#desiree610

[jacesbeloved]

amidst the waves: part II

summary: born a lowborn, your family a group of fishermen that supply the market; one day, it wasn’t a fish caught but rather, a young man.

pairing: lucerys velaryon x fem!reader

part: I, II, III

taglist: @ephemeralninon @aliceuris @desiree610

"Are we there yet?"

It's been half an hour since you two left, and Luke has been struggling ever since. Groaning each step of the way, the two of you had to make multiple stops for him to not collapse.

"We're almost there," You reply tiredly, taking the bag of fish from him to let him breathe. "You shouldn't have come with me, gods." You sigh when you see him without the hood of his coat, wiping his sweat from his forehead, the brunette curls on his head seeping out from the bandage around his head.

"I'm quite sorry, but you were the one that told me to come. I was already acquainted with Arrel and Alaine," Luke rebuts, still polite in his tone. You look away apologetically, remembering that he did almost die in the sea, and now you made him walk with you to the market. Well, to be frank, it was your parents that told you to bring him.

Luke nods at you, taking back the bag you held and carrying it before you two go back to walking. The rest of the walk was silent with just a few small chats from Luke, asking you more about your family as you asked him the same.

Turns out, Luke still didn't remember anything. Not even his family members or his full name. He only knows himself as Luke.

You decide not to push him much on remembering about himself, seeing him also grow irritated at the loss of his own memories, at the fact that he can't even answer your questions.

You eventually arrived at the familiar crowded market, various people chattering and bargaining with one another. The foul smell of the raw meat hanging from hooks invades both of your noses. There wasn't anything new for you; however, your companion seemed new to the smell. You found him quite adorable, chuckling a bit at him pinching his nose while he wandered his gaze around the market with a fascinated expression.

"You haven't been to a market?" The man stared at you blankly. You were confused for a moment before remembering that he had just said he couldn't remember anything but the moments before and after his fall. "Sorry, don't answer that."

Luke chuckles lightly at you. "It's okay, my lady. I may have been to a market, but the memory is not quite vivid."

The way he called you 'my lady' with such a polite and upright tone made you break out in a small smile, looking away from the man. "He must be a highborn," you thought.

"Y/N's fine," You correct him and he nods, your name sounding better coming from his voice and tone, but you'd rather not dwell on it. He is, after all, just a stranger that needs help.

"Follow me." You pulled him by his arm, the man struggling to follow you as he squeezed himself between people, the big bag he carried causing him to occasionally bump into them, halting for a moment to actually apologize genuinely, the folks looking at him weirdly.

"Just ignore them. They likely won't care if you bump into them unless you make them drop something," you explained after the two of you stopped for him to apologize to a random person.

"But that wouldn't be mannerly.." he said.

"You're in a market full of peasants, Luke. Manners are the last thing you'll find here." Luke nods slowly, although weary since he's not used to the environment.

Upon arriving at a familiar cart, barrels containing various different meats on the outside of the cart, flies swarming the hung pig's leg, you notice Luke tapping his feet anxiously. His hood was off, his eyes turning to you and locking with yours before you turned back to the merchant behind the cart.

"Grahar."

"Y/N! My favorite fishies!" The chubby old man gleams at the sight of you, arms welcoming as you nod at Luke to give him the bag. He looks at you before handing it to Grahar. He looks at Luke weirdly before smiling like he usually does, happily taking the bag of fish and other sea creatures.

"The usual eh? You and your family always give me best quality! I put some extra here!" You chuckle at his thick accent, telling him "thank you" as he handed you a bag of coins, though before it could reach your wrist, he beckons you closer.

Your brows raised in surprise, glancing at Luke, who glared at Grahar before you leaned forward.

"Is he partner? You know," the man whispers at you, his fingers doing something not-so appropriate while he looks at your reaction. The sudden speculation made you shriek loudly.

"Seven hells, no, Grahar! He's just a friend!" You exclaimed loudly, Luke looking at the two of you weirdly, not catching up on the context as Grahar's laugh thundered loudly.

You playfully glared at the older merchant before taking the bag of coins, Luke staring down Grahar before following you out of the market.

"Ahh... At times like this, it makes me feel like a princess in the kingdom. Having endless coins to splurge on," you sigh contentedly, Luke peeking inside of the bag at the same time as you do.

"That's... a lot!" Luke marveled at the sight of the metal shining in the bright sun. "I never knew you wanted to be a princess," he adds, pushing back his hood.

"I don't. I never said I did, dimwit." You replied, picking up one silver stag and handing it to Luke. He looked at you confusedly, eyebrows arched as he glanced at the coin, then at you.

You urged him to take it. "Go on. It's yours."

"Thank you..." He says quietly, lips stretching into a warm smile.

"You're welcome. You're now one silver stag richer than 60% of the city." You make a lighthearted remark to him, and he laughs.

His fingers carefully picked up the coin from your hand, inspecting the small piece of metal as his eyes ran over the image of King Jaehaerys and a dragon on either side of the coin.

Luke's head started to hurt. His eyes started to blur while the back of his head started to ache in painful patterns.

Your eyes widen in concern, assisting Luke when he clutches his head upon stumbling a bit. You gripped his arm while leading him into an empty alleyway. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

His chest gradually started heaving up and down. You started to become nervous about what was happening, so you pulled his hood down, cradling the back of his head with your arm. It wasn't bleeding, which is good. The blood on the bandage has already dried.

Luke's hands started to shake as well, the coin in his hand dropping as he stayed silent. While his body jerked and you tried to calm him down, you yourself were also scared.

You took the coin from the ground and held it in between his hands, enclosing his with yours. It took him a long minute to stop convulsing, almost having your own heart attack out of nervousness.

"I'm fine- yes, I'm okay..." He stammers quietly as his body starts to calm down as well, no longer shaking. You finally get to sigh out of relief, dropping to sit on the ground.

Luke stares at his hands, "Did Y/N just... hold my hands..." His cheeks started to burn up at the thought of it, licking his chapped lips and looking elsewhere.

"What happened to you?"

"I... don't know. I think I-"

"What are you two doing there?" The two of you turn to the armored man at the end of the alleyway. You jumped to your feet, arms behind your back, and began to make an excuse, but the armored man was standing beside you. He looked at Luke.

"He hit his head." You reply with a shaky voice.

Luke looks away, pulling the hood of his coat on while the guard moves, his heavy armor clanging. You thought he would ask more questions or even inspect the both of you, but he leaves. Not a word from him.

You snapped to glare at Luke, the man playing with the coin in his hand. "Goodness, I shouldn't have brought you with me," you sigh upon standing. You dusted off your bottoms and held Luke's arm as he stood up with you, placing the small coin in his pocket.

"I think we need to head back home."

It's been more than four days since you first met Luke. Ever since that headache situation, he's never experienced it again. Or at least, as you thought. The first night, your parents already made him a small tent beside your family's hut, just enough for him to sleep in since he spends the day in the hut.

On his second day, Luke asked you to teach him how to fish. Finding it both boring and disrespectful to stay with your family and not help out. So you did. And he eventually got the hang of it, fishing with your father, sometimes with Arrel and Aliane and sometimes with you.

He no longer had a bandage around his head after the third day. He was already recovering well. Your father bought him his own clothes from a cheap merchant in the market, treating Luke as his "worker" as the man helped around the hut with fishing and bringing the family's gains to the market.

"There's one behind you, gods, Luke spear it!" You yell at him from the shore, the curly-haired man looking for fish in the waters that reached his calves.After some time, he sees it and swiftly impales it with the wooden spear he had.

Luke smiled widely at that, a sense of fulfillment coming over him as he takes the fish from the water and walks over to you.

"It was literally beside you, it took you so long to kill it," you scoff, Luke handing you the fish while you place it atop the clean wood, expertly descaling and cutting it.

"I believe I did fairly well for one that fishes at night," Luke counters, sitting on a small bench beside the bonfire with your siblings. You raised your eyebrow, glaring at him, making him laugh.

When you finished prepping the fish, you placed them in some clay plates that your parents extravagantly bought using the gold coins that the guards gave you. Your siblings and Luke mumbled their thanks as they started to eat. The four of you engage in random conversations about how the day went, with Luke asking about fishing stories every now and then.

"Clean up. Alaine, get some water for the fire. Arrel, bring the plates inside..." You started to list out while your siblings quickly scattered. You turned to Luke, the man looking at you expectantly. "What about me?"

