#Searching for a Reflection Beneath the Waters

[callisto-corner]

Sword and Serenade | Roronoa Zoro

Chapter One | Bound by Silence

Zoro carries a face akin to a blank sheet, devoid of readable emotions, his features a canvas of stoic calm. The blankness of his face does not signify emptiness but rather a mastery over his emotions, a warrior's mask that reveals nothing and conceals everything.

It's in the subtle clench of his jaw, the slight narrowing of his eyes, and the steadiness of his breath that one can glimpse the intensity and strength he harbors within. To the untrained eye, he might appear indifferent, but those who know him understand that beneath that serene exterior lies a mind constantly at work, strategizing, reflecting, and preparing for whatever challenge lies ahead.

He never saw himself in a relationship as all he wished was to be a great swordsman, which left no time for any relations.Expect the unexpected. You were a force to be reckoned with, the epitome of strength. It wasn’t your physical strength but your mindset and determined nature that he silently praised, looking forward to seeing how you would get yourself out of certain situations. There was something about your unwavering resolve and the fire in your eyes that resonated deeply with him, stirring feelings he had long buried beneath his quest for mastery.

Zoro tried to train off the feeling of unease, reading his growing affection as a bad omen. He trains and trains even more throughout the days, prioritizing his health as he thinks something will occur. Every swing of his sword, every drop of sweat is an attempt to quell the turmoil within him. The intensity of his regimen reaches new heights, each session longer and more grueling than the last.

He pushes his body to its limits, seeking solace in the familiar strain of his muscles and the rhythmic sound of his breathing. The discipline and rigor of his training have always been his sanctuary, a place where he can drown out the noise of his thoughts. Yet, no matter how hard he trains, the unease lingers, a persistent whisper at the back of his mind.

Zoro's nights are restless, his dreams filled with shadowy figures and indistinct fears. He wakes before dawn, the first light of the sun finding him already in the midst of his morning drills. He spars with an unseen opponent, his movements precise and powerful, but his mind is not entirely focused. He wonders if this new feeling is a distraction, a weakness that could jeopardize his path to becoming the greatest swordsman.

In moments of solitude, when the cold water soothes his muscles after yet another day of training, he allows himself to think about you. He searches within himself and perhaps a way to stop it but doesn't at the same time. These memories soften his resolve, and he starts to wonder if there was anything even wrong with him

Zoro's internal struggle doesn't go unnoticed by the crew. They see the conflict in his eyes, the way his usual focus is occasionally disrupted by fleeting glances in your direction. Chopper, despite his best medical efforts, can't diagnose the turmoil of a heart wrestling with newfound emotions.

Nights come and go, and Zoro thinks he is doing better. After dinner, he finds himself standing at the ship's railing, staring out at the starry sky. His hair, a lovely shade of green, glows under the moonlight, casting an ethereal light on his features. You approach him with your shawl wrapped around your chilled figure, seeking warmth in the cool night air. His heartbeat doesn't feel right, and he takes it as a test, cursing under his breath as you climb the stairs to him.

Your footsteps are soft, but Zoro tenses at the sound, his grip on the railing tightening. You stop a few feet away, hesitating. His silhouette is stark against the backdrop of the sea, the moonlight casting shadows across his face.

"Zoro," you call softly, your voice barely more than a whisper. He doesn't turn, his shoulders rigid, the tension in his stance palpable.

you take a tentative step closer, the wooden deck creaking underfoot. "Can we talk?"

His jaw tightens, and he exhales sharply through his nose. "What do you want to talk about?" he asks, his voice flat and distant.

You pull your shawl tighter around your frame, feeling the chill of the night air. "How cold," you say, a chuckle erupting from your chest. You sweep a few strands of hair behind your ear, squinting beyond the strong breeze. "I just want to understand."

You step beside him, the night air crisp and silent. He doesn't turn, his gaze remaining distant. "What do you want to understand?” His tone is flat, but there's a tremor beneath it.

You tilt your head slightly, studying his profile. The moonlight highlights the sharp angles of his face, casting half of it in deep shadow. His eyes are distant, reflecting the myriad of stars above but revealing nothing of the storm within. The gentle sway of the ship seems to mirror the uncertainty in your heart.

"I want to understand you," you say softly, your voice carrying a mix of concern and curiosity. "You've been different lately."

Zoro's shoulders stiffen, his knuckles turning white as he grips the railing harder. The wind whips through his hair, tousling the usually pristine strands into disarray. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he turns to meet your gaze, his eyes scanning your face with a mix of uncertainty and turmoil.

His lips part as if to speak, but no words come out at first. The tension in his body is palpable, his breaths coming in shallow, uneven bursts. Finally, he exhales heavily, his chest rising and falling with the weight of unspoken thoughts.

"What do you want to understand?" His voice is barely above a whisper, the usual strength and conviction replaced by a note of vulnerability. As he speaks, his hand moves to absentmindedly adjust the collar of his dark green jacket, a habitual gesture that betrays his inner turmoil.

In the moonlight, you notice a subtle change in his demeanor, a softening of the hard edges that usually define his stoic facade. His gaze lingers on you for a moment longer than usual, his eyes betraying a depth of emotion that he struggles to conceal. It's as if he's on the verge of breaking through the walls he's built around himself, allowing you a glimpse of the vulnerable man beneath the warrior's mask.\ As he stuffs his hand into his jacket, you notice the subtle shift in his posture, the way his movements seem more deliberate, almost hesitant. His features, usually stern and impassive, soften ever so slightly as he regards you.

There's a moment of silence between you, the only sound is the gentle lapping of waves against the side of the ship. You meet his gaze, your own expression mirroring his uncertainty. "I'm saying that I'm here for you, Zoro," you reply softly, your voice carrying a hint of reassurance. "Whatever you're going through, whatever you need, I'm here."

He takes a step closer, the wooden deck creaking softly beneath his boots. His movements are measured, deliberate, as if he's unsure of himself. He passes you without a single word after the sound of his room door closing with a thud.

Why are you even trying this hard? You groan at the question echoes in your mind, a relentless reminder of your doubts and insecurities. You've poured your heart out, offered him your unwavering support, but it feels like you're shouting into the void, your words lost in the vast expanse of the ocean.

With a frustrated grunt, you kick at the wooden flooring beneath your feet, the sound echoing through the empty space around you. It's as if the ship itself shares in your frustration, the creaking of the deck beneath you a symphony of discontent.

Leaning heavily against the railing, you close your eyes and let the ocean breeze wash over you. Its salty cool breath whips your hair in its favor. You let out a heavy sigh, the weight of your emotions threatening to overwhelm you. Despite your best efforts, despite laying your heart bare for him to see, Zoro remains closed off, unreachable. It's a bitter pill to swallow, a painful reminder of the barriers that still exist between you.

As days turned into a relentless procession of silence, the ship became a vessel of unspoken tension. The memory of that tense encounter on the deck lingered like a stubborn fog, shrouding any attempt at reconciliation. Communication dwindled to mere nods and fleeting glances, each interaction laden with the weight of unspoken words.

Despite your persistent efforts to breach the fortress of Zoro's walls, his demeanor remained steadfastly distant. His stoic facade seemed impenetrable, deflecting every attempt at meaningful conversation or connection. It was as if he had retreated into the depths of his own thoughts, leaving you stranded on the shores of uncertainty.

In the absence of verbal communication, you sought solace in solitude, retreating to the quiet corners of the ship. The rhythmic sway of the vessel became a familiar lullaby, soothing your troubled mind as you grappled with the weight of the silence that enveloped you. Each day felt like an eternity, a relentless cycle of longing and frustration, as the chasm between you widened with every passing moment.

The air itself seemed heavy with the burden of unspoken words, suffocating in its intensity. You yearned for the days when laughter echoed through the halls of the ship, when conversation flowed freely between you and Zoro. But now, that connection felt like a distant memory, fading into the abyss of silence that stretched between you like an unbridgeable divide.

And so, you found yourself navigating the vast expanse of emptiness that now defined your relationship with Zoro. Each day brought with it a renewed sense of longing, a desperate hope that someday, the silence would be broken, and the walls between you would crumble. But until then, you remained adrift in a sea of, clinging to the faintest glimmer of hope that somewhere beyond the horizon, a bridge would emerge to span the chasm that had torn you apart.

The rhythmic crash of the waves against the shore provided a comforting backdrop to your thoughts, a soothing counterpoint to the turmoil brewing within. You reached for a bottle of rum, the amber liquid offering a temporary respite from the burden of unspoken words and unresolved tension.

Beside you, Robin and Nami lounged on the sand, their presence a silent reassurance in the midst of your inner turmoil. Robin's wise eyes watched you with a knowing gaze, her serene demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos raging within you. Nami, ever the pragmatist, leaned back against the sand, her expression thoughtful as she listened to the sound of the waves.

As you took a long swig from the bottle, the fiery liquid burned a trail down your throat, momentarily distracting you from the ache in your heart. You closed your eyes, letting the warmth of the sun and the gentle breeze wash over you, a fleeting moment of peace in the midst of chaos.

But even in the tranquility of the beach, the weight of the silence lingered, casting a shadow over the horizon. You yearned for the days when laughter echoed through the halls of the ship, when conversations were somewhat comfortable, what could you do but live and move on. It was a great divide you wouldn’t sacrifice yourself to fill.

A/n: This was originally supposed to be a little one-shot, However, I do not run the show my imagination does.

