#the light cool kiss of the ocean water

[dilfsfordinner]

honeymoon- nanami kento x wife!reader

a/n- in preparation for this week’s episode, this is my ode to my husband

warnings- fem!reader, unprotected sex, praise, missionary pos, mating press, belly bulge, nanami has a big d, implied breeding kink, fluffff

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Nanami Kento had been dreaming of a vacation. Somewhere with sand and palm trees, warm weather, the ocean, you. Now it would take a lot for him to admit this because he’s not a dreamer, per se, especially with his strict work ethic, but the amount of times he had to catch himself during a shift from drifting off in a fantasy about sleeping in or relaxing on the beach, you could say he had started to reflect his child-like self.

Except every single one of those dreams could not rival the feeling of experiencing his honeymoon with you. He’d gotten what he wanted. A private villa, surrounded by greenery with a whole rainbow of colors blessing the space. Red, orange, pink, and especially white flowers would pop out from the dense leaves of the tropical garden that was essentially your front yard, their sweet perfume just light enough to not be too overbearing. The villa was perched in a cluster of palms, the white-sand beaches of the Caribbean literally at your disposal by a pathway from your bedroom, its wood-lined trail leading down to a private oceanside cove of sand and the most vivid aquamarine water you’d ever seen.

It had been five days since the two of you had arrived at your little oasis, 120 hours of complete and utter relaxation accompanied by sheer happiness. You could barely contain your excitement for the trip when he’d announced the surprise destination a month before your wedding, and that giddiness you were once feeling was multiplied tenfold. Kento Nanami was finally your husband. The man you had fallen for was now tied to you legally and emotionally, the two of you matching with the golden bands placed upon your fingers, yours just a tad bit more extravagant with the stone you had dreamt of forged perfectly into the smooth metal.

Your favorite gift you had received though was once again from your husband. It had been given on the day of your wedding, a little white, bow-tied box placed in your hands before the reception. Upon opening it, you were met with a pretty bracelet, a twisted chain of pure platinum so uniformly perfect, you knew your husband had picked it. Your favorite part however, was the tiny charm hanging from the chain, a cursive “k” inscribed into the precious material, a clear sign of your newly wed’s hand in the purchase. “I’m yours now,” he had whispered into your hair, kissing away a stray tear from your cheek before helping you clasp the delicate chain around your wrist.

For days you had thanked him any way you could for his kindness, the two new additions he’d gifted so beautifully thoughtful, gifts that certainly garnered a lot of attention, especially when it came to some.. exerting activities.

It was like the atmosphere had turned you two into animals, your bodies sore from the endless (sorry for lack of a better word), fucking, the tension so thick you could feel it heavy in your chest, the warm, salty breeze flowing through the mesh, white curtains of your bedroom doing nothing to help calm your lustful state.

It was nearly dusk and your current session had started about an hour ago, any and every position you could think of already tried, your body turned and flipped a multitude of times before you were placed on your back again, thighs pushed up against your chest, your legs falling over your husband’s broad shoulders.

Your throat was dry from the fountain of moans constantly spilling from your mouth, Nanami’s name starting to sound like an imaginary word from the amount of times you’d choked out the syllables. Don’t be too embarrassed though because he was just as knocked as you, his skin flush from exertion, sweat dampening his blonde locks, and his usually cool tone of voice had turned desperate, your own name a slurred grumble or groan every time he felt you clench around him.

Your silky, white nightgown had been discarded long ago, the little scrap of fabric on the floor reminding you of what had started this escapade in the first place. The memory of Nanami’s eyes darkening when you’d emerged for bedtime had your stomach tightening and eyes squeezing shut. You’d known him for who knows how long and he still managed to make you feel like a horny teenager with just one look.

“My perfect wife,” he panted into your neck, heavy cock nudging your deepest parts, you could feel him in your belly, could even see him in your belly, the area below your navel molding just slightly into the shape of his cock every time he would push into you.

Your skin was glowing from the last remnants of sunlight reaching through the gauzey curtains, the ocean waves gentle as they crashed along the shore, wrapping you in a cocoon of pure passion, the current moment so perfect and loving, one of Nanami’s hands snaking into your palm to ground you, the other resting beside your head as he kissed the tender curve of your neck.

He was a warm lover. Caring, romantic, a listener. Someone who focuses on giving instead of stealing pleasure. That’s why it was so easy to give him your trust, to open yourself up to him emotionally, and physically. Someone who easily outshined anyone when it came to choosing who to share your remaining years with.

Your ring fingers clinked together when he pushed into you with a particularly needy thrust, the golden bands once again twining as his fingers curled over your own in a firm lock. “Only yours,” you whimpered out, voice almost breaking from your very vulnerable position, your chest compromised as your legs were propped up, the backs of your thighs fitting against his chest, folding over his shoulders at the knees.

Not only did your words drive him crazy, but the little jingle he would hear every time his hips connected with your own had his eyebrows knitting with some primal need to actually make you his. The bracelet he’d gifted you had ended up clasped around your delicate ankle, the silver charm glinting his initial in the low lights, every little reflection catching his peripheral, spurring him on. You had done it on purpose. You had known he would have you folded sooner or later and you knew how much he loved to mark you, that piece of jewelry a literal signing of his name on you.

Your mouths latched onto each other, hurried kisses ending in heavy breaths against each other’s face or neck, eventually your foreheads being the place of rest as he continued to fuck you with every ounce of energy in his body.

“-love you, s’much,” you murmured, voice lilting with the rising pleasure in your core, his thick length prodding every ridge you had to offer, that spongey spot of nerves catching his head with every pass, eliciting a gasp from your lips, Nanami’s jaw clenching as he held himself back from completely plowing into you, your approaching climax drawing a rush of liquid from your twitching cunt, trickling onto his thighs.

“I love you,” he kissed you this time, his strong hand fisting the sheets beside your head, the other still clutching onto your hand as he knocked the breath from your lungs, his cock feeling like a full-blown spear impaling you, the only thing keeping you sane being his mouth on you, and the sweet-nothings groaned from his lips.

***

It was dark by the time you two had truly finished with each other, your body curled up in Nanami’s lap as he lounged with you on the large chairs placed outside the curtains of your bedroom, the moonlight bouncing off the waves as they continued their trek across the shore.

His nimble fingers traced gentle shapes on your back, your upper body covered by his blue shirt, dwarfing your form in a pool of fabric, Nanami modeling your “half-nakedness” with only a pair of boxers, his strong legs visible to your very sleepy, but eager eyes.

Some type of tropical, cricket creature hummed a pretty song, coaxing your eyelids to flutter, your body sinking further into your husband’s hold, your cheek nestled gently against the soft curves of his collarbone, his heartbeat steady in your ear.

Taking note of your drifting consciousness, Nanami smiled down at your curled up form, fingers slowly letting up on their brief massage session to brace his hold. “Let’s get you to bed,” he murmured, kissing the top of your hair with such tenderness you almost agreed to get up and listen, but he was just so warm and cozy.

Pretending to not hear him, you put on your best sleeping face, mouth opening slightly to really pull it off, the tiniest of snores leaving you in a very convincing manner. Silence followed your antics before a rumble vibrated from the chest of the man you lied on, a soft laugh leaving him as he took in your ‘sleeping state’, a laugh that had your lips twitching, a smile almost breaking out on your face.

“What a shame.. the Mrs. has fallen asleep on me,” he sighed, voice filled with faux sorrow, and when he relaxed back into the chair, you thought the victory was yours, nuzzling back against his chest to comfortably relax again. That was.. before your world was turned upside down, a yelp echoing from your throat as Nanami hoisted you over his shoulder, your bottom cradled by his large hand as he smiled that stupid smile of his and trekked back into the bedroom, all fatigue gone from the two of you, replaced with the teasing air of aching want.

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[satorhime]

. ･｡･ right where you left me ࿐gojo satoru.

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ content : angst, fluff, dad!gojo (reader ‘n’ gojo have a daughter), set in 2018 and 2023, reunion, beach trips, established relationship ! f!reader. ･｡･ w.c. 3.7k & not proofread.

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ synopsis : time remains the one enemy gojo can’t defeat. ໒꒰ྀི ´ ꒳ ` ꒱ྀིა notes: ik there’s a gazillion reunion fics but this has been sitting in my drafts since oct n i suddenly felt like finishing n sharing so i hope u enjoy <333 ‘m gna go cry over this fic now ;u;

satoru is having a damn good day.

it’s suspicious, it feels like a fever dream, and he can’t really pinpoint where the dubiousness comes from. maybe it’s because he feels as if he doesn’t deserve it, like if he allows himself to relax like this something terrible will happen while he slacks off. or maybe, it’s because he’s only ever had those truly good days in his youth when he was devil may care and his concerns for the wellbeing of the world slid off his shoulders weightlessly, like sheets of rain on a rooftop. a wild and selfish kind of happiness that begun in spring and ended too quickly in winter.

but today is a good day. he forgot to charge his phone last night, he is in the best mood he’s been in all year, and he can’t stop fucking smiling. gojo satoru is thriving, on top of the world, a little bit of that nostalgic, adolescent joy warming up his chest.

and it’s all because it’s a sunny day, the water is cool, and he’s on the beach with you and his baby girl.

the three of you decided to steal away on a spontaneous trip to okinawa that forced him out of his work uniform and into swim trunks with a bare chest, simply because you burst into his office with big droplets of tears in your eyes declaring yourself a terrible mother because you realized that your daughter was already three years old and she had never seen the ocean before.

it had taken him ten minutes to book three first class tickets and secure the private family villa for the weekend, fifteen to get packed, and twenty to board after hearing that.

he would do anything to please his girls, after all.

“‘anna go into the bathtub, mama!” your baby whines impatiently from the embrace of your arms, squirming and squiggling for you to let her down as she points towards the rolling ocean waves behind you. ever since she learned how to walk, she’s lost all patience for her doting parents carrying her around— especially when something catches the attention of those big, pretty blue eyes. it didn’t take long for her to become enamored with the sea, wanting nothing more than to get out of your hold and toddle towards the shallows.

“it’s called an ‘ocean’, cupcake,” you correct her, voice full of amusement and affection as you crane your head forward to kiss the soft skin of her chubby cheek, bouncing the toddler in your arms. “too bad we’re being held hostage by dada right now.”

“i heard that,” satoru mumbles with a pout, his third melon popsicle of the day hanging from one side of his mouth. droplets of green slush drips onto the broad planes of his chest in a sticky mess as it melts but he’s wholly focused on the two of you, one summer blue eye winked closed as the other peers through the lens of the polaroid camera looped around his neck. “but wait, just one more photo of my two favorite girls!”

“you’ve been taking photos for the last twenty minutes, satoru,” you huff. “we aren’t going anywhere, you know. you don’t have to take so many.”

“our baby needs to see what the three of us looked like in our prime, before we grow old and gray together.”

“you’re so ridiculous, gojo satoru.”

but despite your exasperation, you remain put. it’s hard not to feel the same way he does on a perfect day like this— contentment, light in the heart and full of love because of this little trip. the camera focuses in on you and your daughter before the shutter clicks, each snap immortalizing the sight of you and your baby girl illuminated by the lazy autumn sun.

“and done!” he cheers, catching the polaroid in his palm as it slides from the slot. it wobbles between two of his fingers as it develops, but he can already see that it’s a perfect picture. he feels his heart sink in his chest, melting into a syrupy sweet puddle of happiness that makes him lightheaded and anxious.

oh, you’ve never looked as pretty as you do right now. like a dream, a forever kind of love he never plans to let go of. wearing that cute little swimsuit he likes so much with his sunnies perched on top of your head and his baby propped up on your supple hip. the two of you are beaming, cheeks squished together, your daughter’s hand cupping your face fondly.

it’s the kind of picture that others would coo at and fawn over if he framed it in a museum, but satoru retrieves his wallet from the pocket of his swim trunks, tucking the polaroid safely in the trifold for his own selfish keeping.

“i think she really likes the beach,” you tell him, squatting to set your daughter on her feet. she waves to you and satoru before waddling toward the shallow surf, her little legs stumbling in the thick body of sand. “this was good of you, satoru.”

“what? you think i’d miss the opportunity to spend time with my best girls?” he asks you, a hand on his chest with an affronted look on his face. you resist the urge to snort as the two of you follow closely behind your stumbling toddler, rushing towards her every time she gets distracted and attempts to eat the sand or chase one of the seagulls.

“you’ve been busy lately, that’s all,” is how you respond, the accusation washed out of your tone for the gentle words instead. you don’t bring up how many milestones, how many little memories he’s already missed, just by being who he is— that no matter what, he’ll always belong to his duty first and his family second. no, you’ve always shown patience and understanding. never complaining when his side of the bed is empty before morning or your girl requests for her father to read a bedtime story in that animated, comical way you can never replicate for her. making her settle for your offkey, wobbly lullabies instead.

“i know,” he says quietly, suddenly serious— keeping one eye on your baby girl who is currently splashing her hands around in the sand and water. “one of my first year’s a vessel so the curses are getting more pesky. i don’t think that’s a coincidence.”

“you think something’s about to happen?” you ask, looking up at him, but he presses a kiss to your temple and you wrinkle your nose at the sticky feeling of his lips.

“nah,” he replies, and you almost roll your eyes because you know he’s lying. even though satoru has done his best to keep you hidden from his world, you’re no fool. you already know why he rarely comes home at night, why he was absent for christmas last year, why your daughter has never met her paternal grandparents. you know that with the reappearance of several ancient cursed objects, there is thunder crackling among the clouds. “don’t worry your pretty little head about that.”

satoru turns up the volume on the waterproof boombox half-buried in the sand next to your belongings. he can’t stand your choice of music, finds it noise most of the time, but it’s the distraction the atmosphere needs to throw off your questioning. he pulls you to sit down between his legs, your back pressed against his chest and his arms wrapped around your body.

ocean foam splashes against the tips of your toes as the two of you sit at the surf of the tide in peaceful silence, time getting away from you both in the warm sun as your baby girl plays, her energy endless— waddling around and squealing at the different curiosities and wonders the beach has to offer.

whatever will happen, satoru won’t allow it to be today.

“satoru,” you call after a long quiet, craning your neck to look up at him. “if you—”

“what, you think i’m gonna croak sometime soon?” he shoots back, already knowing where the conversation is heading. so he holds you tighter, his strong arms a protective cage around your body as his shades slide down the attractive slope of his nose. he cracks a grin at you, another obvious deflection because he knows you can’t resist when he looks at you that way. not with his hair mussed from humidity, a strip of sunscreen on his nose as he chews on that damn wooden stick from his ice pop earlier.

“i know what you’re doing,” you shake your head. “and it’s not working. i’m just worried, i’m allowed to, as your wife. you think you’re invincible but if something happens to you that’ll… it’ll—” it will break us.

satoru’s smile fades, but he thankfully doesn’t need to reply because your daughter is waddling up to the both of you now, her sand-caked hands full of seashells and stones that glimmer in the sunlight. he wants to scoff because if anyone understands the consequences of failing those you love, it’s him— it’s all he’s ever known.

“what ya got there, princess?”

“fish—!” she cries in her sweet, babyish voice. some of the shells tumble from her hands, and you watch as her expression switches from happiness to dismay to finally confusion. you have to bite your lip to hold back laughter when instead of picking them back up, she dumps the rest of the seashells in your lap. “now i don’t have any fish.”

“i think those are seashells, princess,” gojo says with a grin, picking up a shell that rests on top of your thigh and holding it up to the sunlight. “this shell looks like it belongs to a hermit crab, like your megumi-nii.”

“you’re a terrible influence on our daughter, you know.”

“i’m just setting up future dynamics, angel face,” he grins.

“look look look!” your daughter gasps, bringing your attentions back to her. “this swee-shell looks like dada—!” she squeals excitedly, her new finding held delicately in her little sand-covered palm. she stands up on your thighs to reach her father sitting behind you, holding an iridescent blue seashell next to gojo’s eyes, her tiny mind comparing the colors in wonder. meanwhile, satoru wears a smile that burns so wide it hurts his cheeks.

“it looks like you too, princess,” he boops her nose, gently taking the seashell and holding it to her eyes next. her answering giggles sound like a sweet bell calling him home to heaven, but he can’t answer it because there are two people on this earth who laugh and smile at him like he hung the moon and painted the stars. “if you put it in your pocket now, the ocean won’t call the cops on you for stealing it.”

“no, this one ‘s for dada,” she insists, shoving the pretty blue seashell back into his hand.

“thank you, my mini angel,” he ruffles her hair, and you smile softly at the little exchange because though she may be enamored with her new discoveries at the beach, her father will always be one of her favorite wonders of the world.

“i ‘anna go find one for mama now!” she announces, and you wonder how she hasn’t run out of energy yet, but you nod and stand to your feet, dusting the sand away from the bottom of your swimsuit. your baby’s entire hand curls around your pointer finger, and she pulls you along with great effort.

you glance back at satoru and find that he’s watching the two of you head closer to the water, that uncharacteristically genuine smile still on his face, and you part your lips to call him to your side— where he’s always supposed to be.

“you didn’t think we’d let you slack off, did you? finding seashells is serious business, satoru!” you tease, pretty eyes crinkling with unbridled happiness, haloed by the waning sun and the orange dreamsicle sky that holds it. “hurry up!”

“wait for me just a little while, i’m coming to you,” he calls back, a lopsided grin spreading across his mouth before he raises the polaroid camera to his face, snapping one last candid photo of the two of you before he jogs towards his little piece of heaven.

but he doesn’t think he’s imagining things when the distance between heaven and earth keeps growing further and further apart—

“satoru, you can’t stand outside forever,” your voice is gentle as it speaks behind him, your hand laid delicately on his back in comfort; breaking the sorcerer out of deep reverie, the edges of the old memory fading, replaced by the pink paint of his daughter’s bedroom door that he’s been standing in front of for the last thirty minutes. his thumb brushes over the polaroid in his hand, the one that had been his salvation and his undoing in the prison realm. he’d taken it out without knowing, his eyes reading over the date written in his handwriting.

october 30, 2018

the picture of you with your daughter on your hip that he took at the beach all those years ago— that had been the last time he’d seen her.

four, no, five years?

his feet are nailed to the floor because change makes satoru shut down, and everything has changed since then.

while time was immeasurable and immovable inside of the prison realm for him, the clock had ticked on outside of it and just like that, his little girl is no longer three years old, giving him seashells that matches his eyes or hitting the back of his ankles with her big wheel or—

“you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” you sigh. “you’ve been unsealed for months. you’re her father, no matter what.”

“i’m a stranger to her,” and to you, but he doesn’t say it. you had waited for him, in every aspect of the word. held out on hope and faith in his strength that he would return to your side, where he’s always supposed to be.

“you’re n—” but you’re cut off when the door opens to reveal your daughter standing on the other side. the child standing before him is almost unrecognizable. she’s much taller and older, wearing track pants underneath her school dress with ribbons in unruly waves of white hair. the last time he’d seen his daughter, she had been three years old and still learning things like colors and sight words and that feeding megumi’s demon dogs her vegetable purée was against the rules. now, gojo satoru was the father of an eight year old and he’d missed everything because of a mista—

“you can come in,” she says, blinking up at satoru with an expression void of emotion. “but i’m not finished with my homework so if you stay too long, you’ll bug me.”

“how did you know i was outside?” he whistles nonchalantly, unbothered by the attitude that she gives him. it fills him with bitter satisfaction that she isn’t excited to see him, that someone is angry that he failed, regardless if he won in the end. he can handle bratty children who hate him and only look at him as a tool for their success, he can’t handle a daughter who cried herself to sleep every night waiting for him while he was losing his sanity away in a cube.

or at least, that’s what he tells himself.

“i could see you and mama through the door, duh,” she replies, hip cocked to the side in an amount of sass she had to pick up from you. “mama says i have your eyesight. i don’t really get it, but it makes it easy to cheat on tests.”

he could see it in the bright blue of her eyes, even if she hadn’t confirmed it. plain as daylight, she’s exactly like he was at that age. easily irritable and bratty, cocky and spoiled rotten. suffering from the weight of being an uncontested heir to an ancient dynasty at the age of elementary.

“i used six eyes to cheat on tests too,” he relates with pride, and then he bends down to her height, waving his palm. “sooo you probably got some questions about where i was—”

“not really. grandfather said you were sealed because you’re foolish and let weakness distract you.”

“you shouldn’t say things like that,” you scold, “apologize.”

