, whenever i could afford it. and it hadn't stopped her from buying me three small tins of paint — red, yellow, and blue. it was the only gift she'd ever given me, and our house still bore the marks of it." this? this is understandable. this is redeemable. this is fixable.

feyre painting every little corner of the cottage a la rapunzel because she wanted to be remembered after she was gone :(

i hate their father. he's the worst.

"nesta snorted. not surprising. any bit of praise for anyone — me, elain, the villagers — usually resulted in her dismissal." this bitch is so miserable lmao and this is who we're supposed to forgive and understand and root for down the line? nah, let rhysand deal with her.

sometimes feyre would speak and SJM made a point of writing that the family ignored her, like they didn't even hear her at all. this is what i don't get about elain. if she's supposed to be different from nesta, if she's supposed to be this lovely, docile girl without a mean bone in her body, shouldn't she show a modicum of sympathy for feyre? definitely listen to her when she speaks, and answer her. maybe offer to dry the meat, or not spend feyre's money on herself, or at the very least defend her from nesta and stick by feyre rather than nesta. like, this is the bare minimum of what elain could and should have done in order for those traits to be believable about her character, instead SJM had elain arguing with nesta about who would get to spend feyre's money, but spoiler alert: it was never feyre lol

nobody talks about feyre's trauma having to watch her father get beaten up and assaulted by those men as a child, that's actually so sad.

and i'm expected to feel bad for her?! please, whatever she gets isn't bad enough. this is also the same person that was hissing and barking at elain in the same scene, but we're supposed to believe nesta would have whored herself for elain, who she literally thinks of as a dog and has said as much in her spin-off, but live, laugh, love "healing arc", right?

reading about the dresser feyre painted, the night sky that was just for her, makes me all sorts of happy and giddy skshsks feysand really are the blueprint, guys, i'm afraid no other couple will ever touch them.

fuck mother archeron for asking feyre to promise to take care of the family, and fuck sjm for not developing this further because there is literally no reason for feyre to ride so hard to keep a vow to a dead mother that never gave a rip about her? this part specifically is so undeveloped, it's annoying.

"you can't chop wood for us, but you want to marry a woodcutter's son?" LMFAO, a rare snarky feyre in sight!

"but i'd made do, even if it had killed not to have white paint, to do something so flawed and lasting." baby, please :( feyre is so humble and grateful, dude. i just know she thanks rhys for every little thing, and it breaks his heart the way it does mine, that she views even basic necessities as luxury.

"believe me, the day you want to marry someone worthy, i'll march up to his house and hand you over. but you're not marrying thomas." — feyre about nesta. she knew and cared even about nesta's heart, about the life she would live in private, and she wanted nesta to find someone WORTHY of her. this is the sister that you all hate on, by the way. but you love the sister that slut-shamed her right after this display of nurturing feyre showed.

this is also the difference between feyre and nesta when it comes to elain. feyre would have never allowed elain to be engaged to a guy like grayson if they were still in the cabin at the time. elain, who she liked more than nesta lol for sure, she would have been more watchful with elain.

but back to how inconsistent sjm is with elain's supposedly lovely character: "i laid my palms flat on the table as i stared her down. elain removed her hand from where it lay nearby, as if the dirt and blood underneath my fingernails would somehow jump onto her porcelain skin." this isn't the behavior of someone who is kind and caring and thinks of others. this is the behavior of someone who is shallow and arrogant and selfish. also, for somebody who is later on spoken of as not caring about dirt because she gardens, this doesn't add up either lol but i digress because sjm is known for showing little consistency with her writing.

feyre calling nesta a burden to her face is some good fucking food, where is this feyre in acomaf? acowar? acosf? sjm really shut her up for no reason, let my girl fight back for once in her life.

literally talking to feyre like she's an animal and not her own baby sister. and this is the perfect display of abuse and emotional torture, by the way. nesta literally admits in her own book to enjoy causing feyre pain and hurt. she's deranged, mentally deficient, and i don't know how she even has a single stan. and she has the nerve of being like "as if our life was that bad", "since having sisters sucked so much for you", like SHE wasn't doing all this 😭 the perfect display of a narcissistic abuser fr.

and again, elain showed sympathy to who? exactly.

my heart goes out to feyre so much. how could she possibly have hope when everybody was leeching off of her and abusing her? she feared she was going to be lost and forgotten to time, and nesta fed into that fear. there was no hope for her.

anyway, this post is already too long, so i'm finishing it here, but i expect to pick up on the pace soon, i probably won't have much to say about tamlin and lucien 'cause i don't really care about them as characters so yeah lol

#📖: a court of thorns and roses #acotar #feyre archeron #pro feyre archeron #pro feyre #elain archeron #anti nesta archeron #anti nesta

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luxcuriousao3 · 2 months ago

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Dove (A Zombie!Ghost Story) Chapter Fourteen

Word Count: 3452 Warnings: some suggestive thoughts/actions, mentions of past abuse, more pining, fluff, minor alcohol use, several large timeskips Notes: There is actually no possible version of this chapter that I'm fully happy with lol. But I hate this one the least. And I hope y'all still find it somewhat enjoyable XD All dividers were made by @/sweetmelodygraphics (original post here). The zombie divider indicates the text below is Ghost's POV, the dove divider indicates Lelia's POV. The combined dove and zombie divider represents a time skip but not a POV change. I still have no beta for this fic so all SPAG and consistency errors are my own, feel free to point them out. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

AO3 | Masterlist

The snow came down heavily most nights over the next few weeks, and Lelia was stuck in the cottage more often than not, leaving Simon to continue scavenging alone. Food wasn’t as plentiful in the village as they’d hoped, and at one point, Simon brought back two dead, clumsily skinned squirrels after his hunt. Lelia was horrified, shrieking in disgust when she saw them, and then tearing up out of pity for the poor things.

She ate them anyway.

It wasn’t all bad, though. She managed to convince Simon to let her paint his nails after she caught him watching her do her own. He objected to the sparkly pink color she was using, so they compromised on a pretty shade of light blue. He’d gone silent and looked at it for a long time when she first offered it to him, and he’d seemed almost… sad. Or perhaps lost was the better word. When she’d tried to ask him about it, he’d just shrugged and stayed quiet, not even letting out a grunt or groan. She’d pursed her lips in concern, and spent the next hour trying to cheer him up by telling him how stunning he’d look with his new nails.

Simon had pretended not to be amused, but she could tell that he was.

Today, she was reading him poetry when she was struck with a sudden thought.

“Simon,” she said, getting his attention. He opened his eyes, staring up at her from where his head was laying in her lap. She bit her lip, hesitating for a second, but then continued. “Would you… I mean, you don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to, of course, but— would you like me to try to teach you how to read?”

Simon didn’t answer for a long moment, didn’t so much as move, and she started to worry that she’d upset him. She didn’t know why he couldn’t read—he had to have been able to at some point, to be a soldier, but she didn’t know if he had lost the ability before or after he died. She didn’t even know if he knew.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said, when the silence got to her. “I wasn’t— I didn’t mean to presume—”

Simon cut her off by sitting up and cupping her cheek with one hand, looking into her eyes. The cloudy film on his own had begun to fade two weeks past, showing hints of the brown beneath. It was nice to finally know their color. Just like the dirty blond hair, brown suited him.

Neither of them knew what it meant, that it was coming back. Neither of them dared to hope, either.

“Yyeah,” Simon grunted, tapping the poetry book and nodding. “Llllearn… yyeahh.”

“Yeah?” Lelia echoed, a slow, tentative smile blooming on her face. She felt his thumb dig into the apple of her cheek lightly, and it made her blush. She quickly looked away, down at her book. “Well… I’ll have to grab some paper and a pen, then. We’ll start by relearning the alph—”

Simon’s hand moved to grip her chin, lifting her face again. A small, stuttered breath left her, her eyes widening as they looked into his once more.

Is he going to kiss me?

As soon as she had the thought, she realized how stupid it was—not just because Simon didn't have lips, but because he couldn’t possibly see her in such a way, either.

Do I want him to see me in such a way?

Do I see him that way?

Simon was still staring at her, slightly-less cloudy eyes raking over every inch of her face. His broken jaw quivered where it hung, drool sliding out the corner and down his chin. Without thinking about it, Lelia reached up to wipe it away. A second later, she blinked in surprise at the instinctiveness of the gesture. But what was there to be shocked about? She cleaned his drool all the time. She always had. And she always would.

Oh. Oh.

She sucked in a deep breath, feeling dizzy as the realization rocked through her. She loved him. She loved Simon, her zombie, her protector, her only friend. She felt stupid that she hadn’t noticed her own feelings sooner—how many times had she thought about how handsome he was? How many times had she thought that he was the only person who had ever made her happy? That she was selfishly glad the world had ended, because it had brought them together?

It was so obvious, she almost laughed. But then Simon let go of her and tapped the book again, and the spell was broken. She delicately cleared her throat, trying to ignore the way her heart raced in her chest, and the way her whole world felt like it’d been turned on its head. She could agonize over what she was supposed to do now, how she was supposed to act like everything was normal when she was in love with a zombie who would never love her back—or she could teach that zombie to read, like she had offered. She could avoid ruining her relationship with the only person to ever care about her, or she could risk it all.

Lelia had never been very brave.

“I’ll go get that paper,” she said, making her choice.

Time passed.

He spent most of it in genuine fucking domestic bliss with his dove, cuddled up with her in front of the fireplace when the snow kept her trapped inside, and exploring the village with her when it didn’t. Every little treasure she found made its way back to their cottage, turning it into something resembling a home. She’d even collected a few children’s workbooks for him, and she’d looked so excited that he couldn’t find it in himself to be embarrassed—especially not when they actually helped. He could recognize the first dozen or so letters of the English alphabet, now, all thanks to her. His beautiful miracle worker.

“Hold still,” Lelia scolded him lightly when he reached over to try and run his fingers through her hair. He grumbled but relented as she batted his hand away, focusing back on his bare arm, which was laid out on the kitchen table, palm facing up. She was carefully filling in his tattoos with a fluffy makeup brush and a bunch of colorful eyeshadow. The pallet she’d found the other day was massive, with over two dozen shades, half of which were downright ugly, in his opinion. He also didn't understand why anyone would need five different hues of blue, but Lelia had been ecstatic about that, so he supposed it wasn’t entirely stupid.

His dove had spent the last hour turning his greying, translucent skin into a damn rainbow. Purples, pinks, reds, yellows, oranges, greens, and all those shades of blue filled in the spaces between the black lines of his tattoos. He felt like a bloody coloring book—but it was worth it to see the proud little smile on Lelia’s face when she finally straightened up and set aside her brush.

“There,” she said, pleased. “Now we match.”

She batted her dark lashes at him, drawing attention to the light blue powder on her eyelids. He groaned. Loudly. Lewdly. But she just giggled, innocently unaware. Christ, she had no idea the things she did to him…

It was getting harder and harder to keep his desires to himself. She’d had another wet dream in his arms just the other night, and he nearly gave in right then and there. He'd wanted to touch her, to taste her, so fucking badly. It was only the memory of her teary, devastated face when she’d confessed about what that bastard of a husband used to do to her in her sleep that had him slipping out of the bed instead of slipping his hands into her sleep shorts.

Ghost was a monster, had been even before he died and came back wrong. But he wasn’t evil. He wouldn’t do that to her. He would never hurt a hair on her precious little head.