#one piece #roronoa zoro #zoro #with: zoro #one piece zoro #strawhat crew #zoro x reader #zoro one piece #fanfic #zoro roronoa x reader #long reads

[project-sekai-facts]

About the mizuki chapter 2, there’s smtg about niigo being represented by animals(rabbit, dog, hedgehog, cat). I was wondering if they used this representation/symbolism before, the only one I know is the last mizuki event

Mafuyu being a rabbit comes from her fes card story, which reveals that her favorite book as a child was about a black rabbit who snuck away from home because it couldn't sleep and ended up meeting a white bunny (sound familiar?). She doesn't remember the rest of the story though. It can be seen in her untrained Memories of Warm Affection card as well.

Ena mentions that she thinks hedgehogs are cute in Mafuyu's Elpis at the Depths of Despair card story. It may also be a metaphor for how Mafuyu sees her - she can be prickly on the outside, but she actually really cares for Mafuyu and is soft underneath that exterior.

I can't think of a story reference for Kanade being a dog, so once again I'm tempted to say it ties to how Mafuyu sees her. Dogs are friendly and loyal, and are the go-to animal for helping people.

Aside from being a reference to Kitty, Mizuki being a cat could also tie to how Mafuyu sees them - someone who's rather mysterious and keeps their distance from others.

#asks #project sekai spoilers #25 ji nightcord de #searching for a reflection beneath the waters

[prosekaipng]

Untrained by: @polycharismas

Trained by: @starcemeterycollective

#mizuki akiyama #25 ji nightcord de #25 ji night code de #nightcord at 25:00 #project sekai #project sekai colorful stage #colorful stage #transparent #png #2023 #4 stars #Searching for a Reflection Beneath the Waters #by: polycharismas #by: starcemeterycollective

[sekainoutahime]

Searching for a Reflection Beneath the Waters

#25 ji night code de #25 ji nightcord de #nightcord at 25:00 #colorful stage #project sekai colorful stage #project sekai #virtual singer #kanade yoisaki #mizuki akiyama #ena shinonome #mafuyu asahina #2023 #Searching for a Reflection Beneath the Waters

[prskcostumes]

Twilight Draw

Twilight Draw is a costume that can be obtained by pulling in any N25-centric gacha past the Limited-Run Heart in Water Gacha! The costume comes with an Exclusive Accessory for Ena and a Standard Accessory!

Alt 1

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#project sekai #colorful stage #project sekai colorful stage #proseka #prsk #ena shinonome #shinonome ena #ena costumes #card costumes #limited card costumes #world link card costumes #Searching for a Reflection Beneath the Waters

[animeweeb115]

“Let's come up with a way to search for them together.”

#project sekai #kanade yoisaki #Searching for a Reflection Beneath the Waters Event #Heart in Water [UNIT LIMITED GACHA] #Overlapping Our Feelings Together #4 Star card

[toruro]

— ✧ the cake in the back

pairing. choi seungcheol x reader

description. cheol is a regular at your bakery, and it's all because his son loves the banana bread you make—at least that's what he tells himself. it also doesn't hurt that you're cute. and polite. and totally someone he'd like to fuck.

genre. smut, fluff

tags. rich dilf cheol, bakery owner reader, or4l (f receiving), car s3x, kitchen s3x, pet names (angel), cr3ampi3, aprons ... hehe

w/c. 3.8k+

a/n. IGNORE THE TITLE OKAY I THOUGHT IT WAS FUNNY. look i know it's corny and i literally am writing this on a whim but happy father's day

"soobin's not with you today?" your voice is cheery and gentle when you greet your regular.

mr. choi smiles and shakes his head. "shocking, i know," he laughs in that deep and velvety tone that has you bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet out of pure giddiness.

"a pleasant surprise," you reply, putting on some gloves as mr. choi approaches the counter. it's near closing, and it's around that time of day where people usually don't come in as much, so you've been alone and just cleaning up the space yourself. "what can i get you, mr. choi?"

the handsome man chuckles, flicking his wrist as he pushes some hair back, the reflective surface of his wrist watch (that you definitely don't want to know the price of because it might just make you pass out) glinting under your bakery's warm lights. "thought i told you to stop calling me that. seungcheol is much better considering ..." he searches for the words for a moment. "... we see each other so regularly," he concludes.

"i've got to maintain some level of professionalism, don't you agree, mr. choi?" you tease. "the regular, i'm assuming? two banana breads?"

"you already know it."

grinning, you nod and pull up a box. "how's soobin? i haven't seen him or you in a while. i'm starting to miss my favorite customer."

"i'm sure soobin would be flattered to hear that. he's doing well, i couldn't bring him today since he's got a swimming class this evening," seungcheol explains, pulling out his wallet that's donned in some brand name that looks so expensive you don't even know how to pronounce it. you move down the counter grab some of the bread which is on your far left, and he walks down on the other side to match you, keeping up the conversation.

"ah yes. he seems to be around that age to start learning. better now than never, honestly. my younger brother didn't learn until he was older and it did not seem easy," you say with a giggle, bringing out the tongs to grab two small loaves.

seungcheol nods in agreement. "that, and i'm planning on taking the two of us on a vacation spot in a few months ... not sure where yet, but soobin's been wanting to go to a beach location for ages," he tells you, and your heart swells.

the image of soobin and seungcheol, goofing around on a beach send a warm feeling through your body. it's also maybe an added plus that there's a flicker in your mind of what seungcheol would look like in nothing but swim trunks, skin shining from the water under the beaming sun, dark hair splayed across his forehead.

you wonder what he's hiding beneath that plain, beige t-shirt of his. his arms are somewhat exposed, and from just the little bit of muscle that peeks out and flexes when he moves around, you think you can safely assume he's got much more going on in the places where your eyes can't reach.

realizing he's still right in front of you, you blink down hard as an attempt to pull yourself back into reality, eyes flickering up at the handsome man in front of you.

"s-sounds fun," you say honestly, packing the bread and handing it to him over the counter. in this moment, seungcheol catches sight of the apron you've got on. it's light pink and hugs your figure so nicely, he can't help but comment on it.

"new apron, huh?"

shyly, you look down and nod. you hadn't expected him to notice. "uh, yeah. my employees got it for me as a birthday gift, actually."

seungcheol furrows his brows as he hands you his card so you can charge him. "it's cute. was your birthday, um, recent?"

you nod casually, tapping at your machine for a second before handing back his card, trying to ignore the way his comment first comment has your stomach flipping and flopping around. "yeah, it was a few days ago."

"i'm sorry, i didn't know," he says sincerely, causing you to frown.

"hey, don't worry about it. it's not something i expect my customers to know and—"

"let me treat you to something," seungcheol says abruptly, cutting you off mid-sentence. he realizes after that it's a bit rude, but something about the way you brush him off as just a customer makes him feel the need to prove you wrong.

"i—i'm sorry?" you ask, and for a moment seungcheol almost mistakes your confusion for apprehension, but then he drinks in the way you look up at him curiously, lips slightly parted, and he relaxes.

"you're closing soon, right? let me ... treat you to something," he repeats. "a coffee or something, if you don't mind."

"oh, i can't possibly impose like that, especially when you've got to pick up soobin and—"

"i wouldn't be offering if you were imposing. he's getting picked up by my friend anyways—his son and soobin are going to have a play date and stuff and—" he's rambling, seungcheol knows that, but he can't seem to care. "basically what i'm saying is you don't have to worry about that. seriously. wait—not that i'm forcing you. you can totally say no, i just ..." he sighs, "don't want you to say no because you think you'll be imposing. 'cause you won't be."

when you smile brightly up at him, eyes glittering and laugh cheery, a wave of relief washes over seungcheol. "i—thank you for the reassurance. i'd love to get coffee, but i do have around twenty more minutes before closing and i still have some stuff i need to clean up and i'm not sure if you—"

"i'll wait." he pauses, then adds, "and help."

you're a bit apprehensive at first—a customer helping you out with closing? but you're quick to learn that once cheol has his mind set on something, it isn't the easiest to pull him away from it—and right now cheol is determined to treat you, as he put it.

the next forty-five minutes is spent with you directing seungcheol around your bakery. he's a surprisingly fast learner and before you know it, all the pastries are loaded in the back, the dishes are cleaned, your floors are swept, and suddenly you find yourself outside of your shop with the doors locked, standing next to seungcheol who watches with you a clouded expression.

"thank you so much for the help," you say bashfully. "you're already taking me—" is it too soon to say he's taking you out? oh well, what's done is done. "—taking me out. isn't this a little too much?" you joke, wiggling your brows.

seungcheol chuckles and shakes his head, pulling his eyes out of his pocket and twirling around the chain around his fingers. fuck, he has really nice fingers—

seungcheol's voice interrupts your thoughts "do you have a car or—"

"i usually take the bus home," you explain, rocking back and forth on your feet. cheol frowns, but doesn't say anything. maybe he can fix that, but that's an thought for another time as he points at his suv, all black from top to bottom, with tinted windows and full black wheels.

there's a silence that envelopes the two of you when you slip into the passenger seat, placing your work bag on the floor. seungcheol is already in the driver's seat, key stuck in but not turning on the engine just yet.

you glance between the sight of your bakery out the window, and back at seungcheol who already has his gaze on you.

"you're going to have to be transparent with me for a second," seungcheol says seriously, locking eyes with you as you shift your body to face him. "and i want to make sure we're on the same page about ..." about whatever is going to go down.

you bite down on your lip, and even though cheol knows you're doing it absentmindedly, he can't help but feel his pants grow tighter at the way it puffs up when your teeth release it.