“why? i don’t want to.”

your daughter turns, disappearing back into her room after that and seeming like she doesn’t care if satoru follows or not. your hand travels up the long expanse of satoru’s back in a soothing circle as you step closer.

“huh, that’s new.”

“sorry, she’s… i don’t know if acting out is the right term,” you say, pain in your voice. “she doesn’t really understand why she’s so different, or why you were … gone for so long. i know you didn’t want her around your family so i kept her away as best i could, but she started to have crippling migraines because she didn’t know how to use her ability and well… they were the only ones who knew how to help. filled her head with foolishness every time she visited the estate, though and it’s changed her.”

“huh,” is all he says, a broken record, tongue running across his inner lip in thought.

“do you need me?”

“what, you think i can’t handle her?”

“well, you were outside the door for a half hour, ‘toru.”

he shoots you a lopsided grin before he’s stepping into his daughter’s bedroom, glancing around at the unfamiliarity of it all. you follow close behind, watching with a heavy heart as he takes in the difference eight years can make.

her tiny baby crib has been traded for a poster bed decorated with a sanrio duvet and various stuffed animals where a laptop and study papers lay scattered on top. the angel themed decorations, along with her first ultrasound photo you and satoru had hung up in her nursery had been replaced by pink paint and pictures of her with a group of friends from school and a photo of her on a volleyball team.

he has to rip his gaze away.

“so,” he starts, standing in the center of the room and trying not to feel like an intruder, desperate for something to say— something to relate to her with. “how many episodes did i miss? did aya-chan ever get married?”

“i’m too old to play with dolls now, father,” she huffs, scrunching up her nose, and though satoru expected that exact answer, it doesn’t stop his heart from shattering into a million pieces. he feels that familiar itch, anger welling in his body until it burns at his fingertips because this is no one’s fault but his own. “don’t you know anything about me?”

“my bad, you’re a big kid now,” he snorts, even as his chest aches. he sits on the edge of her bed, flipping up one edge of the coloring book laying next to her laptop. “maybe you should start paying taxes.”

“i’m also too young to pay taxes. you really don’t know anything about me anymore,” she snaps, and she’s right— he doesn’t and it burns like saltwater on a wound. now he knows why you asked if he needed you; he’d hide behind you if he could, but he settles for flickering his eyes up to you helplessly.

you realize that neither of you can be upset with her for being angry that one of her favorite people vanished out of thin air. that while he was sealed, his clan had taken advantage of his absence and your powerlessness against them, and had begun spoiling your child rotten, teaching her how to use her ability— plumping her up for the inevitable day that she becomes her father’s successor, turning her against him.

“i think,” you say softly, leaning against the frame of the door. “that your dada— your father— would like to learn, though. he’s missed a lot, baby.”

she considers this for a long while, then she heaves a great sigh, hackles lowering. she scoots off the bed and before satoru can feel the hurt of figuring she doesn’t want to be near him, she does something unexpected. she moves one of her trophies out of the way to open her closet door, rummaging around for the longest before she yanks out a cardboard box you had labeled ‘donate one day since my snotty kid is a hag now’— it’s a box full of old dolls, covered in dust. she sits on her knees in front of the box, peering inside.

“aya-chan didn’t get married, but hinata-chan did,” she explains with an exasperated sigh and a roll of her eyes, taking out the dolls one by one and setting them on the floor in front of satoru’s feet.

“to the mailman that lived in your ugliest dollhouse?”

“you remember,” her eyes widen a little in surprise before her expression shutters again, smoothing out the doll’s colorful polyester dress before reaching back into the box and retrieving a brush covered in synthetic hairs. she looks at it for a while before extending her arm and offering the brush to her father. “aya-chan decided to be independent and explore the world. she’s planning to go on a trip soon so she needs to get ready. do y’wanna brush her hair?”

satoru is sliding off the bed and sitting cross-legged on the floor before he knows it, barely wanting to breathe because he doesn’t want to shatter the fragility of the moment between them. he takes the brush, and seconds later she hands him one of the dolls that had once upon a time been her favorite one that no one was allowed to touch. you would giggle at the delicate way he brushes the doll’s hair with utmost care and precision if you weren’t about to cry at the scene instead. “oh, and where’s she headed?”

“okinawa.”

“ponytail or messy bun then?” you don’t think you’re imagining the wobble in his voice. “to compliment her swimsuit.”

a tiny, hopeful smile twinkles over your lips at the two of them on the floor, babbling away to each other about the outlandish stories they’ve created together with her dolls. how many times had you offered to play with her, only for her to burst into tears because it wasn’t the same? you know that this won’t bridge the gap between the years that have been lost, but it’s a start. just hearing the soft murmurs of their conversation, the sound of your little girl giggling for the first time in ages, makes your heart swell.

time may be an undefeated opponent, and with it comes change that no one can control, but something tells you that as long as the three of you are together— everything will be okay.

you tiptoe out of the room, because they need time to catch up and apologize and reconnect, to learn one another once more, but before you close the door, you don’t think you’re mistaken when you hear, “can we go back to the beach too, dada?”

[rafeandonlyrafe]

just add water

words: 5k

warnings: brief illusions to sex but no smut, mermaids (like h2o mermaids), tropical storm/bad weather, really fluffy hehe, australian!reader, lots of kisses omfg these bitches in LOVE!

it's one of the few things rafe does to calm himself down. sandals held in his hand, feet pressing into the cool sand with every step.

rafe looks down the beach, the moonlight reflecting off the water as the waves gently lap against the shore. he squints into the darkness when he sees movement, hoping his relaxing walk isn't going to be interrupted by someone's public intimate moment.

he continues walking, the same stretch of beach he always does, passing by familiar houses of friends and old classmates.

his vision clears as he gets closer, eyes widening when he sees you, knees pulled up to your chest as you stare into the water.

“hey.” rafe says when he's a couple yards away, not wanting to spook. you, but it fails as you gasp and jump up to standing.

“sorry.” rafe holds his hands up, trying to show that he means you no harm. “im just taking a walk on the beach.”

you take a step back, like you're making room for him to walk past, for him to continue to leave footsteps in the sand, but rafe looks closer at you as the moon shines down, light slightly illuminating from the rows of houses with porch lights or bedroom lights left on before bed.

“im rafe.” rafe can't seem to keep walking, his feet planted firmly as his eyes roam over your face. “i don't think we've met before.”

“just moved here.” you explain quickly. “im y/n.”

“you're australian?” it's more of a statement than a question, but you nod, the accent clearly giving you away.

“i was wondering why i haven't seen you before. it's a small island, everyone kinda knows everyone.” 

“yeah.” it's a signal to end the conversation, polite but firm, but again rafe can't help himself, drawn close to you looking out onto the water just as he does.

“would you like me to give you a tour of the island? tomorrow or whenever you're available.”

“that would actually be really nice.” you smile at rafe. you were worried about leaving everything you knew in australia when your parents moved you across the country, and it's perfect luck that you meet someone your very first night in the outer banks willing to show you around.

“here.” rafe pulls his phone out of his pocket. he puts it on do not disturb for his walks, pretending it's not there, not allowing it to distract him, but he needs your phone number, needs to see you again, to see if your eyes are the same enchanting twinkling of the water in the daytime.

you take his phone and put in your name and number before handing it back, hand briefly touching his, feeling warm against your slightly chilled skin, making you realize you probably should have put on more than just shorts and a tank top for relaxing at the shore at night.

“ill text you.” rafe says, giving you one last look over before taking a step back, not turning away yet, keeping his eyes on you, as if you're an apparition thats going to disappear the minute he blinks.

rafe finally turns away to walk home, not looking back. he smiles. he can feel your eyes on him.

--

you sigh as you step into the bath, sinking in as your legs morph into a tail moments after the water makes contact with you. you never realized how much you loved showers until you couldn't take them anymore.

you have a love hate relationship with your abilities. being able to manipulate the shape and volume of water, as well as enhanced breath and super speed swimming, is amazing. but having your bottom half turn into a mermaid tail every time water touches you is a hard accomodation to make when your parents love the ocean.

you wash yourself off quickly, knowing you have to get totally dry before rafe gets here to show you around the island. 

--

two weeks in the outer banks. the time feels like it's flown by. you're surprised how much you don't miss australia. your parents tended to jump around from town to town to surf, so you never developed a close group of friends either.

two weeks spent with rafe, first showing you the popular parts of the island, then his favorite areas, the spots only locals know about, filling you in on all the nicknames that can't be found with a simple google search.

the only place he hasn't shown you yet is anything out on the water. you refuse every time he offers to take you out on his boat, and his sad face breaks your heart.

“wanna go out on the boat today?” rafe asks, just as you're thinking about it, like the idea transferred from your head to his. you hope that's not a new power developing.

“sure.” you finally concede, heart fluttering when rafes face breaks into a wide smile. you are taking things slowly, despite what is clearly forming. “but no swimming.”

you hate having to lie to rafe, pretending like you don't wake up every morning and explore the waters of the outer banks before hiding under a pier to dry off. you told him you were afraid of the water, that you didn't like going in it, merely enjoying looking at it.

rafe is excited to take you out, so much so that wheezie gives him a weird look before shrugging, deciding to herself that crushes make boys do crazy things, because she's never seen her brother act like this, so enthralled.

“here, ill help you.” rafe reaches his hand out as you step into the boat. you don't want to let go as he guides you towards the bench behind the helm, allowing you to sit down as your fingers finally disconnect.

“im gonna show you everything.” rafe undoes the lines quickly before returning to you. “and by the end of your boat tour, you'll realize that the outer banks is so much better than australia.”

rafe places an arm around your back, not caring that he now has to navigate with just one as you giggle and tuck yourself into his side.

the ocean calls to you as rafe shows you different spots, the outer banks feeling so different when looking back at the land.

rafe anchors the boat at a sandbar. you look over the edge, surprised how crystal clear the water is in this area.

“there's a spring in that marshy area over there.” rafe points towards a cluster of grass. “it feeds out into the ocean here. one of the best spots in the obx.”

“it's beautiful.” you say honestly. the sun is warm against your face, tanning your skin and relaxing you, keeping you dry enough to not turn whenever a drop of water splashed over the side of the boat onto your skin.

it's dangerous to be on the boat, but you can't help it with the way rafes eyes light up as he looks at you before ripping his shirt off over his head, catapulting over the side into the water.

“rafe!” you shout as a plume of water splashes up, soaking your arm.

rafe smiles at you as he resurfaces before his expression quickly shifts to a frown when he sees you furiously rubbing a towel against your arm.

“y/n, the water isn't dirty.” rafe didn't realize how deep your fear got. he climbs back onto the boat as you stagger back, face twisting in fear as you look at rafe.

“shit, im sorry.” rafe takes a step towards you, but you back away.

“take me back, please.” you sit down at the front of the boat, making your position clear.

rafe nods, glad the water covering him is hiding the tears that well up in his eyes as he pulls the anchor.

you stay sat far away, towel wrapped around your shoulders to protect you from getting wet as rafe drives back in silence, not speaking until he has the boat tied back to the dock, now completely dry and donning his tshirt again.

“hey.” rafe kneels in front of you. “im really sorry.”

you open your mouth to reply, to tell him it's okay, but rafe continues speaking. 

“you said no swimming. i should have listened. i saw this-” rafe places a glimmering queen helmet conch shell in your lap. “at the sand bar and wanted to get it for you. so you could remember this day.”

rafe stands up, figuring this is the last time he'd see you after his mess up. “so you can remember me.”

you stand up quickly, but make sure to carefully set the shell on the seat next to you. before you can second guess your actions, before that cautious voice in your head can convince you otherwise, you press your lips against rafes, having to rise to your tiptoes to reach.

rafe hesitates for a moment before kissing back, arms wrapping around your waist, tugging you in tight to him.

--

“this is a cute spot.” you snuggle into rafes side, his arm wrapped securely around your shoulders, showing all of the obx that he's taken, and you're the one who's captured his eye.

“it is.” rafe hums, looking around the diner. it's not his usual place, but rafe wanted somewhere casual to take you, so you didn't have to worry about dressing up or proper etiquette for your first official date.

you order a stack of pancakes as it's around brunch time, rafe ordering a cheeseburger for himself. you smile at the waiter as they walk away before looking to rafe. “im totally gonna steal some of your fries by the way.”

“fries and pancakes?” rafe twists his face up as you giggle.

“potatoes go with everything.” you explain, like it's a commonly known fact.

“what's your favorite food?” rafe asks. he's dying to know everything about you, wanting to sit you down and run through the list of questions in his head, but he knows it's best to take things slow, to allow things to progress naturally despite wanting to ask you about your favorite color, past boyfriends, whether you're a cat or dog person and so so much more.

you're about to answer when a passing waitress stumbles, her tray of waters heading to a crowded table dumping over you, getting your entire side wet.

the waitress goes to apologize, but you're already on your feet, mental timer starting in your head as you rush to the restroom, letting out a sigh of relief when you realize it's just a single stall as you lock the door behind you moments before you fall to the ground as your tail appears.

“y/n?” rafe must have run after you as he jiggles the doorknob.

“im okay!” you call out. “just drying off. give me a minute.”

“are you sure?” you can picture rafe standing outside, ear pressed against the door.

“yeah. ill be out soon.” you try to reach up to the towel dispenser with little luck. “you better not eat all the fries before i get back.”

you're relieved to hear rafes laugh as you finally get the motion sensor to work, rubbing it over your side, letting out a sigh of relief when your tail finally transforms back into two legs.

you stand up, always feeling a bit wobbly at first, but you want to get back to rafe, to your date and most importantly as your stomach rumbles to your pancakes and fries.

“aussie cheesy potatoes.” you say as you slide into your seat. “my favorite food, aussie cheesy potatoes.”

--

i miss you

you send the text to rafe, smiling when his response bubble instantly appears.

i was just about to text you the same thing

you know you're in the honeymoon phase of your relatively new relationship, but you can't help the giggle that escapes from your lips, the way your heart starts to beat faster.

meet you halfway? rafe sends back before an image loads of a dark beach, camera pointing down the shoreline towards your house.

on my way <3

you quickly touch up your makeup in the mirror, deciding to stay in your pajamas since they're just a loose long sleeve shirt and comfortable shorts. you hesitate between putting on a pair of sneakers or sandals, ultimately deciding more coverage is the smarter option.

you are quiet when leaving your house, just in case your parents are awake. you doubt theyd care anyways, they probably haven't noticed how much you've been gone lately. you are an adult after all, but they stopped being protective the minute you were in your teens, letting you surf solo for the first time the day after your thirteenth birthday. 

you walk down the beach, keeping your steps fast as you look for rafe, breaking out into a jog when you finally see his figure emerge from the darkness.

you throw your arms around rafe as he twirls you, tucking his head into your neck, pressing kisses to your delicate skin before pulling back to connect your lips together.

“hey.” rafe smiles at you, lowering you carefully back to the ground.

“hey.” you peck his lips again in another kiss.

“you look beautiful.” rafe says earnestly, the words falling from his mouth. you're beautiful to him during the day too, but there's something about night time that makes you shine, like the moon calls to you.

“not too bad yourself handsome.” you let rafe string your fingers together before beginning to walk, back in the direction of tanneyhill.

you chat about your days as you stroll, mostly with what rafe was occupied with as he helped his dad, spending your first day away from each other since you arrived on the island. safe to say you're both falling fast.

“stay the night with me?” rafe asks when you're standing in front of tanneyhill, the large house frightening imposing.

“i don't know…” you trail off, but the smile on your face tells rafe you clearly want to.

“at least lay with me on the hammock for a while.” rafe tugs on your hand, and you find your feet following him. he lifts the mosquito netting up as you duck under, toeing your shoes off as rafe lays down.

you snuggle in next to him, sighing as you rest your head against his chest, the fabric squeezing the two of you together.

you both enjoy the gentle quiet, the sound of the waves and wind rushing through the leaves the only thing breaking into your peaceful silence, not needing words, just each other. 

sleep takes you both, warmed by your bodies wrapped together.

--

you're not sure what jolts you awake, but you're glad it happens as your eyes snap open, a drop of water hitting your cheek.

“shit…” you mumble, quickly pushing it off your skin as you look up at the gray sky, the events of last night coming back to you as you realize you're still in the hammock next to rafe. you don't want to move, you're the most comfortable you've ever been in your life, but the skies threatening to open and dump it's rain down on you has you scrambling.

“baby?” rafes voice is deep with sleep as you rush to put your shoes on, knowing the dew on the grass is going to turn you as you look towards the house.

“i-i need to pee!” you yell quickly, pushing out of the mosquito netting as you run, the rain beginning to fall. you're aware of every drop as you push some away with your abilities, but ultimately you can't stop nature as a few drops hit your back.

you aim for the glass doors, praying they're left unlocked as you burst inside, eyes widening when you see not just wheezie, who you've come to know pretty well, but the entire rest of the cameron family milling around in the kitchen.

you're seconds away from transforming as you find your voice. “bathroom.” you simply say before rushing into the closest half bath, glad you accepted the full tour from rafe one day when both ward and rose were away from the house.

“shit.” you mutter under your breath as you hear through the door that rafe has come in after you, mentioning something to his family about rain coming before the tropical storm set to hit in the next couple weeks if it doesn't change direction.

you grab the towel, neatly embroidered with their last name as you rub your back, glad it's only a couple drops as you're quickly able to exit the bathroom.

“sorry about that.” you say awkward, clasping your hands in front of you.

“i was wondering when you lovebirds would wake up or if the rain would do that for you.” ward smiles, eyes flicking between you and rafe. you let him lead the amount of affection as he walks and wraps his arm around your shoulders.

“stay with us for breakfast, y/n.” rose says. clearly someone told the couple about you, most likely wheezie tattling on her brother. you just hope she said nice things.

“yeah, id love that.” you say after rafe squeezes your shoulder to let you know it's okay.

--

good morning gorgeous 

you smile at the text, grabbing your phone the second you were awake.

you quickly reply, a string of emojis that only lovesick you would type out.

there's a party this friday. come with me?

you glance at the calendar hanging on your wall. not a typical one filled with appointments or birthdays, but one charting the phases of the moon, letting you know when it's safe to be out at night. you let out a curse when you realize friday night is a full moon.

sorry baby i can't :( parents want me home to call my grandma back in australia

you can come after, yeah?

sorry rafe 

you leave it at that, hating telling him no, but you need to stay inside during the full moon.

you should totally go though! spend some time with your friends

rafe doesn't mention the party again when you meet up later that day.

--

“i got the party changed to saturday.” rafe says, his head sat in your lap as you brush your fingers through his hair.

“what?” you question, raising your eyebrows. you're sat in your bed, the afternoon sun pouring in from the open windows, watching some show on tv neither of you were truly invested in, just background noise as you look into each other's eyes.

“the party this friday. you can go saturday right?”

“yeah.” you nod, smile stretching across your lips. “yeah, i can.” you shouldn't be surprised rafe changed everyone's schedules just to fit yours, the party is at his friend's house after all.

you're excited to finally meet them, you've heard bits and pieces from rafe, but have never gotten to actually see them.

you spend the entire time you're locked in your bedroom on friday night choosing exactly what to wear, curtains drawn tight closed, even blankets thrown over for extra precaution, not allowing any of the full moon to peek inside.

you realize you made the correct decision when saturday night comes and you open the door to rafe, his jaw visibly dropping.

--

“oh my god, i was totally picturing someone different when you were talking about topper.” you whisper to rafe after walking away from his friends to find a quieter spot. you didn't even have to tell rafe that you were starting to get overwhelmed, he seemed to sense it and pulled you away, not caring that kelce was still going on about something.

“what did you picture?” rafe asks, hoping the talking will distract you from all the excitement of the party, finding an empty guest bedroom and sitting down on the bed together.

“i don't know why but dark hair.” you shrug. “and i always pictured glasses.”

rafe laughs as he leans against you, your hand coming to his hair to scratch at his head, the soft movements of your fingers comforting you just as much as rafe.

“thanks for meeting them. and coming here with me.” rafe says earnestly. he's always liked parties of course, going wild and getting drunk or high or whatever he felt like that night, grinding against different girls and ultimately taking one to bed. rafe never put together how all of that was just a distraction, that he wasn't truly happy.

“you make me happy.” rafe says, turning to look at you, eyes still twinkling, reminding him of the ocean, the moon, the most stunning gemstone, and something so uniquely you.

“rafe.” you coo, pressing your lips together. you don't come out of the guest bedroom until the morning after, giggling quietly as you sneak out of toppers house, your hair a mess and clothes askew.