"I don't know, help me with tidying up." You stood up, starting to arrange the littered sticks and leaves around the pit, and Luke did the same. The fire hissed as Luke poured the bucket of water Alaine bought, high-fiving your younger sister after.

Your brow furrowed, promptly feeling something wet hit your side. You slowly turned your head only to see Luke grinning at you with the leftover water from the bucket. He clearly didn't use it all to put out the fire.

He backs away cautiously when you start walking over to him after complaining, running away when he saw you running to the waters to fill a cup with water. You chased him around the shore, splashing the man with water whenever you got close. But Luke ran fast, really fast. And sadly, most of the water you threw in his direction fell to the sand.

When your cup ran out of water, it was his turn to run after you.

"Luke, Luke- No! You dimwit-" You struggled as it took no effort for Luke to reach you, pouring the water over your head as you yelled at him. Luke cackles at your reaction, your frail hands wrapped around his wrist as you try to stop him from emptying the bucket over your head. You hated it, of course, but it did make you laugh. Your complaint was a mix of yelling and laughing.

His laugh slowly dies down when he notices your hand wrapped around his again. "A shower, maybe?" Luke says, your hands withdrawing from his to arrange your hair.

You kick him in the leg, making him groan. "You are truly... a pain in my arse."

When you rolled your eyes, Luke simply chuckled again. He took off the thin coat he wore before giving it to you. "You can go inside, I'll finish up here." He says with a sly smirk, holding your shoulders and pushing you back to the front of the house.

"Do you know just how close I am to hitting you?"

"I don't. How uneducated of me," Luke retorts sarcastically, and you glare at him, standing by the door as he awaits you to go back inside. He started to pick up the small pieces of rubbish around the area, cleaning off the wooden stools and counter.

You yawned lowly, adjusting his coat around your shoulders before deciding to go back, wanting to dry your hair and help your siblings to bed.

"Good night then, Y/N!" Luke speaks as you head inside, standing by the open window to see him. You wave back, a small scoff leaving your mouth.

"Good night as well, Luke."

hearts, reactions, replies, and reblogs are very appreciated if you liked the story! <3 ^w^

[gamerbearmira]

@desiree610 has an AU where Bruno is an android that his creators deemed a failure and kept locked away because he became self-aware. Thought it was interesting :)

FINALLY SOMEONE KNOWS D H I’VE HAD AN AU FOR SO LONG AND NO ONE TO SHARE lemme know if y’all wanna see that <33 👹👹 but like. I think??? That’s really cool. Like let’s be sooooo Fr he’s not even a failure. Bro turns into a deviant and I’m here for it <333 self-awareness Bruno\Madrigals for da win 😨

I need to rewatch the gameplay for that 🗣

[ghiacciowife]

@desiree610 has some really nice mer squadra tail designs

hm, i'm definitely going to take some inspiration then. thanks for letting me know!

[headoverjojo]

Hi. I wasn't sure if your still doing any request. But I was hoping to get something with Ghiaccio. His crush askes him out on a date to the carnival. He's nervous at first because he wasn't expecting this to actually happen. But they both have a really good time. Going on rides, playing games, even seeing Ghiaccio win a cute prize for his crush. 💙❄

Desiree, hello! :3 And sure thing! What a tender scenario, thank you for the prompt :,) And here we gooo! I hope you’ll like it :3

Ghiaccio and his crush’s first date at the carnival

(Under the cut for length!)

Melone tilted his head, looking at Ghiaccio with critical eyes for long moments, before nodding in approval. One last fix at the light blue shirt’s collar, and he was finally satisfied with his work. Ignoring Ghiaccio’s frown and grumblings, he dragged him in front of a mirror, with a satisfied smile. Ghiaccio grumbled again, at his limit, but he had to admit that Melone had done a good job… he was finally ready, for real, for his date! At least in appearance…

“C’mon, it will be fine. We’ve talked about it, right? It’s normal to be nervous, and maybe the first minutes will be… awkward, but you’ll eventually relax and everything will be smoother. Just be yourself, alright? And don’t you dare to start with the “but I am a shit” discourse, hm?- he said, anticipating Ghiaccio’s words, -if they have accepted to go out with you, it means that they like you as you are. Maybe… try to control a bit your temper, but do not change yourself. They like the you you already are.” Melone said, while still dancing around him to fix the smallest details. It was the first date his friend had in ages; he wanted everything to be perfect!

“Oh! And do not forget the flowers. Now go, or you’ll be late!” Melone pushed him out of the HQ, still giving advices and wishing him good luck. Ghiaccio sighed, when silence finally fell, as he walked to his destination: your house. He stopped a little at a flower shop to buy a nice bouquet of your favourite flowers, and then marched to your place, determined to make you live the best evening of your life. He will have tried his best!

He rang your bell door, swallowing, nervous. What if you had changed your mind? What if it was all… a prank? What if he was just making himself ridiculous? Would you have thought bad of him? Made fun of him? His mind was still racing wildly when you came to open the door, with a big and relieved smile on your face. Yes, you were the one who asked him out, and yes, he accepted, but still… you feared he would have changed his mind last minute. But seeing him at your doorsteps, so gorgeous in his casual but fitting outfit, an adorable pout that was slowly melting into a more relaxed expression, with a beautiful bouquet in his hands finally tamed all your fears. Now it was time for fun!

“For you.” he grumbled, handing you the flowers, looking anywhere but at you while, you noticed with a silent gasp, a light blush creeped on his cheeks. You smiled, softened, taking gently the flowers, brushing his hands with the tips of your fingers. The blush on his cheeks became redder, but you didn’t notice it, as you were busy sniffing the flowers, happy. Your favourite…

“Thank you so much… I put them in a vase and I’ll be here in a second, ok? Don’t run!” you said, daring to wink at him, vanishing inside your house again. Ghiaccio slowly let out his breath, now that your beautiful eyes weren’t on him. Oh god, it would have been more complicated than what he had thought…

Your arrival saved him again from more panicked thoughts. You smiled at him again, and his heart raced; how could he feel so… so good, so happy just seeing you smile? Was it even possible?

He tried to relax, like Melone had suggested him. He wanted everything to be fine… so, he tried to chat a little, feeling relieved when you answered with a smile. It was going well, it seemed… you seemed to enjoy the time you were spending together. You even laughed a couple of times… it was making him feel good and comfortable. He was finally starting to loosen up, to your immense joy. It was incredibly warming to see him with a relaxed expression… he even seemed younger!

When you arrived at the carnival, your ultimate destination, you felt him tense again. He didn’t like crowds… you searched for his hand, and held it tight, when you found it. He turned to you, surprised and again red on his cheeks, and you just smiled at him, even if a blush was spreading on your face too.

“We’ll not get separated, in this way.” you simply said, finally entering with him in a world made of fun, lights, food and joyous screams. Ghiaccio swallowed, clinging at your hand, but, the more he wandered around without being attacked or bothered, the more he started to relax, and he went back to chit chat with you, without letting go of your hand, to your joy.

When you saw him relaxed enough, you proposed him to try some of the rides, and you beamed in joy and surprise when, after the first roller coaster ride, you saw him laugh for real, as tension seemed to finally leave his body. There was nothing better to release all the tension than a good adrenaline rush! You never saw him so… so normal. Like a young man who was, for once, enjoying a good and funny evening with… his crush. You hid a smile, when you remembered that you were out on a date and not as friends…

“Oh, oh, Ghiaccio, look! The clay pigeon shooting! They always have such cute prizes…” you sighed, with a smile, looking at the little stand where a lively little man was calling and inciting the crowd to try to win “wonderful, incredible, fantastic prizes!”. Ghiaccio turned to you, looking at you for long seconds, before turning again to the stand.

“What prize do you want?” he asked, quiet. You blinked, surprised, and turned at him. Was he serious?

“C’mon, G/N. What prize do you like the most?” he asked again, looking at you with a small pout. You gulped down the surprise, looking again at the prizes neatly exposed. The ones you always liked always required a great shooting accuracy…

“The white cat. I like that.” you finally said, with a sigh. No way you would have ever won it, not even in a century…

“Good. Let’s go, then.” he pulled you to the stand, already studying the timing of the small targets. Nothing difficult… at least, not for him. He was a hitman, after all and, even if he wasn’t a sniper, he was required to be a good shooter. He was sure he could do it!

“One try, please.” you looked at the small gun the man handed to Ghiaccio, while cheerfully inciting him. Ghiaccio looked at you again, and a small smile bent his lips, making you blush again. Was he really going to do it for you…?