"i ... i think you know we're on the same page," you reply shyly, shifting a little in your seat to try and make up for the silence.

"you want this?" cheol clarifies, one eyebrow cocked up.

a feeling of pride swelters in his chest when you reply without hesitation, "i do." and then a bit more quietly, you add, "i, uh, have for a while."

now cheol usually likes to tread lightly; he doesn't want to mess around and is great at keeping his dick in his pants but there's just something about the way you look at him so cutely.

you look at him like you know all the nasty things he wants to do to you, and you bat your eyelashes like you don't care—like you'd let him. like you'd take every damn thing he gives you without a single word of complaint, and it's driving him crazy.

again, cheol is great at keeping his foot on the brake, but then you swipe your tongue over your bottom lip and suddenly he's slamming his feet on the accelerator.

wrapping one hand around your neck, he pulls you to smash his lips onto yours. it's a gentle kiss—tentative, as if you're both testing the waters. pressing against each other as your faces tilt, your hands find purchase in his hair when cheol laps at your bottom lip. that's where it all takes off.

the kiss turns from innocent and sweet to sloppy and fast within a matter of moments and suddenly you're grappling at his arms, his hands are searching for your tits, gripping at the flesh and before you know it, you're being thrown to the back.

seungcheol nearly slams your back down onto the seats, your loose shirt riding up your stomach in the process to reveal the lower half of your bra. "fuck," he mutters, low and under his breath in that raspy sort of way that has your clothes feeling too hot and your cunt too empty.

"seungcheol," you moan, unbuttoning your work pants and shoving them off your legs, along with your panties in one go, leaving your wet cunt open and bare. he doesn't take a moment to shuffle back and bring his face down to be level with your core, eyes looking up at you with some kind of mischievous glint that has your stomach churning.

with a bit of hesitance, he places a soft kiss over your clit, watching you carefully to see how you react. when you whine and arch your back against the leather seats, he figures that that reaction is good enough, and this time lets his tongue out, swiping it against the throbbing bad.

"sweet," he murmurs, lips moving down against your folds. the movement and vibrations send sparks through your core and up your spine, and you shudder at the feeling as one hand flies down to grip at his dark hair. "so fuckin' sweet," he repeats before diving his tongue back, swiping it up and down between your folds.

"ah-h-h, seungcheol—fuck," you whimper when he presses the wet muscle flat against your drooling hole, continue to circle around and tease you. fervently, cheol—to put it bluntly—makes out with your cunt. digging his face in between your legs, his nose brushes against your clit when he adjusts his neck to lap and suck against unexplored areas, leaving you mewling into your arm as you try and sit still for him.

there isn't much room in the back, and to be frank, your limbs are in an uncomfy position, and you can only imagine the strain cheol is feeling, bent over and legs in an awkward position when he holds your hips and pulls you closer so he can smother himself in your pussy. he doesn't seem to mind though, lifting his head every few moments to grin up at you with hazy eyes, glossy lips, and a drenched chin, off-handedly commenting something dirty about how nice you taste, how he could live between your legs, how you're driving him fucking insane.

it's the meticulous flicks of his tongue, the deep and guttural words that escape his honeyed lips, and the girth of his fingers when he finally plunges them into your warm cunt that bring you to your edge. it only takes a few rubs and curls against your aching walls before your shaking, crying out his name as you thrust upwards, holding his face down so you can grind against him.

and he whispers the words, "cum angel," so sweetly—a complete contrast to the way his tongue is scooping up all your arousal—and so you cum like you never have before.

fuck my life, you think to yourself as the waves of your orgasm finally hit you. cheol rides you through the high, and he does it good. so good, you're left breathless when he pulls away from your cunt with a dopey smile and feather light kisses all up your thigh and stomach, and then finally your lips.

"my place?" he asks, stroking your cheek gingerly as you blink up at him. and when you nod hazily, he pats you lightly, helping you back to the passenger seat before helping you slip on your panties and pants back on. this time, when cheol gets back into the driver's seat, he places one hand on the steering wheel, the other secure over your still quivering thigh. "relax angel," he murmurs, and you can't help but burn at the gentle words. this can't be the same man who ate you out like you were damn piece of cake just moments earlier.

the drive is quiet, but not uncomfortable. if anything, you're fucking enthralled. when he stops at a red light, cheol looks over at you and when your eyes meet you can't help but giggle together until you're cheeky, grinning mess by the time you pull up to his house.

parking in the lavish drive way, cheol tells you to hold on for a second, getting out of the car and making his way to your side, to open the door for you.

"i didn't know that this what you meant by coffee," you giggle, stumbling out next to him and letting him wrap an arm around your waist to help you up the steps to his house. it's a beautiful estate, really, but you aren't too focused on admiring the luxury right now—you're much more interested in what's to come between you and cheol.

and you're about to find out soon enough because as soon as he opens the door, lets you in, and closes it behind you, cheol's hands are all over you. with your eyes closed as you two engage in a hot mess of tongue and teeth and lips, your rocking back and forth in his arms, his legs leading to you to some place you're not really aware of until you feel something hard and cool press against your lower back.

"wear the apron," cheol tells you firmly when he pulls away, pressing you against his cold stone counter. you knit your eyebrows together in confusion, but let your bag that's still on your shoulder drop onto the counter, taking out your apron without hesitation.

it's now that you realize you're in his kitchen. if you weren't in such a ... intimate setting, you would have admired the design, the appliances—all of it. perhaps you'd even wonder what it's like to bake in here, cooking up soobin's favorite banana bread with cheol by your side and—you save those thoughts for another time.

"w-why?" you murmur in response to cheol's request, as you pull the apron out, pulling the pink strap over your head, tying it behind your back as the ache between your legs begins to creep up on you again. cheol's big hands find purchase on your hips again, holding down you down with a firm grip as he turns you around and pushes your back down.

"'cause," he grunts out, and you nearly moan when you hear the sound of his belt unbuckling and fabric rustling as he shoves his pants and boxers down. it hardly takes a second before his hands are at the hem of your own pants, yanking them down and giving you a moment so you can step out of them.

you wiggle your ass around for a second, turning to look back at cheol with pleading eyes and ask him to just fuck you already, but then he locks a hand under your jaw, cupping the underside of your face and pulling it up so your back arches into his touch. you can feel the angry, hard head of his cock prodding against the plush of your ass and the feeling of him brush against you has you whining.

"patience, angel," he coos, pressing his face next to the shell of your ear and placing a soft kiss on the crown of your head before easing his way through your folds. you can't even see him but you just know he's big—fat length rubbing up and down your folds as he coats himself in your arousal as you whisper incoherent pleas for more.

"cheolie ..." the nickname slips from your lips with out as much as a brainless thought but it has cheol's head rewiring.

"fuck, say that again," he demands, snaking the hand that's not holding your face down your back until it's gripping the cute little bow of your apron.

you hum as you feel him tugging at the fabric, jerking your body backwards and pushing your cunt harder against him, the fat tip brushing against your sensitive clit. "cheolie!" you mewl again, and you're really not expecting the way he jams his cock into you in one go. not that you're complaining of course.

'cause how could you complain when he's stretching you out so nicely? when his cock is so long it's already hitting kissing your cervix and hitting spots inside of you that you didn't even think were possible to reach? when he's so deep that his balls are pressed against your burning core and his pelvis is flush against your ass?

"you feel so good," cheol moans, and you squeeze around him even tighter when you hear the low, gruff words escape his lips. "this pussy was made for me, huh?" he breathes out with a chuckle, as he pulls out halfway before pulling the strings of the apron so your core meets him halfway, slamming his cock back into you.

"oh god," you moan loudly, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you try and swivel your hips against his for some added stimulation.

"gonna think abt this every time you wear this, won't you?" cheol grunts, twisting his fingers around the bow in the back so he hold onto it tighter.

the thought runs through your fucked out mind for a moment; you're gonna have to walk into work tomorrow, and if you're wearing the apron, you'll have to sit through the day knowing that you had cheol's cock buried inside of you under this same fabric—if you aren't wearing it, you'll have to come up with an excuse for your lovely employees as to why you're not wearing their precious gift.

which option you're going to go with, though, is swept from your mind when cheol sticks a finger into your mouth and presses down on your tongue as he fucks into you harder.

what a moment, you think. getting railed on the counter of a man who you always thought was out of reach. your insides feel like jelly as his fat cock runs against your walls, veins and curves pressing and dragging through you as heat envelopes you.

and as his thrusts increase in force, you start to realize that cheol is nothing if he is not relentless. just when you think you've whimpered his name so much you think you might lose your voice, he's ramming into you harder, punching the air right out of your lungs as broken moans and squeaks that have him losing his damn mind.

"what a fuckin' angel, creaming me cock so well," he praises, yanking you back and forth at an unforgiving pace to match his calculated thrusts. you feel like you're being thrown around in the best way possible, body throttling every time his hips crash against your ass and cause you to lurch forward and arch your back even more.

and as he goes on, the rub of his cock against you, the press of his balls against your clit, his hand in your mouth and pressing against your jaw—it's all so much and so fast and so good until you're shaking and thrashing in his hold.

"mmf—cheolie, wan' cum," you choke out when you feel his cock twitch inside of you.

"yeah? my pretty angel's gon' cum on my cock?"