“You’re sniffing me again,” Lelia pointed out, and Ghost grunted as he leaned back, putting some space between them. He had been sniffing at her hair like a damn dog, without even realizing. Bloody hell, but that never stopped being embarrassing. “Do you need to go hunt?”

He shook his head, clearing his throat a bit awkwardly before standing up and fetching one of his workbooks from the shelf over the table, along with a pencil. Lelia smiled brightly, clearing away the makeup so there was space for him to practice. He sat back down and opened the book up to the last page they had worked on—one covering the letter N.

“Do you want a refresher?” His dove asked, but he shook his head. The letter was recognizable to him now, as were the ones that came before it, and he was eager to move on. He wanted to be able to read again, to write again. It would make communicating with Lelia so much easier.

“Alright then,” she said, turning to the next page for him. It just looked like two N’s smushed together. “This is the letter M, like in Mama. It makes a mmmuh sound when used in a word. Mmmuh. Mmmuh. It's written like this…”

Lelia loved Simon so much it hurt.

The thought never left her alone, not since she had realized it nearly a month ago. The ache in her cheeks from constantly smiling at the sight of him, the way her heart raced whenever he touched her, the not-nerves that squirmed in her belly when he let out that deep, rumbling growl—none of it would let her forget, not even for a second. Now that she was aware of how hopelessly in love she was, it was all she could think about.

She was sure she was doing a terrible job keeping her feelings a secret, but Simon never seemed to notice. Nothing changed between them, at least. She was simultaneously relieved and disappointed at that fact.

They were currently searching the only section of the village that they hadn’t been in before. Simon had insisted on sweeping the area before letting Lelia step foot in it, like a chivalrous knight of old from her favorite stories. She barely refrained from confessing then and there. Instead, she’d just told him to hurry back, her arms wrapped around him in a hug.

As ordered, he made it quick, returning only ten minutes after he’d gone. So of course, when an hour later a zombie stumbled out of a closet Lelia was looking for new clothes in, he blamed himself. Doubly so when she tripped and fell into a broken window trying to get away, the sharp glass splitting her skin. She could tell by the way Simon reacted, sprinting into the room at the sound of her scream, an inhuman snarl tearing from his throat as he tackled the zombie to the floor and ripped it to shreds.

It was the first time since the cabin that she’d seen him fight another undead, and though it was scary, it was concerningly attractive, too. There was something wrong with her, she was sure, because the sight of Simon covered in gore and viscera, chest heaving, teeth bared… it made her heart race and her body feel warm.

But just like every other time she feared she was being exceedingly obvious about how badly she wanted him, he was oblivious. She found herself almost wishing he would notice, or that she could find the bravery to tell him, because living like this was painful.

But not as painful as it would be if he found out the truth and left her because of it.

Lelia insisted on cleaning Simon the second they got back to the cottage, refusing to let him have a look at the cut on her arm until she’d brushed his teeth and helped him change into fresh clothes. He’d fought her on that, but there were very few things she was stubborn about, so when she decided to be, she went all in. Only when she’d made it clear that she’d bleed out before letting him treat her wound while covered in zombie guts, did he finally relent. Even then, the second she was done, he scooped her up and carried her into the living room before plopping her onto the couch. He briefly disappeared into the kitchen, only to come back with a bottle of cheap whiskey to sterilize her wound with.

He poured a little bit of alcohol onto a clean rag and set the bottle down on the coffee table, before beginning to disinfect the deep cut on her forearm with gentle ministrations. It stung, but Lelia didn’t so much as twitch, used to far worse. Instead, she stared at the whiskey curiously.

It smelled something awful, nothing like the top shelf liquor her father and husband used to drink. Lelia found herself itching to try it regardless—neither man had ever let her have anything more than half a glass of champagne. Hard liquor wasn’t ladylike, after all.

She’d had a terrible dream about Andrew last night. Just the memory of it—hands, pushing her head underwater as his cock forced its way inside her—made her shudder. Maybe it was that—that need for reassurance that she was no longer his pretty little art piece to destroy on a whim—that had her reaching for the bottle. Maybe it was her brush with death earlier that day that had her taking a generous sip. Whatever it was, she regretted it instantly, the whiskey polluting her mouth with a taste so foul she thought she might be sick. It was even worse going down, burning her throat and making her cough like someone dying of tuberculosis.

Simon laughed, that familiar, gravelly chuckle settling in her chest, warm and heavy. Or perhaps that was the whiskey. Either way, she wanted to hear it again, so when Simon reached for the bottle to take it away from her, she pouted and took another, big sip. She gagged in between her coughs this time, but it was worth it. It was so worth it, because suddenly, Simon’s cold fingers left her bandaged arm, plucking the bottle from her grasp and setting it back on the table, before he tugged her off of the couch and into his lap. He gathered both her wrists in one hand, pinning them between their chests as he took her chin in the other. He swiped his thumb over her bottom lip, wiping away a drop of alcohol.

“Naughhhhh’yyyy,” he groaned, low and playful, and Lelia sucked in a sharp breath, eyelashes fluttering. The warmth spread outwards from her chest, and a shuddering gasp escaped her, hot air ghosting over Simon’s fingers as she fell into his touch, irresistibly drawn to him. She could have sworn she saw his own cloudy, speckled eyes darken, and felt his loose grip on her wrists tighten. Wishful thinking, probably, but she was struggling to think rationally between the slight buzz of alcohol in her brain and the dizziness caused by his touch.

Lelia shifted a little bit, straddling his strong things. Her heart raced in her chest and part of her knew she wouldn’t be so bold if not for the whiskey—but maybe that was why she had drank it after all. She just wanted to be as close to Simon as possible. She’d tuck herself inside the hollow of his chest, if she could.

He could be inside you.

Lelia shivered at the thought. That nervous squirming sensation in her belly was back, but she knew by now it wasn’t fear—it was something she had never experienced before, at least not to the degree Simon’s touches caused. No, it was the feeling she got when she saw a fit actor on the telly take off his shirt. It was the feeling she got when her Year Eleven English teacher—a handsome, slightly older man that wore reading glasses and sweater vests—called her a good girl for helping her fellow students whenever they didn’t understand the material like she did. And shamefully, it was the feeling she sometimes got—very rarely—when Andrew or the soldiers took her. But this time, there was no terror or disgust attached to the moment. There was just Simon, and how he made her feel. Safe. Treasured.

Aroused.

Simon was silent and still beneath her. He’d let go of her wrists, and his hands drifted down her body to settle on her hips, thumbs slipping under the hem of her sleep shirt to rub circles into her flesh. She swallowed, and then leaned forward, until her lips pressed against the hard plastic of his mask, right over his forehead. He shuddered, grip tightening, and Lelia moved her lips lower, kissing the spot just beneath his left eye, then his right.

“Please,” she begged Simon, voice soft and needy. “Please take it off… I want to see you. I want to see all of you.”

Simon stared up at her with an unreadable look in his foggy eyes, taking deep, rattling breaths even though she knew he didn’t need to. But then he jerked his head to the side sharply, a denial.

“Sssscaa’eee… yyyyouuu,” he mumbled, looking away. Lelia’s heart broke, and she tried to gently turn his face back towards hers, but he wouldn’t budge. She sighed, resting her temple against his shoulder, her arms wrapped around his neck, eyes still trained on him.

“You could never scare me, Simon,” she whispered. “Never. You’re the only person who’s ever made me feel safe.”

Don’t.

Ghost knew he should listen to the voice in his head—not Johnny’s, for once—and refuse. He’d traumatize his sweet little dove if she caught a glimpse of him. He could see it all too clearly—the second his gaunt, rotted face was revealed to her, she’d start crying and lock herself in her room.

But she’d asked, and he was pure shite at saying no to her.

Slowly, he reached up and began to lift his mask. Lelia’s eyes widened and she straightened before going perfectly still, watching with rapt attention. He swallowed thickly, fucking terrified that she would scream and run away. That this would ruin everything between them.

“Please,” she whispered again when he paused, hesitating. He gave a full-body twitch, but then yanked his mask the rest of the way off, like he was ripping off a plaster. She gasped, and Simon closed his eyes, unable to stand the sight of the horrified expression that was bound to be on her face.

Several seconds of silence passed, but then suddenly, he felt Lelia’s plush lips on his forehead. His eyes snapped open as she began to pepper his face with lingering kisses, just like she had his mask. He could feel the softness of her skin, the feathery touch and addictive warmth.

“You’re so beautiful,” she breathed in between kisses. Simon could barely hear her, entranced with the delicious, searing heat of her mouth on his cheeks, his nose, even his broken jaw and the corner of his lipless mouth. “Thank you… thank you for trusting me… for caring for me… for saving me… Simon, I—”

She cut herself off, pulling back to look into his eyes. As his hands found her hips again, he watched her carefully, a part of him still waiting for rejection.

“I love you, Simon.”

I love you. I love you. I love you, Simon.

Lelia’s soft words rang in his ears. He let out a choked noise, his hands squeezing her so tightly she whimpered. He immediately let go of her, and she looked at him with a mortified expression.

“I’m sorry,” she said in a rush, blinking rapidly as her eyes grew shiny. “Just— just forget I s-said anything, I shouldn’t h-have, I’m sorry—”

Simon didn’t have lips to kiss his dove with. He didn’t have the words to tell her how badly he wanted her. He couldn’t press her palm to his chest and show her how she made his heart race, the sensation just a phantom of memory.

But fuck, if he wouldn’t bloody well try.

He laid a hand over her heart, and recalled one of the first poems she read him—a favorite of hers, she’d said. Carefully, he spoke.

“Cccaaaarrryyyy thiiiiisss,” he patted his own chest with his other hand. “Innn hheeeerre.” The tears in her eyes spilled over, and finally, finally, she surged forward, her mouth crashing against. And for the first time since he’d died, Simon felt truly human.

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slavicnoodle · 17 days ago

Text

How to NOT feed from a giant 101

Shy!Giant x Vampire!fem!reader

Warnings: mentions of imprisoning humans

My first smut! English is not my first language!

MDNI

Kinks: size difference (9 feet giant and you), cunnilingus, p in v, soft femdom, fingers in mouth, giants, edging, forced orgasm, tongue fucking

Living away from civilization where winters span on longer than three months, are so unforgiving that no animal can be seen around would be impossible for a usual creature. Not for a vampire. Just need to lure in travelers with the light coming from your cozy cottage, charm them with your vampiric beauty while they think you're just a pretty human woman and end up with a blood supply for a good while until new one comes.

Mordechai was another of your victims. Poor guy got lost from his clan of giants in the snowstorm. The wind was pushing snowflakes in his eyes, paradoxically burning them. The snow he was walking through kept falling inside his boots, melting and freezing and worsening his mood that is also at its cold breaking point. But the faint yellow glow he could see through his squinting kept him on his feet. When he finally managed to stand in front of the door, he didn't even have to knock and they opened, revealing a cute little human looking up at his bundled form. "Come on in! Don't stand there!" You pulled him inside. He would bonk his head against the doorframe if he didn't react fast enough. Your humble abode was not made for his stature of estimately nine feet. "I hope I'm not intruding. I only need to wait out the snowstorm. I really don't want to intrude..." Mordechai shyly stands where you pulled him in, not daring to move to accidentally break anything of yours. "Awwww, so careful! Just sit down. I won't mind if you stay, I'd like some company," you reassured him, trying to take off his coat but since he's about nine feet tall you ended up jumping around him, tugging at his sleeves like some puppy. He noticed your struggle. "Oh, I apologize, I'll take it off... and my shoes," he muttered, shedding his outer layers and squelching boots. "My name is Mordechai. And yours?"