“You’ll have your white cat.” he promised, with a small nod, before pointing at the moving targets and shooting. One, two, four, six: with a lethal precision, all the blank bullets hit the targets. A small bell madly rang, loud and cheerful, and the man handed him the deserved prize, with a big smile and screamed congratulations. Ghiaccio grumbled a thanks, picking up the giant plushie, and, when the two of you were a little far from the chaos, he looked at you, blushing again. Oh, this was awkward…

“Err… for you.” he murmured, handing you the plushie. You huffed a laugh, hugging the enormous and soft plushie, with a happy sigh. You still couldn’t believe it… you looked at him, with a smile, and got on your tiptoes, giving him a peck on the cheek. When you drew back, he was blushing again like crazy, and your cheeks too felt warmer than usual.

“Thank you, Ghiaccio, for the plushie… and this incredible evening. I loved it.” you said, suddenly shy. Was it too much…? You wanted so much to invite him again, to have another date with him, but… would have it been too daring to ask him so…?

“I… I had fun too. Maybe we… we could do it again, if you want to…?” you gasped, incredulous. Oh… you dared to look at him, and your heart melted when he saw his cute pout, his red cheeks and the way he was trying to keep it cool. How dared he to be so adorable…!

“Yes… I’d love it.” you murmured, with a sweet smile mirrored in his face a moment later. As your first date slowly sided over, you couldn’t help but to smile and giggle in total bliss.

That first date had been a real success, and you couldn’t wait to go on a date again with him.

[abbacchiosbelt]

Ghiaccio for a Valentine's Day Message 💙💙💙

[demonzeppeli]

I made this just for you because I love the design of your Jjba Oc. I hope you like it.

-

Thank you so much 🥺❤

[ask-missmascarpone]

You and Bruno are so cute together. Are you two ever gonna have some babies? You both would make great parents. [~Ombra🖤]

“That’s a little bold, isn’t it?”

“Ahaha! In any case, if we were ever to marry - or get together for that matter - I don’t think children would be out of the question completely. Bruno’s got quite the knack for adopting though, I’m sure he’d be a wonderful father. I, on the other hand....”

[cagelessraven]

💙Ghiaccio and Ombra, in an autumn themed setting💙

Ombra belongs to @desiree610

[jojosfluffyadventure]

Um Fluffy cuddles hcs with all members of La Squadra? Please? :3

Cuddles are coming!

Risotto:

- Ris is a full body cuddler. With his gigantic size, it’s hard for him not to be.

- Either you have 6′7 of pure mafioso wrapped around you from the side, or you’re laying on top of his chest as if he were the most toned mattress in all of Italy.

- He’s much more down to earth than he is on the job. It isn’t often he gets to enjoy such relaxation.

Prosciutto:

- Prosciutto isn’t really a cuddler. It’s something he needs to warm up to first.

- Start slow with him, beginning with hand holding, and then an arms around shoulders, and then, you can ask him if he wants to cuddle.

- He’s an unusually cold bodied man, so you won’t get too hot while cuddling, even in the summer.

- Once he’s comfortable enough, he may ask you for a kiss :)

Pesci:

- Having someone who would even want to cuddle with him and love him for who he is makes him feel so warm inside and happy, no matter when or where you want to cuddle he’ll oblige.

- Pesci is a giant teddy bear boy when he has someone to hold. He has extraordinary hugging arms.

- His cuddles are rarely still, he’ll almost always be finding more ways to express his affection while you do. Threading his fingers between yours, kissing your cheek, nuzzling you.

Formaggio:

- Formaggio, as it’s been said before, loves to play with size, even if it’s just for cuddling. He’ll shrink himself to get a fuller hug from you, or shrink you to hold you more.

- He likes to have you laying on top of him, your foreheads touching. That makes kissing easy, not even needing to move much.

- Cuddling for him is the best when you can relax together and even end up taking a nap.

Ghiaccio:

- The trick to cuddling with Ghiaccio is to get him to calm down for long enough first.

- He’s actually pretty flustered about it!

- His favourite position to cuddle in is on your sides, to have you curled up against his chest, himself curled up a little around you in a protective position.

Melone:

- Nasty melon man. He will be suggestive the entire time. But he won’t actually do anything if you don’t want to.

- Even so, he’ll be very indulgent in pillow talk, maybe even some light groping.

- He likes to be as close as humanly possible while cuddling. Legs intertwined, arms around each other’s backs, faces practically touching. He’s a slim, lithe man, so it’s easy to hold him like that.

Illuso:

- Illuso will take you into his mirror world to cuddle with you in complete privacy. He doesn’t want to be pulled away by business.

- He’ll sit with you on a couch with his arm around your shoulders, pulled gently against his side, sharing all the gossip he’s discovered through mirror spying.

- He’ll let you play with his hair if you ask first. It’s hard to resist those silky bunches.

[jacesbeloved]

amidst the waves: part III

summary: born a lowborn, your family a group of fishermen that supply the market; one day, it wasn’t a fish caught but rather, a young man.

pairing: lucerys velaryon x fem!reader

notes: hi !! sorry for taking so long to update amidst the waves but here it is :3 this is the last part but other chapter/s may be posted depending on what i am motivated to write lol i hope u guys love it!!

part: I, II, III

taglist: @ephemeralninon @aliceuris @desiree610 @call1op3 @vainillasmil157 @countsmoon @r1dd1kulus @ietss

"Are you two mad?!" You spoke loudly, your father hissing at your tone.

You glared at the two of them in frustration, having been asked by your family to come with them to the market even though it's rare that the three of you go there. It's usually either one of you.

Now, they had taken you away from your hut, deep into the city, as they sat you down in a random alleyway with no one around, telling you the recent decision that they had made without informing you nor even telling you the slightest bit.

"We don't know who Luke actually is, Y/N. He is a stranger to us. We have to give him back."

"You placed a roof over his head, building him his own little tent, and you dare say he's a stranger? Why, because he's worth some gold?" You snapped back at your father.

The two of them sighed, rubbing their temples as they looked away, wary of any bystanders hearing your outburst given that the three of you are in the market.

They take a step closer, and you take a step back. Firmly glaring at them while having your arms crossed on your chest.

"Luke has stayed with us for more than three weeks already. He helps with fishing, with cooking, with everything! What else do you want from him-"

"To go back to where he came from, Y/N," your father cuts you off. "We know you've grown fond of him, Y/N, but he's not from here. He has a family looking for him, it's bad enough that we didn't inform our lord about a random boy washing up on the shore, what more if we hide him from them?"

You groaned. "What if those people aren't nice, that's why he ran away from them?"

"The ones that would take him are the men from the city watch. If we don't give him to them, what do you think they will do to us? We hardly even have anything to defend ourselves." They reasoned it out once more, and it left you silent. You knew that no matter how much you fought them, they'd still do as they pleased, with or without your approval.

And it was scarier, eventually waking up and seeing the tent beside your hut empty. Alaine and Arrel not having their sister's older friend help them sharpen wooden spears or you being left alone after supper's finished—it all frightened you.

You weren't entirely fond of the man from the sea, you just didn't want him away. You wanted him always by your side—his silly, curly hair, goofy smile, and kind attitude towards everyone. All of the things you didn't have.

Instead of fighting them further, you ignored them. Your mother and father looked at you worriedly when they saw you walk away from the alley. Your father tried to follow after you, only to be pulled back by your mother, who was subtly shaking her head as you slowly disappeared from their line of vision.

The busy crowd kept your mind at bay. You walked around the city for as long as you had desired, walking past various houses and markets, admiring the beauty of the simple pleasures around you, wondering how much more fun it would've been if Luke was with you.

You walk by some small merchants with small brooches on their makeshift boxes, ready to be bought by whoever had the means to, thinking of your friend back on the shore. You pull out a few coins from your pouch, picking out a brooch from the merchant as they express their gratitude.

When you pick one out, you put the coin on this laid out palm. You held the item close to your face, inspecting it closely as you stared at the way the bronze was crafted to illustrate a fish in a complete circle. You sighed briefly at this.

"Should he fancy accessories, I think this is the perfect one."

By the time you got back home, the waters were serenely silent, with only the sounds of the waves lightly crashing into the rocks.

You stared for a long moment at the closed hut, the doors and windows were shut, telling you that they'd already shut you out. There weren't even any lights coming from inside, only meaning that they're already past asleep, leaving you outside, in the sand, all alone.