"yeah-huh," you answer dazedly, body jerking back and forth as his hips snap more haphazardly now, but still hitting that one sweet spot that has your vision going bleary. "can i cum, cheolie?"

and you ask him so fucking sweetly, he can't hold it in anymore, dazedly grunting out something along the lines of, "yeah, angel, cum f'me," before he spills his hot seed inside of you. the sensation of his cum painting your walls white is the final thing you need before joining cheol with your own orgasm, clenching around him so tightly that it has him gripping down on your hips in a way that you know you'll have bruises tomorrow. not that you mind.

how could you, when you just had the most mind blowing orgasm of your life with the hottest guy you've ever met. as you twitch against him, cheol finally pulls himself out and you whimper lowly at the feeling of being empty even though you know you'd probably pass out if you had his dick in you any longer.

gently, cheol strokes your back and caresses the taught muscles, untying the apron that quite literally had you in a chokehold, letting it fall from your figure. "'m sorry," he murmurs into your neck, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder, "was i too rough?"

"n-no," you say, face burning when you realize just how croaky and fucked your voice has become. cheol only laughs at you as you dig your face into your hands as you mumble bashfully, "it was ... great." you're slightly embarrassed, yes, but when you catch the look of endearment on cheol's face, you start to think twice.

as you both attempt to even out your breaths, cheol looks down at you panting against the counter, cum spilling out of your fluttering folds. vaguely, he wonders what you'll look like in a bikini in the bahamas. huh, he thinks, maybe he'll have to ask soobin if it's okay to bring an extra certain someone with them on their vacation this summer.

a/n. how i managed to get this out in one day i don't know. the cheol effect i guess. anyways, hope u enjoyed!

tags. @xcynthiaaa @synthetickitsune @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @blinkjunhui @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji @marzmeltdown @todorokiskitten (strikethrough could not be tagged)

#seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol smut #seungcheol x reader #scoups imagines #scoups x reader #scoups smut #seventeen imagines #svt smut #svt scenarios #seventeen scenarios #seventeen smut #📝 writing

[yuutx]

ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐎𝐇, 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘 ~ ! (𝒢𝐸𝒯𝒪 𝒮𝒰𝒢𝒰𝑅𝒰)

sailor! geto suguru x f! siren! reader ﾉ 18+ content. ﾉ mythological creature au ﾉ nsfw + unprotected sex / raw sex ﾉ size kink ﾉ handjob ﾉ dirty talk ﾉ praise kink ﾉ slight degrading kink ﾉ hair pulling ﾉ clit play ﾉ tongue kissing ﾉ riding ﾉ orgasm denial ﾉ creampie ﾉ msub → mdom + fdom → fsub ﾉ not proofread ! ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა

i was literally ab 2 give up on this fic,, supa supa glad i didn't ! ! i rllie luv this idea 'n had a fun ( but sorta frustratin ) time writing it ! art credits go 2 @/shiraki_shiki on twitter ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !

The water lapped against the side of the boat, the gentle current rocking the wooden vessel. The sun was beginning to set, the sky painted in hues of pinks and purples, the colors reflecting off the waves. The wind rustled through the leaves of the trees, a faint breeze carrying the scent of sea salt and pine, the air heavy with humidity. Geto hummed softly, the tune a familiar one, the sound of his voice echoing in the silence. You swam beneath the surface, keeping just out of view, peering up at him through the crystal-clear waters.

Your tail swished, propelling you through the water, your scales shimmering in the dying sunlight. You watched him, studying his every movement, the way his hands moved deftly, his fingers curling around the rope, tying the knots securely. He worked with ease, his expression relaxed, his dark hair swept back, a few strands falling loose. You found yourself drawn to him, your curiosity growing, the urge to get closer, to learn more about him, gnawing at you. The many sailors you had seen before had been quite.. unsightly, but he was different. His skin was smooth and pale, his features sharp and angular, a strong jawline and high cheekbones. And his eyes, his eyes were what caught your attention the most. They were dark and intense, like twin pools of obsidian, a deep, endless void, the pupils dilated, the reflection of the sun dancing on the surface of the water. You felt entranced by them, your gaze never wavering, the intensity of his stare making your skin prickle.

You drifted closer, your fins fanning out, the tips of them breaking the surface, rippling through the waves.

A soft, delicate voice caught his attention, the melodic sound drifting towards him, his name being carried by the wind. He looked up, a frown tugging at the corner of his mouth. He scanned the horizon, his brow furrowed, a spark of unease flickering in his eyes. He had heard that same sound before, a few nights prior, and he had dismissed it, assuming it was the product of his imagination, but now he was certain that he had heard it, a haunting, beautiful voice calling out to him.

His heart hammered in his chest, his pulse quickening, his palms sweating. There was something in the water, he could feel it. It was watching him, waiting. A creature, a beast. He had read the legends, he knew the stories. The tales of sirens, half-fish, half-human, that lured sailors to their deaths, singing their hypnotizing songs. What he didn't know was that you didn't want to kill him, in fact, quite the opposite.

You could smell him, his scent drifting towards you, his blood pumping through his veins, the scent of his skin and sweat filling the air. The water was tinged with a metallic tang, his fear making your mouth water, the scent of him invading your nostrils.

"What are you doing out here all alone?"

He turned his head, searching for the source of the voice, but he couldn't see anything, the shadows too thick, the ocean too vast. He swallowed, the sound loud and harsh, his throat dry. "Show yourself." He demanded, his voice strained. You chuckled, the sound echoing through the air, the tone laced with amusement. You swam closer, the surface of the water rippling around you, your tail splashing in the waves. Your fins brushed against the hull of the ship, the contact sending a shiver down your spine. You hummed, a low, musical tone, the notes flowing freely, the sound lilting and sweet. He froze, his eyes wide, his breath catching in his throat. "Where are you?" He called out, his voice cracking, his fingers clutching the rope, his knuckles turning white. "I'm here." You answered, your lips curling into a smirk, a mischievous glint flashing in your eyes. He turned, his gaze roaming over the surface of the water, the moonlight reflecting off the ripples, a faint shimmer catching his eye. You hummed again, the notes flowing freely, the sound reverberating in the air. He shivered, goosebumps prickling his skin, the sound wrapping around him, sinking into his bones.

"You're a pretty one, aren't you? All big and strong. So handsome." You purred, the compliment sounding genuine, the praise sending a rush of heat through him. He felt dizzy, lightheaded, his pulse thundering in his ears. "Why don't you come a little closer, hm? Let me take a look at you." You cooed, the words dripping from your tongue like honey. He hesitated, his muscles tense, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. He knew the consequences, he knew the risk. But he couldn't deny the pull, the magnetic force that drew him in. He inched closer, the boat creaking beneath his feet, the wood groaning under his weight. The scent of him was intoxicating, the heady, masculine scent making your mouth water, your fangs bared, the points digging into your bottom lip. "What's your name, sailor boy?" You asked, the question laced with a playful edge, the words teasing.

"Geto. Geto Suguru." He answered, his tone clipped, his gaze sweeping over the ocean. His eyes widened as you came into view, your tail glistening in the moonlight, the scales shimmering, a rainbow of colors reflected on the surface of the water. Your fins twitched, the translucent appendages rippling, the thin membrane stretching outwards. "Sugu.. what a cute name." You giggled, your voice taking on a flirtatious tone, the sound making his heart skip a beat.

"Thank you." He mumbled, his cheeks flushing, the compliment flustering him. He stared at you, taking in your features, the soft curves of your body, the shape of your waist, the swell of your breasts, the delicate features of your face. You were beautiful, ethereal. You reminded him of a doll, a porcelain sculpture. His eyes darted to your face, his gaze flickering over your skin, your scales, the shimmering iridescence of your fins. "You're not human." He whispered, his words coming out as a statement rather than a question.

"Of course I'm not, silly." You raised a hand, reaching out, your fingers grazing the hull of the boat, the tips of your claws raking against the wood. "But I think you already knew that, didn't you, Suguru?" He shivered, his body reacting to the way you said his name, the sound of his given name on your lips making him weak. You smiled, your teeth flashing, the points glinting in the light, the sight of them making his heart leap into his throat. "Tell me, sailor boy, have you ever been with a girl like me before?"

You asked, your voice taking on a husky, breathless note, a hint of desperation creeping into your tone. Sirens weren't meant to be alone, and the lack of contact was beginning to wear on you. "No." He murmured, his mind wandering, the image of you, your naked body pressed against his, flashing in his mind.

"No? Hm.." A feigned pout formed on your lips, your gaze drifting lower, settling on the tent forming in his pants. "Oh, I see. Is that for me, sailor boy?" You teased, the words making his cheeks heat up, a fresh wave of embarrassment washing over him. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words got stuck in his throat, his tongue feeling heavy. He let out a strangled moan, the sound spilling from his lips before he could stop it. Your gaze snapped up, a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth, a devious glint flashing in your eyes.

You reached out a hand, trailing your fingertips over the material of his trousers, a delighted giggle escaping you when he twitched, his hips jerking forward. "So sensitive.." You mused, the sound of your voice sending a jolt through him, his cock throbbing in his pants.

"Well, help me up then, won't you? It's only polite to invite a lady on board, isn't it?"

You batted your lashes at him, the motion exaggerated, a teasing smile playing upon your lips. He nodded, his movements clumsy, his limbs stiff. He reached down, his fingers curling around your wrist, his skin brushing against yours. He pulled you out of the water, your tail flicking in the air, then disappearing and separating into legs instead as he placed you on the deck.