--

“i just realized ive never seen you in a swimsuit before.” rafes eyes look carefully over your body, having just taken off your coverup once your arrived at the spring again, rafe vowing not to jump in again, simply enjoying laying out and tanning on the boat.

you smile at rafe, gesturing for him to get closer.

rafe crawls over the bed area at the front of the boat to hover over you, pressing his lips tightly against yours. your hands feel his muscles, skirting from his chest down to his defined abs.

“you know, there's no one else out here.” you smile up at him as you reach lower.

“naughty girl.” rafe chuckles, glancing around to make sure no boats were within view.

once you're both finished, tired and panting, skin sheened with sweat, rafe finally brings up a question he's been dying to ask.

“why don't you like the water?”

you place your chin on your hand as you turn to look at rafe, taking a moment to formulate an answer. you hate having to lie to him, but you don't want to reveal your secret yet, for rafe to look at you any differently.

“i used to love to swim, to surf.” you say honestly. “but then something happened… and it's turned me away from it. i don't even like pools.”

rafe doesn't push for more, but his face does turn to a frown, thinking about whatever happened. he's guessing you got caught in a riptide or had a near drowning experience, he would never in a million years guess that you fell into a cave exploring an island after a fight with your parents and swam through a mysterious pool to get out, waking up to surf the next day only to transform into a mermaid.

“im sorry baby.” rafe says honestly. he wishes he could fix whatever happened, to enjoy riding on a jet ski with you, or relaxing on a sandbar.

“it's okay.” you shake your head. “i like being on the boat with you.” you say. “you make me feel comfortable.”

rafe pulls you back into him, not caring if you get an uneven tan line as he kisses you again. he swears you taste like honey with the slightest hint of sea salt.

--

“we got cyclones all the time back in australia.” you tell rafe, looking out your window. the sky looks normal, no sign of a tropical storm that's supposed to be blowing in soon, thankfully it never upgraded to a hurricane.

“do you want me to come over for it anyways?” rafe smiles at you as you finish braiding your hair. “hold you just in case you get scared.”

you laugh as you stand up, dramatically falling onto the bed, placing a fanned hand on your forehead. “oh, save me rafe cameron, save me!”

rafe laughs as well, pulling you against him. your shared laughter always turns into shared kisses. it's been months now that you've been in the outer banks. you swear your accent is even diminishing ever so slightly.

but you don't miss australia. you love your life here. spending nearly every day with rafe, exploring the island and the waterways, trying out different food spots and even letting rafe give you golf lessons, despite your inability to hit the ball straight.

--

you open the door as soon as there's a knock, expecting rafe, but your face falls when you see ward standing there.

“y/n, is rafe here?” he questions, entire body soaking wet from the storm, now covered by your front porch, dripping onto the welcome mat.

“no.” you shake your head. “he should be here any minute though…”

“shit.” wards eyes are wide with worry. “he took the boat out. i was hoping he docked it here.”

“the boat?” your voice rises as your anxiety does as well. “what is he doing on the water in this storm?”

“he likes to go to the spring at the start of storms to watch them roll down the coast, but he's always back before it hits. something must have happened to the boat, i don't know.” you can tell ward is rambling. “maybe he ran out of gas or got caught in something-”

“you have to go out there and save him! the waves-” you don't need to tell ward, you're sure he knows how bad the water is going to get, how violent the storm will make the sea, even in the shallow area rafe is in.

“i can't.” he shakes his head. “i already tried the coastguard but they won't go out until the storm is over.”

“he's your son!” you argue. “you go!”

“i can't.” you can hear the pain in wards voice. “if something happens to me, sarah and wheezie will have no one.”

you know it's not an appropriate reaction, but you're so mad, so worried about rafe being out there in this mess that you slam the door right in wards face.

you walk back through your house, past the empty kitchen and dark dining room to your living room, the glass doors revealing the storm raging outside. you make a decision in that split second, opening the door and barely shutting it behind you before you take off, rain hitting you in the face. you send out a prayer to the moon to allow you to reach the water before you transform. you make it onto the sand before face planting, having to awkwardly pull yourself forward into the water.

the second you're submerged, you take off, using your speed swimming abilities to navigate through the waters and strong tides. you go faster than ever, heading in the direction of the spring and sandbar, desperate to find your boyfriend and make sure he is safe.

you see through the rain at the surface of the water his boat, letting out a sigh of relief when you see he's anchored in his usual spot.

“rafe!” you call once your surface. “rafe!” you shout again, hoping he can hear you over the roar of the wind and rain.

rafe pops up, looking over the edge, wrench in hand, clearly trying to fix whatever is wrong with his boat, a smear of oil on his forehead not washing away with the rain.

“y/n?” rafe shouts. “what the fuck are you doing?”

rafe drops the wrench, rushing closer to the edge as he looks at you. your tail flicks up. there's no hiding it anymore. you don't want to anyways. 

“babe, get out of the water theres-” rafe blinks, his eyes squinting as he realizes its not some strange fish, but in fact covering your legs.

“get in the water rafe im going to swim us back home.” you shout, eyes turning to the sky, looking down the coast. the worst of the storm hasn't hit yet thankfully. with the size of the waves coming, it's sure to capsize his boat.

“baby-” rafe swallows harshly before jumping over the side. he may not understand what's going on, but he trusts you.

you grab onto rafe, keeping his head above the surface as you swim. it's slower getting back pushing him with you, but you go as fast as your tail will allow.

“you're a mermaid.” rafe says simply when you get back to shore, deciding to go to your house instead of tanneyhill, just in case ward is looking out his windows for rafe to return.

“go inside, ill be okay in the water.” you tell rafe, just needing to make that final couple steps onto the sand.

“im not leaving you out here.” rafe simply says, glancing to your tail before back at your face. he scoops you up in his arms, holding you tight to his chest as he carries you onto land, despite how heavy your tail is.

you hold onto rafes shoulders as he brings you inside. he sets you down on the plush rug in the living room as gently as possible.

“the tail doesn't go away until im dry again.” you lift your fin up and down as the rain pounds against the windows.

“ill get some towels.” rafe is ridiculously calm, coming back and patting you down in silence until your legs reappear.

“im sorry for not telling you earlier.” you say with a whisper, hand reaching out to hold rafes, shifting to sit up. “i-i love you rafe, but i understand if you want to break-”

you can't even finish your sentence as rafe leans in, pressing your lips together. “i love you too.”

--

“is that the right part?” you ask rafe, leaning yourself against the ladder as he fixes the engine on the boat, somehow it managed to stay anchored at the sandbar.

“we'll see right now.” rafe cranks the key, letting out a cheer when it turns on.

you smile as he jumps over the side in a dramatic celebration before resurfacing and shaking his wet hair out of his face.

“okay, you gotta show me again.” rafe stands on the sandbar as you swim around him, tail flicking back and forth.

you concentrate on a spot of water, lifting it into the air before popping it like a bubble, sending droplets raining down.

“you're the most amazing person ive ever met.” rafe says. “most amazing mermaid.” you correct him with a giggle and a splash of your tail.

taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @auryyz @raysmayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut

[goose8791]

Child of the storm

Note: SPOILERS, if you have not read the books. If you know the ending of the lightning thief then this will be fine but if you haven't or don’t want to be spoiled for the ending of the show do not read this. ( I’m looking out for you pookie <3) 

pairing: luke castellan x Poseidon Fem!reader

warnings: Arguing, I want you but I can’t have you trope, Angst, kissing 

"Hello?" Her voice came through the phone, accompanied by the crackling of static in Luke's ear.

"It's Luke," he responded, pressing his fingers into his tired eyes. Silence met his ears. "The camp is falling apart," he admitted, frustration evident in his tone. "The cabins are at each other's throats, and I'm lost on what to do."

"I know," she sighed on the other end. "Luke, I'm already being dragged into this mess by my dad. He says my brother is on a quest for the master bolt," she explained, a hint of exasperation in her voice. "I didn't even know I had a brother until this morning," she added with a hiss. 

Luke's stomach twisted with anger “why are you calling me” The words escaped through her gritted teeth. After a prolonged silence on the line, she finally took a breath.

"Luke, I've been covering for you for months," she admitted, frustration evident in her voice. "And now, my brother—someone I didn't even know existed—seems to be entangled in your idiocy." There was a pause, and Luke remained silent.

"They think he stole it," she seethed, frustration boiling over. "And we both know that's far from the truth." After taking a breath, Luke listened intently. Over ten months had passed since their last conversation or encounter, and he found solace in just hearing her voice. He wanted to savour every syllable that left her mouth.

"Luke," she sighed, a sense of resignation in her tone. "I can't help you. I can't keep doing this. I can't cover for you anymore. You're on your own." As she moved to end the call, panic filled Luke's voice.

"Wait! Please, just listen to me," he pleaded desperately. "NO, Luke, you listen to me. You've gone too far. I was with you from the beginning, but stealing the master bolt... Luke, I've changed, and you haven't," she declared firmly, leaving a pause. 

"Meet me at the beach in Jersey," he almost whispered, his voice carrying a sense of urgency and vulnerability. "What?" she questioned, confusion in her tone. "Just do it," he snapped, frustration seeping into his tone. "Please," he added, the desperation in his voice seeping into her ears. She took a moment to consider, the static in the phone creating a deafening backdrop to their strained conversation. "Fine," she agreed, the decision made after a brief pause, and then the line went silent on Luke's end.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Luke stands on the beach, the gritty sand slipping between his toes as he clutches his shoes in his hands. His gaze remains fixed on the expansive canvas of the ocean, its vastness both humbling and daunting. In the early evening, the ocean undergoes a captivating transformation, evolving into a symphony of rhythmic undulations.

As Luke shifts nervously on his feet, the subdued hues of the setting sun cast a gentle glow upon the water, bestowing an ethereal quality to the scene. The waves, reminiscent of graceful dancers, curl over in a serene ballet, each motion leaving a transient mark on the water's surface.

However, an undercurrent of change is visible. The ocean begins to deepen, the light blues of the day contorting into darker shades of black and navy. The waves, once a tranquil ballet, now adopt a more assertive stance, punching the shore with newfound vigour. Luke feels the shift in the air, the atmosphere charged with an unspoken intensity.

He stands there, caught between the ebb and flow of the changing tides, feeling the cool breeze play with his hair. The salt from the sea hangs in the air, sticking to his lashes. Above him, grey clouds gather, a subtle harbinger of the impending change. As if responding to some unseen force, the sea, with a sudden abruptness, flattens.

Amidst the quiet tension, her arrival becomes a beacon of contrasting serenity. Her hair, the first thing that catches his eye, emerges from the blues—sleek and shining like the ocean itself, capturing the remaining light. With each step, her shoulders appear, water cascading from the light armour she wears. Long strands of her hair, wrapped around her index finger, release droplets as she drains the water from it. The white foam from the now-subdued waves pools at her boots as she makes her way up the beach. 

Once her foot leaves the water, the ocean, as if resentful of her departure, reverts to its rageful intent, thrashing and spitting with renewed fervour. Undeterred, she walks up the beach, her head bowed slightly, and her hair moved to sit over her shoulder. Luke's eyes follow her, never leaving her figure as she almost struts up to him. 

“Look at you," he states, his gaze captivated by the armour that exudes the timeless elegance of Ancient Greek craftsmanship. Her breastplate, a gleaming testament forged from bronze, hosts intricate engravings portraying swirling waves and mythical sea creatures. The craftsmanship, exquisite in every detail, captures the fluidity of the ocean's dance with unparalleled artistry. Adorning her shoulders, the epaulettes, fashioned to resemble the majestic fins of a sea serpent, add an ethereal touch to the ensemble.

Her eyes, a reflection of the depths of her experiences, remain locked onto his. She's not the same 18-year-old girl who left camp a year ago, harbouring resentment toward the gods and grappling with self-doubt. She's transformed into a soldier for her father, and the weight of her newfound strength and purpose makes him feel almost small in her presence. 

"You are really your fathers daughter now, aren't you” he declares, his tone carrying a mixture of disbelief and frustration. She meets his gaze with unwavering intensity "I've changed, Luke," she retorts, her voice firm. "I'm not that naive girl who once questioned everything. I've seen the power, the responsibility that comes with being a part of this world." He scoffs, a bitter edge to his words, crossing his arms over his chest. "Responsibility? Do you hear yourself, More like blind servitude.You've become a pawn in their games, a soldier for a cause that doesn't care about you.”

Her eyes narrow, a spark of defiance igniting within her. "You're still clinging to that rebellious dream of a new age," she counters. “Do you hear yourself?” she mocks. His frustration mounts, and he takes a step closer, the distance between them narrowing. "What happened to forging our own path?” he states with a slight hiss, his eyes looking down onto her examining her face with his brown eyes “free from their whims?” he adds in an almost whisper, pushing back a strand of dark hair behind her ear, she moves her face away from his hand “You've abandoned that for a role that has you dancing to their tune." Luke continues, She squares her shoulders, a steely resolve in her demeanour. "I've embraced my heritage, Luke. I've found purpose and strength in it. Maybe it's time you stop fighting against it and see that." She steps back from him, and he goes to move after her, almost magnetised to her presents, but her eyes worn him. 

"If you wanted to meet me here just to argue, then I'm going because I can't—" Her words are cut short, interrupted by Luke as he reaches out, gently catching her hand. "Because I can't bear the thought of losing you again," he admits, his voice carrying a blend of vulnerability and longing.

His gaze searches hers for a trace of understanding. "We used to dream of a life together," he continues, his thumb gently tracing circles on the back of her hand. "I miss that, miss us. And if this is the only way I get to be near you, even if it means arguing, then I'll take it. Because not having you in my life feels like an endless storm." he admits his eyes burning through hers. 

She looks back at him, a realisation dawning in her eyes as if she's just understood the depth of what love truly means. In that moment, she sees everything reflected in his gaze — the longing, the vulnerability, the unwavering devotion. His hands holding hers speak volumes, and the words that escape his lips carry the weight of a love that has weathered storms.

To him, she is everything — a constellation in the vast expanse of his universe. She can feel it in the warmth of his hands, hear it in the soft timbre of his voice. He has been the constant, the anchor in the tumultuous sea of their shared existence.

Yet, as she stands there, she recognizes that love is a complex tapestry, woven with threads of both joy and pain. He was her sun, a source of warmth and brightness, but the sea called to her, and she found herself in its depths and storms. The day she turned eighteen and was claimed by her father, the sea embraced her, and she felt a sense of belonging she had long yearned for. She learned to shine not only for him but also for herself, finding her identity in the ebb and flow of the waves.

"I can lose everything but not you… oh gods, not you," he almost says to himself, his words carried away by the wind and the sound of the waves. Her ears barely catch the sentiment, but her body reacts before her brain can intervene. Her arm slings around his neck, and her lips crash into his. In that moment, the world around them fades into the background.

His hands find her waist, pulling her closer as they share a desperate and breathless kiss. It's a collision of emotions, a manifestation of the tangled feelings that have lingered between them. When they finally break apart, he places his forehead against hers and closes his eyes.

"You fix this mess... with the master bolt, with my father and Zeus… and then maybe we could have this," she almost whispers, her voice a tender murmur against the backdrop of the ocean's symphony. "We could have us."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[papiliotao]

꒰ 𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒊𝒕 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 !! ✩࿐

pairings: albedo, alhaitham, childe, cyno, heizou, kazuha, scaramouche, and xiao x gn!reader (separate)

content: fluff, very light angst in xiao’s and childe’s (they still ends with fluff though), kissing, established relationship

summary: in which your boyfriend tells you that he loves you, but instead of returning his sentiments, you decide to mess with him by not saying it back.

a/n: i said that i’d post soon like two weeks ago... oops. nonetheless, i hope you have fun reading this!

₊˚ପ ALBEDO

“What’s the matter?” Albedo asks, tilting his head slightly as the words fall from the tip of his tongue. Vivid teal eyes fill with hints of concern that dance through his irises loftily in a flurry of iridescent petals.

Albedo is worried, but he doesn’t want to make a big deal out of nothing. For now, he’ll test the waters of an unexplored ocean and scope out the situation, hoping that he’s just reading too much into things.

“Nothing,” you answer, tilting your head innocently as if you don’t have a clue what Albedo’s talking about.

Your boyfriend is perplexed, but he’s not an idiot. He’s often been regarded as a genius, and he’s spent almost as much time reading the sentimental words engraved into your heart as he has conducting his experiments. Albedo is absolutely captivated by you because you never fail to leave him fascinated and awe-struck. So naturally, he’s managed to pick up on all your subtle habits and all your strange quirks.

And right now, the expression on your face tells him that something is off. A missing brushstroke on a panoramic painting. A sour note in an otherwise enchanting composition. A sparkling daydream where you feel just a little too lucid.

You know exactly what he’s talking about. You’re just feigning ignorance.

Now all Albedo has to do is figure out why.

“I see,” he whispers under his breath in a tone so soft that even a light breeze would whisk his words off to neverland.

Albedo’s gaze remains fixated on you, his eyebrows scrunched and eyes narrowed.

Then a barely-audible chuckle leaves your lips. You stifle it in an instant, but Albedo has committed the melodic sound of your laugh to memory.

And suddenly everything makes sense.

You’re trying to get a reaction out of him, but sadly for you, you seem to have forgotten one key detail. Albedo is used to solving issues in a calm manner, his temperament akin to aquatic drafts that gently caress the surface of a crystal ocean. Cool and controlled.

“Ah, I understand now,” he says, and your eyes widen. The expression on your face rivals the beauty of a night sky dotted with various asterisms. You’re utterly ethereal. The corners of Albedo’s lips turn up, graced with a smile that shines with the light of a million stars. “You thought you could fool me, but unfortunately, you just gave yourself away.”

A pause. The tension within the air thaws, and the atmosphere becomes light-hearted once more.

“I’m not mad,” he clarifies, staring you dead in the eye, “but I would, however, appreciate it if you could make it up to me.”

₊˚ପ ALHAITHAM

Alhaitham is unfazed.

He sees right through you. You didn’t seriously think this was going to work on him, right? It didn’t take him long to get used to your antics when you first got together, and although you haven’t tried to play as many pranks on him as of late, it’s difficult to erase the devious grin you don whenever you’re up to something from his mind. Nor has the sly look in your eyes slipped from his memory.

Your boyfriend’s ability to read you is almost prophetic — a prediction of the future, yet no stars are read and no omens are required. He makes his predictions based on logic and logic alone.

And unfortunately for you, you don’t possess the same capabilities.

When you ignore Alhaitham’s honeyed words, turning your back to walk away with a coldness reminiscent of the farthest outreaches of the galaxy, he simply shrugs it off and heads to your living room to read a book. He sinks comfortably into a plush armchair, knowing full well that you’ll be back in no time.

Just four pages in, and Alhaitham hears the sound of footsteps echoing down the hallways, filling your shared home with a familiar sort of music. It’s only a few more seconds before he feels a tap on his shoulder — a touch that brings him back to reality entirely, away from the realm of scholarly pursuits.

“Is there anything you need?” Alhaitham asks, meeting your gaze with eyes tinted a turquoise found only in the most pristine of diamond waters. He remains as stoic as ever, not allowing so much as a single hint of emotion to show through his front.

You stare at him, dumbfound, for a few moments. Alhaitham knows what you’re thinking. He’s normally so observant — nothing ever slips past him, and yet this time, he failed to acknowledge the fact that you didn’t respond to his ‘I love you’. Besides that, it’s rather rare for Alhaitham to allow those words to leave his lips in the first place. He prefers to reserve them for tender moments, times where it feels like the only beings present in the vast universe are the two of you. You expected him to be more alert, and yet, Alhaitham has subverted all your expectations.

And it’s all part of his plan.

But then your eyes widen, filling with a light signaling that you’ve just experienced an epiphany. Alhaitham can tell that you’ve realized what he’s up to, and that your little scheme has backfired entirely.

“About earlier,” you start, assuming that Alhaitham already knows what you’re referring to.

Alhaitham smiles.

“What about it?” he questions you, acting oblivious even though both of you know Alhaitham would never be that clueless.

“You acted like you didn’t notice on purpose, didn’t you?” You’re pouting, but your irritation is clearly feigned. Alhaitham knows you like the back of his hand, and although messing with you produces some entertaining results, he would never go so far as to hurt you.

A rare smile graces Alhaitham’s face, as stunning as vivid ribbons of celestial light that compose an illustrious aurora. He’s not typically one to express emotion, but he can’t help himself. You’re just far too irresistible, and if there’s one thing he has a soft spot for, it’s you.