Or, so you thought.

"They were looking for you," the awfully familiar voice spoke, approaching you carefully as he squinted, making sure it was you.

You turned sharply, looking at him with wide eyes, before your stare slowly softened and you turned back to the sea. Your shoulders relaxed a bit when you felt him stand beside you, also staring at the sea, though with a confused look on his face.

He glanced over at you, eyebrows furrowed after you ignored his statement. "They- they already closed the hut, your father said you ran away."

A scoff leaves your lips: "Were you worried?" You ask.

"Was I worried? Of course I was. No one was able to cook the fish until your parents showed up. Me and your siblings almost tried to start a fire ourselves," he replies, making you chuckle. Luke smiled a bit at that, finding the sound of your chuckles pleasant.

"No, but truly... I was really worried about you. I almost went to the market myself." Luke smiles at you, and you can see the evident worry in his eyes.

You shrugged in response, heaving a deep sigh.

"Why are you awake at this hour? It's deathly late." You spoke, changing the topic while fixing your skirt. You sat down on the sand, and Luke did the same, quickly sitting beside you.

He pulled up his knees to his chest, touching the sand softly as he replied. "Hmm, I, uhh..." You hummed, waiting for him as you watched the sea.

"I had... visions," you hear him take a deep breath. "Of my memories... couldn’t really sleep through it.”

You stiffen up at his reply, feeling as if your breath had been caught in your throat. You didn't even know yet if his memories were real or if they were just bits and bits of flashes.

"It's nothing much, really, it was- it's-" he started to stammer, your forehead creasing at his nervousness.

"Were they bad memories?" You asked, and he immediately shook his head no, quite defensive as he started to explain once more about his visions.

He toyed with the string of his thin shirt, picking up one of the shells beside him. "They were really... violent. I honestly don't remember much from this exact memory, but.. it was all chaotic. Me, a boy, and two other girls were fighting another boy. It was somewhere dark, somewhere rocky, I-I don't-"

You placed a hand over his knee, prompting him to stop before he even got to start rambling. The two of you stared at each other in silence, Luke's lips hanging open and his eyebrows furrowed.

"I'm sorry you had to relive those unpleasant memories, Luke." You pursed your lips, and Luke placed his hand on top of yours, placing it on top of yours warmly.

In silence, the two of you remained peaceful. Not a single word was spoken or uttered. But you felt something different; you felt something missing in this silent night. Slowly, you leaned your head to rest on his shoulder, making Luke tense only to relax a few seconds later.

"They weren't all bad memories, Y/N," Luke says.

He began to tell stories of his visions, what he saw, what he remembers, and what he knew about himself as of now. You hardly even knew that he got remnants of his memories when he slept. He never talked to you about it.

"I am the prince, Y/N. I am Prince Lucerys Velaryon. The missing son of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen." He says with such meaning that your jaw drops.

He actually remembered everything after the first week he stayed with you. From his childhood to his teenage years, the moment he got to say his first word in High Valyrian, his flights with his dragon, Arrax, his first fight with his older brother, his youngest brother being birthed, his mother's kisses on his cheeks,

his betrothal.

Your throat went dry at his mention. He seemed to be baffled as well when he told you that he was an engaged prince.

Of course, he would be. It was easier to believe than the fact that he is a prince. Luke's handsome; he's caring, respectful, smart, everything. Everyone could easily fall for a man like Luke.

It hurt you a bit, yes, but with everything, you can only be happy that he actually has someone waiting for him home. Someone that was probably devastated by his disappearance. And yet, you still dreaded seeing him not around.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Luke asks, his tone ever so caring, as it always has been. You hummed in response.

"I can't believe you're a prince. Prince Lucerys Velaryon... And you didn't even tell me," you changed the subject, closing your eyes while Luke looked at you weirdly, probably weirded out after you mentioned his real name.

"Don't I seem like a prince?"

"You try housing a man that your parents brought home almost dead, who allegedly rode a dragon before he fell into the ocean and now is allegedly a prince. What do you think?" Luke laughed at that, his body rumbling with laughter as you did, giggling softly at your statement.

He sighs at that. "Well, I apologize then. You and your family have done so much for me that I could not keep track anymore. I believe a mere 'thank you' would not be enough."

You pulled your head away from his shoulder, turning your body to face him. He was surprised by that, quickly moving his body to face you as well. The way he always tried to do things the same as you made you stifle a laugh.

Looking down, you sucked at your teeth for a moment, internally debating, before you reached for your pouch beside you.

He looks at you curiously, watching you twist to your right while searching for an unknown item. Soon enough, you present him with the brooch from earlier.

His eyes widen with faint astonishment, and his mouth hangs wide. He raised his eyebrow at you before glancing back at the brooch on your hand. You jerked your palm at him, urging him to take it, and he carefully does so.

Luke carefully inspected the round shape of the brooch, the sides of his lips raising a bit when he recognized the unique image it had been melded to.

"I wish to be with you, Luke. Not romantically, no, I- I'm yet to be ready, and also with your betroth-"

"I understand you, Y/N, and I... wish to be with you as well," he cuts you off with a whisper. "Always."

You gulped when you heard him say it. Your heart is starting to beat faster and faster with each passing second. Luke felt the same, his heart thumping, threatening to jump out of his chest.

"But there are greater things... than- than I care to consider. And for that, I must... I must head back. Be with them." His eyes flicker away in the other directions upon saying the last bit.

Confusion suddenly washed over you, Luke was not clear on what he was saying. Not until you pieced it all. "You- you're the one that asked them to give you back to the city watch?" You glare at him furiously, your tone full of accusation.

"Y/N," he starts, but you have already stood up. "Why didn't you tell me it first?" You roared, pointing at yourself.

Luke stands as well, putting his hands in front of himself in an attempt to calm you down. "Let me explain first, don't-"

"I fought with my mother and father because I did not want them to give you away to the city watch! I yelled at them because I did not want you to feel that we all wanted to get rid of you in the first place, because we didn't. I didn't!" You yelled at him.

Your conscience ate you up right after. The hurt look on his face breaks your heart more than him telling you he's already engaged.

You turned away from him, walking away, only to hear the sands swooshing around, following you. You breathed in heavily, calming yourself down before you let yourself speak anymore. Luke seemed to have figured that out, waiting for you to face him in silence.

With the scent of the sea breeze filling your nostrils, the wind whistling, you cleared your head. Turning back to face him with a blank look.

"I wish you well, Prince Lucerys. If it is your desire to be with your family, then may you travel safely to them."

"What?" Luke replies, now with a shocked tone. "Y/N, you don't have to talk so formally like that. Please, you don't have to call me Lucerys. I'm still Luke!"

"Your Luke." His voice now above a whisper.

He watched as your eye and lips twitched, your gaze hardening instead of softening. You picked at your fingers from behind you, tearing and pinching the skin off.

"It's late. I am sure the city watch will take you early morrow. Better get some sleep. Maybe it would help you remember more." You ignore him, clenching your jaw. You glared at him once more before walking away from him.

You don’t even know where you slept that night, nor did you even bother thinking if Luke followed you away from your home.

When the sun rose from the east, you knew you were done for that day. You knew that the next day, there would only be you, Alaine, and Arrel left. No more older brother for the two, no more fishing companion, no more playful banter during supper.

He had already departed, or so you watched him depart.

Luke gave each of your siblings a warm hug and kiss on the forehead, smiling tightly as both of their eyes brimmed with tears, not wanting to see the man they've grown to like leave.

When he arrived by your mother, she hugged him tightly, rocking him side by side with a proud smile on his face before he passed Luke on to your father. He laughs when he watches your father bend his knee in an awful try at a curtsy, Luke bringing him up to hug him instead.

You watched them exchange various replies while you waited from behind the cluster of horses and men waiting for the prince.

Luke eventually nodded at them, his eyes searching for you all around, hoping to at least apologize and bid you farewell once and for all. His face lights up when he sees the familiar stature of yours behind the men. The men moved out of his way with haste, curious to see who he had been looking at.

"Y/N," he breathes.

"My prince."

He tongues at his cheek before nodding. He takes a soft hold of your hand, bringing it to his lips as he presses a soft and respectful kiss on the back of your palm. You forced a smile on your face upon seeing the brooch you had given him on his now leather-clad chest.