You had your eyes on him since you saw him through the window. His big body would keep you sustained for a looooong time. And also as an eye candy. He has long, dark blue, wavy hair that reaches his waist and red eyes like rubies. They would seem intimidating on anyone else, but on him they are so gentle. His bushy eyebrows downturned, lips too, like a polite yet anxious child. He even has chubby cheeks! So cute! His body on the other hand... He's big. In every aspect. Not just as a giant. But as a man. Your eyes got stuck on his pecs straining his shirt, the buttons fighting for their life. Then glanced south. Yup. The way to the shy giant's blood is going to be through his dick.

Normally you tie your victims up and keep them barely alive in your basement. But he's too strong. You needed to make him compliant. Thankfully he seemed like a kind man. That should be easy.. You showed him the peak of your hospitality, brought out a whole feast, rearranged your whole room to make space for the makeshift couch-matress-blankets bed that could support his body. He helped, of course. All polite and blushing whenever you just as much as brushed your fingers against his. When the time to go to sleep came, he still didn't make any move. Lying on the bed as still as he could, offering to sleep on the floor. Anything to not be a burden.

That won't do. He is either too gentlemanly, unsure by the height difference or just a virgin. Either way you somehow have to make him want to fuck. Have to take the matter in your own hands. "I'll put a cup of water on the nighstand in case you get thirsty at night," you chirped, scurrying towards your guest who had sat up on the makeshift bed, tripping against his foot and pouring the water on him and mainly on the crotch of his pants. "I'm so sorry! I'll clean it up!" You squeaked in fake panic, grabbing a handkerchief to pat the stain dry. The moment you did touch his buldge, Mordechai grabbed your hand, pulling you away. Now his ears joined his cheeks that nicely complimented his eyes. "I'll go change," he says before hurrying to the little bathroom of yours. After few minutes he peeked out, still red in face and asks in a tiny voice: "Do you have any blankets I could wrap around myself?"

"Sorry, but I used them all on the bed," you rubbed your neck sheepishly. A lie. "But I won't mind if you were bare. I can blow out the candles. We are going to sleep anyways. No need for a light," you offered generously. The truth is that vampires can see clearly in the dark so you still could have clear view of your guest's physique to try another attempt to seduce him.

"I see... I'll take you up on that. Can you blow them out then, please?" He asked shyly. And when the room was covered by the darkness, he got out, shuffling slowly to the bed, crouching, arms spread in front of him to not bump into anything. Yet he still knocked something off. Or someone. Someone who oh, so conveniently got in his way. Mordechai yelped, reaching out for you to steady you, but out of sheer panic ended up pulling you to his torso. "Are you okay?!" The poor giant looked down through the dark on the more darker blob that was you, patting you with his hands all over to check for any injuries. "Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm okay. Though I may have a bruise," you whined. "From what?! Where?" He looks horrified. He didn't mean to! Stupid giant body!

"From this," your tone turned teasing and he can hear your grin in it as you touched his dick. Mordechai gasped. He forgot he's naked and hard, out of concern for your well-being. "I-I'm sorry! I-I'll sleep on the floor! Please don't kick me out! I-It's not because of you!" Poor guy sounded like he was on the verge of crying. His bottom lip wobbled and steped back, ashamed and covering his erection. "Not because of me?" You ask, trying your best to sound sad. "I-I don't mean-! You're not ugly! Not at all! J-just...!" He turned into a stammering mess. Giants are intimidating race with quick tempers. But this one is just a puppy. He's smaller than his kin who reach twelve feet. Maybe he's a runt? Is that why he's so shy? Maybe you should be a bit kinder too. The teasing was obviously stressing him and not bringing him or you closer to your goal.

You took a deep breath and said: "I'm just teasing, sweetheart. Come sit down." You patted the spot on the bed next to you. Mordechai thought for a while before doing as you said. "Does it hurt anywhere?" You asked, looking him over. No wounds, only kilos of juicy meat in front of you. "No," he mumbled. " "And what about that problem? Do you need help?" You asked instead. The flush traveled down his neck. He is like a tomato. A bit lower and two massive tomatoes would-

"I-It's okay. I'll just sleep it off...," the guy looked at his hands, avoiding eye contact.

"I insist. It is me who ruined your clothes and made you uncomfortable-" He interrupted you: "You didn't! I am just not used to anyone touching my...," trailed off and gulps. Too shy to say it.

"Dick?"

"Don't say it!" He yelled, covering your mouth. And face. You gently pried his fingers off. "Don't be shy. As I said, I don't mind you being naked," you softly kissed his fingers, making sure to not reveal your fangs. His breath hitched, getting quiet, just watching you. So kisses are the way. Noted. You travelled up with your kisses and when you got to his shoulder, you were already pushing him gently down on his back. "Just lie back and enjoy," you giggled, loving his puppy eyes that look up at you in a silent plea. "Have you kissed anyone?" The question escaped your mouth while it hovered centimeters from his. He nodded shakily. "Good. Don't eat my face then," you joked before leaning down. It is kinda hard to kiss someone whose open mouth can almost fully envelope your head. But you two managed to find some gentle rhythm. His tongue was not choking you anymore and you licked it back, making Mordechai groan. Such a sensitive guy... After few minutes he pulled you away to catch a breath and you seized the opportunity to bury your face in his chest. It's so soft and big. You grab full handfuls and whined in happiness. "You have great tits."

"Those are pecs," he muttered, watching you curiously. "Do you... like them?"

"What do you think?" You answered his question with another question and a flick to his nipple, making him whimper. "You do," answered himself shyly, whimpering softly as you play with his stiffening nipples. When you starter sucking, his whole body arched, almost throwing you off. You just just managed to hold on, with mouth full, keeping your firm ministrations on his hard bud. "P-please, my other one," he begged, taking your hand and putting it over his other nipple. You pinch and flicker it to match the movements of your tongue, making him tremble under you until he's covering his face with his hands and loudly whimpering. Soon he pulled you off of his chest like a kitten. "That... That's enough," panted, looking positively sweaty and embarrassed again. "Is something wrong? Did I do something?" You asked, not wanting him to be uncomfortable again. He enjoyed it, right? Why is he like that then... oh.

You could see his belly painted in white spurts. "Did you-," you started and he again shuts you up. But now with fingers in your mouth. Your eyes widened. You couldn't let him feel your fangs and realize what you are. So you started sucking and licking, keeping teeth away. The giant wiggled his fingers, playing with your tiny tongue. He looks a bit more confident now. "Shush. Now it's your turn," he muttered breathlessly and with free hand carefully stripped you down. Thankfully, you did not have any buttons, only knots. He'd rip them out with his undelicate hands. His lips parted when he saw your naked form. His eyes have had adapted to the dark, so he could see a bit more clearly. Not as good as you, but something.

"You're so pretty," he let his hand roam over your figure and then pulled you by the ankle towards him. His face to be specific. "Going to return the favour," he mumbled before lying you on his chest and diving in. You could not get a word in since he still had fingers your mouth. You don't need this! You need to make him cum to drink his blood! He won't feel a thing and you can just use sex as an excuse to feed! But maybe you'll wait for a bit. His tongue was wider and longer than anything you felt before, licking your slit in slow strokes. It felt good. And by the sight of his dick behind your head slowly getting up, he enjoyed it too. He looked at you from between your legs he was carefully pinning to your chest and engulfed your whole pussy in his mouth, sucking. You let out a choked yelp and his eyes crinkled. So he can tease too. He sucked your delicate flesh with abandon, the strenght of the suction making you feel like your clitoris will be ripped off, but his tongue kept it attached to your body, soothing it in maddening pain-pleasure combo that made your toes curl and squirm. He kept doing it until gushes of juices started to escape from your pussy, slurping them eagerly. When you thought your orgasm started subsiding, he squeezed his tongue in your still pulsing channel, making you cum again with a scream. He pulled out his glistening fingers from your mouth just in time to be able to hear it. You crouched forward to grab his hair and push your hips more against his face and he let you. Grunting in what was probably approval while he wiggled his tongue inside you, until you fell limp back on his cum stained belly, twitching.

"Are you already satisfied?" He sat up, scooping you in his arms. He's once again sweet, kissing the top of your head. He wiped the cum from his belly with a single digit and stuffed it in your mouth. You take it back. He still has a backbone. You looked up at him with a pout, cleaning his finger. "Good girl," he giggled. You blush. Damn him. Why is he affecting you so much?! Damned soft boy. In and out. You need to take control. So you pushed him again on his back. "Shush," you huffed, scooting back to rub against his dick. He hissed and shuts up. You watched closely how he bit his lip to stifle the whimpers escaping his mouth. You continued to rub your genitals together, mixing his precum with your juices. His dick is massive by human standarts. Thick all the way with no curve. And the tip, too. It's quite pale like the rest of him but had flushed pretty pink. "Pretty dick," you glanced at him to catch his reaction. And reaction it is. He also gets flushed pink and covered his face. Awwww.

You grinned and began to position yourself above his cockhead, letting it part your lips, preparing for putting it in. You should be thankful for him eating you out since he loosened you up nicely. Not enough though. It's still going to be a tight fit. Thankfully you're a vampire with immediate regeneration. Even if you tear, it heal instantly. The pain should be minimal and is worth the blood. You're the only one except his kin who can take his dick. "Such a sweetheart. So cute when blushing," You cooed at him, then started to tease the tip. Only the tip. In. And out. In. And out. He was twitching everytime it got just a bit of fricton and after few minutes of the pleasurably agonizing edging he looked at you with puppy eyes, tearing up. "Please, put it in," begged, shakily wrapping his hand around your waist to push you down, yet keeping still. "Sure, be patient," you patted the hand and start to lower yourself inch by agonizing inch. Every nerve in your gummy walls was screaming and you were feeling mikrotears forming and healing up. Few tears brimmed in your eyes. He better be damn tasty after this. He firmly held you, not pushing you down but not allowing you up. So you descended a bit faster than you thought, your pussy meeting his base, your asscheeks sitting on his sack and your clitoris buried in his coarse bush, making you whimper. You could see the buldge of his dick in your belly and he squeezed your waist, making it touch your every nerve, resulting in you cumming out of nowhere once again, all over his cock. Atleast you're not alone cause he came right after you, the feeling of your gummy walls gripping and massaging him was simply too much. Hot ropes of cum filled your undead womb and spill out from the sheer amount he was shooting. You two calmed down in few minutes. "Sorry, you felt too good."

"Its okay. Just cum again," you muttered. It is his second orgasm and you still didn't manage to drink from him. You're getting desperate. Who knows how much he can cum. This could be your last chance. So you started moving, the cum providing additional lubrication, making it easier to set a fast rhytm. Mordechai whimpered, his soft dick still inside you hardening for the third time. "Ah! Not so fast!" He begged yet helped you keep the rhytm with his hand around your waist. "Kiss me," you whispered. You need to get close to his neck.

He obliged, crouching down to kiss you. Your free hands reached his pecs again and pinched his nipples, making him moan in your mouth. "Keep going. Want to cum on you," whinedcin the kiss. Driven by the promise of him cumming, your tiny fingers tugged at his stiff peaks roughly and soon you felt him on the verge of cumming, breathing heavily and dick twitching. So you pulled away from the kiss and latched onto his neck, kissing him hungrily. Which you are. And just when he finally groaned as another burst of cum exploded in your pussy, you sunk your teeth in his neck, gulping moutful of blood.