“My apologies,” he speaks in his usual calm tone. “I just couldn’t help myself — not when I knew I’d be able to bear witness to such an adorable display of anger.”

₊˚ପ CHILDE

The silence that hangs in the air is tangible — a thick veil of unspoken words, all consolidated into glacial fractals that cause the atmosphere to glaze over. An icy sort of tension permeates the moment, crystallizing the ambience and morphing it into something fragile.

And everything shatters when your boyfriend speaks.

“[Name],” he frowns, gazing at you with periwinkle hues devoid of illumination. He sighs, swallowing his pride. “Say it back. Please.”

A blank look fills your eyes, morphing once-lively galaxies into monochromatic jumbles of nonsense. For once, Childe can’t tell what you’re thinking, and that scares him. Either you’re messing with him, and you’re an exceptionally good actor, or you’re being serious.

“Say what back?” you say, cluelessness filling your tone filling your tone.

Childe is dumbfounded. It’s true that he tells you he loves you quite often, but he didn’t think that you’d become so accustomed to it that his words would no longer hold any weight. Although he finds it slightly odd, he supposes that even the most precious of glittering gemstones becomes mundane when fortune is the norm. But that doesn’t mean he’s any less disappointed.

“You really can’t tell?” he sighs yet again. He averts his gaze, looking anywhere but at you.

You shake your heart, and yet as you do, he catches a subtle flash of gilded lightning flash through your irises, setting your expression ablaze with hints of mischief. It vanishes as quickly as it appeared, but Childe knows what he saw. The initial melancholy that gripped his heart with cold fingers borne of frost dissipates, and in its place, amusement arises.

Silence. Shock. Disbelief.

And then he bursts out in a fit of sonorous laughter, the sheer volume of each chuckle rivalling that of an intense tempest.

Your eyes widen. It seems that you didn’t expect to be found out, but Childe has known you for long enough to be able to read your emotions. He’s spent an eternity exploring every nuance of your personality — every subtlety and every quirk, the good, the bad, and the ugly. And he loves every part of you.

That’s why he never fails to express his adoration whenever the opportunity is presented in evanescent moments like these. Although times like these sound like they’d be rare, they’re not when he’s by your side. Every second is filled with bliss, and despite the instances where azure skies are painted a dull grey and sapphire oceans turn tumultuous, he always knows that everything will be alright.

“I should have known,” he says. “You were just teasing me.”

Busted.

In less than a minute, your boyfriend has exposed all your plans, and you have no choice but to admit defeat.

“I was,” you admit, hanging your head.

Childe laughs, but once he settles down, he cups your chin in one hand and lifts your head to meet his gaze. With a surprising amount of tenderness, he closes the distance between your lips. Inch by inch.

You lean in as well. Time slows, and he forgets how to breathe. Even though he was the one who initiated the kiss, he finds you utterly enchanting. The beating of his heart speeds up, becoming erratic, desperate for the sensation of your soft lips pressed against his.

And then it happens. Although Childe had been looking for a verbal affirmation of love, this is even better. Fireworks seem to burst in the edges of his vision, painting the world in vivid shades of phosphorescent crimson and rose.

₊˚ପ CYNO

“Say it back. There’s no need to continue on with this prank of yours because cy-no you’re only joking,” he says. His voice is as monotone as ever, as tranquil as cerulean seas beneath a sky dotted with snowy white clouds.

His words provoke no response from you. You simply stare at him, too shocked to speak.

“Do you get it? Because Cyno is my name, and ‘cy’ sounds a little bit like ‘I’ while ‘no’ sounds like ‘know’.”

Cyno watches as your features scrunch in a twist of disbelief, embarrassment, and fear. He internally chuckles, secretly delighting in the adorable expression adorning your face.

Your reactions are always priceless, worth more than the most precious of gold and the most luxurious of diamonds. Because basking in the splendor of your smile is true opulence.

“Okay, okay,” you giggle, the embers of mischief within your eyes flickering, “you win. Please stop with the puns. I can’t take it anymore.” Your tone is playful, light.

The corners of Cyno’s lips turn up slightly as a smile graces his features. He’s well aware that your exasperation is feigned — nothing more than an exaggeration fabricated in order to tease him a little. Besides, if you didn’t like his sense of humour, you wouldn’t even be dating him right now.

“Victory is mine,” Cyno speaks triumphantly in a tone full of a hyperbolic sort of grandeur.

He feels light-hearted for the first time in a while, and it’s in that moment, that fraction of a second, that Cyno realizes something.

Your presence is liberating.

When he’s with you, he’s free from the troubles of daily life. With you, the responsibilities that go hand-in-hand with his status are put on hold, allowing him some time to truly experience what it’s like to be unburdened. With you, he’s not the General Mahamatra, one of the most renowned figures within Sumeru. 

He’s just Cyno.

He feels his grin widen as he opens his mouth to speak once more.

“I love you,” he repeats his words from earlier, his tone one of pure adoration and bliss. The beating of his heart picks up, setting a new tempo that seems just right for the moment, a perfect backing for a myriad of silent declarations.

That seems to do the trick because you admit defeat without hesitation and utter the same words back with an extra one following in tandem.

“I love you too.”

₊˚ପ HEIZOU

“Oh? Do you not love me anymore?” Heizou confronts the problem head-on, feigning sadness. A smirk spreads across his face when he sees your confused expression, but he manages to erase it in an instant, deceiving even the eyes of his partner.

You should have known better than to play a prank of this sort on him. After all, Heizou’s always been one to turn your tricks against you.

As soon as your eyes widen and your jaw drops, Heizou knows that he’s won. To his relief, you don’t notice the way his verdant pools of peridot sparkle with mischief. You’re too absorbed in your panic to sense that anything is off.

He has to continuously stifle bouts of laughter. Heizou finds your reactions slightly too cute.

“N-No! I didn’t mean it like that!” you blurt out in a tone laced with desperation. “I’m sorry. I should have known that you would have noticed something was off. You’re always so perceptive,” you speak sheepishly, averting your gaze. “I just wanted to see how you’d react if I didn’t say it back…”

Heizou chuckles.

“You’re too cute, darling,” he muses, staring you straight in the eyes. “Fortunately for you, my intuition told me that you were just messing with me.”

You groan.

“Of course you figured it out,” you sigh.

Heizou can’t help but mentally agree. He’s already used to solving mysteries, and the fact that the two of you are so close doesn’t quite work to your advantage. Your boyfriend knows you like the back of his hand, and unfortunately for you, he enjoys the thrill of piecing together the puzzles you craft in an attempt to elicit reactions from him.

“I think I deserve a reward for cracking this case,” he says, pointing a finger at his lips.

When Heizou sees your eyes light up, glowing with the opalescent radiance of a nebula, he knows he’s about to get what he wants.

With one quick movement, you lean in nervously to place a shy kiss on Heizou’s lips, clearly still embarrassed by your failure. When you pull away, you take a few steps backwards before gazing deep into your boyfriend’s eyes. In that moment, Heizou realizes that the sentiments swirling through your irises — feelings embodied by the warm hues of a dying sunset — are nothing but sincere.

₊˚ପ KAZUHA

Kazuha knows you’re teasing him. From the subtle grin you’re trying to hide to the mischievous light dancing within your star-flecked irises, it’s not difficult to discern that you’re teasing him.

But despite everything, he decides to play along.

“I love you,” he repeats, gently taking your hand in his. He plants a gentle kiss on the back of your hand, a charming habit more than a calculated measure.

Kazuha glances up at you and smiles — a gentle expression that lights up your day with rays of golden sunshine. In a single flash, your cheekiness vanishes, and instead, an awestruck gaze paints itself across your face.

Kazuha suppresses a giggle. Far too often, he finds himself enamoured with you, especially when you’re flustered. He attempts to memorize the sight before him, engraving every dip and curve of your facial features into his memories.

You’re just far too endearing for him to resist, and besides, you’re his muse. Kazuha isn’t exactly sure how he knows it, but somehow, he’s certain that someday this moment will undergo a metamorphosis within a hall of crystallized memories, transforming from a fond recollection of the past to strings of eloquently phrased words — a haiku.

You look absolutely captivated by him, and although he didn’t intentionally try to send your heart into a frenzy of vivid daydreams and rose-tinted adoration, he’s glad you find him so attractive. A few seconds pass before you give in.

“I love you too,” you whisper breathlessly, grinning at Kazuha before leaving for the day. As soon as you’re out the door, Kazuha chuckles, eyes containing the essence of autumn mingling with a bright moonglow, swirling with amusement.

“I love you more.”

₊˚ପ SCARAMOUCHE

Scaramouche is confused, but he tries his best not to show it. He’s fairly certain that the two of you haven’t argued recently, so why is it that you’re not reciprocating his affections?

Although Scaramouche acts like he doesn’t care sometimes, he knows all your small habits. And as your lover, he finds it odd that you aren’t uttering those three powerful words back. That coupled with the fact that it’s rather difficult for him to express his feelings makes him desperate for a response.

“Are you forgetting something?” he grumbles, not wanting to seem too desperate. Deep down, his emotions cause whirlwinds of conflicting thoughts to swirl in his mind.

He watches as you blink — slowly, gradually as if you want to stretch seconds into eons. A frown etches itself into his forehead, and he feels irritation begin to overtake his heart. Storm clouds, tinted an ominous grey, overwhelm the ambience.

Finally, after what feels like forever, you shake your head.

“I don’t think so,” you tell him.

Scaramouche’s features twist into a pout, and he crosses his arms in front of his chest. Yet at the same time, your boyfriend is embarrassed beyond measure. He feels his cheeks heating up, and he’s absolutely sure that shades of pink reminiscent of a sunrise have begun to dust his pale cheeks.

“Fine,” he breathes out, rolling his eyes and turning away. “Forget it. I’ll see you tonight.” Scaramouche tries to brush it off casually, attempting to erase the odd experience from memory.

He want nothing more than to hear you say those three words back, but he’s far too proud to admit it.

He nearly walks away before he feels a firm grip on his shoulder.

“Wait,” you say. “I was just kidding.”

Scaramouche groans. He turns around in order to face you.

“How irritating,” he sighs. He brushes his hair, silken strands spun of midnight, away from in front of his eyes. Scaramouche can’t believe you were able to sense his vulnerability.

You giggle upon seeing Scaramouche’s grumpy face.

“You owe me for this,” he states.

“I know,” you whisper, stepping closer to him and leaning in.

Scaramouche feels his breath hitch, and before he knows what’s happening, the sensation of your warm lips against his overwhelms his senses. Sparks fly in the edges of his vision, and soon enough, a passionate fire is set ablaze in a grand display of crimson elation.

Although you didn’t say anything in response when he told you he loved you, your wordless exchange of adoration speaks volumes.

I love you.

₊˚ପ XIAO

Xiao sucks in a quiet breath as you turn away from him. It’s not often that he expresses his affection verbally, and the fact that you’re barely responding to his declaration of love is unnerving.

He looks down, strands of seafoam obscuring his gaze, blocking eyes of honeyed amber from your line of sight. However, he raises his head after only a few seconds, attempting to ignore the feeling of unease creeping up on him, freezing his very being with a subtle chill. It’s barely there — a pain nowhere near the sting of a frostbite — yet it still eats away at him, reminding him again and again that something is wrong.

But although Xiao wants to ask you if anything’s bothering you or if he did something to upset you, he can’t. Translating his emotions into words feels far too difficult, especially because in all honestly, this situation is probably no big deal — or so he tells himself. Your nonchalance contrasts with his overthinking, causing doubt to well up within his mind.

In the end, he allows you to leave, wallowing within an aquamarine sea of thoughts. The world has been painted a watercolour blue. Although he refuses to admit it, melancholy overtakes Xiao’s heart, as he’s now both confused and lost.

Did he upset you?

The idea doesn’t seem too outlandish. Xiao’s never been good at interpreting emotions or expressing them, and it’s one of his greatest insecurities as your boyfriend. He’s gotten better over time, but there are times where he still worries about being too oblivious to your feelings.

Unfortunately for Xiao, you’re out for the day, so there’s plenty of time for negative thoughts to ruminate in his mind, festering until they reach the point of becoming a soulless black hole, draining every bit of confidence from him.

As the skies outside the glass windows of your shared home begin to tint with a rosy blush, and a golden light paints the world in shades of ephemeral warmth, Xiao becomes restless. You’ll be back any moment, and then, he’ll have to face you. Anticipation causes his heart to beat in a frenzy as the minute of your arrival approaches.

And sure enough, you return at the exact time you always do.

As soon as you walk through the door, Xiao walks over to greet you, gauging your reactions. When you see him, the corners of your lips turn up in an ethereal smile, and the rest of your face lights up.

Your delighted expression takes Xiao aback. He didn’t expect such a pleasant greeting after the events of this morning, but he brushes it off, allowing a grin to dance across his features in tandem, reciprocating your look of absolute adoration.

“I missed you,” he whispers, stepping closer to you in order to gently take your hand in his.

To assure himself that you’re here in the moment. That nothing’s wrong.

He sighs contently when you don’t pull away. The solace of your intertwined fingers is akin to the tidings of a viridescent spring after countless days of pure white dusting a panoramic landscape. It’s a breath of fresh air after eons spent hyperventilating in the frigidness of a crystallized wasteland, silently fading away amongst seas of sparkling snow.

Xiao can finally breathe again.

And when he laters asks why you didn’t return the three precious words he uttered under his breath earlier that day, as the sun had just begun bathing the world in aureate light, your answer causes his face to heat up.

It was nothing more than a prank.

disappearing back into my gremlin cave for another fifty years now!! thank you so much for reading!

[quintinh43]

Simple Truths Pt. 2 | Quinn Hughes

Summary: Part 2 of simple truths, aka the aftermath of Y/n's confession. [Find Part 1. Here]

Pairings: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Some angst, depictions of anxiety, smut (Very fade to black)

Notes: Part twoooooo!! I'm excited!! Hope yall enjoy. Love Soph.

Wc: 2.2k

---

Everything sounded muted, like his head was under water. It feels like his feet are cemented to the floor. He can't move. His ears are ringing, with the sound of your voice.

I have loved you for six years. I haveloved you for six years. I have lovedyou for six years. I have loved you for sixyears. Ihavelovedyouforsixyears.

He wants to say I love you too, Y/n, with every fiber of my being. But for some reason, the space where you were standing is empty, your absence is mocking. Gone, gone gonegonego-

Every overwhelming feeling that he came to you with last night floods his system like a tidal wave. He failed you. Quinn's lungs are being sqeezed. There is not enough room for air in his chest. All he wants to do is collapse into the safety of your arms and have you breathe the air back into his lungs.

But you're gone. His safe haven has run away, and it's his fault. Quinn counts to three and breathes. He steels himself. Now is not the time for panicking. He needs to find you right fucking now.

In his brief catatonic state, he recalls the sound of the apartment door opening and closing. With that knowledge, he reaches for his phone and calls your contact. On the first ring, he hears your phone buzz beside your abandoned dinner.

"Fuck" he murmers, the panic swelling in his chest. It's cold, and dark, and you're outside all alone with no way for anyone to reach you.

Quinn slips on his shoes and jacket, as quickly as he can with shaking hands, and then he's running. Taking the stairs two at a time because he needs to be with you right now.

The cool air eases the tension in his lungs a bit, and he feels his senses coming back to him. He's sprinting. In the direction of the park where you like to run, and somehow in his bones, he knows that's where you'll be.

And then, it's raining. It starts as a drop here and there against his face as he runs.  Within minutes, the light drizzle becomes a full-on downpour. It's as if the sly knows he's in pain. All Quinn can find himself thinking is that he doesn't remember if you took a jacket when you left.

He makes it to the park, clothes soaked complearly through and teeth chattering of their own accord. The thick downpour makes it hard to see more than a few feet infront of him. But as he walks through the park, he catches the outline of your silhouette standing in the sand and staring out at the ocean.

He's sprinting again. And then he's hovering in front of you, heartbreaking as he takes in your shaking form. Raindrops and tears mix on your cheeks, and your breath hitches from crying. He can't tell if you're shaking from the rain or the sobbing. Maybe it's both.

Before you can take off again, he grabs your wrist, pulling you into his chest, wrapping an arm around you to keep you there. His eyes search yours desperately, for something other than hurt.

"I love you too" he murmers, brushing the soft pad of his thumb across your cheek, wiping away tears and raindrops alike.

"You love me?" Your voice is small, so unsure, unwilling to latch onto the hope of his words lest you heard him wrong. He nods, "with every fiber of my soul Y/n, I love you so so much"

A sob racks your chest, and this time it's relief.

"Im gonna kiss you now" he says softly. Then he's pressing his lips against yours. Its not like the movies. There is no fireworks in your stomach. His lips are cold and wet from the rain, but somehow it's better than anything you could've imagined.

Kissing Quinn feels like coming home.

It's comfort after a long day at work. It's cooking dinner together in the evenings. It's cheering him on as he absolutely dominates a game. It's running together in the mornings, and it's sinking into eachothers arms at night.

"Y/n" his lips move against yours, not wanting to pull away just yet "you are my person. You're the person I want to come home to every night, the person In my corner, cheering me on. You make me better. And if it wasn't for you I wouldn't be who I am today."

He kisses the corner of your mouth before he continues "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't tell you I loved you sooner. I never wanted to make you feel that way" his voice is weighed down with vulnerability.

"It's ok, Quinn," you murmur, brushing his wet hair out of his face. You aren't sure if that's the right response, but it's all you have. Because truthfully, everything will be ok. Because now you have Quinn. "It's ok, everything is ok." You press a kiss to his cheek."You make everything ok."

He wants to more, but the words won't come. He takes your hand, placing it against his chest. "Can you feel the love I have for you?" He asks, quiet, desperate. His words are failing him, but he needs you to know.

And in that moment, with your hand on his chest, it's as if he's opened his heart and is pouring all his love into you. It floods your body with enough warmth to chase away the chill of the rain. You nod, hands caressing his cheeks, and you pull him into another kiss that conveys what words can not.

The two of you are so lost in each other, that when thunder booms, you jump. Teeth clanging against eachother. Quinn hisses, touching his bleeding lip.

"Sorry, I'm sorry," you mumble, cheeks burning with embarrassment as you gently swipe the blood away from his lip. We wrap's a hand around your wrist with a throaty chuckle, placing a kiss to your palm.

"Let's get home," he smiles. He doesn't ask 'my place or yours' because as long as you're together, you are home.

He unzips his jacket and holds it over your heads, pulling you into his side. The walk back to your apartment is silent, but it's comfortable. The flashes of lighting dance across Quinns face in the most alluring way.

"Why do you suppose it took so long for us to confess our love for each other?" You ask quietly. You don't expect him to have an actual answer, but you want to hear his thoughts.

Quinn shrugs. "Everything happens for a reason. Who knows why it took so long. Maybe it's so we could have a super romantic and epic story at our wedding about I chased you into the rain to confessed my undying love for you" he smiles, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You snort, leaning your head against his shoulder. "Yeah, the only thing that could make the story more epic and romatic is if one of us got hit by a car or something."

Quinns glare is so full of heat that it scares you a little."Y/n, don't even joke about that,"

"Sorry" you mutter sheepishly, tapping your fingers against his arm.

The walk back to your apartment continues to be uneventful thank God , unless you count the doorman glaring at the two of you for dripping all over the apartment lobby and elevator.

You pat your pockets, looking for your keys. Unfortunately, you didn’t think to bring in your distressed takeoff. "I don't have keys," you mutter, looking at Quinn with hope that he had his.

Thankfully, Quinn had left his keys in his jacket pocket from earlier. He unlocks the door, ushering you in front of him. Your stomach rumbles as you lay eyes on the beautiful dinner you and Quinn had made. "Let's shower and then eat," you say, dragging him towards the bathroom.

"Wait- i- togeather?" He whispers, a dusting of pink across his cheeks as you turn on the shower and start to pull your shirt over your head.

"Quintin, if you think I'm letting you out of arms reach for the rest of the night, you are very, very incorrect," you say, tossing your shirt in your laundry basket.

"Are you sure, baby? I don't wanna make you uncomfortable." he says softly, reaching for you. His hands dance over your shivering shoulders. Your skin is so so cold.

"Quinn," you throw your arms around his neck, dragging him down for a kiss, "You could never make me uncomfortable. Now get naked baby," you say, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively. 

Quinn grins at you and kisses you one more time before stripping off his wet clothes and tossing them alongside yours in the laundry bin. His eyes rake over your body appreciatively as you grab his hand and drag him into the shower.