Your seashell bra fell loose, your nipples pebbling, the cool night air causing them to stiffen. He swallowed thickly, his eyes raking over your form, taking in the sight of your plush curves, your soft skin, the way your breasts heaved with each breath you took. His cock twitched, his arousal becoming painfully obvious, his erection straining against the fabric of his pants. Your soft tune resumed, the melody flowing through him, the sound sending shivers down his spine. He was trapped, enthralled, hypnotized. Your voice was soothing, intoxicating, a sweet nectar, dripping from your lips. He couldn't look away, his gaze never leaving yours, the intensity of your stare making him feel weak, a rush of heat flooding his veins. Your lips curled into a grin, a smug expression flitting across your features, the sight of him falling under your spell, giving into your song, pleasing you.

The tension was palpable, a thick fog settling over him, a haze of desire clouding his mind. "Why don't you show me what's hiding in those pants, sailor boy?" You whispered, your voice low and husky, the sound causing goosebumps to break out across his skin. He fumbled with the zipper, the material sliding down his legs, his boxers tenting, his hard cock straining against the cotton. Every one of your words took over him, controlling his body, making him obey. Your voice was his master, the sound of your melody commanding him, his willpower waning, the last of his resolve slipping away.

You reached up, your hands finding his shoulders, gripping the material of his shirt, pushing him backwards. He stumbled, the force of your shove catching him off guard, his back hitting the wooden floorboards. He hissed, the impact sending a jolt of pain through him, the dull ache throbbing in his lower back. You crawled on top of him, your knees bracketing his hips, your fingers tracing patterns on his skin, the touch light and teasing. You ground your hips down, the heat of your pussy seeping through his boxers, the dampness soaking through the fabric. He moaned, the noise getting lost in the back of his throat, his jaw going slack, his eyelids fluttering. Your hips rocked, the motion smooth and fluid, a steady rhythm. You hummed, the sound vibrating through his body, his cock twitching in response. "Such a pretty human, aren't you?" You murmured, the praise making his skin prickle, his cheeks flushing, the heat rising to the surface, coloring his skin. You leaned forward, your lips ghosting over his jaw, trailing over the column of his throat. You nipped at his flesh, the contact sharp and sudden, the sensation causing his pulse to quicken. "Suguru.." You sighed, the sound soft and breathy, a hint of desperation creeping into your tone. He shuddered, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, his nails biting into your skin, the stinging pain causing you to whimper. You tugged at the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down, freeing his aching cock, a breeze causing his heated skin to cool. You wrapped a hand around him, the warmth of your palm encasing his shaft, a groan escaping him, the contact making his body quiver. He was huge, his girth and length making you tremble, a delicious mix of apprehension and anticipation thrumming through you.

"Such a big boy." You cooed, a playful edge to your voice, your thumb swiping over the head of his cock, smearing the beads of precum gathered there. You pumped him, your fist gliding over his heated flesh, the rhythm slow and lazy. "A-ah, fuck.." He groaned, his hips jerking, the motion involuntary, a reflex. "F-feels good.." He slurred, his words slurring together, the combination of his moans and the way his cock throbbed in your palm making you wet, a fresh wave of slick coating your inner thighs. You pressed the pad of your thumb against his slit, the pressure making him cry out, a loud moan escaping him, his back arching. His eyes rolled back, his mouth hanging open, a string of curses and profanities falling from his lips. "Fuck, fuck, fuck.. oh god, please." He babbled, his voice cracking, a strangled whimper spilling from his lips, the sound desperate and needy. Your grip tightened, the pace of your strokes quickening, his hips thrusting upwards, his movements frantic. You watched him, his body writhing beneath yours, the sight of him coming undone making your blood boil, your lust building, a fire burning in the pit of your stomach.

Geto felt the familiar coil of pleasure tightening in his abdomen, the feeling threatening to snap, his release nearing. "Fuck, I-I'm gonna cum." He gasped, the words tumbling from his lips, his eyes screwing shut. You stopped, your hand stilling, your grip loosening. He whined, the sound high-pitched and pathetic, his cock throbbing in your palm. "What are you doing?" He growled, his tone frustrated, his expression one of disbelief. You smiled, a smug, self-satisfied grin, your fangs flashing. "You're not cumming yet, baby." You purred, the word falling from your tongue, the pet name making his cock twitch. You lifted yourself off him, a whine of protest falling from his lips. You spread your legs, your knees planted on either side of him, your hands gripping the edge of the deck. He watched, his gaze roaming over your body, his eyes widening when you sank down, your dripping pussy swallowing his cock, the warmth of your walls enveloping him. "Fuck.." He cursed, the sound coming out as a hiss, his grip on your hips tightening, his fingertips digging into your skin, the stinging pain making you gasp. You braced yourself, your palms flat against his chest, using him for leverage, your body moving on its own, instinct taking over.

You rolled your hips, the movement slow and experimental, the drag of his cock against your walls sending a jolt through you, the sensation causing you to clench around him. The feeling of being filled was foreign, strange, and you felt your body struggling to adjust to his size, the stretch causing an ache to bloom deep in your core. "God, you're fucking tight.." He groaned, his breathing ragged, the strain of holding himself back, evident on his face. "Mm, I bet you've thought about this, haven't you? You've fantasized about a pretty girl like me riding your big cock, haven't you, Sugu?" You asked, the words punctuated with a roll of your hips, the tip of his cock pressing against a spot inside you, the contact sending sparks of pleasure racing through your being.

He moaned in response, his lips pressed into a thin line. His fingers gripped the wooden floorboards, the tips of his nails scraping against the surface, leaving behind deep scratches. He bucked his hips upwards, the force causing you to yelp, a loud cry of surprise escaping you. He set a brutal pace, his cock slamming into you, the motion making your body quiver. He groaned, the sound a mix of pain and pleasure, the feeling of your pussy stretching around him, almost too much to bear. Your thighs quivered, your muscles trembling. You weren't used to this, the feeling of being so full, the sensation of his cock filling you up, making you feel like you were being split in half.

He fucked into you relentlessly, groans and grunts falling from his lips, his face screwed up in a mask of concentration. He could feel his climax approaching, the tension in his abdomen building, the familiar sensation of pleasure coiling in his stomach. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum." He moaned, the sound guttural and raw, the words a warning. Your grip on his chest tightened, your fingers digging into his skin, the points of your nails pinpricking his flesh. You leaned down, your breath hot and heavy, your teeth grazing his throat, nipping at the exposed skin, before you were tossed over onto your back, the change in position causing you to gasp, your body quivering.

Geto hovered above you, his arms caging you in, his hair falling loose, the strands tickling your face. His eyes were dark, his pupils blown wide, a look of feral hunger crossing his features. "You.." He panted. "You're such a tease." He growled, his words laced with a hint of venom. His fingers tangled in your hair, his grip tight, the pull stinging, causing you to whimper. He pulled, the strands wrapped around his fingers, yanking your head back, exposing the column of your throat. He leaned down, his teeth sinking into the soft flesh, the bite painful and sharp, a choked cry of pleasure spilling from your lips. His hips snapped forward, his cock slamming into you, a loud moan escaping him. The sounds that came from him were guttural and primal, animalistic. The noise was unlike anything you had heard before, a mixture of growls and groans, the sound making your body quiver, a shudder wracking your frame. "Little minx." He grunted, his grip on your hair tightening, the sting causing tears to prick the corners of your eyes. "Such a dirty girl, aren't you? Soaking my cock like this." His breath was hot and heavy against your ear, the heat of his breath making you squirm, a wave of embarrassment washing over you. "You like that, don't you? Like it when I talk dirty to you?" He murmured, his voice a low, seductive drawl. Your pussy clenched around him, a whimper escaping you. He chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. "So fucking cute." He breathed, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

He pulled away, his gaze flickering down, taking in the sight of his cock disappearing into your dripping cunt, his length glistening, coated in your slick. His thrusts were deep and powerful, his cock hitting spots within you that you never knew existed. His pace was unrelenting, his movements frantic, his hips slamming into you, a loud slap ringing through the air, the sound echoing. "F-fuck, Suguru.." You gasped, the sound coming out as a strangled sob. "Please.." You pleaded, the word drawn out, your voice strained, the tone high and desperate. He smirked, his lips curling into a lopsided grin, a devious glint flashing in his eyes. His fingers found your clit, his touch light, the pressure making you jolt, a broken cry of pleasure escaping you. "That's it, that's a good girl." He praised, the words tumbling from his lips, the praise sending a rush of heat through your body. His fingers circled the sensitive bud, the pads of his digits massaging the swollen flesh, his movements slow and deliberate. "Sexy little thing.. all for me, aren't you? You're mine." He growled, the statement sounding more like a claim than a question. "All fucking mine."

You moaned, his words igniting a fire deep in your core, your body responding to his every touch, his every word, your desire burning, consuming you. "Yesyesyesyesyes!! A-All yours! Mmh-!" You cried out, the words tumbling from your lips, your voice a breathless, keening whine. His fingers continued their ministrations, his thumb rubbing firm, insistent circles against your clit, the contact making you arch, your back bowing off the floor. You reached out, your arms wrapping around his neck, your fingertips digging into his shoulders, your nails biting into his skin, leaving behind red welts. You clung to him, your hold on him tight, the only thing anchoring you, keeping you sane. "S'.. close..!" You whimpered, the sound barely audible, the words slurring together, the syllables blending into each other, incoherent babbling. He grunted, his fingers working furiously, the movement of his digits rough and uneven, his pace faltering. His thrusts became frantic, his movements erratic, his hips snapping forward, the motion harsh and jarring. "Gonna.. cum.. cum inside this gorgeous pussy." He panted, the words spilling from his lips, his mind hazy, the only thing he could think about was you, the way your body reacted to his, the way you fit so perfectly around him, squeezing him like a vice.