But you were ripped away as he immediately lifted you off of his dick and put in the way of his shooting cum, painting your hungry stomach white like he wanted to. "Twins," he smiled, not feeling your bitemark at all. He cadled you tightly in his warm arms, lied down with you under blanket, looking happy and satisfied. You on the other hand have your lips stained with his blood and are pissed off.

Next time you will drink from his dick while sucking it.

Words: over 2,700

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lavandulawrites · 1 year ago

Text

In The Arms Of A Longing Man (rewritten)

Yandere Childe x reader

This was the first fanfic I have ever written. I was scrolling through my fics and I suddenly got the urge to rewrite it:))

Masterlist

Synopsis: Ajax can’t seem to let you go.

Word count: 1726

His dead eyes where something you wished you would never have to see again. Every day you prayed to whichever archon who might listen, the he would be gone. It was no surprise that the archons failed you as everything else in you life. Had you just realised that something was terribly wrong with him from the beginning, everything would have been different. If you hadn’t met him the day before your original departure, your life would be normal.

The ice cold Snezhnayan wind blew through the treetops, creating a whistling sound. You cussed at yourself for not wearing a ticker scarf, but you knew very well that Childe would be extremely mad disappointed if you didn’t wear the scarf he so kindly had gifted you. You could only hope that you wouldn’t get a frostbite.

“Hurry up soldiers!” the commander yelled. You and the other Fatui soldiers hurried as fast as you could in the heavy snow. Oh, how you longed for your warm little cottage that was safely hidden in the big forest by the little village you had grown so fond of.

You thought that joining the Fatui was a good idea. You had hoped then that you would be able to escape the poverty that had hunted you since you were born. You did in fact earn more than you ever had, but it didn’t take long before you soon regretted your horrible decision. You had realised then that you had been blinded by the hope of earning enough money to live a good life. You had been so blinded that you had not thought about all the cruel acts one had to commit in order to become a true Fatui soldier. You realised soon after arriving to Snezhnaya that you had been incredibly foolish and naive to believe you could avoid all the evil deeds. How could you be so utterly foolish? You were truly ashamed of your naive thinking.

You had to leave the Fatui as soon as possible. Today was the day you were going to tell your superior that you were going to take a boat back to Mondstadt the following day.

You were going back and forth in front of her superior’s office. You didn’t have any other choice. You held your breath and raised you hand to knock on the door.

“Hi! You’re [Name] right? You’re one of the new recruits if I remember correctly?” a voice behind you said gleefully. You jumped at the sound and quickly turned around to get a look on the person who the voice belonged to. It was Tartaglia, one of the Eleven Harbingers.

“Hello sir. Yes you’re indeed correct” you straightened your back and bowed deeply in respect.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be training with the other recruits?” the Harbinger grinned.

“Yes, I should, but I’m here regarding my position here in the Fatui. I’m going to quit” you looked down at the floor. The light blue tiles were wet, and a small puddle was forming underneath Childe’s boots. You didn’t know why you were telling him all this. Maybe it was because he was a Harbinger and you felt the need to tell him? His grin was gone and replaced by and unreadable expression. Had you gone too far by telling him? Probably, judging by his expression or rather lack of.

“Oh… really. May I ask why?” his lips were pressed tighter in a tight line. You really shouldn’t tell him the reason, but you definitely shouldn’t lie to him.

You sighed “I am really not fit for being a member of the Fatui”.

He hummed. “I see…” he looked disappointed. He turned in his heel and walked away down the dark hallway. He waved over his shoulder. “By then, dear [Name]” his singsong voice echoed against the empty hallways.

You tumbled back against the door. You were relieved that he didn’t scold you or worse… Still, you got a bad feeling.

The office door opened. The sergeant looked you up and down with disapproval. “What brings you here. And why is your uniform wrinkled?” he motioned for you to enter. You must have knocked on the door when you leaned against it by accident.

“Sit” he said and sat himself on a fancy leather chair behind his newly polished desk. He was waiting for you to speak up.

“You see sir, I have thought about it for a while and I have concluded that I will resign from my position in the Fatui” you said as you neatly folded your hands in your lap. You tried to put on an air of confidence, but you knew he could see right through you.

“I am sure you have” his tone mocking. “Why? Do you not feel honoured by being a soldier? Are you really that ungrateful?” he pushed his small round glasses up his nose. His eyes narrow and filled with anger.

“No! Of course not! I’m very grateful that I got this position. It’s just that I feel… like it’s not for me. The Fatui have use for someone better than me” you tried desperately to explain.

He scoffed “Well… I guess I can’t deny you since you applied yourself. It’s a shame really. You’re dismissed.” He waved his hand at you.

“Thank you for understanding, sir” you bowed and hurried out of the room. You sighed in relief. I really did it!

The next day you had finished packing and was on your way to the pier. The docks in Snezhnaya were freezing, but you couldn’t care less. Finally you were going home. You were about to board the boat, when a few Fatui soldiers surrendered you.

“We have orders from the Eleventh Harbinger to arrest you” the tallest of them said.

Your eyes widened and fear crept over your entire being. What on earth was going on? You hadn’t done anything wrong. “Why?” you asked and you prayed that you didn’t sound scared, but judging from your voice you did.

“You have leaked secret information about the Fatui to other nations” a broad shouldered man said. He was shorter than the others, but his strength was clearly superior. He was eyeing you up and down and his lips twisted into a mocking grin.

“What?! I have done no such thing! I swear on my life!” you pleaded. Your pleas fell however on dead ears as they forcefully brought you to Zapolyarny Palace.

The footsteps of the soldiers echoed in the seemingly endless hallways. You were shivering. Was this it? Were you going to get executed for crimes you did not commit?

After walking through the dark and cold hallways for what felt like eternity, you stopped in front of two giant twin doors. The doors were the only thing that separated you from you seemingly inevitable doom. The doors opened with a loud groan and the soldiers pushed you in. You stumbled, but quickly caught your balance. The inside was dimly lit, and the walls were decorated to an almost exaggerated state.

The Harbingers were standing in an half circle with the leader of the Fatui in the middle. Their eyes followed your every move and you had never felt so utterly helpless. As you kneeled in front off them, your legs almost gave out. The soldiers behind you followed your example and kneeled.

Pierro cleared his throat. “I am certain you understand why you are here” his gruff voice rung loudly in the spacious hall. You could only nod.

“I am highly disappointed. Such behaviour should be punished with death.” You raised your head and were about to claim your innocence, but stopped when you saw that The Jester was not done talking.

“Thanks to Tartaglia you are spared. Be wise and thank him properly.” Your eyes widened. “You will now be serving directly under him.”

Childe was grinning. You bowed your head. “Thank you for giving me a second chance. To that I am extremely grateful” your voice was quiet. You weren’t grateful at all. Now it would be impossible to leave the Fatui. Serving directly under a Harbinger was worse than death.

“I look forward working with you, comrade” his blue eyes full of indescribable hunger. You swallowed thickly.

“You are dismissed” Pierro’s voice stern. You rose to your feet and bowed deeply before exiting.

The icy wind didn’t get any better as you decided the mountain. The mission had gone smoothly. The snow creaked under your heavy boots. Fear was creeping up your back. You were almost home. You tried to calm your nerves. Maybe he wasn’t in his office? Perhaps his mission was delayed? You could only hope so.

The office door creaked open. You stepped inside with your back straightened. You were not going to show him any fear. The red haired man was staring out the window. He turned around and grinned upon seeing you. “Well if it isn’t [Name]” his voice was soft like velvet. His dead eyes boring into yours. Trying to peer into your soul.

“Hello Tartaglia” you bowed.

He raised an eyebrow playfully “What have I said about treating me so formally when it’s just us?”

“Right…”your voice flat as you eyed the Harbinger.

He walked towards you with a wolfish grin. He stroked your cheek gently. “Oh, how I have missed you…” he sighed. You didn’t answer. He curled his his arms around your and held you tightly. You didn’t dare to hug him back. He lowered his head and whispered in her ear “You can’t escape me now. Do you seriously think that the commander doesn’t tell me everything?”

Chills ran down your spine. He laughed coldly. “He told me that you were planning on leaving the group and and flee across the border. How utterly foolish you are” he sighed and looked you straight in the eye. His expression filled with madness.

He gripped your your chin firmly. “Do you know how hurt I was when I heard that? I can’t possibly let you go now. No you are way to naive for this cruel world” his features twisted in faux sadness. “Oh, how I have longed for you since the first time I saw you” his voice soft and his gaze tender. His lips pulled back into a terrifying smile. “I will never let you go.”

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capybaratrait · 1 year ago

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But Daddy I Love Him!: A Disney Princess Legacy Challenge

I didn't really like any version of the Disney Princess Legacy so I decided to do one myself! I tried not to repeat traits, skills... But sometimes I couldn't figure out, sorry! I also included a color scheme based on the princess. You have to complete the aspiration, career and max the skills, unless stated otherwise. I also included some extra goals!

It's not playtested, so I might make changes as I play. I have an edited lifespan that makes Young Adulthood and Adulthood a little bit longer, but Teenagehood and Childhood shorter. My guess is that you could finish the challenge in normal lifespan, but you also can do it in long or with a custom lifespan, or even turn aging off if you want to! Whatever you want to do!

Also, I had to be quite... Creative in some of the princess descriptions, because their personalities are very similar.

Also, there's not really any general rules. Your heir can be any gender you want (Everyone can be a princess!), if you want to cheat, cheat, if you wanna change something, change it!

Generation 1. Snow White 🍎

Packs: Cottage Living, Parenthood

Running away from a terrible family, you find yourself in a tiny cottage in the middle of nowhere. You dedicate yourself to keep it clean and make it a home. A hopeless romantic, you dream of finding your true love and form a beautiful family.

Traits: Cheerful, Romantic, Childish

Aspiration: Soulmate

Career: Stay-at-Home Parent

Skills: Cooking, Parenting, Cross-Stitching

Colors: Red, Blue and Yellow

Make seven friends

Marry your first love and stay with them all your life. Don’t woohoo before marriage

Befriend wild animals (bunnies, birds, foxes)

Have three children

Grow an apple tree of magnificent quality in your backyard

Generation 2. Cinderella 👠

Packs: High School Years, Cats and Dogs, My First Pet Stuff

Your parent instill in you the importance of being a hard-worker, but you can’t help but wish for a better life! With your two siblings making your life impossible, you spent your teenage years working a part-time job and saving as much money as you could to get away from them. As a young adult, you move to your own place and start working in the world of fashion.

Traits: Ambitious, Overachiever, Perfectionist

Aspiration: Fabulously Wealthy

Career: Style Influencer

Skills: Writing, Painting, Charisma, Photography

Colors: Silver

Have a bad relationship with your two siblings

As a teen, reach max level of a part-time job of your choice

Always have a rat and a cat as your pets

You need no one to achieve success! But, eventually, you find someone as rich as talented as you have become (aka, don’t marry/move with before you have completed at least 3 tiers of your aspiration)

Generation 3. Aurora 🛏️

Packs: Nifty Knitting, Get Famous, Parenthood, Island Living

Unlike your parent, you don't even have to move a finger to get what you want. Born and raised in a wealthy family, you might be getting a little spoiled. That’s why your parents send you to live in your uncle/aunt’s house. There, you learn some good lessons, like the importance of generosity and hard work. Although some things never change… And naps are still your favorite pastime!

Traits: Lazy, Creative, Generous

Aspiration: Lord/Lady of the Knits

Career: Career Hop

Skills: Comedy, Knitting

Colors: Blue, Pink

Move out to your uncle/aunt’s house as a teen. There, they teach you discipline. Make sure you get at least two good character value traits!