"Thank you, Y/N, for everything. All of the things you taught me in my stay here are some of the things that I will always keep in my head; and in my heart, know that... you will always be in there." Luke says, and you finally break out of your forced face, launching forward to give him a hug.

You felt his arms wrap around you as well, caught off-guard by your hug while you breathed in his scent, he smelled of the sea now. "Your wife would be there, as well." You whispered before you pulled away, the people around were all looking at you two weirdly.

Luke smiled at you tenderly, tapping the brooch by his heart as if you had not yet seen it. You nod at him, inhaling sharply.

"Farewell, Luke."

"Farewell, my lady."

that’s a wrap! i hope you loooved the story!! thank you all so much for reading up until here <3 remember: hearts, reactions, replies, and reblogs are very appreciated if you liked the story! ily all!

[dongiovannaswife]

Confession: I need more Ghiaccio content. I can't get enough Ghiaccio content because it gives me life. 😍

Your ice husband! 😳💞 that's sweet, hopefully we'll get more slowly but surely 👀💞

[staruplatinum]

This isn't a request. I just love your profile pic. 😁😁

Thank you so much! I always see you liking/reblogging my stuff and it means a lot to me! 🖤 if there’s ever anything you want you are always welcome to request it.

[headoverjojo]

Hey Tricia! I hope you have the time to take in this request. If so thank you so much. 😊😊 Headcanons of each La Squadra member had a pregnant s/o and after years them thinking they were dead they come back to their s/o seeing them with a young boy/girl that's their child.

Ehiiiiiii, hello!! :3 Oooooooh, this request 💖 I mayyyyy, well, have a bit exhaggerated… but!! I hope you’ll like it :3

La Squadra di Esecuzione coming back to their s/o and their children after years spent thought they were dead

(Under the cut for length!)

Risotto Nero

The last thing Risotto wanted was to leave his pregnant s/o alone. But by now things were too out of control and he couldn’t do anything but go on and finishing what he had started: killing the Boss. He promised her he would have been back for sure, for her, for their still unborn child. He kissed her lips and cheeks, more times, before pressing a kiss on her prominent belly, promising to the baby too that their dad would have been back soon. Risotto didn’t come back.

His s/o never got any news about him. Not a phone call, not a word… nothing. It was like he was just vanished in thin air. She knew about his mission and that it was almost surely a suicidal one; with a broken heart, she thought he was dead. And what could she think? He was nowhere to be found. She gave birth to their daughter alone, promising to keep her far from mafia, from what teared the love of her life away from her and their baby.

What she didn’t know was that Risotto was alive. Barely, but definitely alive. He needed many months to heal and even more to start to properly function again. He was so angry at himself, at his own failure… and his thoughts were always on his s/o and their baby. He tried to call her, but maybe she had changed phone number, since she never answered and the phone just ringed and ringed. He wanted to search for her, for their baby, to know if they were fine… and, finally, he could do it. Even if with more scars than before, he was on his own feet, he could walk and use his stand again… he could go back to his love.

And he found her, in the end. Asking around to some old trustworthy informer, he could find where his s/o now lived with… with their daughter. His heart missed a beat when he was informed he had a daughter. Their baby, their little girl… he had to see them, as soon as possible. And so he found himself in front of their front door, feeling weirdly agitated. Not even in a life or death situation his heart galloped so fast. He knocked a couple of times, he could hear, from inside, the noise of pots put on the stove and -his eyes got misty, hearing it- his s/o’s voice that was asking to someone to go to see who was at the door. His heart sank a bit: maybe… maybe she was living with another man? Well, he had been far for years and surely declared dead… but it wasn’t a man the one who came to open the door. It was a little girl, more or less four years old, with bright, oh, so bright crimson eyes.

The little girl stayed silent for some seconds, watching intensely the man in front of her, his red eyes, just like hers. He was rightly as her mother always described him. “Dad?” she called, still staring at him. Risotto could only nod and slowly kneel in front of his child, without breaking their eye contact. When he was at the right height, his daughter smiled at him -and she had his s/o’s smile, oh, that bright smile really was hers- and hugged him tightly, saying with a happy voice that she knew he would have come back, one day.

Not hearing the door closing, his s/o came to see what was happening and what she had in her hands fell on the ground, as she stared, incredulous and shocked, at her Risotto, alive, as he was hugging tightly their daughter. Their eyes met for a second; his own were glossy. And finally she ran towards him, enveloping him in a crushing embrace, loudly sobbing and rubbing her face on his shoulder, as their daughter was nestling in her father’s embrace. Risotto couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe to be finally with his love, with their daughter, to can hug and hold them, to can talk again… he was finally at home.

Prosciutto

Prosciutto was confident, while he was kissing one last time his s/o, smiling at her: how could she doubt about his come back? Of course he would have come back. He had never failed a mission and this was nothing different from any other: their enemies were just some kids that his Grateful Dead would have annihilate in seconds. He would have been back for dinner, he reassured her, kissing again her lips and giving a lovingly caress to her belly, huffing a small laugh when his baby gently kicked back. Then, he was out. His s/o, even if he had reassured her, couldn’t restrain the feeling that something would have gone terribly bad, that time. And she was right.

Prosciutto didn’t come back, that evening, for dinner. Neither the following one and the one after. She tried to convince herself that he was just blocked somewhere, that he would have come back or at least called her as soon as possible… but, as weeks, months passed, as she was now holding their just born baby son, the awareness that her Prosciutto was dead slowly sank in her. Facts told this, that he was dead as all his team, but she couldn’t accept it. She didn’t want to accept it. He was alive, somewhere, it must be so. She felt it in her heart. But… now she had to take care of their baby son, his legacy. She couldn’t help but softly smile, when she saw how their baby was similar to his dad, from his blonde hair to the adorable nose that she loved to gently kiss, giggling when he wrinkled it and babblered. For now, she could just wait, keeping their son safe… and hope.

Her instinct was right: Prosciutto was alive. He was miraculously found when he was grasping at life with just one finger and he was in a long, long coma. His wounds were severe, his conditions over desperate: he had lost too much blood, for months he never gave even a small sign of recovery, no one actually knew who he was, since he hadn’t documents with him and he seemed just not to exist… until, one day, rightly the day that coincided with his son’s second birthday, he woke up. He needed time, a lot of time to recover, both mentally and physically. He wasn’t the man he remembered: during the fight with Bucciarati, he lost his right eye and left leg. He was… broken. A broken man. He wanted to sink and never emerge again, but a thought made its way in his devastated mind: his s/o. His love, his most precious treasure, and their still unborn baby. He… he had made her a promise. He had to go back to her.

Prosciutto didn’t even realize how many time was passed until he finally saw a calendar. If he had not been seated on his wheelchair, he would have fallen: three years… three years were passed. His love had been alone for so much time… and she was alone with their baby too. His heart sank at the thought of her forced to take care of their child alone. It wasn’t fair, he… it was his fault. And now he had to find them and make amend for all the time he lost far from them.

It hadn’t been difficult to find them. She hadn’t changed her surname and she still lived in their old flat. He approached the so known door, with his heart in his throat. What if… what if she was angry at him? What if she hated him? And what if she had, in the meantime, found a new man, what if she now had a new life…? Was he just going to ruin it? He swallowed down a heavy lump, ringing the bell. He had to wait just few seconds, before the door opened: his s/o -beautiful, wonderful as he remembered- stood on the front steps, watching him, suddenly deadly silent. He saw her bottom lip starting to quiver and he tried to speak, to apologize, to say hi, to say something, but his vision blurred too and, before he could say something, she threw her arms on his neck to hug him tightly, sobbing and loudly crying on his shoulder. Prosciutto could just hug her back with her same strength, hiding his face in her hair that always smelled so good, keeping her in his lap, relishing in her sweet caresses and kisses on his cheeks, crying when she said that she knew, she always knew that he was alive, somewhere, that she felt it in her heart…

A little after, light footsteps slid in their sobs and sniffs. A baby boy, blonde and sleepy, was trotting to them, rubbing his eyes and calling his mom. Seeing the man in a wheelchair, the boy stopped on his track, looking at him with curiosity. His mother smiled again, a watery, happy smile, encouraging him to come to meet his dad, who finally was back, as she always had promised. The child didn’t lose even a second: thanks to his mother’s stories, he was grown fond to his dad, even if he never met him before. He was on his lap in seconds and Prosciutto was hugging him, laughing and crying and murmuring how much he loved him, how much he loved them both and how much he missed them, while holding them and lightly lulling them both. Finally, he kissed her one last time, gently stroking her cheek and smiling at her. “I came back in time for dinner, you see?” he murmured, making her cry again, but, this, time, it was a cry of joy.