"M-mmhhmm! Pleasepleaseplease!" You begged, and his lips crashed against yours, a bruising kiss, the intensity stealing your breath away. His tongue slipped into your mouth, the intrusion hot and wet, the slick muscle sliding against yours, his taste flooding your senses, the flavor of his saliva filling your mouth. His grip on your hair tightened, his fist pulling, yanking the strands, the sharp sting causing you to yelp, a loud, wanton moan escaping you. Your eyes rolled back, the pleasure becoming overwhelming, your release imminent. Your walls fluttered, clenching around him, a strangled gasp escaping you, the feeling making him grunt, the sound rumbling through his chest. Sloppy, wet noises filled the sea air, the sounds of skin slapping against skin, mixing with the symphony of moans and groans, the melody reverberating throughout the ship. "M-'m gonna.. gonna cum!" You managed to choke out into his mouth, the words muffled by his lips. His hips jerked, a few hard, punishing thrusts, before he buried himself inside you, his cock pulsing, the feeling making you whimper. His lips smashed yours harder, the kiss sloppy and uncoordinated, his mouth becoming more and more demanding as he came, the warm, sticky liquid coating your insides, his seed painting your walls. The sensation of his cum spilling inside you, coupled with the relentless pressure on your clit, was enough to send you over the edge, a powerful orgasm washing over you, your pussy clenching, squeezing his cock, a high-pitched scream tearing from your throat, the sound echoing through the night air.

He continued to fuck you through your climax, his thrusts erratic, the rhythm uneven and haphazard, his movements faltering as he rode out his orgasm, the aftershocks of pleasure rippling through his body, the sensations almost too much to bear. His thrusts slowed, his pace becoming sluggish, the momentum fading, his hips rolling, his movements lazy, his cock still buried inside you, the feeling of him stretching you out making you whine.

He finally stilled, his breath heavy, his lungs burning. He pulled away, his lips detaching from yours, a string of saliva connecting you, the strands snapping, falling against your chin. His chest heaved, his pulse racing, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. "That.. was fucking amazing.." He panted, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, his expression smug, his cockiness palpable. He chuckled, the sound low and husky, a soft, contented sigh slipping from his lips. He looked down, his gaze flickering between the two of you, his eyes focusing on the space where your bodies were joined, his softening cock still sheathed inside you. "My pretty little siren.. you really were made for this, weren't you?" He cooed, his voice taking on a playful tone, a hint of teasing creeping into his words. You blushed, the color rising to the surface, your cheeks flushing, a pretty pink spreading across your face. You giggled, the sound sweet and innocent, the sound sending a rush of heat through him. "Oh, Suguru.. you have no idea."

#୧ ‧₊˚ ☆ athena's creations ! #getou suguru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #x reader #jjk suguru #jjk geto #suguru geto #getou suguru x you #suguru geto smut #geto x you #geto smut #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru #jujutsu geto #geto x y/n #jujutsu kaisen suguru #jujutsu suguru #suguru x reader #suguru x you #geto x female reader #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #suguru x y/n #jjk x fem!reader

[loveinhawkins]

Eddie lingers by the Lite-Brite, while Robin and Nancy thunder downstairs in search of the bikes; Steve can hear the echo of their voices as they go, Robin insisting that she get, “—the coolest looking bike, Nance, that’s only fair considering your goddamn outfit nearly strangled me,” followed by Nancy’s answering laughter.

Eddie doesn’t look like he’s heard them at all. Looks like he’s in a world of his own, actually.

His fingers trail through the air, creating a path of golden shimmers. His eyes are wide, entranced, and he suddenly looks so peaceful that the sight actually threatens to choke Steve up.

Maybe it’s a small thing compared to everything else. But Steve thinks it’s monumental: how despite every horror that he’s witnessed, despite everything, Eddie’s still reaching for the light.

The thought is familiar, a reminder of how he’d felt just minutes before, hearing Dustin and Erica’s triumphant giggles—hope and affection catching in his throat.

He’d almost forgotten that all of this could be fun, too.

Eddie’s fingers keep weaving—he doubles back on himself several times, like he’s trying to draw the light into his palm. There’s no discernible pattern to his movements, no half-formed words Steve can make out—he only sees Eddie’s complete and utter contentment in doing nothing but this: just drinking the moment in.

It makes Steve think of how he used to consider the Fourth of July as a kid. Before the big fireworks show, when it felt like time had slowed, like the whole world had narrowed down to just him and a dazzling sparkler in his hand.

Steve watches on, leaning against the doorframe; he wants—suddenly, desperately—to give Eddie all the time in the world.

But he has to settle for counting out increasingly long seconds in his head. Then he suppresses a sigh, gives a gentle tap, tap along the wall.

“Eddie,” Steve says softly. Then, when Eddie still hasn’t heard, just a touch louder: “Eddie.”

Eddie startles, blinking rapidly. His eyes refocus, land on Steve—but a slightly dreamy, captivated quality remains, as if he’s still seeing an afterimage of the lights.

“Oh,” he says, sounds almost sheepish.

“Hey,” Steve says, smiling. “You doing good over there? You look like you found proof that, like, Santa’s real or something.”

Eddie chuckles under his breath, but he doesn’t reply.

His hand returns to that spot again, dipping in and out of the light like he’s sat by a creek, fingers dragging through the water.

“Y’know,” Eddie begins, so quietly. Achingly wistful. “If it was all like this… I wouldn’t mind it.”

The feeling hits, tugs on Steve’s breastbone. It doesn’t hurt.

He keeps looking at Eddie, at the flickers of gold reflected in his pupils, and he silences the part of himself that insists he shouldn’t have time for this, and just thinks it anyway.

You’re beautiful, Eddie Munson.

That’s all. Nothing else, no qualifications.

Maybe here, things can be simple. Just this once.

Eddie drops his hand. The light fades away, but he’s staring at Steve, like something else has inexplicably been lit up right in front of him.

“What?” Steve says.

“Nothing,” Eddie says, almost a whisper. “Sometimes I just. I just think. You, um—you look at me like…”

Slowly, slowly, Steve steps further into the room.

“Like what?”

Another step.

Eddie shakes his head. “Nothing,” he says. Adds nonsensically, “Must’ve been a trick of the light.”

“I don’t think so,” Steve says.

He reaches out a hand. Feels the warmth beneath his palm.

Eddie lifts his hand, so hesitantly. He edges ever closer, until the shimmery trails from their fingertips begin to merge into one.

Until their hands intertwine.

For a moment, Eddie stands frozen, and Steve’s ready to draw back.

But then Eddie inhales. He’s not looking at the lights, not anymore.

He’s looking at me, Steve thinks.

Perhaps has been for a while.

“Yes?” Eddie murmurs, lips barely moving.

“Yes,” Steve says.

He leans in.

The kiss is a small thing, really. Warm, tentative touches—a stumble before finding each other in the dark.

Such a small thing.

But to Steve, it’s monumental.

He feels it in his chest, like a tidal wave, and as he brings a hand up to cradle the side of Eddie’s face, he thinks that the lights are somehow in his chest too, like they’re both swallowing flecks of gold until they’re glowing with it, until the beams’ll shoot out of their fingers, their toes, the ends of their hair.

And here, in this house that’s frozen in time, it somehow feels like they’re stealing more of it, precious seconds, minutes—hell, give me hours, Steve thinks euphorically, give me years—

“Steve!” calls Robin’s voice distantly, and they both jump. “Get your ass in gear or I’m gonna slash your tires.”

“Uh, have a little patience, puh-lease!” Steve returns, a role reversal from all the times she’s run late for him to pick her up.

Eddie blinks, looks as if he’s holding his breath again; his eyes flicker over Steve’s face, like he’s expecting him to pull away.

Steve doesn’t.

A tender, lovely smile spreads across Eddie’s face.

And then they’re laughing into each other’s mouths.

And laughing leads to more…

“Harrington,” Eddie says, but he’s smiling too much for it to come across as remotely serious.

“Just a little longer,” Steve says—feels like he’s back in high school, joyful and silly.

Eddie laughs breathily; Steve presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, swallows the sound.

“If Buckley slashes your tires, you’re gonna have to, like, book it alongside us.”

“Or we could share a bike.”

A disbelieving, fond chuckle. “Steve.”

Eddie breaks away only to lean back in and kiss Steve’s cheek instead—and for some reason that’s the thing to make Steve’s breathing truly catch.

They’re still holding hands; he rediscovers that fact when Eddie grins slyly and pulls him to the door.

“Let’s go.”

“All right, all right, jeez.”

The room is left in darkness, but they’re laughing as they race each other downstairs—and though the shimmers have dissolved, they’re still leaving light in their wake, wherever they go next.

#missing moments we meet again ❤️ #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie

[lokisgoodgirl]

Heirs [Asgard!Loki x Fem.Reader]

A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Loki starts your marriage by breaking tradition. Naturally. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Fluff & Smut. Oral. Asgardian HC Lore. Language. Loki POV. (w/c 1.9k)

Loki’s eyes followed the ripples your palms made over the water. Over the curve of your back. The delicate line of your spine. Steam rose in a mist, braiding upwards in the amber glow of sunset through the arched windows.

Sodden rose petals clung delicately to your waist, peppered sporadically on your skin like clean wounds. Beautiful, he thought, letting his robe fall with a rustle around his ankles to the ancient stone of the palace baths.

He smirked as you turned with a splash, instinctually covering your breasts before breaking into a smile. “Husband,” you giggled in greeting. It was the first time you had said it.