Meet your future spouse at your uncle/aunt’s, but don’t start dating him until you are a young adult. They have to be a mermaid!

As a young adult, you don’t really know what to do. Career hop everytime you receive a call!

You love to knit! It is something you can do while sitting. Unlock all types of clothing and buy objects available with the Knitting skill

Generation 4. Ariel 🧜🏻‍♀️

Packs: Island Living, Snowy Escape, Parenthood

As a teen, you discover that you are not a normal sim: you are a merfolk. Your curious nature makes you move out from your family house to the place where your parent was born and raised, and reconnect with your roots. But when you fall in love with a normal sim, you decide to renounce your other form and become a boring, normal human.

Traits: Geek, Adventurous, Child of the Ocean

Aspiration: Beach Life

Career: Conservationist

Skills: Logic, Fitness

Colors: Red, Green, Purple

Get the Irresponsible character value trait

As soon as you become a young adult, move out to Sulani

Complete the Seashells collection and another collection of your choice

Befriend a dolphin

Stop being a mermaid when you fall in love with a human sim!

Generation 5. Belle 📚

Packs: High School Years, City Living/For Rent, Growing Together, Cats and Dogs

Ever since you were a kid you loved to hide under the covers with a good book and immerse yourself in a world full of magic where everything is possible. You love to read, it is your favorite thing in the whole world, and to think you also could create those beautiful stories? That's your dream. You also love your family, but you want to have your own life, so after graduating high school you move to a shared apartment looking for a little more independence. Turns out your roommate is a monster, but for some reason you can’t stop thinking that there is goodness deep inside them…

Traits: Bookworm, Creative, Good

Aspiration: Best-Selling Author

Career: Writer

Skills: Writing, Charisma

Colors: Yellow

Try to become a valedictorian or at least graduate with honors in High School!

Share an apartment with a sim with the evil trait. Fall in love with them, and try to change its trait for another one with the self-discovery system!

Keep a rose in your house

Always have a dog in your household

Generation 6. Jasmine 🧞‍♂️

Packs: Get Famous, High School Years, Get Together, For Rent, Romantic Garden Stuff

Stubborn and impulsive, you are not interested in love at all, especially with your parents pressuring you to give them grandkids and introducing you to suitors all the time. You want to triumph, be something for yourself! You might come across as a little self-absorbed, but you have a good heart and will help everyone in need. You move to Del Sol Valley looking for fame, and there you find someone that sparks your interest… But if you do commit to someone, it will be your decision. Your parents will have nothing to say in the matter.

Traits: Self-Absorbed, Hot-Headed, Party Animal

Aspiration: World Famous Celebrity

Career: Actor/Actress

Skills: Acting, Dancing

Colors: Blue

Have a bad relationship with all the sims your parents introduce you, especially with one of them

Fall in love with a sim in the criminal career. Your parents do not approve of them, so they have a bad relationship

Go on a vacation to Tomarang and adopt a tiger!

Make three different wishes with the wishing well over the course of your life

Generation 7. Pocahontas 🌳

Packs: Seasons, Outdoor Retreat, Discover University, Spa Day, For Rent

You grew up in the buzzling city of Del Sol Valley, a place that never sleeps, full of luxury and fake appearances, but you never felt comfortable there. You always had a connection with nature, and as soon as you reach young adulthood, you leave your parents mansion, looking to find inner peace. A natural leader, you decide to devote your life to guide and teach young generations.

Traits: Loves Outdoors, Self-Assured, Vegetarian

Aspiration: Outdoor Enthusiast

Career: Education

Skills: Research & Debate, Herbalism, Wellness

Colors: Brown, Blue

As a child and a teen, be in scouts and collect all the badges!

Have a failed relationship before finding the one you form a family with

You are a deeply spiritual person. Max the friendship bar with one of your dead grandparents

Get the Wise trait as an elder

Generation 8. Mulan 🐉

Packs: StrangerVille, Paranormal

You have a huge sense of responsibility, so you join the military thinking that that is the best way to help people. But then, you are transferred to the town of StrangerVille, and start suspecting the military wants to cover something related to the Secret Lab in the outskirts of town… And you are gonna figure out what it is.

Traits: Clumsy, Active, Family-Oriented

Aspiration: StrangerVille Mystery

Career: Military

Skills: Fitness, Logic

Colors: Green, Blue, Yellow

Fall in love with someone also in the military career. You have to have a bad relationship with them first

Befriend three other co-workers

Matchmake your friends!

Get the Brave reward trait

Generation 9. Tiana 🐸

Packs: Dine Out, Cottage Living, Growing Together

You have a passion for good food, are a very hard-working sim and will do anything possible to achieve your goals! You start working at a restaurant hoping one day you will open your very own, where you will make people happy with your dishes. Oh, you also are obsessed with frogs, but you don’t know where that comes from…

Traits: Foodie, Animal Enthusiast, Self-Assured

Aspiration: Master Chef

Career: Chef/Restaurant Owner

Skills: Cooking, Gourmet Cooking

Colors: Green, Blue

Open your own restaurant after completing the aspiration. Reach the 5 stars!

Complete the frogs collection

Have a best friend

Adopt at least 1 child; They will be the heir. Have a strict family dynamic with them

Generation 10. Rapunzel 🌞

Packs: Get to Work, Horse Ranch, City Living

Your parents were always very protective of you, and you never understood why, until they confessed to you that you were adopted. Because of their strict parenting, you couldn’t do crazy things and learn from your mistakes; you crave adventures and want to discover who you really are. You really are a creative force! You love painting, you love singing, and you also seem to have a gift to make other people feel better, so you decide to become a doctor and spend all your free time looking for your biological parents.

Traits: Art Lover, Music Lover, Genius

Aspiration: Painter Extraordinaire

Career: Doctor

Skills: Painting, Logic, Singing

Colors: Pink, Purple

Find your biological parents as a young adult or an adult

Have a very long hair

Have a horse in your household

Have 4 kids in total. 3 of them have to be triplets!

Note: If I finish the legacy, which I don't think I will because I never finish them 😂 I will make extra generations for Merida, Moana and Raya.

#Sims 4 legacy #Sims 4 legacy challenge #Sims 4 legacy challenge rules #Disney Princess Legacy Challenge #Sims 4 #Sims 4 gameplay #ts4challengehub

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tearsonthemoons · 8 months ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐲 - 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

warning: smut

pairing: president snow x reader

promt: after years apart and the same feelings still remaining, y/n happens to run into her past lover Coriolanus at the old cottage they used to share.

The sun was setting in a rich tapestry of gold and crimson as I strolled through the familiar streets of my old village, the typical things on my mind, my old cottage, my old music box, the sweet bakery smells, and of course, the man I'm still desperate for despite the years behind our no longer continuing story.

As I continued to walk through my favorite field, the one I first kissed Coriolanus in, the air was fragrant with the scent of blooming jasmine and night time flowers, stirring up long-forgotten memories. It had been years since I last walked this way, the cobblestones familiar beneath my feet, and yet they felt different—charged with nostalgia and longing within my untouched and hungry body.

As I rounded the corner, right next to Corios old cottage we'd spend our late nights in, I could hardly believe my eyes. There stood Coriolanus, leaning against the gate of his old cottage building, a half-smile gracing his lips as he pulled something from his rusted mailbox.

He hadn't changed much; his tousled light hair glimmered in the fading light, and those sharp blue eyes still had the ability to hold my attention completely. I caught my own breath, and reached for the trim of my dress to keep me steady.

"it's been ages," I said, approaching him cautiously.

"Y/n?" he said walked right over to me, quickly finding a place to place the mail so that he could pull me into a hug. We were childhood friends before all else anyways.

His long arms wrapped around my waist, his chin rested onto my shoulder, my hair filling his scent, he was just as warm as I could remember. I took a deep breath as he slowly pulled away from me, slyly letting his hands stay longer than what should've been deemed welcome.

"It's been long, Corio." I said looking at him with all my desire lingering.

"Too long," he replied, his voice was deep and inviting. After smiling at one another for a while longer, he offers. "You should come up for a cup of tea—catch up. My balcony's the best place to reminisce." his voice was teetering on a stutter.

Yet there was something magnetic about his invitation. Temptation tugged at me, a whisper in my head that said, "What's the worst that could happen?" knowing that this was probably going to end up somewhere it hasn't in years, but somewhere its wanted to.

I nodded, and he stepped aside, holding the gate open with a sweet smile on his face.

As we climbed the stairs throughout his old place, the building exhaled memories—laughter, love, and especially heartaches. It was hard to believe that just a few years ago, Coriolanus and I had been entangled in an unspoken flame that flickered only in stolen moments in the hot nights and heated touches. A situation that neither of us knew how to define, yet it clung to my heart like a tattoo on my skin, like a catchy rhythm I couldn't get out of my head, something I couldn't erase.

Then finally, we reached his balcony, the fields sprawled out before us, a canvas of life painted with twinkling lights and the distant sound of bugs and wind. The cool evening air was refreshing, blowing my hair every which way, keeping his eyes glued on me.

Coriolanus gestured for me to sit, the same two chairs we sit and chat in for hours were there, and the table I had said my last goodbye to him over. As he disappeared into his cottage or a moment, and I took in the view, letting my heart race with the excitement and the chance of rekindling an old flame that I wasn't ready to yet let go of.

Finally, He returned with two steaming mugs, the aroma of chamomile wafting towards me. My favorite. "Thought you might enjoy this," he said, handing me a cup. Our fingers brushing against each other for a fleeting moment, and an electric jolt surged through me as I held tightly to the warm mug.

He settled into his chair, his eyes filled with thought, and his body not resting like mine had been.

Slowly settling into easy conversation, reminiscing about the past—the adventure, the late-night talks on this very balcony, the secret smiles exchanged in crowded rooms. Laughter pinged around us, and it felt like no time had passed at all.

And beneath the surface, there was a weight we could neither ignore nor address. As the tea cooled in our mugs, the talk turned toward that exact weight. Corio has started to ask me about my life, and I shrugged, attempting to downplay the emptiness that had crept in over the last year without him.

"Have you been seeing anyone?" he asked, his tone casual but laced with curiosity. I wanted to lie, I didn't want him to know. Know that he was still the only one.

I hesitated, unsure of how to navigate how to lie to him, if I could lie to him. Ultimatly realizing I couldn't. "Not really. Haven't been... looking, I guess."

Coriolanus raised an eyebrow, a nearly teasing smirk tugging at his lips. "looking? That sounds like a mild way to say you're living like a nun."

I couldn't help but chuckle, but beneath the laughter lay a sting of truth. "More like a hermit, really. It's been over a year since... well, you know."

His expression shifted, curiosity sparking in his eyes. "Over a year? Really?" he leaned forward in his chair, keeping his curious eyes on me.

"Surprised?," I replied, a rush of vulnerability coursing through me. "Sometimes it just... happens, you know?" I avoided his eyes, I couldn't let him know he was the reason. "Just not for me recently."

"I know," he added, standing and leaning forward on the railing, his gaze even more intense on me. "So, what's stopping you? You know, from... changing that?"

A blush crept to my cheeks at the implication. The warmth of his presence enveloped me, and I felt a familiar longing rising within. "Life is complicated, Coriolanus. It's not as easy as just flipping a switch." I uttered before standing closer to him. Both of us facing one another now. My heart still racing as fast as it did like when we were dumb kids.