Pesci

Pesci tried with all his might to hide the insecurity he was feeling. His s/o was already worried enough without his doubts too; he wanted to leave her knowing that she was a little calmer than before. Being anxious wouldn’t have been of help not to her or their baby. He spent a lot of time holding her, caressing her back and belly, murmuring that everything would have gone well, that he was going with his big brother and with him nothing could go wrong: he would have been back for sure. He couldn’t leave her alone, all in all; they were about to start a new, wonderful phase of their life and he wanted to be here to live it with her. Prosciutto too promised her -she was like a little sister, now that she was his little brother’s s/o- that Pesci would have come back all in one piece. She felt reassured by those words and by Pesci’s last, loving kiss and caress on her belly, before seeing them go on their mission. Her hopes shattered when her lover didn’t come back.

As days passed, she understood that Pesci wouldn’t come back. He always, always called her one time per day, always, in every mission, no matter how secret or dangerous it was. But now the phone hadn’t rung for days. She hadn’t news even about the other members of the Squadra: they all just seemed to… to be vanished. And when she heard about a new Don of Passione, her worries became fears and fears became a horrible reality when she heard also that all the infamous Squadra Esecuzione had been annihilated. When she gave birth to hers and Pesci’s baby boy, she didn’t even know if she was crying for the pain of the delivery or for the pain of knowing that she was alone, that the love of her life was dead and that he hadn’t even seen his baby, who he already loved so much… she cried all her tears while holding her baby boy, lulling him and promising him to take care of him, oh, she would have kept him safe, at any cost, even sacrificing her own life.

Pesci had been declared dead, yes, but he wasn’t actually dead. He was among the unknown people in a small hospital near Florence, in a coma. No one knew how he managed to get such deep and terrifying wounds and still being alive. Little they knew that Bruno, in an unexpected act of mercy, had zipped back at least his vital organs and blood vessels, giving him at least a chance to survive. And Pesci grasped it, fighting with all his forces to stay alive. It took a lot of time to the wounds to close and heal, even after his awakening; it took some more to finally remove the bandages and it took even more to learn again how to live, how to function like a normal person. He endured everything, as he had one goal in mind: go back to his s/o and their baby.

He was shocked when he found out that three years and half had passed since that damned mission. So much time… he felt guilt and regret wrapping his guts like a poisonous snake. Was she fine? And their baby? Did she had now another family? He… he needed to know. He wanted to find them again and… and? Apologize? He wanted to make amend, in a way or another. He missed so many years, so many precious, precious years… he would have understood if she had told him not to come back again. He just… needed to be sure they were fine. Nothing more.

He searched for her, finding out that she was living in her old apartment and not the one they had shared before the mission. His heart sank a little: maybe this was the sign that she didn’t want to have anything to do with him, that he was a closed chapter? He steeled his nerves, chasing away those thoughts: he had to be brave, face her and at least try to explain. This was the minimum she deserved. Finally, he knocked at her door, swallowing. The time had come… and here she was, wonderful as he remembered, maybe… maybe a bit more tired, maybe a bit more sad. His heart lost a beat when he saw her. Her tired eyes were open wide, full of shock. She slowly reached to touch his scarred cheek, asking if she was dreaming, ‘cause this was a dream, right? Oh, she had dreamed it so many times, in those years, but this time it seemed so real… and, when she realized that it was indeed real, that the man in front of her was the real Pesci, she broke down without any control, sinking in his embrace while holding him with all her strength, as not to let him go anymore, as to keep him with her forever.

When their son trotted from his room, hearing all that noise, he immediately recognize the man at the door as his father. His mother showed him a lot of photos, always talking about his father’s adventures and his uncle Prosciutto, and she always, also, said that he had inherited his father’s gentleness and determination, other than his green hair. The moment he saw his mother hugging the tall green-haired man on the front door, the child dropped the toy he was holding and run towards them, screaming “Dad! Dad!” and climbing on him, immediately held by Pesci’s arms, who now was embracing him too, crying, kissing his hair and cheeks, with a happy smile that perfectly matched his son’s one. His s/o couldn’t help but weakly chuckle, drying her cheeks, seeing father and son reunite. She was right… their smiles really were alike.

Formaggio

Formaggio’s s/o was used to see her lover coming back battered and wounded, as he was a more physical fighter than, for example, Illuso or Melone, but this time the mission was more than serious and she knew it. Plus, she wasn’t far to give birth to their baby, so she was iper worried and she was continuously recommending him to be careful, to fight at safe distance, if possible, and to please come back in one piece or she… or she wouldn’t have talked to him again, here! Formaggio laughed at her menacing threaten, kissing her one time and one more, poking her nose and promising her to come back for sure, as he had to paint the nursery, right? He also gave a good gentle stroke to her belly, kissing it loudly, chuckling when the baby kicked right on his hand, before straightened up and go on his way, followed by her loud recommendations and advices until he was out of sight. She couldn’t help to feel at unease, this time… and her sixth sense, unfortunately, was right.

She didn’t need to hear it from Risotto, his lover’s leader. She already knew it, as the ring Formaggio gifted her unexpectedly broke. Her heart stopped, when it happened, and she knew that something terrible, maybe the most terrible thing, had just happened. Risotto’s phone call just confirmed what she already knew: her lover, her Formaggio, wasn’t here anymore. She hadn’t even the strength to cry, while she was just sitting, unmoving, not even hearing anymore any sound or noise. It was all… grey. Lifeless. He was gone. Her lover, her best friend, the man whom she loved with so much strength… lost, forever. He wasn’t here while she, at her eighth month of pregnancy, was painting in a soft green the walls of their baby’s nursery. He wasn’t here to hold her hand while she was giving birth to their baby girl. He wasn’t here to make her laugh, as he always managed to do even when she was tired to the bones, and to exult because his baby girl had inherited his red hair… he wasn’t here and his absence was so loud to cover every other sound. She was angry at him, an irrational anger, she knew it. How much she wanted to punch his face!! But also, oh, how much she wanted to hug him again, after the punch, and melt in his embrace… but it wasn’t possible. He was dead and she had to go on. She wanted to be a good mother for their daughter, in his honor too. He would have wanted this.

Little she knew that Formaggio was alive, even if in an almost perpetual unconscious status. Staying awake was so damn painful; sleeping was painful as well. His skin burned so much, he didn’t feel it anymore, he didn’t feel his limbs… nothing. He felt just pain, an eternal pain. How much time was passed? He didn’t know. But, one day, the pain slowly started to withdraw. It was more bearable, now. Slowly, slowly, he managed to stay awake not just for few seconds, but for minutes, hours. His burned skin was healing and he was coming back to life. Yes, not as fascinating as before, but he was alive. He was grateful for this, he didn’t want nothing more, now, than just run to his s/o’s side, to help her in the last months of pregnancy… just that the calendar signed the wrong year. What was that, a joke? Why was it signing 2004? They were in 2001, what the hell. When he was said that they were indeed in 2004, that 3 whole years had been passed, he was utterly shocked. Three years… he left her for three years? Fuck. He had to recover as soon as possible!! He did his best to recover fast, to start to walk, to function again normally… even so, it required few months, bringing the years to four. He was so angry at himself… but now he could finally find her and their baby and he could apologize and he would have even took a slap, as he deserved, but please, he prayed God, he wanted to know they were fine…

And so he was in front of her door, in their old flat. The door had been painted in a nice light blue and potted flowers were at each side of the door. He knocked, swallowing down, trying to calm down his racing heart. When the door opened, his eyes met his s/o’s ones. She stared at him, silent, her mouth thinned in a serious line, her muscles tense and unmoving. Formaggio shifted, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. What if, well… what if she had now a family of her own? And he just popped to ruin it? He was thinking this when her punch hit him right on the nose, not strong enough to make him bleed but surely enough to make him jolt back. He didn’t even have the time to protest that she yanked him down to kiss him, while crying and holding him tightly, with so much strength to knock all the air out of her lungs. He huffed a breathy laugh, enveloping her in one of the bear hugs she loved so much, kissing her hair and face, sighing in relief and happiness. He was home…

He cracked open an eye, when he heard a childish voice come from near. On his lips a wide grin displayed, when he saw that his girl -he had a daughter, a daughter!!- had his same ginger hair and, apparently, his same eat shit behaviour. She immediately addressed at him as “dad” -her mother talked a lot about him and his stand- and, climbing without fear in his arms, she asked him to show her his stand and why he had so many pearly scars, all while touching and exploring his face, making her father chuckle. She really was like him, eh? He couldn’t help but say it to her, while hugging his child and s/o, relishing in their warmth, staring, finally, to make up for the time lost.