The word made him shiver, despite the heat thumping between his legs.

Loki enjoyed the slow crawl of your eyes up his body. You took in every inch of his long legs with the unrestrained hunger of a horny stable-hand, thumbs beginning to subconsciously massage your nipples. There was a flicker of pink as your tongue flashed over your lips, gaze lingering on his cock heavy set between tensed thighs. All yours, my love.

The water was perfectly warm. Hot – but not overly so. Carefully controlled thermal springs which ran into the palace saw to that. With each step into the stilling pool he took, you took a step back.

Even now wed, still ever the tease. Loki’s lips stretched in a mischievous smile, matching your own.

Heat kissed his knees, then his thighs, then his hips– dipping backwards to wet his hair in the perfumed baths. He could feel the weight sink into the tight weaves of his ceremonial braids, wound from his temples, the ends sinking down between floating strands of black. He rose up, rivulets running from his temples down to the nook of his collarbone. The Prince let out a small groan as you reclined on the steps by the side of the pool, only the curve of your mounds visible above gently lapping water. Beautiful.

You bit your lip, resting your elbows on the side. Waiting.

“I might even apologise for interrupting but I believe that would not be the most auspicious start to our marriage,” he coyed, before stopping directly in front of you.

He could feel the cool of your breath against his skin, wafting in teasing waves over the fat tip of his cock protruding from the water. “There will be plenty of time for lies, I'm sure,” you replied with a knowing smile, neck craning up.

Loki shivered again as your lips melded against his stomach, thumbs pressing into his obliques while your fingers curled around his trunk. He could feel droplets roll between his shoulder-blades as his neck tilted back. The feeling of your fingers wrapping around his base of his cock, the gentle suck of your mouth on the thick, swollen head threatening to make his knees buckle. How long he had waited for this. How long you had both waited for this.

“Stop,” he gasped, just as you primed to swallow him whole. Loki would never forget the way your eyes shone with innocent confusion. He looked forward to seeing that moment reflected in your beautiful gaze many times in the coming years. The god bent down, capturing your lips with a messy kiss while he slid beside you on the stone seat concealed beneath the surface.

“Do you know," he began, pausing to brush a thumb over your lips, "that the royal men of Asgard are forbidden from pleasuring their wives with their mouths?” His eyes searching yours, nerves fluttering in his belly. “I have heard it said,” you hummed, curling a thick ebony strand of Loki’s wet hair around your finger. “But it never made sense to me.”

Loki chuckled, leaning forwards to suck gently against your neck.

His tongue would never sate from the taste of your skin. Never. He let out a rasping moan in your ear, one of his hands sliding between your open thighs beneath the water.

The tips of his fingers grazed the plump folds he found, the arch of your back against the terracotta making his shaft twitch against his stomach. “You see, if my tongue is buried between your thighs, wife, it is not my cock.”

“Heirs?” you asked, feigning innocence.

“Heirs.” Loki smirked. You rolled your eyes playfully as his finger trailed lazily down your inner thigh, dragging softly over your knee.

“The most beautiful sounds a woman can make are thus,” he postured casually, leaning one elbow on the side with a fist beneath his temple. Your palms slid teasingly over his stomach, inching further with each time-wasting word. “Firstly, the primal grunt as her blade pierces the flesh of her enemy. And second...”

Loki paused to follow the descent of a particularly fliratatious droplet down the curve of your neck with one long finger, “the shameless groan in her throat as she cums into the mouth of her lover.”

“Is that so?” you said, sliding your hands up over his shoulders. Oil swirling within the heat of the baths made them soft and slick, the lady’s delicate grip against ropes of ferocious muscle making him weaken. Loki felt his brows slant. “You do not believe me?” he murmured incredulously.

The laugh that chimed from your throat made his heart swell.

“My Lord, I am innocent of such things as you well know,” you said, a sarcastic smirk tugging your lips. Loki tutted, playing the game. “I have fought beside you many times, wife. I know that you keep the highest count of men slain by a woman’s hand.”

You nodded thoughtfully, before your head tilted to the side. “I meant the other thing,” you whispered, pressing your lips together. Loki cupped your cheeks as your stare focused on the narrow valley of lapping water between your bodies. He frowned. "Truly?" You nodded. He could feel your cheeks warm beneath his touch. How can it be that a man has never pleasured her so, he thought.

“Then let me show you how black of a steed I truly am in this family of mine,” he heard himself mutter, seeing your chest begin to heave with quickening breaths. “Of all our inane traditions, that is by far the most loathsome.”

The nervous laugh that escaped you bounced to every vault in the high ceilings, sinking through the cross-breeze from the open arches.

“More so than the Ceremony of the Sacred Seed?” you giggled, biting your lip again. Loki nodded, a smile curling one side of his mouth. “The Ceremony is a farce, but this…?” his hands found the curve of your waist beneath the water, lifting you effortlessly to the final step before the bath’s edge. “The waste of my wife’s pleasure from my talents would be unforgivable.”

Water lapped gently at your hipbones while Loki carefully placed your calves over his shoulders. He turned his cheek, placing three kisses gently on wet skin. “Besides, was it not the Ceremony which set our path in motion?” he murmured, before grazing his teeth over your ankle. Your hips bucked upwards, a splash. “At least we may be thankful for that.”

Loki watched in awe as your body leant back against the smooth terracotta ledge, the clear bathwater making rivers and brooks through the creases of your hips. The way your curves stretched and moulded to the stone, fat streaks of water languishing down your supple, oiled skin.

He spread his knees against the bottom step, sinking down. His stomach flipped as your breath hitched, desire roaring behind a demure moan. Your glistening pussy was being lapped by the sway of water, swollen lips revealed and hidden with the graceful tide. Loki hoisted your thighs, positioning you perfectly.

“You know, technically, this is treason against the crown,” he purred teasingly, working sucking kisses up the soft flesh of your inner thigh. He felt them tremble around his neck.

“Husband, please,” you gasped, letting your head drop back. The wet of your hair slopped against the warm stone floor. Loki smirked against your skin, feeling a long breath leave your lungs as his palms lightly gripped your waist. “Very well, Princess-” he smiled.

Loki let his eyes drink in the sight for as long as physics would allow before his lips formed a soft latch to your centre. He stilled, letting you buck into his mouth with a shudder. The warmth of the bathwater lapped at his jaw, liquid silk mingling his tongue with your sex. And like a tame beast, he began a flat ascent up your slit.

The subsequent rattling, gasping cry from your body would never leave him. Surprise, relief, pleasure, freedom – it was all contained in that wordless pitch wavering amongst the bathhouse steam.

He let his tongue curve the softness of your womanhood, hands roaming further up your waist. The curvaceous weight of your breasts cupped in his hands made his cock ache. A vision of sinking himself inside you flashed through his mind, rolling and wrapping in once-pristine matrimonial bedsheets. With every rock of your hips, that delicate pussy crept further from the surface before retreating; never fully submerged but always caressed by the touch of water.

Loki felt your hands slide over his temples, fingers that did not know what to do with themselves playing at his intricate ceremonial braids.

It was tradition for the bride to undo the braiding on the wedding night while her husband rested, utterly spent of course. Of course, Loki thought; as the flat of his tongue pressed against your clit. Your back arched from his palms, an ambrosial moan of his name ringing around the cloisters. But there is time enough for that.

He was vaguely aware of the rumbles of wet enthusiasm bubbling from deep in his throat, the taste of jasmine mingling with the sweet nectar leaking from your entrance. All of it. He wanted all of it. All of her.

Your fingers had knitted into the thick of his braids, pulling his face gently between your thighs. Deeper. Loki smiled against your cunt. He rocked you back, sitting up further on his knees. The god took a breath, pausing to observe the once-forbidden glory of your pussy displayed beneath his loving command.

“How are you mine?” he hummed over your pleasure-drunk form, water dripping from his chin. You melted into his open mouth as he delved down again. His worship was rhythmic, each wax and wane of his talented tongue ringing new wells of praise from your lips. Your hands slid down his glistening biceps, feeling every solid curve and vein on their descent.

He could feel the growing frequency of twitching in your calves, the tense of your thighs as you clung on to the wave of pleasure building in your gut. Gasping, you patted his forearm; but Loki shook his head against your sticky heat.

His eyes rose, seeing your brow furrowed in panicked anticipation. The Prince ran his palms up your thighs from where he knelt, never ceasing his gentle laps against your slit. Relax, my love, it said. I have you.

And with a choked cry of his name, Loki felt a warm well of sweetness against his tongue.

Water splashed against his cheeks as your hips shuddered, your tightened thighs pressing him closer. He slurped, kissing your sex as he would your mouth; massaging the sparks of ecstasy sizzling on every nerve for as long as they could last.

You had dug your fingertips deep into his triceps, riding out your pleasure. As she should, he thought; moaning against your cum-soaked sex. He hoped your enthusiasm would leave bruises. However fleeting.

“My Lord…” he heard you gasp through broken breaths. Loki took a moment to hover before lowering your legs, sinking your hips below the comforting glaze of water. Tendrils of his onyx hair spread on the ripples as you slid down the step to meet his lips with yours.

“My Lady,” he heard himself slur; drunk on the taste of your cum and the tone of your voice, “shall we to bed?”

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, drawing him close. Fingertips played over the wet knotting of his braids, a loving smile tugging at your mouth. “Heirs?” you said, biting your lip.

“Heirs,” he smouldered.