He leaned closer, his eyes going from my eyes to my lips, the distance between us shrinking. "No, it's not. why flip a switch you know?" His eyes danced with mischief and the same longing I saw in my own eyes every time Id Envision him with me. "I could... help you with that, you know." He said, mere inches from my face.

My breath hitched at his words. "Help me with what?" I said, even though I know exactly what he's saying.

"Fixing your little... situation," he replied, his voice dropping to a low, sultry whisper in my ear. "If that's what you really want, y/n?"

I smiled, softly feelings his fingers dance with mine. "Why flip a switch, right?" I say.

Caught in that heated moment, I couldn't suppress the thrill that surged through me. There was something intoxicating about his proposition. As if sensing the crackle of tension in the air, Coriolanus closed the gap between us, his face so close I could feel his breath. "What do you say, huh? Like old times?" he said pushing a piece of hair behind my ear, his breath brushed against my lips, sending sweet shivers down my spine.

There was a spark, a magnetic pull that rendered me unable to resist. I leaned in, our mouths crashing together in a deep kiss—one that tasted of my favorite tea and the years lost between us. It was all-consuming; the doubts around us faded until it was just me, him, and the feelings that never left.

His hands cradled my face gentle, deepening the kiss as I melted under his touch. I felt a hunger ignite, and I instinctively pressed my body against his, reveling in the feel of his warmth and strength. The kiss transformed from soft exploration to violent grabbing—our lips bruising, his large hands grabbing me tightly in dangerous territory, as we rediscovered each other.

"Are you sure?" Coriolanus murmured breathlessly, pulling away just enough to meet my gaze, searching for my consent.

My heart raced in response, caught in a whirlwind of emotions. "Yes," I whispered, a softness threading through my voice. That single word came out as a promise—a reckless abandon into our past, and that spark of youthful chaos I had thought we lost.

With newfound quickness, he pushed me against the railing. his scent filled around me, an endless mindset of possibilities filled my mind as he pressed me firmly against the iron bars. My heart thudded as his mouth crashed into mine again, more insistent this time. It was primal—a collision of need and desire that threatened to engulf us both.

His hands roamed my body as I lost myself in the rhythm of our intensity, one hand helping support what the railing couldn't, and he other lingering over my sensitive areas, his warm hands slowly going from my knee all the way up my thigh, his lips detaching so he could watch me twitch.

With one deft motion, he spun us around, His sudden stop of touch making me whine, but making up for it by pinning me against the balcony wall. The cool surface of the brick pressed against my back contrasted with the heat radiating from his body. Desperation coursed through me as his hands pulled my thigh up around his lower waist, opening my enterence up to tease me.

"let me have you right now" he breathed against my ear, finding the delicate skin below it with his lips, igniting a trail of fire across my neck.

"Here? Right now?" I gasped, my breath hitching again, the rush of adrenaline making everything feel intoxicating,

He pulled back slightly, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Why not? The night is ours—and frankly, I don't think either one of us can wait much longer."

With a flourish, he turned me around, pinning me hands on the wall, a sharp gasp leaving my mouth as I felt his erection press into my backside. I felt his warm hands again, this time pulling up the back of my dress slowly. I need him now.

"Stop teasing me. I want it now." I said eagerly.

"whatever you say y/n" He began to pull down my panties, gripping onto my waist. feeling the contours of my body, tracing the curve of my waist, sending little shocks of pleasure coursing through me. With a deft hand, he began to undo the buttons of his pants, his lost touch igniting every nerve.

I bit my lip, waiting for the largeness I remembered. "Ready for me baby?" he said kissing down my back, keeping me still. "Please." I pleaded still pinned to the bricked wall.

"Whatever you say." He said kissing my back one last time. Slowly he began to wet his fingers, slowly teasing my sensitive area, then one by one adding a finger. Each one making me moan and hold onto the wall however I could. A quick laugh escaping his lips as he began to move them in and out.

His touch now was nearly to much, I couldn't began to explain my excitement for his length. But I know he could sense it. "All prepared for me now." he said leaning against me, kissing my neck. I felt his erection tease my enterence.

as he kissed his way back to his position, I felt him push his tip slowly into me. I couldn't help but squirm in need. "Please, do it already." I exclaimed, before he quickly pushed himself into me. A sharp gasp left my lips, my hand immediately reaching for his. As he rested inside me for a minute, his breath in my ear, he pulled out with a sharp gasp from his mouth.

He put my hand back on the wall, moving my hair off my back to make room for more kisses as he pushed in and out of me, his hands remaining tangled in my locks as he moved at the pace he remembered I liked.

"God I've missed you." He said, breathe shaky, still pounding with harsh passion into me. "You have no idea." a deep moan escaped my lips, the sensation of him stretching me igniting pleasure that shot through my needy body. He pulled back only to thrust even deeper, each movement deliberate, each thrust drawing me closer to the edge.

"Tell me how it feels," he urged, his voice a velvet whisper that curled around my senses. "Let me hear you."

I gasped, the rhythm increasing, each thrust drawing me further in. "It feels even better then I remembered," I managed to breath out, pushing back against him, every fiber of my being craving him more and more.

"mhm," he replied, the dominance in his tone sending waves of heat through me. "You're so good for me"

In that moment, I felt his hands tighten around you, anchoring me to him as the intensity built. There was something primal in the way he moved, something so raw that it sent my thoughts spiraling, leaving nothing but the need to surrender entirely.

"Just like that—don't hold back," he commanded, his voice deep and demanding, urging you me embrace the wildness of my passion. I felt the pressure building, a tight coil of pleasure winding in my core, urging me to release.

As he reached that exquisite spot within me, waves of pleasure began to ripple through my body, stronger with each thrust. The world around me faded entirely as the sensation overtook me, electric shocks of bliss dancing along my spine.

I gasped, the past between us roaring to a fever pitch. With a final thrust, everything ignited within me, the intense waves crashing over me in an overwhelming rush. I was limp on the wall. still breathing heavy as he finished out his high. Feeling more sensitive then ever before.

Coriolanus's voice reached me, dark and familiar, wrapping around my senses. "I've never missed anything more" he urged, pushing me to the brink of something I couldn't control. And as the tide of it all consumed me, I surrendered to the bliss, to the acknowledgement that I stilled loved him. That he was all I was ever going to want.

word count (2.4k)

#coriolanus fluff #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus smut #coriolanus fanfiction #peeta mellark x reader fluff #the hunger games #president snow x reader #president snow x reader smut #mdni

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anonymousewrites · 5 months ago

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Apple of My Eye Chapter Twenty-Three

Harry Hook x Child of Snow White! Reader

Chapter Twenty-Three: Once Upon a Dream

Summary: Harry and (Y/N) get to have a quiet moment together.

(Y/N) opened the door of Apple Cottage after they heard the knock and smiled. “Alright, are you ready—” They paused and blinked in surprise.

Harry stood before them with a bouquet of red, yellow, and blue flowers. He shifted almost nervously and held it out. “For you, Highness.”

“Oh.” (Y/N) smiled, and their cheeks warmed. “Thank you, Harry.” They took the flowers. “They’re beautiful, but you didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to,” said Harry. “Ya deserve ‘em.” He stepped closer to (Y/N). “Ya deserve everythin’, Highness.”

(Y/N) stared at Harry, and suddenly, their tongue tied up, and they laughed nervously. “That’s—Wow, that’s a good statement.”

“Left ya speechless, did I?” said Harry, grinning. He lifted a hand and brushed hair out of (Y/N)’s face. He winked. “Good. Gotta make sure my charm is still there.”

(Y/N) chuckled, and Harry was once again struck by what a beautiful sound it was. He watched them turn away and fill a vase with water for the flowers.

“There,” said (Y/N), arranging the flowers and smiling back at him. “Now Apple Cottage is a little more homey.” They faced him fully. “Now, are you ready to learn to dance for a ball?”

“’Course,” said Harry. “I’m a quick study.”

“You better prove yourself, then,” said (Y/N), smiling. They stepped to him. “First step, you put your hand on my waist.” They took his hand and lifted it to their waist.

Harry’s hand held them firmly, and he relaxed as he felt the warmth of their skin even though their shirt. Gently, he guided them closer, and (Y/N) gazed into his eyes as he leaned in slightly.

“I think I got that down, Highness,” said Harry, smirking. “What next?”

“You take my hand,” said (Y/N), lifting it.

Harry took it and raised it to his lips, kissing the back. He winked. “And now?”

(Y/N)’s cheeks had to be a burning fire. They were used to his flirtatious nature, but this felt oddly sincere. Would they actually get a proper moment, finally? (They were both aiming for a confession, but, hey, how was the other supposed to know?)

“Now, we dance,” said (Y/N), refusing to be too flustered. They raised their hand and put it on his shoulder, sliding it up over him slightly.

Harry’s own body temperature raised at how close they were. He really liked it.

(Y/N) hummed softly and gently began to sway. As Harry moved in tandem with them—it felt so natural to dance with them, so perfectly in sync—(Y/N) added a soft, easy waltz spin. Harry’s fencing abilities took over, and his coordination let him pick up the dance easily. In a moment, he was the one guiding them in an easy, beautiful dance across the cottage floor. While (Y/N) continued to hum to give them a melody, Harry joined, his voice creating a perfect harmony with theirs.

(Y/N) “I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream.”

They couldn’t help it as the song came alive in their heart. It was too easy to let their heart pour itself out to Harry.

(Harry) “I know you, That look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam.”

(Y/N)’s heart fluttered with emotion when with Harry, but it was not alone. Harry was equally overcome with love for (Y/N).

(Y/N) “And I know it’s true that visions are seldom all they seem.” (Harry) “But if I know you, I know what you’ll do.”

As they danced across the cottage floor, they barely had to take their eyes off of one another. They knew when the other was going to move and how, their hearts in sync with the music, their feelings, and their dance. It was as if they had always been meant to dance together—it was so natural.

(Y/N) “You’ll love me at once, The way you did once upon a dream.”

(Y/N) hummed and rested their cheek against Harry’s shoulder as he swayed them. He stared at them adoringly as he turned them.

(Y/N) “Ah, ah, ah, Ah, ah, ah, mm, But if I know you, I’ll know what you’ll do.”

Harry’s hand was firm on their waist as they danced, and as (Y/N) raised their gaze to meet his from his shoulder, Harry smiled, a true, honest smile, not just a smirk.

(Harry) “You’ll love me at once, The way you did once upon a dream.”

(Y/N) smiled in return, and Harry stepped back. Moving in and out to the music, they stepped closer and farther before Harry raised a hand and spun (Y/N).

(Harry and (Y/N)) “I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream.”

(Y/N) completed the spin, and their back was to Harry. Leaning back, he caught them and swayed them from behind.

(Harry and (Y/N)) “I know you, That gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam.”

Harry spun (Y/N) back out, and this time they leaned into a dip. They trusted Harry completely, and he easily supported them, grinning at them with his hands safely under their waist.

(Harry and (Y/N)) “And I know it’s true that visions are seldom all they seem.”

Harry leaned them back up, and (Y/N)’s hands slid up to go around his neck.

(Harry and (Y/N)) “But if I know you, I’ll know what you do.”

Harry’s hands secured themselves, and he lifted (Y/N) up. They let out a laugh of surprise and supported themself on his shoulders as he spun them.

(Harry and (Y/N)) “You’ll love me at once, The way you did once upon a dream.”

As their song trailed off, Harry put (Y/N) back on the ground. His hands remained on their waist, and (Y/N)’s hands rested on his shoulders.