Even though this is new territory for you both, it feels natural. It's not awkward, nither of you feel self-conscious. You sigh as the warm water hits your shoulders, and your teeth finally stop chattering.

"Let me show you how much I love you," Quinn whispers against your shoulder.

Your stomach flutters at his offer, "as much as I would love that, our first time is not gonna be in the shower," you say, planting a small kiss on his collarbone. Quinn gives you a soft smile and nods. A promise glinting in his stormy eyes.

You beg Quinn to let you wash his hair. And it's the best thing he's experienced. Decidedly, he is never washing his own hair again. And when he takes the loofah from your hands and scrubs you down with such care, decidedly you are never scrubbing yourself down again.

You change both changes into sweats and hoodies, still cold from being in the rain for quite some time. "I'm starved, let's eat."

Quinn pops the steak in the oven to reheat it, while you toss the veggies in a frying pan. Once the food is ready, the two of you curl up on the couch, in favour of sitting at the table. True to your words you are not willing to let him more than an arms length distance away from you. And nither is he.

Once the two of you have finished eating, you load the plates into the dishwashe together and then go back to the couch. Quinn flops down and opens his arms towards you. You flop down ontop of him with a grin, laying your head on his chest. His hands dip under your (his) hoodie and trace patterns into your skin.

"Do you still want me to move in with you?" You ask, playing with the hair at the base of his neck.

"Of course baby, even more so now." He hums pressing a kiss to top of your head, "tomorrow is just morning practice so if its ok with you, I'll bribe some of the guys into helping me move your stuff?"

You scrunch your nose. "I don't wanna break my lease. It's done in June."

"I'll pay it off"

"Quinn, I can't let y-"

He pulls back to look at you, "No listen, before we got together I basically lived at your place half the time anyways. At this point we are both gonna be paying rent and living in one apartment. Let me just pay off your lease." There's a pleading look in his eyes. "Please" he whispers, tracing his knuckles over your cheek gently.

You sigh in defeat, his reasoning makes sense, but you'll still feel bad if pays off your lease. "I'll think about it."

"That's all I need, baby." he grins, pulling you in for a kiss. Ever since the two have gotten back to the apartment, you have pulled each other for kisses at every chance possible.

You turn over, straddling his lap, and lean down to kiss him. Your hands dip under his hoodie, warm against his abs. "Are we doing this now?" He asks breathlessly as you trail kisses down his jaw.

"If you want to" you murmur against his skin.

"Yes, yes I do want to" he groans out, as you grind your hips against his. His hands find their way under the waistband of your sweats, and he grips your hips almost bruisingly, controlling the movements of your hips.

"Bedroom," you murmer, attaching your lips to his once again as he stands up, cradling you in his arms and carries you to the bedroom. He tosses you on the bed, and in the time that you are apart from each other, you both hurriedly strip off your clothing, tossing it aside.

"You're so beautiful," he murmers, crawling between your legs. He trails kisses along your jaw, down your neck and to your chest, while his hand creeps up your thigh.

"Show me how much you love me," you whisper, locking your legs around his hips. Quinn nods fervently. He kneels between your the alter of your legs and worships the temple that is your body, like he is the greatest sinner who walked the earth.

You fall asleep tangled in eachothers arms, and in the morning, when Quinn tries to convice you to skip your run in favour of a different type of cardio, you agree heartily as you grind against him. Quinn laughs as you drag the sheets over your heads and kiss him like he is air, and you are drowning.

And now that Quinn is yours, your heart feels full. Your home feels stable, and your smile is unbreakable. The future doesn't look so scary with Quinn by your side.

---

Taglist: @coldheartedmar @luviesjac

[unholyhelbig]

oversight part 6 ??

Title: The Oversight [Part 6/7]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Wordcount: 6237

Warnings: SMUT UNDER 18 DNI, oral (r recieving), Dom/sub dynamic, slight mommy kink if you squint, fingering (r recieving), and horrible grammar

[A/n: This took literally all day because I hadn't started it until this morning, and it's now 12am. Good thing it's -15 degrees outside and I physically cannot leave my home. I haven't written Nat smut... ever. Go easy on me.]

[ Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven ]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

Natasha Romanoff knew how to handle a gun. She tested its weight; the mix of metal and plastic was familiar to her as lungs were to breathe. As ocean was to water, as sky was to rolling thunder. Handling a gun, especially while loaded, was a delicate process. She’d stroke the trigger, ghost her fingers over the barrel and expertly tease the weapon into doing exactly what she wanted.

Natasha Romanoff was not one to do anything without calculation, not one to do something without complete control. But, the soft noises that escaped your throat as she nipped across your jawline and licked over the burning bites to soothe the smallest bit of pain made her stop thinking. Stop calculating. It threatened to take her control.

Your back was up against the cool mahogany of her bedroom door. You’d barely gotten a chance to close it before her hands were all over you, and that floral scent invaded your lungs. You were frantic to pull her as close as possible, to feel her body fully against yours. You needed Natasha Romanoff more than you needed life itself. You needed her inside of you.

She seemed just as beside herself. Her nails ran up and down your sides, brushing against the exposed skin that the slit in that beautiful emerald dress provided. You were enamored with it earlier in the night. Now you were grateful for all the exposed parts of you, the hot touches and breathless kisses.

“So needy, malyshka” Natasha whispered between kisses. “You need me to take care of you, don’t you?”

Yes. You wanted that more than you could vocalize. Instead, you let out a groan that was muffled by her lips against yours. You understood the irony, feeling so safe with a woman who was one of the most feared within the city.

She reminded you in a gentle growl “words, baby, use your words.”

“Please, I need you.”

Natasha didn’t need another green light. She hauled you into her arms in a feat of strength, backing you onto the bed. The sheets were cool against your bare legs. The last time you’d been in this bed, you were in much worse shape. You preferred this, coming undone with Natasha’s wandering hands and damp kisses.

You hungrily pushed her jacket from her shoulders, brushing the pads of your fingers over her defined muscles. She smiled against your lips, throwing the expensive garment to the floor. You made quick work of the buttons down the front of her waistcoat, barely exposing the curve of her chest before her fingers reached up and grabbed yours.

“You’re far too clothed, darling.”

The objection was soft, and you were quick to comply when she pulled the dress up to expose your thighs. You lifted your hips and she moved the dress the rest of the way over your head, tossing it to the side. Her eyes raked hungrily over your dips and curves, hands caressing your sides, watching as your pulled air in and let it out in excitement.

“You knew this was going to happen?” Natasha said with a wolfish smile as she took in the lacy bra and panties that you wore.

“Hoped, really.”

“Do you have a safe word?”

“Do I need one?”

Her smile widened as she expertly slid the buttons from their proper place and pulled her waistcoat off. You were met with tanned skin, with a toned stomach and breasts that you itched to palm. She started to kiss along your neckline, down your chest, and the very start of your stomach. Expertly, she unhooked your own bra, tossing it in the same direction as your dress.

Natasha bit and sucked in the right places and your back arched in eager response. It distracted you from her wandering hands. You shuddered as she pushed past the elastic of your underwear, she brushed her finger up the length of your slit, and a breath got stuck in your throat.

“So wet already, just from a little teasing.”

“Natasha,” You moaned her name.

You squirmed as her touch moved lower, she kissed along your waistline, moved your underwear down your legs until you were fully exposed to her. She let out a content breath that was hot against your center, you fought the urge to press against her.

“Zaychik, I have a few rules,”

“Anything, just… anything.”

She kissed against your thighs, ever so close to you. It was driving you nuts, and while you trusted Natasha with your life, with your sanity, it was you who was struggling with control. You craved her touch and then resented how much you relied on it. You had never wanted anything more in your life.

“You belong to me. And that means, you can only cum when I give you permission.” You whined under her soft ministrations, bucking your hips forward. She bit hard against the expanse of your skin, enough to bruise. “Am I clear?”

“Y-yes, yes. Clear. Crystal. Baby please.”

Natasha hummed against you. “Good girl.”

Your cheeks heated at the positive reinforcement and your fingers curled into the expensive sheets. A gasp escaped you when her tongue met your folds. She licked expertly across the length of your center and an entirely pornographic noise left your throat when she stopped at your clit, sucking softly.

You could feel your heartbeat in your chest, pounding against your ribs in a perfect rhythm. Natasha slid a singular finger into you. It was painfully slow, and far from enough to fill you up. You resisted the urge to grind further into her. Another finger, another soft noise.

A combination of her quick movements and attention mouth brought you close to the edge embarrassingly fast. You had thought of this moment for months, how skilled she was, how your naked body would be writhing under her touch exactly as it was now.

When Natasha added a third finger, your mind started to grow foggy. You had known for awhile that you would do anything for her. It wasn’t a feeling that you shied away from in the slightest. Excitement was building in your core, breath coming quicker, sweat slicking against every inch of your body.

“Remember your manners, baby girl.” Natasha’s words vibrated against your core, making your squirm. “Not until I say.”

Her fingers curled inside of you, your walls tightening expertly around her. It took everything in you not to give in to her. There was an impossible pressure building inside of you. You gasped in as much air as you could muster.

“Who do you belong to?”

“You,” the answer came without hesitation. “Only you,”

“That’s right. You’re all mine, my little toy.”

Her words only worked you up more. You wanted to take care of her, wanted to worship her. You’d do anything she commanded. The word slipped past your lips without a second thought. She was working so hard to undo you. “Natasha… mommy”

Natasha let out a moan at the title, her pace increasing. She returned her hot mouth to your clit, circled it with your tongue expertly. She mumbled against you, words vibrating. “You can cum, princess.”

She didn’t’ have to tell you twice. You tightened around her fingers, arching off the bed as pure extasy washed over you. You clenched every part of your body, groaning into the crook of your arm to muffle the noise. Pleasure rolled over you, through the pit of your stomach.

Her mouth continued to work throughout the lingering pressure of your orgasm, threatening to build to another one. Natasha pulled her fingers from you with a wet noise. She breathlessly moved herself next to you, kissing your neck, your jawline. Natasha pressed her fingers against your lips, and you were eager and ready to accept them. 

You could taste yourself on her, sucking them as she nipped at your earlobe. She whispered, feeling hot against your skin. “Such a good whore, so willing and ready to suck anything. Take anything. I can’t wait to give you a strap.”

Your heart began to race at the thought, and she smiled against you, clear that she could feel the increase of the rhythm from your closeness. Natasha removed her fingers, she kissed you hard, and you kissed her back with just as much passion, pulling away slightly to stifle a yawn.

“Tired already, Zaychik?”

You chuckled “you wear me out. Though, I’m not too worn out to make you feel good.”

“Mm, you’ve already made me feel good. I think we should get some sleep.”

You wanted to fight her on it, body still trembling from the rolling orgasm she had given you. But exhaustion was fighting too and Natasha readjusted you both until you were settled gently into the crook of her neck, one arm lazily over her midsection. She was gentle and attentive with her movements. Brushing strands of your hair behind your ear. Who knew Natasha Romanoff was a cuddler?

A spring storm had taken full effect by the time you had crossed back into the city, but it seemed that nothing could dampen your mood. The clouds that formed in dark clusters and released sheets of rain were something of beauty, not despair. The day was still warm, the breeze cold to cut through the sweat that formed on your brow. You’d cracked the window, allowing stray drops to cool your skin.

You stopped by the mailbox on the bottom floor, wiggling the smallest key on your ring into the lock until it opened. You barely checked the mail and it was stuffed full of coupons, advertisements, and the occasional statement from Veronica’s after-school daycare.

You tucked the papers under your arm and started the long ascent to your floor. You avoided the nails that stuck up through cheap wood. The spots in the carpet that had been soaked through with water damage. None of it seemed to bother you.

“Good morning, Miss Baxter.” You mumbled to the older woman who always perched in front of her door in a busted lawn chair. She had a perfect view of her neighbor across the hall. Her little, crusty white dog barked in morse code at you.

“What’s so good about it? Raining buckets and everything in this godforsaken place leaks.”

“Well, I suppose that’s where the buckets would come in handy.”

She made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat but you were already a good portion of the way up the final flight of stairs. You pressed your shoulder tactfully against your apartment door pushing it open before you threw the mail on the table and flicked on the kitchen light. The air conditioning chilled you to the bone, drying the damp spots on your clothes.

There was a click in the far side of the room, one that was unfamiliar from the ticking of the air unit, or the settling of an old building. You were used to those noises. This was entirely too human for your liking, so you drew your gun in a fluid movement, much like the other night.

Without hesitation, flicking off the safety and aiming.

Darcy was sitting in the beaten recliner in the corner. There was an upturned book on the side of the chair. You weren’t sure how long she had been sitting there, but from the bags under her eyes, the way her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, you knew it had been awhile.

You instantly lowered the weapon, hands suddenly shaking. “Darcy, what are you-?”

“I… I knew that something was up these last few months. I thought you had started seeing someone, a regular at the diner, or, or God forbid the dude who works behind the grill. But when I went to the diner you weren’t even there. They said you hadn’t been there for months. And can you please put that thing away?”

“Sorry, I’m sorry” your words were pinched as you rebolstered your weapon. “I can explain.”

“Can you?” She stood, closing the distance between you both now that there wasn’t a loaded gun in the middle. You straightened up, heart pounding haplessly in your chest. “Because Monica Rambeau came up to me at work the other day and told me that you were lying. She… she wouldn’t tell me what, just that you weren’t being truthful, and I defended you, y/n.

“I defended you because you’re my best friend. You have been for years. I’ve stood by you through everything. Through meeting Ronnie’s father, and getting pregnant and comforting you when he left you- because he did leave both of you!”

“Darcy,”

“No. Let me finish. Let me finish. I’ve been here for you every step of the way. Every single step and the only thing that I’ve ever expected from you is honesty. Don’t you think I deserve that? Don’t you think Ronnie deserves that?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, watching her carefully as she caught her breath, and her bearings. You had only seen Darcy this angry once, and it had been years ago. Sophomore year of high school when her parents decided to split, and her father tried to get her to move to Washington state with him.

She fought and fought because they waited until the last minute to tell her. They weren’t truthful, and you hadn’t been truthful either. More importantly, in both situations, she had been right.

“The y/n I know, can’t draw a gun like that, and doesn’t come home covered in bruises, and doesn’t flinch into action at every little noise. The y/n I know wouldn’t have lied to me in the first place. So, what is going on?”

“Can we… sit?”

You didn’t entirely trust the strength of your legs right now. Parts of you were sore, you had realized that as you climbed the stairs. You could feel them trembling now and fought the urge to curl up on the carpet that was right under your feet.

“I’m fine standing.”

“A drink, then? It’s uh, it’s five somewhere, right?”

“y/n.”

“Right, yes. I know.”

And you did know, but only to a certain extent. If Monica hadn’t gone to Darcy, would you have? It was a single night of drunken lovemaking followed by a less-than-graceful exit into the cold of autumn. There was a tightness to seeing her again, and the underlying fear that this would happen. But so many things were happening.

“I am sorry that I haven’t been truthful with you, but you have to believe me, it was for your own safety. For Ronnie’s safety. I would never lie without a good reason.”

“Well, that’s subjective, isn’t it?” Darcy’s breathed “You always think you know what’s best for me, what’s best to hide from me. But you don’t know what I can handle.”

Okay, you absolutely needed that drink. Darcy wasn’t going to leave now, not without answers she was pushing so hard for. Ronnie was getting too tall for her own good, so you hid the good liquor in the cabinet above the fridge.

Bourbon, warm or not, was your choice and right now you couldn’t bother with ice, just a mug that you had gotten from a thrift store. It was from Cabo and had a little white sand beach and a flamingo wearing sunglasses on the front. You’d never been to Cabo.

The first sip went down burning, and the second soothed the first. “I took a loan.”

“Like, from a bank?”

“From a shark. Technically. They don’t call them that, but that’s what they are. I didn’t realize it at the time, or else I wouldn’t have, but I was already two months behind on rent and I refused to ask you to cover me again. That’s not your responsibility. You already do so much for me and Ronnie.”

She opened her mouth to object, to rush in and say that she would have given you anything and you knew she would. But that didn’t change the fact that you wouldn’t have asked her in the first place.

“I didn’t pay them back in time and they weren’t very lenient. They took me under their custody to persuade me into coming up with the money.”

“Persuade? Their custody?”

“Kidnapped… beat within an inch of death. Whatever way you look at it, I was on their bad side.”

With horrible judgement you filled up another two fingers of whisky, only swallowing half but making eye contact with Darcy as you had done so. Simmering behind her deep blue stare was a mix of pity you were desperate to avoid. It soon dwindled back into discontent and that made you want to continue.

“I was spared on account that I wasn’t their usual clientele. Natasha, she called me… shit, what was it? An oversight? I was a blip in the system. I wasn’t supposed to happen and for that reason, and that reason alone, she offered me an ultimatum.”

Darcy sidled up to the counter that rested like a drawn line between you both. Her fingers tapped nervously on the surface but some of the tension had drained from her shoulders. “Natasha? That.. woman from the fair? The one with Clint?”

“Oh, Clint, you remember?” You smiled.

“He’s strong. Rugged.” She shrugged, frowning “That’s not the point. You’re telling me he’s a part of this sharking business? You’re telling me you let a known criminal that close to your daughter? To me?”

“I get how that sounds bad, Dee, but he’s really not a horrible guy. He’s a father himself and you’re right. You’re right. It’s not the point.” You swallowed the second half of your drink and placed the novelty mug in the sink to stop yourself from polishing off more of the bottle. “They gave me an ultimatum.”

“An ultimatum?”

“I could kill myself working at the diner everyday for the rest of my life. Twelve-hour shifts with most of the funds feeding right back into their palms. It would take decades to give back the money I took from them. Or, I could work for Natasha and pay off my debts in a quarter of the time.”

Silence filled the room. The only type of silence that you knew, that was filled with the sounds of the city. Your neighbors to the left were having a fight that seemed bigger than the one you and Darcy had now. A boombox blasted reggae music across the street and certain beats bled through the thin glass windows.

You swallowed the acrid flavor on your tongue. “For the last four months instead of the diner, I have been with Natasha. With Clint. They’ve been teaching me, and at first, I hated every single second of it. I was scared for… for weeks. But, Darcy, I’m starting to enjoy it and that scares me more than anything.”

“I need to sit down,” She mumbled.

“I offered,”

“I know.”

She flopped down onto the sofa that folded out into a bed. You’d slept there for a month when Darcy’s apartment was being fumigated and you refused to make her take the couch. It was hell on your back, but Ronnie had never been happier to wake up to the both of you each morning.

It carried a familiar clean scent. Darcy pulled a blanket into her lap and ran her fingers over the bumps in stitching. You cautiously lowered yourself down next to her, starting to feel the effects of an empty stomach and too much liquor for the afternoon. You were suddenly nauseous and starving all at once.

“There’s more,” Darcy said, “What you just told me was a lot, but there’s more. I know you, y/n, and I’m giving you an opportunity here to tell me everything.”

You sighed, slumping on the couch. You could feel the bar in the center of the couch push against your spine. There was a crack in the ceiling next to a gray and brown water stain that looked like a Rorschach test.

“Natasha. I think I’m in love with her.” You could hear Darcy turn her head with a dizzying quickness. “I’m not supposed to be, it’s the last thing I’m supposed to be. I’m supposed to be protecting her and that’s incredibly hard to do when I’m distracted by her eyes.”

Darcy was laughing and it lightened the mood in the room. The tension was still thick enough to slice with a knife, but it was enough to get you to look at her. “You’ve got it bad, huh?”

“The worst.”

“You really think this is what’s best, huh? Putting yourself into the line of fire like this? Handling a gun?”

“I do. I really, really do.” You picked up her hand, relieved that she didn’t pull away so you squeezed it, just to make sure that it was real. That she hadn’t run at the first sign of trouble. “I always tell Ronnie that I’d get us out of here one day. All of us. And I never knew how to do that on $2.00 an hour.”

Darcy sighed heavily; she leaned her head on your shoulder. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know. But some risks you just have to take.”

The sun had broken through the clouds for the first time in days. It streamed through the windows of Natasha’s private office, nestled at the back of the large house. In the past week, you had been here twice and each time your heart thudded impossibly fast.

This time, she had summoned you before you were through the doors for your normal shift. There were no extra caveats. You weren’t meant to head down to the docks, or to one of the many storefronts that were rented from the Romanoff family. Instead, you were simply meant to be here.

The home was empty, you knew from the lack of cars that were outside. Natasha’s was the only one in the lot besides yours. There was a certain quiet to the day and the French doors that led to her private office were ajar to strengthen the airflow.