Melone

One thing Melone was sure about, was his Babyface’s infallibility. The other one was his s/o and, now, also the babies she was carrying in her belly. Melone, in the bottom of his heart, didn’t want to go and leave her alone, even if just for one day. She was almost at the end of the pregnancy, she needed his assistance, even more since she was carrying two babies! But he also knew he had a duty and so he had to go. He kissed his s/o on all her face, lovingly whispering on her lips that he loved her so, so much, and that he would come back so soon that she wouldn’t even notice his absence. Then, he kneeled in front of her, hugging her belly, as he loved so much to do, and planted two kisses, one for every baby, murmuring how much he loved them too and that they would have been happy, that dad had to go just for a little… that “little” became a lot of time.

It had been Ghiaccio the one who called her to say her he had heard Melone dying while he was talking with him on the phone. She didn’t listen to anything, after the words “Melone’s dead”. She quietly sat down, putting down the phone and then unplugging it, in a calmness that was just the anticipation of the biggest breakdown of all her life. She didn’t want to hear anything more, she didn’t want to see anyone: frankly, just her children, a boy and a girl, stopped her from sinking down and down in a sea of sadness and emptiness. She had to live, she had to be strong, for them, for hers and Melone’s children. She could see some of her Melone in them, in their eyes’ shape, in the right blonde hue of their hair… he was living in them and she couldn’t leave them alone. She had to go on. Melone would have wanted it. No one would have ever replaced him, no one was worthy of this. She would have taken care alone of her babies, loving them with all her strength and being their mom and dad.

The poison had been almost fatal, but not completely: Melone was alive, barely, but alive. He had been hospitalized not even half an hour after his poisoning, but the damage the poison made to his organs was severe and extended. He was put in a pharmacological coma, while his body cleaned itself from the poison. However, Melone didn’t wake up even when the meds that kept him in coma were stopped. The doctors didn’t think that the unknown man would have woken up ever again. They were wrong: it took a bit, but Melone woke up, in the end. One year and half was passed, and he was still too weak to even sit up, figure to walk and go around. He knew it, but still, he just… wanted to go. He had to go to his s/o, to their twins… he had already lost so much time, he couldn’t lose more time!! But recovery wasn’t something he could just speed up with a snap. He worked hard in order to recover faster and, finally, he was out of the hospital. He could, now, search for her.

And here he was, in front of their old front door. His heart hurt when he saw that, under the bell, his surname was still printed near his s/o’s one. He took a deep breath, ringing the bell and, after few seconds, he heard her voice -her wonderful, wonderful voice- exclaiming to wait just a second, followed by childish voices that made Melone’s legs tremble. His kids, his beautiful kids were here… The moment his s/o opened the door, Melone took her in his arms and hugged her tightly, so tightly, crying and apologizing again and again. His s/o needed a couple of seconds to register what was happening, but then his smell, his familiar shape, his, oh, so loved voice and hold finally made their way in her brain and she found herself crying as well, hugging him tightly, caressing his wet face and kissing his lips, soft as she remembered, asking him what happened, how could he be alive, where had he been all those time, how…? Melone answered to everything, while kissing all her face and drying her tears, in broken whispers, keeping her in his arms. It was too beautiful to be real…

And then, he saw the children. If he had more tears to cry, he surely would have cried them too; but his eyes were now dry as he kneeled and smiled at the kids, who were holding each other’s hand and were staring at him, curious. Their mother smiled at them, encouraging to go to hug their dad, that it was all fine. And they did it, feeling instinctively that it was all fine, that that man wasn’t a danger, oh no. Melone hugged them tightly, taking them in his arms and kissing their cheeks, chuckling when they giggled at the kisses and hugged him back, making him sob again. He rested his forehead on his s/o’s, while softly lulling his kids, a watery and happy smile on his face. He was home… he was finally at home.

Illuso

Illuso was smug as always, when he kissed one last time his s/o. Still, she didn’t seem totally convinced: that wasn’t a mission like the others, she knew it. They were going against a whole gang of stand users, it wasn’t something to underestimate! Illuso just hugged her, telling her not to worry, that they all had faced way worse than a group of kids with stands. He caressed her cheeks, with, now, a lesser smug and more reassuring smile, kissing her forehead and nose, to make her smile, smiling too when he saw her lips bent a little; then, he caressed her belly, murmuring to the baby to be a good boy, not to kick too hard and to be good with mom until his return. Getting up, he kissed his s/o one last time, before vanishing in their room mirror. That mirror stayed silent and unmoving for much, much time.

She knew that something was off. The mirrors, even when he was on mission, always seemed… alive. She could feel the reflected world hidden behind the surface, but now… now the mirrors were dull, lifeless. Like all the magic had been disappeared. She knew that there was just one explanation for this, but she didn’t want to believe it. She couldn’t. She didn’t want to even think about Illuso’s death. Her Illuso couldn’t be death, it wasn’t possible. He was strong, he was smart, he… he was about to become a dad! He was so happy to finally become so, he couldn’t be dead right now! He couldn’t… she latched to this thought even while she was pushing and pushing to give birth to her little boy, even when during the sleepless nights spent near the incubator, ‘cause he was born premature, her little boy. She stayed near him, softly whispering to him stories about his dad and the magic world behind the mirrors and how his dad was the king of that world. Her little brave boy made it and she could take him home, where the mirrors still eyed from every wall. She never took them down, as she never really accepted her lover’s death: she knew that, one, day, he would have been back and how could he do so, if there were no mirrors around?

Her instinct was right: Illuso was still alive. Horribly scarred, but definitely alive. The sun weakened the virus before it could kill him and, after few hours, Pompeii site guards found him and called an ambulance. Illuso remained unconscious for long time, and during this time he slowly, slowly healed, the wounds closed as nicely as possible and, where he was too scarred, plastic surgery was used. In the end, Illuso was brought back to life and was recognizable again. Still, he didn’t wake up. It took time for him, for not only his body was scarred, but his mind too and no surgery could heal it. When he opened his eyes, he found out that two long years were passed from that cursed day. He… he wanted to contact her, to talk to her, to tell her he was fine and ask her how she was, and how their baby was… but he still was too weak. He needed more months to finally completely recover, to start to talk again, to eat again alone, to walk and move around properly. And, the moment he could finally move, he took the really few things he had and jumped in the bathroom mirror, to finally go to her.

It didn’t take long to his Man in the Mirror to direct him to really known mirrors. He peeked from them, seeing his and his s/o’s old home. He saw all the small changes, such as a different colored painting on the walls, a new furniture, a new carpet… his eyes filled with tears, when he saw a little boy running inside the house, lively chatting with the woman who was following him and that, now, was placing the groceries on the kitchen table, as the boy climbed on a chair. Here they were, his stars, his loves… his family. A watery chuckle escaped his lips, when he saw his son playing with a small hand mirror, asking his mother to tell him again how his dad could pop out mirrors. So… so she didn’t forget him… he took a deep breath, before ordering his stand to take him out. In an instant, he was in front of the mirror; his s/o and his son immediately turned to the new and sudden presence in the room. Silence reigned for long time, before his son jumped on the chair, a big smile -his s/o’s smile, without doubt- and bursted into a loud “Dad’s here, dad’s come from the mirror!” and jumped to hug him, laughing and going on with a happy “Dad, dad!”. Illuso catched him in his arms, holding him tightly, before being almost knocked down when his s/o too ran towards him to envelope him in a crushing embrace, crying and sobbing on his shoulder, making him cry as well, and they all were laughing, even if Illuso and his s/o were crying too among the laughs of pure happiness and relief. Years and years of endless waiting were washed away, leaving space just to a blinding happiness.

Ghiaccio

Ghiaccio grumbled, when his s/o asked him, as usual, a kiss before his mission. He always grumbled at her requests, but he accomplished it anyway, especially now that she was pregnant. He wasn’t of many words, he just almost ordered them to stay safe and hidden until his return, his hands safely placed on her belly. Her s/o understood the real seriousness of the mission, when her lover gave her a second kiss, thing that he never did before, before parting from her and calling out White Album, skating away. His s/o felt a strange feeling, in the bottom of her heart, as… loss. It was like she was going to lose something or someone. And she wasn’t wrong, as, at the end of that cursed day, she indeed lost her Ghiaccio.