They gazed at one another, and, slowly, their eyes drifted to one another’s lips.

(Y/N) let out a breath and attempted to speak. “You didn’t need dancing lessons.”

“I did,” said Harry. “But everything is perfect with you.”

“You’re just…a quick study,” said (Y/N), smiling.

“No,” said Harry. His hands pulled them ever-so-slightly closer. “You’re the perfect partner.”

(Y/N)’s heart fluttered. “Really?”

“Perfect for me,” said Harry. His gaze raised to meet their eyes once more. “Always perfect for me.”

(Y/N)’s breath caught. “You’re perfect for me. Harry, I—”

“(Y/N), I—”

They both stumbled over their words, looked at one another, and laughed breathlessly.

“Go ahead,” said (Y/N).

“I told ya someone wanted to take ya to the ball,” said Harry. His thumb smoothed over their waist, and (Y/N) smiled.

“Yes?” they said.

“I’d like to take ya to the ball,” said Harry.

“It was such a mystery,” said (Y/N), smiling.

Harry pinched them lightly, and (Y/N) laughed. Harry smiled at the sound.

“Would ya go with me?” said Harry.

(Y/N)’s heart could have burst into fireworks. “I would love to, Harry.”

Harry grinned. “I love that you’re saying yes, Highness.” His words struck him, and he cleared his throat. “In fact, Highness…I wanted to tell you—”

“Yes?” said (Y/N), excitedly.

The door of Apple Cottage burst open, and (Y/N) had never had such murderous thoughts cross their mind as they and Harry jumped apart.

“(Y/N)!” said Jay, his face alarmed.

Harry grit his teeth. “Jay, we have been getting’ along, but what could possibly be the matter?” He had been so close to confessing, Jay was testing his self-control.

“It’s Nazarin,” said Jay. He looked at (Y/N). “She transformed into a frog at lunch.”

Harry and (Y/N) both stared at Jay before looking at one another. The curses were growing more elaborate, and another victim had been claimed.

“What happened?” said (Y/N) as they entered the infirmary with Harry.

“It was lunchtime, so everyone was in the cafeteria, and then there were screams,” said Lizzie, grimacing.

“When everyone looked over, Nazarin was a frog,” said Fleur. “Her friends were freaking out.”

“Did anyone see anything strange?” said Ben, crossing his arms.

Herod shook his head. “No.”

“Fleur and I were even sitting with Thea and Farley since fairy kids try to have lunch once a week, but neither of them seemed to cast any spells,” said Jane. “Fleur is still keeping an eye on them.”

“So our suspects aren’t even acting suspicious, and things are still getting worse,” said Mal, grimacing.

“At this rate, before the ball, we’re not going to figure out who it is,” said Carlos.

“And the spells are growing worse. Turning into a frog is associated with True Love,” said Evie.

“Fairy Godmother assured us this still isn’t a True Love’s Curse,” said Ben. “It’s a transformation spell, a complicated one, but still not a True Love’s Curse.”

“Then Nazarin is lucky,” said (Y/N), letting out a sigh of relief. No one deserved a True Love’s Curse.

“And I’ve been working with my mom to break the other curses. We’re getting close to reversing the transformation-halting spell on Eris,” said Jane.

“That’s some good news,” said Mal.

“But we need a proper plan,” said Uma. She crossed her arms. “I think we have to set a trap.”

“You mean use the ball like we considered?” said Mal.

“No,” said Ben. “I’m not going to put people at risk of being cursed.”

“I’m willing to do it,” said Lizzie. “I signed up to help VKs and Auradon Kids, and the worse that can happen to me with a curse is growing super tall or shrinking super small.” She smiled. “I can handle that.”

“I’m willing to still go to the ball,” said (Y/N). “We have to do something, Ben.”

Instantly, Harry’s—and everyone else’s—eyes snapped to (Y/N). Their mother’s story could prove dangerous if a curse was placed on them.

“We did say it has to happen,” said Mal. She took Ben’s hand. “And if we get everyone into one place, we can trap the culprit from leaving.”

“Mal and I can ensure that spells are in place to sense when someone tries to use magic,” said Uma.

“The moment anyone tries to cast a spell, we’ll be able to stop them?” said Ben. Mal nodded. Ben considered. “Alright. We keep the ball, and we’ll make our arrangements. If anyone doesn’t feel comfortable going, we’ll institute a curfew.”

“I can put up some spells to alert us if people go anywhere they shouldn’t during the Ball.” Jane smiled. “My mom’s magic and mine is good with that.”

“Alright,” said Ben. “Then we have our plan.”

“We’ll catch the culprit before they can hurt anyone else,” said (Y/N) firmly. “We’ll protect everyone.”

Harry looked at (Y/N). But who will protect you?

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doormatty3 · 6 months ago

Text

Surface-Dweller Traditions: Christmas (Orm Marius x Reader)

Masterlist Ao3

Ocean Eyes Masterlink

Summary

[Orm Marius x Female Reader] [Orm Marius x You] Life with Orm is always a mix of discovery and contrast—his Atlantean heritage often colliding with your everyday human traditions. From decorating trees and trying festive foods to marvelling at fireworks or enduring bustling crowds, Orm’s reserved demeanour softens as he experiences the joy and warmth of human traditions with you. OR: A series of unrelated one-shots and mini-fics about the many types of festivities Orm and you share.

Wordcount: 3,693

A/N: Merry Christmas y'all! My present for you: Some more of Orm x Marine Biologist Reader, with Orm being overwhelmed with human traditions and slowly learning This will be.. a few OS of traditions and festivities our favourite Atlantean can experience for the first time (feel free to request some lol) Also, this chapter is just pure fluff

Orm Marius, former King of Atlantis, lingered in the doorway of your cosy seaside cottage, framed by the quiet beauty of the snow-laden night. The moonlight glinted off his silvery blonde hair and sharp features, lending him an otherworldly presence that never failed to take your breath away.

Yet, tonight, there was a vulnerability to him that you rarely saw. He stood stiffly, his piercing blue eyes scanning the room, taking in the string lights that draped the walls, the flickering candles on the mantle, and the Christmas tree glowing softly in the corner, its branches adorned with ornaments and garlands in various stages of assembly. His expression was one of wary curiosity—as if he were stepping into enemy territory.

You set down the ornament you were holding and turned to greet him with a smile. “You’re just in time to help me finish decorating,” you said, brushing your hands on your jeans. “How was your walk?”

Orm stepped inside, his heavy boots creaking against the wooden floor, and closed the door behind him. “Cold,” he said bluntly, shaking a few snowflakes from his sweater as he took off his shoes and changed into some cosy slippers you gave him some time ago. He paused, his gaze flickering to the tree. “This… Christmas,” he began, his voice low and deliberate as the tide, “it seems an odd ritual. Are you certain it is not a form of surface-world combat?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “No battles, I promise,” you said, walking over to him and cupping his cheek, his stubble rough against your palm. “Christmas is a celebration. It’s about family, love, and spending time with the people who matter most.”

His gaze softened slightly, though his brows remained furrowed, your hand seemingly grounding him in the moment. “It seems impractical to centre an entire season around something so intangible,” he said, gesturing toward the decorations with a regal wave of his hand. “In Atlantis, our celebrations honour duty and tradition. They have purpose.”

You brushed your thumb over his sharp cheekbone before reaching down and grabbing his hand, your fingers threading through his. Almost instinctively, Orm’s hand closed around yours, his large palm dwarfing yours and engulfing it completely. A gesture he had done countless times since you entered a relationship. “This has a purpose, too,” you said gently. “It’s about creating memories. About finding joy in the little things.”

“Joy,” Orm echoed, his voice tinged with scepticism. He looked at you as if you were trying to explain some elusive, surface-world concept that defied his understanding. “Joy seems fleeting.��Impermanent.”

“Maybe it is,” you admitted, “but that doesn’t make it any less important. And,” you added with a teasing smile, “you’re here now. So…help me decorate. This isn’t just my tradition anymore. It’s ours. If you want it to be.”

His expression shifted, a glimmer of something unspoken flickering in his eyes. “Ours,” he repeated softly, as if tasting the word and gently squeezing your hand. Then, with a small incline of his head, he added, “Very well. Show me what must be done.”

You led him to the table where the remaining ornaments were laid out, each one carrying its own little story. Orm’s curiosity was evident as he picked up a delicate glass starfish, turning it over in his hands with reverence. “This is artful,” he said. “Did you create it?”

“No, I found it at a marine biology conference years ago,” you explained. “But now it reminds me of you.”

“Of me?” Orm raised a sceptical brow, turning it over in his hands, his long digits tracing the ornaments’ delicate contours. “A starfish? Do I resemble one?”

“Not literally,” you said, laughing. “But they’re resilient. They survive even when the odds are against them. They regenerate. They’re strong, just like you.”

A flicker of something unreadable crossed his face—surprise, perhaps, or something deeper. Without a word, he stepped toward the tree and carefully placed the ornament on one of the lower branches, adjusting it until it hung just right.

“Is that satisfactory?” he asked, turning to you with a faint smirk.

“Perfect,” you said, beaming, stepping back to admire his work. “You’re a natural.”

“Hardly,” he replied, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

As the evening wore on, Orm began to relax, his initial awkwardness giving way to a quiet curiosity. He strung garlands with military precision, muttering about the string getting stuck on the branches, and listened intently as you explained the stories behind each ornament.

“This one,” you said, holding up a small wooden lighthouse, “was carved by my grandfather. He used to say it was a reminder to always find your way home.”

Orm’s expression softened. “A wise sentiment.”

“And this one,” you continued, picking up a tiny dolphin figurine, “was a gift from my mentor after my first successful research dive. I was so nervous, but she told me I had the heart of the sea in me.”

“You do,” Orm said quietly. His words caught you off guard, and you turned to find him watching you, his gaze steady, unguarded and loving.

A faint blush rose to your cheeks. “Thanks,” you murmured, setting the ornament on the tree.

When the tree was nearly complete, you reached for the final touch—the star for the top. Standing on your toes, you tried to stretch high enough to place it, but the branch was just out of reach.

You let out a small huff of frustration. “I might need a chair for this,” you muttered.

“Nonsense,” Orm said, stepping behind you. Before you could protest, his hands settled firmly on your waist. “Allow me.”

His touch was steady, his palms broad and warm even through the fabric of your sweater, the strength in his arms and shoulders evident as he held you aloft. In one smooth motion, he lifted you as though you weighed nothing at all.

You felt the strength in his grip, the muscles in his forearms and shoulders flexing with effortless control. He held you securely, his body solid and grounding beneath you. Yet, there was also a gentleness in the way he supported you, as though he were cradling something precious.

“You didn’t have to—” you began, your voice faltering slightly as you placed the star at the top of the tree, “I could have just gotten a chair.”

“It is my duty,” he said, his voice low but resolute. “If this is to be our tradition, then it must be done properly…and also, why deprive me of the opportunity to touch my girlfriend.”

Blushing, you adjusted the star until it sat perfectly straight. “How’s that?”

“Perfect,” he murmured. His hands lingered on your waist as he slowly set you back down, his touch gentler now. For a moment, you stood there, caught in the warmth of his presence, the faint scent of salt and the sea clinging to him like a memory.

“Thank you,” you said softly, your eyes meeting his.

“It was nothing,” he replied, but there was a flicker of something in his expression—a quiet pride, perhaps, or just the love he felt for you.

Later that evening, the two of you sat down for dinner at the small table by the window. The scent of roasted vegetables, honey glaze, and perfectly grilled fish filled the cosy room.