She was focused on the work in front of her, hair in a messy bun and two strands falling from her haphazard job. There were black frame glasses on her face. Her face was scrunched up in a frankly adorable expression. It softened when she glanced up and saw you, the ghost of a smile on her lips.

Much to your dismay, she removed her glasses “Come in, close the doors behind you.”

You did as you were told, letting them fall with the subtle shake of the blinds. They’d been closed but a small stream of golden light was splayed across Natasha’s desk. It caught the intensity of her eyes, the sharp green color that only came out when she was surrounded by these walls.

“Sit,”

Obediently, you moved to do so, pulling one of the leather chairs out from its spot on the other side of the desk. You felt shame, despite last night. She was still your boss, still the person you were meant to protect. That’s what you were being altered for.  

“Not there.”

You lifted your eyebrows, halting in your spot. Natasha pushed back in her rolling chair, ever so slightly. She gestured vaguely to her lap. She can’t be serious? This had to be some type of test? It didn’t seem like one. You certainly wouldn’t mind having her arms wrapped around you, her scent enveloping, intoxicating.

Cautiously, you did as you were told, lowering yourself onto Natasha’s lap. There was an overwhelming warmth, a destined comfort to being in her arms, so much safety in the simple gesture of her pulling you close.

She guided your chin until your lips were close to hers, not quite touching. “Hi, baby.”

“Hi,” You responded before closing the distance. She hummed into the kiss, her tongue running over her lips, against the roof of your mouth. You could taste her morning coffee and a hint of mint.

“I missed you.”

“It’s been two days,”

She hummed, pressing her cold nose against your throat. The weekends were reserved for relaxation, and as much as you wanted to stay with Natasha in this giant house, you had a life within the city; a daughter, friends, responsibility.

“I don’t want you work for me anymore.”

You frowned and pulled slightly away from her, your arms still circling her neck. This certainly had to be a test but there was no indication to such on her face. She had nothing but a tender expression, a quiet one that left no room for argument, but you weren’t built like that.

“What?”

“I,” Natasha dipped her gaze, pressing her forehead against your cheek. Her words were a whisper. “I don’t want you to get hurt. You can’t get hurt if I don’t put you in the line of fire.”

There were a few moments of silence aside from the large clock on one of the bookshelves that clicked with each passing second. Natasha had never been vulnerable with you like this. There had been moments of soft expressions, but never this.

Gently, you lifted her chin, forcing her to look at you. “Natasha, I can’t do that. I can’t just stop protecting you. It’s all I’ve been training for these last months.”

“I want to offer you something more, y/n. You and Ronnie both. I want you to have a home here… with me.”

You breathed her in, your forehead against hers. Your eyes were closed, but you could feel her watching you for any kind of reaction, anything that would give your feelings away. She tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, the gesture making your shudder against her.

“I want that too. But more than anything, I want to keep you safe. I still want this. I still want to be there for you like I have been. Behind you every step of the way.” You chuckled sadly, “While being a trophy girlfriend sounds amazing, I want to earn my keep.”

Natasha smiled at you, “Girlfriend? That’s quite the title.”

“I mean it,” you played with her necklace, an equally as small gold chain. “I want to keep training. Girlfriend or not. If you’re going to keep me around.”

She moved forward, kissed against the small expanse of skin behind your ear, down the side of your neck. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Mmhm, but I was serious about you and Ronnie.” She pulled back, brushing her thumb over your flushed cheek. “I like you, y/n. You make me happy.”

Before you could respond, her lips were against yours again, her hands tracing up your sides. You were well aware of how close the two of you were, of how easy it was to get heated in this position, of Natasha’s cold fingertips as they ghosted under the hem of your shirt.

“I brought pizza from that place on the corner that you like,” You balanced the large and greasy box on your hip. It wasn’t your favorite place, the man behind the counter was always rude and the line was out the door. But it was for good reason, you had to admit, because the food was always delicious and made you forget about all the complications.

Darcy ate pineapple on her half the pizza like a criminal. You and Veronica were content with pepperoni, but you’d have to sprinkle extra parmesan cheese on her slices, cutting them into small pieces and providing her with a fork.

There was quiet to Darcy’s apartment. One that reminded you of the many times you had pulled your weapon in preparation. Your hands were full with the box, with a plastic bag filled with off-brand soda and two-dollar movies that were on the shelf at the corner store.

You struggle to swallow your own fear at the sight that lies in front of you. The television is muted, but a cartoon continues to cast the living room in a pale, blue light. Darcy is sprawled on the couch, her chest rising and falling in what seems to be a heavy sleep.

The light above the oven is on and the kitchen table is far from unoccupied. Ronnie looks up at your entrance, content with the array of markers, colored pencils, and crayons that are scattered in front of her.

Carol Danvers sits in an adjacent chair, working on staying in the lines of her own picture. You weren’t close enough to see what she had drawn, but based on her track-record you were sure it was something ghastly.

Monica Rambeau sat in the recliner, a mug of something steaming in her hand. Her eyes were trained on the television despite the lack of sound. They didn’t flick to you when you entered. She was confident that you weren’t going to make a move. Cocky.

“Is that from Ginos?” Carol asked, capping the marker that she was using. “God, they have the best pizza.”

“Yeah, it is.” You whispered.

Cautiously, you let the door close behind you. With an almost domestic way about you, you set the box and the bags down on the counter before wiping the sweat on your jeans. You made quick eye contact with Monica. She nodded at you, regarded you quietly.

“Sit, I was just telling Veronica that she’s very good at coloring. You’ve got a real artist on your hands, Y/n.”

“So, I’ve been told.” You sat down, keeping both of your hands on the table. Kate told you that it was a sign of trust. That if you were quick enough, and she was sure that you were, it wouldn’t matter how far away your weapon was. “What did you do to Darcy?”

“Oh, she’s just so exhausted. Sometimes working a nine-to-five will just take it right out of you. She’ll wake up tomorrow morning after some much needed rest.”

You nodded; mouth incredibly dry. Carol was watching you carefully. She had scribbled something that looked like a mass of color but the more you stared, just like the stain on the ceiling in your own apartment, the more it looked like something more.

She laughed, shaking her head “I’m afraid I’m not as good of an artist as your daughter.”

Ronnie looked at you, her eyes searching your face. It was easy to read her. You had for years. There was curiosity there, but no fear. Carol had probably led with something along the lines of I’m friends with your mother.

Or maybe it had been Monica who forced her way in first. She’d wandered into the kitchen and opened the box of food. Her nose scrunched up at the prospect of fruit on pizza, but she made quick work of picking off the offensive items.

Carol pushed the sheet of paper close to you. “Tell me, y/n, what do you see?”

“I… I don’t know. It looks like a duck.” She lifted her eyebrows, looking or more, and you confidently pointed to each element. “The beak is right here, and the eye is here.”

“Right.” Carol made a swift movement and flipped the photo. “What does it look like now?”

For someone that claimed not to have a good eye for art, Carol sure had a high opinion of a diagram she’d created with a few waxy crayons. It wasn’t the best drawn creature, but you got the general idea.

“A rabbit.”

Carol beamed at you and it made you feel sick to your stomach. “Clever one, aren’t you? Do you see how the world can be viewed in more than one way? To you, this could be a duck, or a rabbit, or just a poorly drawn abstract painting.”

“It’s very well done.”

“Don’t flatter me. I know what I’m capable of. I know what I’m up against. More importantly, I need you to know that sometimes, perspective can change everything.” She leaned back in her chair, rolling a crayon under her fingertips. “The Romanoff family is on the wrong side of an ongoing war, and by association, so are you.”

Veronica got out of her chair then, finally losing interest in the activity that was given to her. Monica and Carol tensed, as did you. But your daughter gave you a look that indicated television. Something else to occupy her mind. You let out a shaky breath.

“Sure, baby. Keep it low, okay?”

She nodded at you and scrambled over to the living room. There were soft noises from the cartoons afterwards. She sat patiently close to the screen to she could hear. She minded you well, hugging a throw-pillow close to her chest.

“It was very easy to track you down. Did you know that? Almost as easy to get in here, to have full access to your life. The life you had before you met Natasha Romanoff.” Carol reached into her coat pocket, she pulled out a business card. “You need to choose a side. If you’re going to stick around in this town, you need to choose a side, or get better locks.”

She left it on the table along with the smattering of art supplies and her crudely drawn photo that was supposed to teach you about perspective. Though, you were certain you knew all you needed to. There wasn’t even a question.

Carol stood and gestured for Monica to follow. She clapped you on the shoulder before she left, her words just the quietest of whispers. “I understand her allure, y/n. But there’s more than one force to deal with in this city.”

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[phfenomena]

❝i think there’s been a glitch.❞ || tom blyth x f!reader

| request - glitch by taylor swift would be so perfect for tom

| A/N - 1989 aesthetic with a midnights song?? let me cook. just let me cook. 1989 is both beach and city so you know i’m grilling up some shit that will have you kicking your feet.

(divider by @dvluc)

the sun was boiling every inch residing below it, and you were included. rachel, being the saint she is, conjured up the idea of having a beach day while you were all still in L.A.

the car was full of laughter and loud music. you had rented a jeep and were more than happy to take the top off. you were never able to drive a convertible in new york, it always rains. the wind was whipping your hair all around the air but you found it hard to care. you were driving while tom had called shotgun and fought josh for it. he was fiddling with the volume and bass while rachel was trying to convince josh to not stand up and stick his head out of the vehicle.

"i vote that josh stands up and gets his head chopped off, final destination style." you yelled over the wind and music. josh nods at rachel and she covers her face turning away from him. he begrudgingly stayed in his seat as you were trying to convince tom to stand up.

"it'll be fun! i can't do it, i'm driving. let me live vicariously through you." the music had been turned down and tom was smiling and shaking his head at you.

you were all racing down to the beach, josh obviously winning. as everyone was accusing him of cheating because he got a head start, tom took his shirt off. you fell silent as he was walking to the water and you suddenly felt as if the sun was hugging the earth. you slowly pulled your dress over your head and trailed behind of josh and rachel, still arguing over how josh cheated.

the ocean was cold and it cooled the heat in your cheeks instantly. you spun around looking for tom but couldn't see him above water, suddenly you felt a hand wrap around your ankle and you were engulfed by the water.

you came back to the surface coughing and yearning for revenge while tom was laughing so hard he couldn't breathe. "what if i drowned and died? you wouldn't be laughing very hard then."

we were supposed to be just friends. you don't live in my part of town, but maybe i'll see you out some weekend.

the bass was shaking the ground and the lights were almost disorientating. your friends had managed to pull you out to a club in brooklyn. the pregame shots already kicking in as you felt yourself loosening up and your friend pulled you toward the sea of bodies. some overly-produced pop song was flowing out of the loud speakers as your body collided with the surrounding people.

a hand was placed on your waist and you whipped around to see who was violating you. you met the eyes of your offender and smiled. "tom! i haven't seen you in weeks! how was berlin?" you scream over the music and he pulls you in for a hug, leading you away from the people. you blow a kiss to your friend but they don't even notice you leaving.

your feet swung as you were sitting in a barstool next to tom, chatting about what he's been up to. "yeah, we're finally done with all the promos and interviews." you're nursing your third drink of the night, mixed with your previous shots, your blood alcohol level was too high. "that's so cool! i knew rachel and josh were back but i didn't know you were back in brooklyn." he smiles and nods. "what're you doing in brooklyn anyway? don't you live an hour away?" he asks and you laugh. "my friends really wanted to go here and they yanked me out of bed."

depending on what kind of mood and situation-ship i'm in, and whats in my system.

you answer your buzzing phone and greet rachel, asking if you'd like to go out to dinner with them. "yeah, i'd love to! i'm with paul right now, is it alright if he comes along?" paul was your latest kind-of-boyfriend that you'd met at an award show.

paul and josh were conversing about star wars while you were talking with some of the other girls before rachel tapped your arm. you turned your head to her and she asked quietly "so are you guys dating? meeting your friends is a pretty big step.". you shot an unamused look at her and shook your head. "no, he said that he doesn't want anything serious. i honestly have zero clue if he even likes me, he's really weird about talking about it. but i don't even wanna date him." you whispered back, your attention pulled from her to tom who just sat down and was greeting everyone.

"hey, i'm tom." he extended his hand for paul to shake and you grew nervous. you see paul point at you and tom turns his head and smiles at you, you manage a tight-lipped smile back and lean your head on rachel's shoulder. "this is actually horrible, i wish you said to not bring him." you confess to her as she tilts her head towards yours. "why? he seems nice. he's getting along with everyone." you lift your head up and furrow your eyebrows. "i think he told tom he came with me. and i've literally had a small crush on tom since you introduced us." you whisper quickly to her and her mouth falls open. she smiles mischievously at you and calls tom over.

"do you think we could switch seats? i really want to sit with josh." he nods and takes her seat. he turns to you and you stare straight a head, trying to ignore the abundance of butterflies inhabiting your stomach. you hear your name fall from his lips and you finally turn to face him. "paul seems nice, i'm really happy for you," you try your hardest to not slip under the table in dispair but you end up offering your thanks and talking about your recent work.

i think there's been a glitch. five seconds later i'm fastening myself to you with a stitch, and i'm not even sorry.

your three friends had one last premiere in california, and you were coincidentally filming for your latest show in hollywood. your arm was wrapped around tom's as you were posing for the press, the blinding flashing of the cameras leaving dark spots in your vision. tom's hand rubbed circles on your lower back as you smiled for the pictures and quickly exited the carpet.

you took a deep breath and sat down next to rachel. "thanks for coming with me." tom whispered in your ear and you smiled at him. "of course, i'd do anything you asked me to." you internally punch yourself and turn your attention back to the screen.

you hadn't left toms side the entire night until you were back at his hotel room and you learned you were staying in the same hotel. he offered a glass of wine to you as you both sat on the floor, leaning against his bed. "yeah, paul and i didn't last very long, he had no personality it was so hard trying to talk to him." tom laughs and his head leans against his shoulder. "i was wondering about that, i just thought you liked really bland guys."

i was supposed to sweat you out. in search of glorious happenings of happenstance on someone else's playground. i think there's been a glitch.

a comfortable layer of silence laid on top of you both as the air was filled with the quiet sound of taylor swift. "i really like hanging out with you." you whisper and set your phone down. tom raises his eyebrows and stutters out "oh,um, t-thank you. i also really like hanging out with you. it always feels really easy." you smile and focus your eyes on a patch of carpet below you. "do you have a girlfriend, tom?" he shakes his head slowly, watching your every move.

"then, would you mind if i kissed you? it's totally okay if you say no, why did i even ask that? that was really-" your ranting had been cut short by tom linking your lips together. "jus' stop talking." he muttered against your lips, you turned your body towards his and felt yourself slowly getting lowered onto the ground. you definitely spilled wine on the carpet but that all seemed so irrelevant now.

nights are so starry, blood moonlit. it must be counterfeit.

[silkjade]

alhaitham x mermaid! reader (2)

⤀ warnings: fem!reader, no pronouns mentioned a/n: recommended to read the previous part first, since this is a direct continuation next ﾉ series masterlist ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓇼

For the past three weeks since your last encounter, alhaitham returns to the cove as usual, only to be met with no one. On the fourth week, he finally spots you lounging on a large rock, moonbathing under the pale light. The thought that it’s no wonder sailors are so easily enraptured, flits across his mind as he wades towards your rock.

It’s a shame that the moment your eyes meet, you dive back into the sea, the clear waters darkened under the blanket of night. He calls out your name only once, betting on the assumption that you’re still lurking close by. Sighing, he continues.

“I apologize for last time. I’d like to take you up on your offer.”

“… if it still stands of course,” he adds quickly.

There’s a hint of hesitance that lines alhaitham’s words, which is unusual for one normally so confident. Even more so, you notice he isn’t wearing his headphones— not over his ears nor around his neck. How interesting… perhaps you will surface.

“No ‘soundproof earpieces’ tonight?”

“They’d never last in the underwater pressure, so I’d really prefer if they at least stay intact for use on land.”

“And what if I decide to drown you right now? You wouldn’t be able to resist my song.”

It’s true, he probably wouldn’t. But logically speaking, a mermaid who’s chosen to aid him in perfecting his linguistics (multiple times), likely wouldn’t pose a huge threat. On the other hand, he did possibly offend you during your last meeting. In addition, mermaids were notoriously known to be headstrong and fickle as the sea itself. If that were truly the case…

“Then that would be bad luck for me.”

Always so cool, always so calm. The back of your fingers graze past his ear, tempting fate.

“Aren’t you afraid?”

“No.”

To be honest, alhaitham isn’t sure if you’re somehow testing him, what with the way your voice comes out honey sweet to his ears. But his mind is clear and his resolve is strong. He just hopes it translates well to you, despite the slight waver in his hushed voice.

“I know what a kiss means to you humans…” you say, tracing your fingers down the side of his neck, stopping only to toy with the gem on his chest. It’s faint, but you can feel his heartbeat pick up. Blinking once, twice, you look up, holding his gaze, and repeat the question that had left a questionable mark on your correspondence. “Do you trust me?”

There’s no denying that alhaitham is a smart man; he’s learned from his mistake and knows how to answer this time around. Lifting your chin, he gently pulls you in and seals the distance between you with his lips. Your arms wrap around his neck, deepening the kiss, before sinking below the surface, effectively tugging him along, and sending him tumbling into the water with you.

The coldness of the ocean is worlds apart from the warm sumeru air. Alhaitham jerks away, expecting to feel the familiar sting in his nose, but it never comes and he finds himself breathing water like air. You grasp his hand, dragging him into a world unknown— at least to him. You will happily be his guide.

“Well come on. Enough floundering around, we’ve got lots to see.”

After a night of swimming, alhaitham is absolutely exhausted by the time the two of you make it back to the little cove. Even with the ability to breathe underwater, his human body is still no match for the strong currents of the depths.

“I’ve always wondered why you call yourself feeble, but I see it now,” you tease.

He really only has the energy for a halfhearted retort. “Come to sumeru city, and then we’ll see.”

…

It’s a long pause before either of you speak again. Only the rolling of tides breaks the silence in the night.

“Do you mean it?” you ask softly, glancing at your tail. The remaining water droplets glisten under the full moon; you’d have a pair of legs once completely dry. Some of your kind yearned for the world above, but you’ve never quite understood the appeal until now.

“Mmm..” It’s a half conscious hum before drifting off to sleep against the cavern walls.

Behind some rocks lay his usual belongings which he had left hidden earlier in the night. You drape his strange half-cape over his sleeping form, recalling how humans tend to get cold easily in the sea breeze, especially while wet.

“Hey, wake up. It’s noon.”

And so alhaitham opens his eyes to find your face hovering inches from his. Upon further inspection (and after blinking away the sleep from his eyes), he notices that not only has your tail been replaced with a pair of legs, but that you’re also… completely bare.

“What are you—”

Immediately, he turns his head away, choking on his words as a heated blush tints his face. With the reveal that you did in fact know the human implications of a kiss, he’s sure you also know what you’re currently doing as well. But for now… he swiftly gets up, tossing his cape in your direction. He’ll have to make a stop at port ormos to buy you some real clothing later.

It’s amusing, how a man so collected falters in the face of intimacy. With a sly grin, you cover your naked figure, though it quickly fades when you see him packing to leave the privacy of the cavern.

“H-hey help me up!”

“Oh? Feeling feeble, are we?”

a/n2: help i'm so invested in this au i'm probably going to do a third part, so send me an ask or just reply below if you'd like to be added to the series taglist ! thank you for reading ♡

© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform

[sakkiichi]

HERE COMES THE SUN.

They comfort you while you’re having a difficult time.

ft. Childe, Lyney, Albedo, Shikanoin Heizou x gn! reader.

cw/genre: hurt/comfort.

for my dear @https-furina I know you’ve been going through trying times lately, so I hope this can comfort you a little <3 I also struggled a lot with Heizou’s part, so I apologize if it’s no good at all…

if you enjoy this, reblogs and comments help more than likes !

✧ CHILDE

Linen sheets feel like ropes on raw skin against the morning chill.

Its warm cream color, ashen, nothing like the mirror sunrises you were used to witnessing right after you opened your eyes.

What’s the point in opening them anymore? You wonder.

You bury your face against the pillows. In any other occasion, you would have been grateful for the coolness of its silk.

Now it’s just an iceberg. Like a missing shard of your shallow beating heart.