She couldn’t believe it. How could it have happened?! His White Album was impossible to defeat! Ghiaccio was smart, was strong and fast, he was the best after his Capo, how could this happen?! No, she couldn’t believe it. It was surely a lie, a bullshit. Ghiaccio was alive, somewhere. Maybe he was hiding to heal properly, but he was alive. She was sure about it. She never stopped to search for him, even when she was almost on her term. Her mind was always to Ghiaccio even when she was giving birth to their daughter. As she was holding her for the first time, she promised to her little girl that she would have found her dad at any cost. But, now, her first concern was to take care of her daughter; she couldn’t leave her aside to search for Ghiaccio. She knew he wouldn’t have wanted this. And so she did so, surprised by how, since her first months, her daughter manifested her father’s smartness and curiosity. If only he was here too…

And his s/o was right. Ghiaccio was alive. He survived with a damn pole in his throat and doctors couldn’t explain how the hell this was possible. Some of them said that Ghiaccio was gifted with an exceptionally strong will; others said that not even Death themselves wanted to deal with that man that seemed angry even when he was sleeping in a pharmacological coma. Who knew how much time he would have needed to wake up… this happened more or less a year and half after his last fight. He tried immediately to talk, in vain; his vocal cords were still damaged and he was rusty after so much time spent in silence. He was furious at everyone, but especially at himself. He had been a dumbass, an idiot. He had been defeated by two kids, his invincible White Album wasn’t anymore so invincible. And, mostly… he left her alone. He left his s/o and his still unborn child alone. He couldn’t forgive himself and he vented his frustration and pain in anger towards doctors and nurses, silently glaring at them every time they were near. Still, he never actually protested and did everything they said him to do in order to recover faster, especially when he found out he had already lost one year and half of life in that damn sleep. He had to be strong, he had to be again at his best to can finally go to his s/o and… and then? Well, he just wanted to hug them, then he’d have seen.

And finally, he managed to exit the hospital, to everyone’s relief, and go home, finding out that they  were still in Naples, not in their old house, but near. He steeled his nerves, adjusting his glasses, before ringing the bell; his s/o came to open, with a little girl with curly hair in her arms. The three stared at each other for long, endless seconds, before a watery giggle escaped his s/o’s mouth, with a “I knew you were alive”. And then Ghiaccio’s body was moving on its own, enveloping both his s/o and his daughter in a crushing embrace, making his s/o laugh and wheeze and his daughter giggle, as she hugged him back, having recognized him from the photos her mom had shown her since she had memories. He hold them for long, long time, murmuring his apologies in his s/o’s hair, as his daughter toyed with his curl. For the first time since long time, Ghiaccio relaxed, enveloped in his s/o’s warmth and relaxed by his daughter’s fingers in his hair. So… so this was what someone feels when they’re finally in the place they always seeked around? Was this the feeling someone feels when they’re at home? Because, if it was so, he didn’t want it to stop.

[abbacchiosbelt]

Because it's my birthday I was wondering how spending your birthday with La Squadra would be like. Sfw or Nsfw *cough* birthday sex *cough* 😁😁

happy late birthday!!! i went ahead and wrote this as if you were celebrating with all of them (≧◡≦)

under the cut for length and 18+!

No one really celebrated birthdays until you came around and started emphasizing how fun they could be. Really, it was just an excuse for you to get them to relax just a little bit and have some fun. On the day of your birthday, you’re awoken by Formaggio barging into your room and screaming, “BUON COMPLEANNO, AMORE!” After your rude awakening, he’ll drag you out to the kitchen in which Melone has attempted to make you a cute pancake breakfast. 

The pancakes kind of… melted and the silly faces look scary, but they still taste good. Melone wants birthday sex immediately but Prosciutto happens to walk in and tell him no. There will be time for that later. He hands you a fancy bag and tells you to open it later tonight before he kisses your forehead. Pesci is trailing behind him, who greets you shyly with a hug and hands you a small gift box to open later. 

There’s still work to be done, though, so the four of them have to head out to get some jobs done. Risotto and Illuso find you next, both wishing you a happy birthday. Illuso pulls you into a dramtic kiss whereas Risotto gives you a kiss on the head and tells you to be ready for tonight. 

You end up alone with Ghiaccio, who was the only one who didn’t have a job today. He’s actually quite smug, since he’ll be the only one to take you out for a birthday lunch. He takes you somewhere nice and doesn’t rant too much. His gift to you is money because he sucks at giving gifts. 

Once you’re back, Ghiacco will tell you he’s got some work to take care of in his room, so you’re left to your own devices until everyone gets back. Finally, after everyone’s back at HQ and showered, you’re called out of your room only to be greeted by a birthday cake that says ‘100′ on it. Apparently, Formaggio had thought it would be hilarious. 

Once you’ve all had your fair share of cake, Melone instigates the rest of the activities by asking if you’d rather eat it off of him. If you take him up on his offer, he’ll strip immediately and put a piece of birthday cake right above his already hard cock, complete with smearing some whipped cream on the tip for you. 

It’s not long, then, before the rest of them are stripped. Prosciutto, much to the disdain of the others, escorts you to your room to help you ‘open’ your present from him. You find he’s bought you a pair of luxurious lingerie, complete with a cute little collar to match. He’ll pull you into a deep kiss before escorting you back to the living room with everyone else. 

Risotto makes an audible groan at the sight of you in the lingerie and tells Prosciutto he did a good job. 

The birthday boy or girl always gets to pick who goes first… but you can’t resist picking your capo. The rest of them expected it, so they go to working each other up whilst they watch you and Risotto first. 

Risotto fucks you how he knows you like it - complete with whispers in your ear about how good you luck, and how he wished every day was your birthday if he got to do this. He cums inside of you with a loud moan before kissing you deeply and pulling out. 

Once he’s done, the rest of them practically pounce on you. Melone slides in where Risotto left off. Formaggio takes your mouth, and you find Ghiacco’s and Illuso’s cocks in either of your hands.

It’s good and messy and there’s so much going on that you can barely think - Melone is focused on making you cum with his thumb rubbing diligently on your clit, and Formaggio is making sure not to take it too hard on your mouth. Even Ghiaccio is keeping his dirty talk ‘positive’, instead of degrading you how he usually likes. Illuso decides he’d rather play with your breasts, so he takes his time pleasuring you there.

Eventually, all of them get a turn - most of them ask how you’d like them. They happily comply with your wishes. Melone puts whipped cream on your nipples and everyone takes a turn eating and licking it off of you.

Pesci, who is usually a bit shy about talking, tells you how good you look and that he’s glad you get to do this together. 

Prosciutto tells you he can’t wait to get you alone in that set - but for now, he lets you ride him while he sits on his favorite chair. Everyone is either watching and touching themselves, or playing with each other. Ghiaccio and Melone can usually be found working each other up while they wait for you, and Risotto/Illuso/Formaggio have a lot of fun together. He can pick up either of them with one arm. Pesci is too shy for that sort of thing, but he does like to watch all of it. 

When you’re thoroughly fucked out, Risotto takes you one last time by holding you up and fucking you slow and deep.

Risotto helps carry you to the bath where Melone has set up a nice post-fuck bubble bath for you, whereas the other boys are on clean-up duty. Prosciutto warms your sheets up for you in the dryer so that when you get to bed, you’ll be nice and snug. Some of them end of falling asleep in your room - Melone and Ghiacco claim the bed with you. Illuso ends up on your couch and Pesci curls up in your comfy chair. Risotto joins Prosciutto for a nightcap, and the two discuss how much fun the next birthday will be. 

[dokidoki-tae]

Valentine's Day Ask 💐

💐 - Do you or your F/O get gifts for each other on Valentine’s Day?  What is their ideal gift?

I get Prosciutto his favorite flowers. Normally, he wouldn’t have ever thought himself the type to want flowers until actually receiving them. Overall, he loves the gesture. But what he does like to get as a gift is a nice candlelit dinner with his favorite food: steak with potatoes and asparagus with a bottle of expensive wine. After, another gift is presenting myself in a nice sexy red lingerie outfit

[ask-bucciarati-squad]

Abbacchio, Can I braid your hair?