You had prepared the meal with Orm in mind, knowing of his love for seafood and also reminiscent of how much he missed Atlantis.

Each detail of the setting had been carefully chosen—a small vase of winter flowers at the centre of the table, soft candlelight reflecting on the frosty windowpanes. It was intimate and warm, a sharp contrast to the cold depths Orm once ruled.

“What is this dish called?” Orm asked, his sharp blue eyes scanning his plate with the careful scrutiny of a tactician surveying a battlefield. In the glow of the Christmas tree behind him, his angular features seemed to soften further.

The mild, shifting lights illuminated his hair, and his eyes, bright and blue as a sunlit sea, caught and reflected the warmth of the room. At that moment, he looked both regal and human, a mesmerising contradiction.

“It’s roasted squash and potatoes with a honey glaze,” you explained, pointing to each component, “and grilled fish—caught fresh this morning. I thought you’d appreciate the seafood.”

Orm’s lips curved into a genuine smile, one that lit up his usually serious face and softened the sharp lines of his features. It was a smile he seemed to save just for you, and every time you saw it, your heart swelled.

“You know me well, my love,” he said, his voice warm and steady.

You couldn’t help but smile back, your chest filling with a deep, unshakable affection for the man sitting across from you. In moments like this, you were reminded of just how much you loved him—his strength, his vulnerability, and the quiet, unwavering care he showed you in everything he did.

You tried not to stare as he took his first bite, but your gaze betrayed you. His expression remained inscrutable as he chewed slowly, analysing the flavours as if they might reveal some hidden truth about surface dwellers. Finally, he nodded, placing his fork down with a quiet clink. “It is… satisfactory .”

For a moment, you blinked at him, unsure if he was joking or genuinely serious. Then, laughter bubbled up and spilled out of you, filling the small dining room. “Satisfactory?” you repeated incredulously, trying to keep a straight face. “That’s all you’ve got?”

Orm’s brow lifted in that familiar way, a regal expression that might have been intimidating if it weren’t for the faint curve of his lips. The subtle smile softened his otherwise sharp features, giving him an almost boyish charm. “In Atlantis,” he began in his ever-composed tone, “satisfactory is high praise. It signifies balance—neither excessive nor insufficient. It implies…” He paused, his blue eyes sparkling with quiet amusement, “…perfection.”

You folded your arms and leaned back in your chair, shaking your head with a grin. “Oh, perfection, huh? Well, forgive me for misunderstanding, Your Highness,” you teased. “But next time, I’ll save myself the effort and just grab a greasy burger and fries. You probably wouldn’t notice the difference.”

Grinning, you pointed your fork at him, a mock warning in your tone. “And if you keep being this critical, I might not even bother seasoning it!”

Orm’s eyes widened slightly, and he laughed. It was low and rich, a sound that seemed to rumble up from deep within his chest, warming the room like sunlight breaking through clouds. Raising his hands in mock surrender, he leaned back slightly in his chair, his smile broadening into something more relaxed, more loving.

“Peace, my love,” he said, his voice tinged with gentle humour. “I yield to your culinary expertise. I was merely joking. Your cooking is wonderful, as always.”

The sincerity in his gaze made your heart skip a beat. For all his wit and formality, Orm had a way of softening when he was with you, his smiles and compliments carrying an intimacy that only you were privileged to witness.

“You’re forgiven,” you said, still grinning, though your heart felt full to bursting. “But only because I love you.”

Orm leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he regarded you with that piercing gaze that always made you feel as if you were the only person in the world. “I am most fortunate, then,” he replied, his tone low and intimate.

As the meal continued, the two of you fell into easy conversation. Orm began to share stories of Atlantean celebrations—vivid depictions of grand processions that wound through the glowing coral cities, ceremonies steeped in tradition, and bioluminescent displays that transformed the deep into a kaleidoscope of living light.

“There is a particular festival,” he said, his tone tinged with pride. “The Feast of Tides. It is held to honour the shifting currents that guide us and the sea creatures that sustain our people. The city pulses with song, and even the waters seem to dance.”

Your mind drifted back to the time Orm had taken you to Atlantis—a moment early in your relationship. The vibrant, surreal beauty of the city beneath the waves had been overwhelming: spires of coral that shimmered with an inner light, creatures that glowed in the darkened depths, and the hauntingly beautiful songs that seemed to resonate through the water itself. You had never felt more like an outsider, and yet, Orm’s steady presence at your side had made you feel protected. Made you feel like you belonged.

“It sounds incredible,” you said, leaning forward, captivated by the vivid picture he painted. “It reminds me of when you showed me Atlantis for the first time. Everything was so alive. It felt like stepping into another world.”

Orm’s gaze softened, a flicker of pride and something deeper crossing his features. “You adapted quickly for someone who had never felt the pressure of the deep nor seen the creatures beneath the waves.”

You smiled, a little embarrassed but warmed by his praise. “It helped that I had the former king of Atlantis guiding me.”

His lips twitched before breaking into a smile again, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “A king who now decorates trees and eats roasted squash,” he said dryly, though his tone held no bitterness—only a quiet, soft acceptance of how much his life had changed. “The currents have carried us to strange places.”

“They have,” you agreed. “But they’ve carried us together. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing great with all the surface-world traditions. Even if you think they’re odd.”

Orm’s expression shifted as his gaze turned thoughtful. “Perhaps. If the currents align, and the surface is kind, there may be more of these… traditions to learn.” His words were wistful, carrying the weight of someone trying to balance two worlds, yet willing to try for you—willing to continue trying for you.

After dinner, the two of you decided to take a walk along the beach behind your cottage. The snow that had lightly dusted the sand earlier was now mostly melted, leaving patches of dampness that sparkled faintly under the silvery moonlight.

You pulled your coat tighter around yourself, glancing over at Orm as the two of you walked along the beach behind your house.

His long coat swayed with his movements, and his posture remained as regal as ever, though there was an ease to his stride that you didn’t often see. He had refused a hat, of course, claiming it unnecessary despite the cold.

The ocean stretched out in its eternal rhythm, its waves gently lapping against the shore in whispers. Each crest caught the moonlight, creating an otherworldly glow that illuminated the vast, dark, endless expanse of water. The air was crisp, carrying the faint briny tang of salt, and the stars above were like scattered diamonds on a velvet canvas.

Orm’s eyes were drawn to the horizon, his expression contemplative as he walked beside you.

The moonlight caught his features, accentuating the chiselled planes of his face and the sheen of his hair that glistened in an almost ethereal silver, the strands shimmering like liquid light. His blue eyes, so striking in daylight, seemed to hold the entire ocean’s depth in their gaze, glowing faintly as if lit from within.

There was a serenity to his expression, but his gaze held an intensity that always set your heart fluttering.

He glanced down at you as you walked, the faintest smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’ve grown quiet,” he remarked, his deep voice cutting through the gentle sound of the waves.

You turned your face toward him, smiling softly. “I was just thinking about how beautiful this is,” you said, gesturing to the sea and sky around you. “And how lucky I am to be sharing it with you.”

His expression softened, and he reached out, taking your hand in his. His grip was firm but warm, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a way that sent a pleasant shiver up your spine. “It is beautiful,” he agreed, his tone quieter now, almost reverent. “But the surface world’s beauty is fleeting. It does not endure as the depths do.”

“Maybe that’s why it’s so special,” you countered. “Because it doesn’t last forever. You have to cherish it while it’s here.”

He stopped walking, turning to face you fully.

The moonlight framed him like a painting, casting a silver halo around his tall, imposing figure. His gaze searched yours, as if looking for something he had yet to name. Snowflakes clung to his lashes, and for a moment, he looked as though he belonged more to this world than the one beneath the waves.

“You are... unlike anyone I have ever known,” he said quietly. “You see the world with such hope. Such... resilience. It is both confounding and admirable.”

You smiled, your heart swelling at his words. “And you,” you said, stepping closer, “are far more than the former king who once waged war on the surface. You care deeply, even if you don’t always show it. You’re strong, yes, but you’re also kind.”

For a moment, the only sound was the whisper of the waves and the distant cry of a gull. Orm’s gaze softened, and he raised a hand to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. His touch was featherlight, yet it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Sometimes, I wonder if I deserve you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his words, and you reached up to cup his face, your thumb brushing gently along his cheekbone. “Orm,” you said, your voice firm but filled with affection, “you deserve every bit of happiness and peace. You’ve fought for so long, carried so much. Let yourself have this. Let yourself have us.”

His lips parted as if to say something, but he hesitated, the vulnerability in his expression making your chest ache. Instead of speaking, he stepped closer to you, his hand cupping your cheek. The moonlight reflected in his eyes, turning them into shimmering pools of silver and blue.

“You remind me of the tides,” he said after a moment, his voice low. “Ever-changing, unpredictable. Yet constant in your pull. I can never seem to escape you... nor do I wish to.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you leaned into his touch, your hand resting lightly against his chest. Beneath your palm, you could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat, strong and unyielding. His warmth seeped through the fabric of his shirt, grounding you in the moment.

“You don’t have to escape,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the waves. “You’re exactly where you’re meant to be.”

Orm’s expression softened further, a smile gracing his lips—small but genuine. “Here,” he murmured, his fingers tilting your chin up, “with you.”

He leaned down, his movements unhurried, as though savouring the anticipation of the kiss. When his lips met yours, it was with the practised intimacy of lovers who had kissed a thousand times before, yet each time felt new.

His mouth was warm against yours, his kiss deep and deliberate, as if he were trying to pour all the unspoken things he struggled to express into that single moment. His hand slid to the small of your back, pulling you closer, and you melted into him, your fingers tangling in the silken strands of his hair.

The sound of the waves and the cool night air faded into the background, leaving only the heat of his embrace and the steady rhythm of his breath against your cheek.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and his breath mingled with yours in the cold air. Snowflakes continued to fall around you, landing on his lashes and catching in his hair like tiny, fleeting jewels.

“You make me forget everything else,” he said quietly, his voice rough with emotion. “The weight of my past, the conflict of my worlds—it all fades when I’m with you.”

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice filled with emotion.

His lips curved into a soft smile, his blue eyes shining with a rare vulnerability. “And I love you,” he said, his voice steady and sure. “More than I ever thought myself capable of.”

The look he gave you then was one of pure devotion, his blue eyes gleaming like the ocean at sunrise. He nodded slightly, as though sealing some silent vow, before pulling you into another kiss—this one softer, filled with the kind of quiet reverence that made your heartache in the best way.

“Let’s walk a little further,” you said, taking his hand.

Orm allowed you to guide him, his fingers intertwining with yours as the two of you continued along the snowy shoreline. The quiet was companionable now, filled with the unspoken bond you shared.

As you reached a cluster of rocks near the edge of the beach, you paused, turning to look back at your cottage. The warm glow of the lights spilling from the windows, the soft twinkle of the Christmas tree visible even from here—it was the picture of home.

Orm’s gaze followed yours, and his expression grew thoughtful. “This world,” he said softly, “is not without its beauty. I see now why you cherish it so deeply.”

“And now it’s your world, too,” you said, squeezing his hand. “Our world.”

He turned back to you, his smile returning. “Our world,” he agreed, his voice filled with a quiet reverence.

You laughed softly, a sudden thought striking you. “Merry Christmas, Orm,” you said, your tone light but full of affection.

He looked at you for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly as though testing the words. Then, his smile widened, and he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead. “Merry Christmas, my love.”

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