“Someone’s sleepy today.” A familiarly perky voice greets, the mattress dipping slightly with new weight.

You rolling in the other direction is all the greeting that meets him.

“Hey, love! It’s time to wake up!” Childe chuckles, his hand gently shaking your body.

Yet something already tells him this is not right; you usually would have already shoved him away by now.

But today you’re just… unresponsive…

The dull oceans of his stare rise in dangerous waves at your state.

Hesitant, he calls your name, his tone more like a question.

And this time, he does get an answer.

Familiar arms he adores wrapped around him loop around his middle, your face burying against his chest.

You’re warm, yet you feel so… faraway… as if the pain of past memories was seeping out your light.

Ajax is no stranger to the despair palpable in your strong grip around him, he’s endured it himself, through years robbed of him by an abyss that turned him into a master of all weapons.

So because he’s known the cold of endless nights where all he had was a tattered red scarf to remember the warmth of a distant home, he now holds you.

And for someone whose hands were tainted in the filth and bloodshed of a lifetime of slaughter, Ajax is undeniably gentle.

His fingertips ghost over your skin, easing the burning anguish of bed covers that felt too rough, too suffocating, too wrong.

When your lover’s hands get lost in your hair, combing it, you swear sun rays filter through the deep sea you’re falling through.

And then, suddenly, the choice to swim upwards presents before you, scarred sun-kissed hands extended towards you.

You take them.

When you open your eyes, russet sunsets and constellations over your beloved’s skin greet you.

His lips find yours, a bit chapped but gentle; not his usual playfulness, but soothing aquamarine waves.

You swear Childe’s kiss tastes salty. And that’s when you realize the dry tear-tracks down your cheeks.

He made them dry, sunlight evaporating puddles after grey days.

You break the surface, the waters now turquoise beneath Ajax’s light.

He won’t let you sink again.

✧ LYNEY

A whole audience’s cheers fill the Opera Epiclese. Lights shine upon every smiling face, every vigourous clap of hands after the magician’s grand finale echoing through the theater.

However, the illusionist’s gaze of amethyst is focused on the sole grim expression amongst millions of joyous others.

Yours.

Your hands move, clapping together, as if automated; your eyes stare at everything, seeing nothing; your mouth is a taut line, your lips devoid of their usual vibrant tint.

Lyney doesn’t like that being his last memory before the curtain closes.

When you step out of the Opera House, an infinity of starfields is abloom across the crepuscular skies.

What a mockery; a cruel jinx on display, for you to see the unfulfilled sparks dimming inside your heart.

A sigh escapes your dry lips, a small cloud forming when it meets the late night chill.

“You’ll catch a cold there, mon coeur,” Someone you know, tricks and all, utters behind you.

Welcome warmth tinted in lavender envelops you the instant your eyes meet the magician’s starry ones.

A small smile tugs at your lips, the curse of melancholy still clinging to you through it.

“Lyney…” You start. The twilit breeze picks up around you, your arms instinctively wrapping around yourself for some semblance of a warmth you haven’t felt in days.

“That won’t do, ma chérie.” Your lover chuckles.

Then, with a wave of his hand, a piece of the night sky itself seems to become tangible in his grasp.

“Here,” he offers, draping it over your shoulders.

Upon closer inspection, you realize it’s a shawl; the cloth feels delicate to the touch, quite fine too, and yet, you feel the warmth of a thousand suns. If you had to describe its color you would come up empty. Silver glitter seems to be embedded in the fabric, but at the same time, it looks like multiple tiny lights had been stitched to the material. You suppose you’d call the hue, dark; a myriad of indigoes merge into violets, threaded together with navies and cobalts. And yet, when you move it, the colors seem to shift, almost like the clouds drifting across this midnight.

“I take it you liked it.” Lyney smiles, softer than his usual cheshire-like grins, when he observes your wonderstruck features.

“Very…” You muse, awestruck at the magical silk.

“It’s a châle de ciel,” your beloved explains, “It will change depending on the state of the sky at each time of day.” He pauses, eyes, the color of lumidouce bells and rainbow rose petals merged, glinting as he admires how the garment fits you. “But I can guarantee,” your illusionist steps closer to you, plucking something out of your hair. “That it will always keep you comfortable… warm or cool, whatever you need.” He finishes, handing you a pluie lotus.

You take a few seconds to appreciate the second gift of the night. The flower’s petals are the same color as Lyney’s eyes, yet not as vivacious.

“Shall we go, mon amour?” Your boyfriend inquires, already offering your arm to him.

Together, you leave the opera house behind.

You hope for light blues on your new cape tomorrow morning. And somehow, you know that’s what you’ll find.

You squeeze Lyney’s arm gently. The sun will rise soon.

✧ ALBEDO

When he sets foot on his camp in Dragonspine, Albedo finds the heater already on.

Strange.

The sun hasn’t even quite awoken yet, the snowy peaks outlined against skies still clinging to dreamless cloudy nights; shards of ice, embedded in the softness of dawn clouds. An accurate representation of the region of freedom’s snowy mountains: menacingly beautiful, brimming with lethal charm, for one step in the wrong direction, and the cold might as well consume you for good.

At this hour, no one was ever already working at his lab, making of these moments calm sunrise-tinted memories in the alchemist’s mind, before the day’s hustle and bustle began.

However, today, the running heater is not the only out of the ordinary salutation to greet the chalk prince.

The acute sounds of clicking vials, books being rearranged and crunching snow are confirmation enough that he is, indeed, not alone.

With silent steps, Albedo advances, keeping one hand hovering over his trusty sword. Then, he finally lays eyes upon the cause for the commotion, and despite the lack of danger, the sight doesn’t calm him any better.

“My dearest?” He calls. The instant your gaze meets his, your condition scares him more than any bandits ransacking his research material. Your hair is messy, falling on your face; dark circles are etched beneath your lower lashline, darkness clinging to you like remnants of turbulent nights; and you’re shivering, whether from the cold or because you’re distempered he can’t quite discern, although it’s most likely due to both.

“Hello, ‘Bedo…” You mutter, the flesh of your lips bitten, flecks of Dragonspine’s freeze coating them, the cold lacing with your bones, chilling you to the core. Your eyes widen when you notice your lover’s teal gaze scrutinizing you. You quickly busy yourself with classifying some potions, by color and texture, whatever takes the longest for him not to worry about your less than ideal condition.

However, perhaps you underestimated his attention to detail; for he has a skilled artist, after all.

“My love, are you feeling alright?” He questions, gloved hands gently taking the crystal vial-filled wooden box you were carrying off your trembling hold.

And in that instant, you don’t know if it’s the warmth of your prince’s hands on yours; or the comfort of his voice, like honey on bitter tea, but you find yourself taking a deep breath, the fresh air of a midwinter’s sunrise filling your lungs.

And then you talk. You spill every worry and bad dream, your shadows opening up to the gilded starlight of him.

And through it all, the alchemist’s hands warm yours, fingers interlocked, very much in the way your souls are undeniably so too.

Because no matter how daunting the river seemed when you faced it alone, when you were with Albedo, its typhoons calmed down, stone bridges and his outstretched hand painting safety and comfort in hues of gold before your eyes.

While the kreideprinz grounds you, the sun reaches its peak, a canvas of aureate and cornflower blue grazing the mountaintops.

You would be okay.

✧ SHIKANOIN HEIZOU

Emerald eyes read through you as if you were made of clear glass.

The way you worry your lower lip between your teeth; your fingers almost going white at the knuckles as you clutch a pencil, its wood creaking in your grip; and the general absentminded state you’re in, papers scattered over your desk, several case files stacked in disarray.

Something is clearly weighting on your mind.

“I think a break’s in order, wouldn't you agree, sweetheart?” Heizou suggests, standing up, those striking eyes of his fixed on you.

The detective’s voice is enough to stop the quickening clock ticking in your mind, regrets and dark spirals momentarily coming to a halt.

When you rise your furrowed brow, shades of maroon and viridian flood your sight, vivid as summer and warming your up just as much.

Nodding, you stand up too, limbs feeling heavy despite the comfort of your lover beside you.

The brown shades of your office turn into blue skies and soft pink sakuras not long after, the scented tree branches swaying above you, like fragments of dreams someone had given up on, waiting to be picked up by another soul who dared to imagine.

Your back rests against your lover’s lean but strong torso, the sweet smelling breeze combing through your hair, as Heizou’s chin rests on your shoulder.

“So will you tell me what��s wrong, darling?” Are the words of his that break the birdsong-filled calm.

A pang settles on your chest, you didn’t want to take away that cheeky grin that most of the time decorated his quick-witted lips.

“I…” You hesitate. “Well, it’s- it’s complicated, Heizou…” Your lids flutter closed, a shaky breath raking through you, as you turn around in his embrace, your hands bracing on his shoulders. “I don’t want to bring the mood down, you know…”

The detective places a thumb on your lower lip, smoothing over the bite marks you left there earlier.

“You never, ever, bring the mood down, dear. Never.” He leans in, brushing a soft kiss over your forehead. “My intuition told me right away there was something up.” He takes a stray cherry blossom petal from your hair. “So, why don’t we take the rest of the day off, love?” Your partner proposes, as he takes your chin in between his fingers, mischief flashing in his features.

And perhaps your lover’s smile was more infectious than you had ever given it credit for; and maybe the way he flashes his green eyes at you has your heart trembling in ways that have nothing to do with the fear and guilt you’ve been festering, but you find yourself retorting back, with a grin of your own:

“Don’t you have cases to solve, detective Shikanoin?”

This time, he takes a full sakura flower, delicately placing it behind your ear.

“I have something more important to solve right here…” He smirks, cheekily, as he admires your now flustered expression.

When you lean the side of your head against his chest, he cradles it with one of his hands, the other playing with the ends of your hair.

It would be unfair, if gloom were to take your soul captive when spring seems to linger through Inazuma’s breeze.

With a last look at you, the detective’s maroon lashes flutter closed too. He hopes, at least for today, he managed to protect precious you from the crimes of cruel sorrow.

He leans his head on top of yours.

The case is solved.

[thatstonedwriter]

Aquarium Trip!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A/n- guess who's going to the MOTHERFUCKING AQUARIUM BITCHES WOOOO

Contents; romantic relationships, undersea animals, swearing

Feat; Stolas, Blitzø, Loona, Fizzarolli

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Being at the Aquarium with them is a dream. The dark hallways, the lights reflecting against the water of the tanks- it creates such a romantic ambiance.

Stolas is a hopeless romantic. Not only does he get to learn about animals, environmentalism, and the ocean- he gets to learn these things with you. The whole time, Stolas is holding your hand, stopping at every display, and reading all of the information for each exhibit. Cue the cute owl noises. Stolas would love to take some time to sit with you in front of an exhibit, sharing kisses, holding hands, and (of course) him telling you about all the new things he's learned! I think he'd love the touch pools, especially for the stingrays. He probably freaks out a bit at first, but his excitability overrules any hesitation. don't even get him started on the gift shop. Stolas freaks out over every book he sees. Gets the two of you matching shirts because he's a sucker for that kinda shit. Stolas loves taking pictures with you, too! With the jellyfish, cute crabs, the seals you see in the bay, the stingrays, everything. And, in my opinion, he would love ocean puns. You're taking facts and making them funny? He's so in love.

As much as it pains me to say it, Blitzø probably isn't a fan at first. To be honest, the only reason he came was because you said there were seahorses. He was pissed when they weren't actual horses. While Blitzø is kinda grumpy for a bit, he can't deny how cool everything looks- and how happy you are. Most of the time, he's not looking at the exhibits, but at you- appreciating your joy and excitement. Blitzø has never been one for learning "fun facts" or anything, but if you ramble on about the ocean, he'll hang on to every word. Of course, he probably won't outwardly show you too much affection, but there are times when Blitzø goes to reach for your hand, or scoots closer to you when you're sitting at an exhibit. If he had to choose a favorite section, it's the deep sea. he does quite enjoy the freaky animals. He isn't super excitable, but can't help a small smile whenever he sees how much you're enjoying everything. At the gift shop, he'll watch to see what you like the most and will sneakily buy it for you.

Not sure if Loona would be thrilled about the aquarium, but if she's going with you, she doesn't have any objections! I think she would be fascinated by the Jellyfish and open ocean exhibits. The color and size of the animals like the hammerhead sharks or sea nettles is just so mesmerizing. Loona wants to take pictures, but isn't used to the low light, so it's a bit frustrating. Hopefully you've got some photos to share with her. It's a requirement that y'all model and pose for pictures. Aesthetics are everything!! And Loona wants a new home screen. She would love being able to take a picture with the sharks or jellyfish with you. Tbh, I think Loona would be freaked out by crustaceans. Dunno why, I just think she doesn't like them. She also doesn't participate in the touch pools because of how many kids there are. In the giftshop, she probably doesn't get much for herself (but she does like some of the sweatshirts and jewelry).

Fizzarolli will not. Stop. Making. Ocean puns. It is constant, but hey, at least he's funny and creative. Fizz would probably love the aquarium, especially the otters and octopuses. Otters because..Adorable, obviously. Personal HC of him liking Octopuses comes from how they can be misunderstood, and how intelligent and versatile they are. There's also some relatability with the arms if you squint. I think the octopus would make him feel more secure with himself, you know? Whenever y'all are sat while watching a feeding or display, Fizz is snuggling as close as possible, arms wrapped around you, head on your shoulder. I would argue that one of the most romantic spots in an aquarium is the dark jellyfish exhibits. Fizz gets a selfie of him kissing you on the cheek or y'all with your arms around each other in front of the moon jellies. And boom- new lockscreen acquired. Dude goes absolutely bonkers in the giftshop. He loves everything. The notebooks, shirts, pins, jewelry, bags- all of it. You'll have to reign him in if you don't wanna deal with crippling debt. He ends up deciding on a cozy jacket and matching plushies for the two of you.

Aquarium dates are the best way to nerd out with your partner(s) 💛

[ceruleancattail]

Mine

Mystic au Floyd x reader

Tw: yandere, mild gore

The beach was tranquil, most days.

Accompanied by the morning’s breeze, you trudged alongside the shore, feeling the wind’s gentle kisses on your cheeks. The ocean rushed towards the beach to meet you, the cool water lapping at your ankles playfully. Almost like an over-excited puppy, eager to see you again.

A picture-perfect scenery, straight out from a travel brochure. It could have remained that way, yet unfortunately the desire to explore got the better of you.

A cave rested alongside the sea. A gaping hole, formed by years of enduring waves from the relentless ocean. Rocks jutted out at odd angles, almost like the great big fangs of some beast. Daring you to enter.

The wise choice was to not. Unfortunately humans were rather curious by nature, weren’t they? Humanity’s one redeeming feature, as well as their one prevalent flaw.

Just as Pandora found herself opening the box, you find yourself slipping into the darkness of a seaside cave. In hindsight, you shouldn’t have peered so far down that cavern as you did. Flip flops and slippery rocks glazed with seawater did not bode well for your balance.

As you landed, you were greeted with a shallow pool of cold water, chilling you to the very bone. Bits of sand embedded themselves tightly in the palms of your hands, biting into your very skin.

Your arms throbbed, bruised from the sheer impact of your fall. You stay still for a bit, nursing your injuries the best you could. Your knees and arms stung badly, but other than some light grazes and bruises, nothing seemed terribly broken.

Raising your head, your eyes flickered from left to right. Taking in your surroundings. Rocks in all shades of beige, smoothened into a somewhat uniform structure by all those years battered by the force of the sea. The light peeked through cracks in the rock, casting its gentle glow into the cave. Yet as comforting as the light was, its mere presence casted rest of the cave into darkness, shadows hiding in the corner of your eyes.

Shadows that moved. Waxing and waning, like the flow of the sea. Although these shadows moved too cautiously to be soothing. Warily, you glance towards each of the walls in turn, only to see an elongated shadow dance across one, slithering through the rock like a great big serpent.

Laughter filled the cave, echoing off its rock walls. The sound bouncing off every surface it could reach, creating an eerie chorus of one venomous laugh, repeated tenfold. Tensing up, you take a step back, only to collide with something cold. Cold as ice.

Bracing yourself, you spun around at once, only to come face to face with a pair of mismatched eyes. One golden, like the treasures that lay forgotten under the sea’s waters. One ebony black, much like the deep, dark depths of the ocean. Diagonal irises stared straight into yours, as if they were peering into your very soul.

Locks of aquamarine spilled from his head, accompanied one lock of black, framing his face from the right. Lines flared threateningly on his cheeks, revealing line after line of raw, red flesh. Gills, perhaps?

He had the torso of a human. A lean, toned chest, muscular from swimming through the currents of the ocean. Yet everything under his waist was a long, serpent-like tail, weaving its way through the cave. It surrounded you, blocking out any hope of an escape. With every passing second, you could have sworn that his tail was growing closer to you, inch by inch.

Scales lined every inch of his skin, like the chain mail that adorned the knights of old. Yet these were slick, melding together with a delicate elegance to each and every one. The scales moved fluidly with every move the beast made, with a smoothness humanity could never emulate.

Yet that wasn’t what caught your eye. It was the very colour of the scales that took your breath away. A rich aquamarine, just the perfect shade to match the blue of the sea. As the light shone on them, the colour of those scales seemed to dance right before your eyes. Rainbows seemed to glaze those very scales, colours shifting, blending into one, splitting into many.

All at once.

As you stood there in awe, the creature lowered his head. Fixing you with a rather annoyed gaze, the very ghost of a smirk dancing across his lips. You could see his fangs, little ivory daggers lining the inside of his mouth, sharpened into deadly, jagged edges.

He spoke, his voice light and airy, with a certain drawl within it. Not a conventional voice, yet an attractive one, nonetheless. It had a certain melody to it, rising and falling, almost like a siren’s song.

“You’re rather gusty, for just a lil’ shrimpy. Barging into this place, waking me up from my nap…

Now give me one reason why I shouldn’t just eat ya’ right now.”

As he leered at you, you reached out. A trembling palm, cupping the side of his face softly. Tenderly, like how you could have caressed a lover. The beast blinks back at you, eyes widening from shock.

Yet all you could mutter was:

“You’re… beautiful.”

Taken aback, the creature frowns, brows scrunching together. He hisses, more out of instinct than hostility. Yet he doesn’t move away, oddly enough.

Upon seeing this, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly despite yourself. A rather intimidating beast, daunted by a single touch.

“What’s your name?”

Rubbing slow circles into his skin with your thumb, your eyes never leave his. He regards you suspiciously, before relenting. Lowering his head so you had easier access to his face.

“Floyd. Floyd Leech.”

You cupped his face with both of your hands as gently as possible. Wary for any sign of discomfort so you could yank your hand away in time to save at least a finger or two.

Yet he never showed a single sign. Instead his shoulders relaxed, slumping. Floyd seemed eager, for your touch, leaning into your palm and melting there. Like a child’s ice cream left on the beach.

As the beast’s eyes closed, you let your gaze wander. To a gap of Floyd’s defences, a silver of space between the end of his tail and the entrance of the cave. If you moved fast enough, you could slip right out of the cave, and back into town without this… creature being none the wiser.

As Floyd’s head dipped, you started singing. A lullaby, from the days of your childhood. A calming melody that seemed to work on him, as his body slumped closer and closer towards the ground. You continue stroking his face gently, casting glances towards the entrance.

Once you hear gentle snores emitting from that monstrous mouth, you made your move. Releasing his face from your hold as you crept towards the entrance. Breathing in the fresh, salty air once more, feeling the warmth of the sun on your face, before something grabbed your ankle.

Scales cut deep into your skin, twisting around and around your leg. Clasping it in a death grip, squeezing as tightly as possible. Your flesh turned pale from the sheer force exerted upon it, blood circulation cut off from your leg. A chill raced down your spine, settling deep into its base.

Heart trembling, you cast a glance back. Only to see those mismatched eyes looming in the darkness, a fanged grimace accompanying it. With a single tug, you ended up spiraling back into the back, crashing against the beast’s torso. A pair of scale-covered arms slid around your chest, holding you firmly in his embrace. Claws dug into your skin, dyed scarlet with your very blood.

You could feel his fangs graze against your ear, taking a nibble or two. Pressing those sharp, sharp teeth into your skin. Oh, not hard enough to break through your flesh, but the threat was there.

“Now now, lil’ shrimpy. I thought we were having so much fun together… Y’know, no one’s ever called me beautiful before… or touched me as gently as you did….

Yet I never did say you could stop, did I?”

[saturnville]

ii hands ii heaven, l. hamilton

pairing: he (lewis hamilton) x she (black!fem!reader) warning: suggested sexual situations content: in which two newlyweds bask in the essence of one another. an: don't ask me what I know about LH44, I'm not gonna front and act like I know this man like the back of my hand. I saw some videos, watched some interviews, read some fics, and now we're here. just know I wanted to write & I pictured him for this fic lol. hope y'all enjoy

Soft mewls flowed from her parted lips like a waterfall. Her noises dove and crashed into the deepest oceans of their devotion. The intimacy of the moment was deep. They welcomed themselves to drown in it, leaving air at the surface and choosing to inhale the breath of adoration the other exuded. 

With the soft light of dawn peering through the curtains, their bodies wove together like yarn, knotted together and unable to be untangled. As he whispered sweet sentiments against the shell of her ear, the remnants of the outside world faded away.

The desperation for one another flowed between them like lava, further igniting their passion and desire. They moved together in a unified harmony, exploring all the other had to offer. Tender affection and unrestrained passion were their portion. Each fiery touch, each delicate kiss was an unspoken promise of the depth of their love. 

When the heat of passion began to cool, they stayed wrapped in the warm embrace of one another; damp bodies pressed against each other like glue. On their lips were smiles fueled by dopamine. Low eyes filled with adoration. 

“Hi,” he spoke softly, his breath warm against her lips. She giggled like a lovesick teenager and whispered back, bringing her trembling hand to his face, drumming her finger over his bitten and swollen lips. “Let’s get ready, yeah?” 

She nodded slowly, her face lifting against the pillow as her head moved. She sat up slowly, her wince falling on the ears of her lover. He swiftly wrapped his arms around her and swept her off the warm bed. She squealed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Baby!” 

He hummed softly and placed her on her feet. His tattooed arm opened the shower door and turned the handle. He waited for the water to warm before ushering her into the shore with a tap against her bottom. She scolded him playfully, “Hands to yourself.” 

“I’ll try my best.” 

What was intended to be a quick cleanse turned into a thirty-minute shower with heavy droplets against their bodies as she was pressed against the glass, heaving as the humidity invaded her throat. Goodness, they’d be so late. 

They couldn’t keep themselves off of each other. His zipping the back of her dress led to his fingers brushing her hair off her neck and tracing the placement of her dark locks with his lips. Her eyelids fluttered closed as her hands gripped the edge of the counter. He would be the death of her. 

Her tongue darted out and slid over her swollen bottom lip. His hands began to wander over the perfectly fitted dress. It was the prettiest emerald green shade and complimented her skin's richness wonderfully. Every curve, riff, and ridge was accentuated. She looked beautiful. 

“Okay, okay,” she whimpered, pressing her hands against his thigh. “We gotta go, baby, we gotta go.” She turned in his arms and began fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. His chest, decorated with tattoos and the finest of jewelry. 

“You look stunning,” he whispered, caressing her waist. “So pretty.”

She smiled bubbly and pecked his lips, “Thank you kindly.” Her hands smoothed out the thick linen of his suit jacket, the bling from her rings catching his eye. His heart leaped at the sight.  

He hummed lowly and squeezed her bottom, smirking when his fingers caught the dampness between her legs. She gave him a look. He gave one back. “Mhm. The quicker we get out of here, the quicker we get back. Let’s go, Mrs. Hamilton.” 

“That’ll never get old,” she said, reaching behind to swipe her purse off the counter. 

Her husband smiled softly and led her out of their shared bedroom. With a light kiss against her temple, he said, “It’s not supposed to. Let’s get out of here.” As they prepared to depart, the intimacy lingered like the sweetness of her fragrance., 

With whispered words, playful touches, and gentle kisses, they prepared themselves for what the outside world had to offer. Heaven.

[sim0nril3y]

Seaside

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: You both spend the day down at the seaside Note: Set in 2014 Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), teasing, eating, smutty smut smut, sex, p in v, creampie, canon-typical swearing.

It was a surprisingly nice day, the sun was shining, the sky was completely clear of any clouds and there was even a gentle breeze to keep things cool. Added to the fact that it was a weekend and you didn’t have any plans it seemed like some miracle. Whilst you sat and ate breakfast you mentioned. “Maybe we could go to the seaside?” You suggested and from where Simon was making a tea behind you, he hummed in agreement. Honestly you had expected more resistance but he seemed just fine with the idea.

“Oh, that is exciting.” You giggled happily. “Do you want me to pack some food or should we get something down there?” You quizzed with a pinch in your brow. “Babe, I’m not driving all the way down there without having fish and chips.” He smirked, sipping from his tea. “And ice cream?” You looked up happily. “And ice cream.” He confirmed. “Now, go on. Go get ready.” He coaxed softly watching as you finished your toast in a big bite and then rushed to go get ready.

It didn’t seem to take long. You finally decide on an outfit and then were waiting as Simon approached his keys in hand. “Where’s your jacket?” He asked, his own fleece hung over his arm and arch in his brow. “I won’t need one, Si. It’s a nice day out there.” Gesturing to the window beside you as the sun beamed down. “What about when it gets chilly tonight?” He replied evenly, making a fair comment but not one that you were willing to listen to. There were times when you would do this, act stubborn or rather blatantly ignore his suggestions and typically you would always come around to his way of thinking only after the disaster had happened.

“Simon, I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl.” Then shaking your head and opening the door briskly. “The sooner we get there the sooner we can soak up the sun.” A tired sigh left his lips watching as you walk away from him. “Fine.” He huffed, closing the door and locking it behind him. It was your mistake to make.

The drive down wasn’t too long, but it seemed like everyone had the same idea of heading down to the beach. It was like a fight for a parking and earned the glares of several families when he finally slotted into a space. “Oi.” He growled as you were about to climb from the car. “Look here…” He took your face in hand and took some time applying sun cream to your face, taking his time massaging it into your skin. “I get the feeling you just like putting cream on my face~” You purred which earned you a look of caution.

“We only just got here.” Simon’s voice was even and he saw that cheeky smile that pressed to your lips. “Behave yourself or I’ll drive you home.” He commanded and you laughed and nodded. “Promise~” Then leaning forward to kiss him and he smirked. “You smell like a holiday.” He noted, it was a pleasant smell, one that he wanted to savour for a moment longer before climbing from the car and announcing. “It’s never too early for ice cream, is it?”

It turned out that it really was never too early for ice cream, the two of you took a couple cones down to the stony beach and sat down watching the ocean. Even on a roasting day like this the water would be shockingly cold and still there were people playing in it. You smiled happily as you watched them before turning your attention to Simon, eyeing his frozen treat and he huffed as he held it in your direction to take a lick. “Mmm…” Then holding out your own for him to taste too. “That’s nice, babe.” He approved softy.

A loud calling of music and flashing lights drew you both over to the arcades next. They were crammed with kids and adults lining up to play the penny machines, claw machines, shooting games and anything else that was hidden in there. You even convinced Simon to toss a couple pennies into the machine, whilst you exchanged almost all the change in your purse to win a plastic ring and a lollipop.

Proudly you kept holding your hand out for Simon to observe it. A smirk played on his lips as he observed it for a moment and then said. “Very nice… you put about £5 into that machine to get a 50p bit of junk from it.” “Ah-ah. I won this junk.” You corrected with a big grin playing on your lips. “More than you won, Si~” You teased and this caused him to smirk before pulling you into his side and continuing to walk through the arcade before hearing the roar of laughter and cheering.

The two of you glanced over to see a group of lads gathered around the punching machine, a bag swung down and you would test your strength by hitting it as hard as you could. They were clearly trying to beat the record that was into the high 800s. “Bet you could beat that.” You coaxed softly, hand caressing the strong ink-covered bicep. You both observed for a moment before the group grew bored with not being able to beat it and the second it was free you rushed towards it and placed a few stray coins into it. “You go first.” Simon smirked taking a step back and watching you curl your fist. “Ay…” He caught your wrist before you could swing. “You’ll hurt your hand like that… like this…” He fixed your fist and then stepped back. “Go on. Hard as you can.”

You threw a punch and laughed as you watched the numbers fly up. “Ow~” You shook your hand from the impact Simon gently held it and brought it up to his lips to kiss softly. “Not bad, you know.” He nodded at the numbers that flashed on the screen, proudly announcing your score which didn’t beat the record. “Now, out the way…” He struck your rear in a firm slap. “Let me show you how it’s done.” Pressing the button, the ball swung down again and Simon eyed it for a moment.

His punch was loud, making the ball bang loudly as it swung back. You laughed and watched as the numbers rapidly climbed and climbed. A squeal of delight found your throat as the record was beat and then some. The text of the screen flash proudly the new record way into the 1000s. “You did it!” You squeaked and rushed towards him. Simon laughed collecting you into his arms as if a prize he’d just won. “I’m so impressed.” “You should be.” He laughed and held you close for a moment longer and then settling you back onto your feet.

“Well, you’ll really impress me if you can win me something from that machine…” You pointed over to the claw machine and he huffed. “Fine. But you’re paying.” He pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead and then stalked over.

As the sun was setting Simon brought the two of you fish and chips, you sat happily munching away with the stuffed toy he had won from the claw machine between your legs. A cold shiver ran down your entire frame then. Now that the sun had set a cold breeze was setting in. From beside you Simon observed the way your skin prickled and your shoulders shook softly from the chill.

“Bloody hell…” Simon knew that you’d be too stubborn to speak up and instead of fighting you on it just removed his fleece and handed it on your direction. “Here… before you get hypothermia.” You were quick to climb into the warmth of his fleece, enjoying that way that it smelt of his strong cologne and just of him. “Thanks.” You mumbled softly as you continued eating your chips.

You knew the comment was coming and simply smiled when he said. “Told you to bring a jumper.” Then glancing in your direction. “Just knew that you’d get cold.” A giggle slipped from your lips. “You’re always bloody cold. Like being next to an icicle at night, one that puts their bloody cold feet on you.” It would always rile him up when he was just dropping off to sleep and your cold feet you find their way onto his body. It was jolt him right back awake. “S’not funny.” He grumbled as you giggled and leaned into his side.

“I am always cold and I’m so lucky to have someone so warm and caring to snuggle up to.” You giggled and glanced up at him. “Besides, I knew a really good way of warming up~” There was that same playful lilt to you voice which let Simon know he was in trouble. “How much space do you think there is in the back of the car…” Simon smirked and responded. “Why don’t we find out?”

Night had drawn over completely and the car park was practically empty as you bounced on his rigid cock, from this angle you were hitting all the right spot, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with every slam down against his lap, whimpering and mewling into his throat as Simon clasped desperately at your waist. “C’mon pretty girl…” Those strong hands clawed hard to slam you down filthily onto his cock. “S’fuckin’ tight… Fuckinghell…” Simon’s voice was practically a growl as his fingers dug into your soft flesh.

By now your thighs were burning, but you didn’t care. It was a perfect ending to this amazing day. The two of you wouldn’t have been able to survive the journey home and besides now you would avoid the traffic.

“S’close, Simon~” You cried softly, burying your face into his throat. “S’fuckin’ deep… Ohgod… C-can I… can… I please…” “Yes, baby.” He confirmed, his hand disappearing between your body so his thumb could rub your swollen clit so softly before grunting as he felt your body swiftly fall over the edge, walls pulsing and body shuddering hard in his grip, even as you body tried to lock tight his hands continued to use your body, bouncing you and extending your pleasure as much as he could. “Goodgirl… good girl… give me everything, babe… goodgirl… Such a pretty girl when you cum…” He praised in your ear causing you to mewl and moan sweetly. “My sweet little thing… cumming of my fuckin’ cock… makin’ such a mess… goodgirl…” He coaxed his hand down your back soothingly.

There were little noises of effort as you continued to bounce on his cock and Simon smiled at how beautiful you looked. “Need your cum…” You whispered breathlessly, using what little effort you had left in your body to try and milk some from him. “Yeah, you need it?” Simon grunted out, glancing down between your bodies to watch his cock disappearing into your tight hole over and over again. “Need it…” You whined, gripping at his shoulders and pressing down harder. “Use me… Give it to me…” You whimpered leaning in to kiss him. “Please~”

He took that as permission to grip at your hips and begin to slam you down recklessly on his cock, using your sweet body for all his pleasure. “Feel… fuckin’ good, babe… won’t last… long…” He warned and sticking true to his words only lasted a few moments before beginning to shoot his seed into your accepting walls, pulling your frame close so he could hold you as he exploded inside. “F-fuck…” He grumbled, seating you fully on his lap and panting against your throat. “Fuck… that was… fuck…” He chuckled lowly. “You’re perfect~”

“So are you~” You giggled into his throat and he stroked his hands slowly up your back, soothing you sensually. “Let me… just stay here for a bit longer and then… then I’ll drive us home~” Turning his head he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Just rest, love.”

Masterlist | Ask | 23-09-2023

[skxllz]

“ I wan’ ‘at, ” paul speaks in a muffled manner while pressing his face up against the finger-printed glass of the claw machine. he spotted a stuffed animal he thought was cool as fuck, man! —his own words— and now wanted it.

“ hm? ” maneuvering the dum-dum around that you had in your mouth, you pause your walking beside the blonde and peaked through the glass as well; eyeing the certain object your boyfriend wanted.

It was a light blue, fluffy teddy bear holding a sign that said ‘ you rock! ’ with a little guitar strapped to it's back. of course paul would enjoy that stuffed animal out of all of the others in the machine.

trifling through the pocket of your jeans, you dig around the loose change you always carried, searching for a quarter to place into the slot. you damn near gave up after a minute of not feeling even one bigger coin, but then- your fingers brushed against the rough rim of silver. you felt it up, definitely identifying it as a quarter, before pulling it from your pocket.

“ s’cuse me, paulie. ” you politely squeezed your way between your boyfriend and the machine, only for paul to move back with curiosity now crept onto his face.

“ whatcha’ doin’? ” his questioned, looking over your shoulder much like an innocent little kid.

“ playin’ the game... ” you mumbled in reply, sliding the coin into the slot. you watched as the little red screen on the front of the machine lit up with how many tries you got —two— before the claw jerked forward, indicating you were set to play.

paul gasped in star-gazing excitement - which you gave a sideway smiles to, before wrapping your fingers around the joystick and setting your focus on the claw at hand.

tilting the stick to the left, you watched as the claw glided towards the small bear. “ get it, get it- ” paul was chanting under his breath while watching the claw. the light from machine was reflecting off his blue eyes, making a ring wthin his pretty irises.

“ I will, ” you smiled to yourself, slowing down just as it guided over the bear. jerking it to the right just a bit, you made sure the claw was dead center, before pressing down onto the button. It made a clicking noise, before the claw slowly extended downwards and the metal brackets stretched out.

perfectly, the claw wrapped around the bears head and picked it up. you were nervous at first because you knew how cheap the claws in these games were, never wanting to hold the stuffed animal up right, but those anxieties melted away once you saw the animal being dragged over to the slot and was dropped in.

you bent down and retrieved the stuffed bear from the captivity.

“ here y’go, paulie. ” you clutched the bear in your palms while turning around, only to stretch your arms out towards him; offering him the soft object.

paul had sparkles in his eyes as he took it, “ oh my god! ” he yelled happily, hugging it to his chest. he looked like an excited toddler that just received a new toy. “ it's fuckin’ adorable, babe! thank you! ”

grinning, you gave a small shrug. “ s’nothin’. ”

“ nothing?! ” he looked at you, eyes wide in mock offense. “ it's everything! ”

paul grabs you with one arm suddenly, tugging you close to bury your face into his pectoral. you could smell the musk of his cheap cologne and the giant scent of salt water from the ocean. “ thank you, ” his voice was softer now. “ I mean it. I love you, dollface. ”

you grinned, pressing a kiss to his chest. “ I love you, too. ”

[comatosebunny09]

firestarter [ pt. 2 ] | leon k.

genre(s): romance, friends to lovers, erotica, mild angst warning(s): mutual pining, explicit language, female reader, pet names summary: “you’re a shitty liar, you know that?” leon rasps against your lips. etches a sluggish triangle between your mouth and eyes, his breath fanning across your cheeks, turning your brain into a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations. the hand at your throat doesn’t help matters, squeezing with enough pressure to turn your lungs to cinder. music inspo: champagne cool - jackson wang spin bout u - drake & 21 savage notes: part 2 to this. thank you so much for reading! hope you enjoy! ❤️❤️❤️

It’s a rhythmic tapping that draws you from your catnap.

Knocking that hauls you from the softness of your couch, the news channel droning in the background as you blink away the fog. The floor is icy beneath your feet while you pad over to your front door to answer it. Not really thinking, forgoing the peephole to throw it open.

Sunlight filters in, blinding like a flashbang. You squint against its brilliance, your vision slowly wading through shapes and colors. And if you weren’t already awake before …

“Hey, stranger,” Leon Kennedy drawls from the threshold, tone brassy as if he’s just awoken himself. You feel it in your chest. Curling around you like smoke, weakening your knees.

He bears a youthful smile while he leans against the doorframe in an easy slouch, gazing down at you with such fondness. Clad in grey joggers and a black tee that does little to disguise the power of his body, a slither of abdomen peeking from beneath.

Your lids flutter, dispelling the final vestiges of sleep. Mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, throat growing dry. Your arms fall listlessly at your sides, your voice turning to ash.

He takes your silence as a welcome. Wears a somewhat guilty expression as he holds up a small, white bag, condensation beading inside. “Brought Chinese,” Leon offers, shaking it for good measure. A peace offering more than a greeting. Surprisingly good-natured, considering you’ve dodged him since you returned from your mission a week ago.

You step aside, completely on autopilot. Still dumbfounded as your partner maneuvers past you into your apartment, carrying the scent of ocean waves and teakwood with him. You flinch at the chaste kiss he presses to your cheek. At the graze of a callused palm on your hip, searing you through the fabric of your sweats.

Gaze fixated on the rail in front of your apartment, your lips twitch into a sardonic smile. Least he has food, you inwardly snort, slowly closing the door. Wait for a few beats with your head bowed and your hands frozen on the lock, preparing yourself for the unavoidable.

You square your shoulders with a sigh, trailing after his shadow towards your living room.

But, it’s surprisingly easy to fall back into tempo with him.

With you both sinking into the couch, your legs stretched across his lap. Large hands rubbing your feet, a ghostly smile rounding his lips when you giggle and squeal as he tickles them every so often. Feel at ease when he kneads the muscles of your calves. A softness to his ministrations like he’s missed this—missed you. And you catch him watching you in your peripheral as if he wants to say something. Yet, neither of you wants to break up the monotony of the moment.  

Takeout lies partially eaten on your coffee table. Drinks half full. The T.V. flickers mindlessly over your bodies, the only source of light permeating the darkness of your home. Your attention is elsewhere, dispersed amongst the clouds as you chew on your lip.

Sure, you’re still a little rigid. Still guarded after you bared your thoughts. The dreams haven’t stopped. If anything, they’ve grown in intensity. More vivid, painted across the walls of your hallway, floors, bedroom, the fucking bathroom …

Warmth inhabits your cheeks at the memory. You slap a hand over your face, a muted groan burbling from your throat. You’ve had nothing but time to relive your fantasies, having taken a week off following your reconnaissance mission. Sparingly spoke to the object of your desires, your texts and phone calls brief. Made room for good mornings and good nights, fearing anything longer would result in your partner breaking off whatever this is.   

His hand sears your wrist, slowly drawing it away from your mouth. “You alright?” Leon cautions, wariness dwelling in his timbre.

You nod with your stomach in knots and your heart on your sleeves. Try to ignore how his grip on you lingers and his thumb skates placatingly over the veins of your hand.

“Hey,” he husks. Insistent as ever, tugging you closer toward the safety of his body. An arm slings around your shoulders, nimble fingers creeping under your chin, coaxing you to look at him. “Hey, talk to me.” His proximity makes your head spin. The calmness of his voice squeezes something in your chest. You’re finding it increasingly difficult to breathe. And you’re looking at his mouth without thinking, entranced by how the delicate flesh trembles and parts with each breath. “What’s on your mind?”

You shake your head dismissively, averting your gaze to the side. “N-nothing.” A lie as obvious as the palpable tension between you, and he fucking knows it. He seizes your jaw again, leveling his steely blues with you.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” No. Not really. Because all you’ve wanted to do since he walked through your door was peel his shirt from his shoulders and sit on his—

His chuckle, husky and rich like chocolate, breaks through the swell of lustful thoughts. “You’re a shitty liar, you know that?” Leon says, etching a sluggish triangle between your mouth and hooded lids.