Keep the wedding night journey going with Husband (follow up)

Tags (cont in comments)

@meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @loopsisloops @glitchquake @joyful-enchantress @nyxlaufeyson @arch-venus25

#loki x reader #loki smut #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki fluff and smut #loki x reader smut #loki x yn #loki x you #loki x yn smut #loki x you smut #loki imagine #loki gif #loki marvel #loki x female reader #loki x female reader smut #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson x reader smut #lokismut

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

The Kiss of a Siren 🫧

Pirate!Leon S Kennedy x Siren!reader

A/N: it's done!!! I actually love how this turned out! This was a really fun pairing to write and I can totally see myself writing more Pirate!Leon in the future :)

~Fi 🐝

《Content》: a little bit of gore, but not descriptive. Death (a girl's gotta eat)Luis cameo! MIKE CAMEO! Leon runs straight into danger (Aka being Leon)

《Word count》: 6.1k

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ──🌊── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ──🌊── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The ocean laid almost still, only soft and gentle waves blew over the water, causing it to ripple and lap at the wooden hull of his mighty ship. His gaze turned towards the horizon, watching as the moon reflected and glitter on the surface.

There was a soft slosh from his nearly empty bottle of rum as he took another swig, the burning as it went down starting a fire in his veins and being the only thing shielding him from the cold and salty breeze.

It was dark, all lights extinguished. His crew and his first mate were slumbering peacefully beneath deck, all rocked to sleep by the sea.

A feeling of melancholy washed over him as a sigh rolled off his lips. He knew his heart belonged to the sea, but he couldn't help the pressing loneliness in his chest on nights like these, wishing he had a fair lady to love.

Maybe then he'd consider coming home now and then.

He loved the ocean dearly, but she couldn't dry his tears and fill his arms as a woman of his own could.

He shook off the thought, taking a breath and focusing on the peaceful sway of his ship, looking forward to another day of wearing his Tricorn. Stolen, of course, although earned. Perhaps not by the accords of the Captain he'd snagged it from, but by his loyal crew.

Although Leon was a pirate, he wasn't heartless. He'd been through every terrible storm and ruthless attack with these men, and they respected him as their Captain.

There was no mutiny, no plans of overthrowing him, simply because he hadn't given them a reason to.

He was often called the Robin Hood of the seven seas; taking from the rich and cocky and giving it to the less fortunate. Of course he still plundered purely for the fun of it, but only other pirates.

They knew to avoid him, especially if they were the rowdy kind that took from the poor.

Because, above all, he wasn't just the greatest pirate Captain since Anne Bonny but a harbinger of justice that could both lend a gentle hand to those in need and strike fear into the hearts of anyone who had crossed him or his morals.

He was pulled out of his self pity by a distressed sound that cut through the silence of the night like a freshly sharpened cutlass. His brows pulled together as his eyes searched for the source of this noise.

Leon was on high alert, he wouldn't be surprised if rival pirates were using distress calls as bait for an ambush. Setting down the empty bottle of dark rum, he went over to the other side of his ship, facing the sandy shore.

And, as if the gods wanted him to see, he spotted a woman desperately clinging onto a large rock in the water. She was perfectly illuminated by the moonlight, even as she sobbed and struggled, she looked ethereal.

Leon sprung into action and climbed down the rope ladder at the side of his ship into a row boat.

What he hadn't noticed in his hurry, however, was the faint glow of a lantern being lit and a dark figure watching him carefully from atop his ship.

"Hold on, I'm coming for you!" He said loudly, rowing with his entire might as he saw the woman slipping.

"I-.. I can't hold on much longer, please help me!" She wept, seemingly trying to dig her nails into the algae covered boulder as best she could. Seeing her in such distress made his heart ache.

He didn't want to imagine what the outcome would be if he hadn't spotted her. With heaving breaths and a pull in the muscles of his arms, he rowed closer and closer, seeing her more clearly now.

She was quite beautiful, with her wet hair clinging to her skin and her tears glittering on her cheeks.

His boat bumped into the rock as he jumped up and held out his hand for her to grasp onto.

"Here. Just take my hand, I'll help you." Leon heaved, trying to steady the wooden vessel.

You reached for him, tightly clinging to his arm as he reeled you in like a fisherman would his catch of the day.

How ironic, you thought, having to stop yourself from smirking.

Your tail swished in the water, concealed by its darkness, as you made an effort to keep up your act.

"Thank you. Gods, you saved my life. I just wanted to bathe but the current ripped me away and I couldn't-" You babbled through sobs and wails.

"Calm down, alright? I've got you. You're safe." He spoke softly, much softer than you'd anticipated.

His huge yet gentle hands were steadied on your upper arms as you tightly gripped the edge of the boat.

"I'll help you into the boat." He breathed, now very aware of your bare skin. Your eyes widened slightly and your grip tightened.

"I- no, no, I... I'm so exhausted... I just need a break.." you tried to assure him with a half hearted smile.

"Oh, yes, of course." He chuckled awkwardly, sitting back down but still keeping a hand on you, just in case.

Your eyes glid over his form. His broad shoulders and bulging arms with a strong chest. Not to mention the mix of soft and sharp features and those beautiful blue eyes.

They reminded you of home. The deep, silent and peaceful parts of the ocean.

Lucky you; your dinner looked extra delicious today. Your mouth watered at the mere thought of sinking your teeth into his flesh and taking a bite.

It was quiet except for the waves crashing onto the rocks and the small ripples caused by you sloshing agaisnt the wood of his boat. You gazed upon eachother, a scene bathed in the fairest of moonlights, as your shared curiosity took over.

His hand slowly migrated to gentle hold your face as his thumb softly, but not without a hesitant twitch in his fingertips, wiped away at your tears.

Tears that shimmered like diamonds and the most notorious treasures of the seas. Leon was mesmerized, almost captivated, by your presence.

Something was pulling him in, something so deceiving, that he let himself slowly slip into your spell.

"A girl like you shouldn't be out alone past dusk." Leon broke the tense silence with quiet words as he brushed some of the hair clinging to your forehead out of your face. Your lips turned up into a soft smile, and Leon could feel his heart pound at your beauty.

"A girl like me?" You asked playfully, trailing you hand from the wooden edge to gently grasp at his arm. He thought for a moment.

"A girl so... beautiful. So sweet. So soft." His words were merely above a whisper and you could see his chest falling and rising just a little faster than before.

His pupils almost swallowed up the entirety of his pretty blues, making you mourn the mirroring image of your home.

"You flatter me." You replied with a soft chuckle, your other hand rising up to plant itself against his chest. He instinctively leaned forwards, his warm breath tickling your face.

There was a hint of sadness in your chest and it was getting harder to play the part. It seemed so easy to fall for those sandy locks and ocean eyes.

The line was awfully thin and you'd be damned if you crossed it.

"Tell me, what's your name?" You asked innocently, fiddling with the strings of his shirt.

"Leon." He swallowed thickly, his other hand itching to dip beneath the surface of the water, pull you out and whisk you away as his treasure, only for him to know the beauty that you hid beneath that darkness.

"Leon..." You tested his name on your tongue with a small smile and gazed up at him with such a bright sparkle in your eyes. Leon thought he was about to choke on air.

You gently, but with a firm hand, pulled him closer to you, your lips just a hairs breadth apart.

"What is it you desire, Leon?" You purred, your eyes darkening. Leon was hunched over, halfway to toppling into the water.

Right where you wanted him. His lips were parted and his cheeks were flushed, his pupils dilated so much you could spot yourself in them.

"You." He breathed out, leaning in far enough to brush your lips together.

You cracked a smile and brought your lips to his ear.

"How unfortunate." You whispered.

Those words made him snap back into reality, the hazy fog over his mind lifted enough to catch the sharp teeth as you smiled and the scattered, shimmering scales he'd missed before.

But it was no use.

The second he had realized, he was pulled under, ripped from his steady seat in the boat and plunged into dreadful darkness.

The air was knocked from his lungs and he struggled against your surprisingly strong hold on him as you dragged him deeper. Leon could see the moonlight fading, reaching out for it.

You, on the other hand, were euphoric. Ravenous for your meal.

Usually, you'd wait. Drown your prey and watch the life drain from their eyes, making them dull. But there was something about him that made you so impatient. So eager to get a taste.

Without another thought you sunk your teeth into his strong shoulder and reveled in the sweet taste of his flesh.

Leon screamed out in agony, but it was dulled and muffled by the water. Bubbles rose up as he desperately tried to get you off of him. His strength was exhausted, and the red tinting the water blurred his vision.

You hummed against his skin at the delightful taste of him. To your dismay, your feast was cut short by a loud noise, making you detach from Leon and flinch away.

Before you could get far, there was a searing pain in your tail, the salty waters now stained with your blood instead of his. A silvery harpoon was embedded in your tail, shooting hot spikes of agony up your spine.

You swam as fast as you could with the weapon in your fin, bullets whizzing past you as your form merged into the deep blue, vanishing before his eyes.

Leon pushed up to the surface with his uninjured arm before a hand plunged into the water and grasped him tightly before pulling him up to the surface.

He gasped for air and heaved in deep breaths as someone wrangled him into the boat.

The shirt on his left shoulder was ripped and stained with deep crimson as the rest of the wet fabric clung to his sculpted body. There were heavy pats on his back as he coughed up water, wincing at the excruciating pain in his shoulder.

"¡Joder! Are you alright, Capitán?" The frantic voice of his ever so loyal first mate, Luis Serra, rang in his ears, making him slack in relief.

"¡Mierda!. That beast got you good, huh?" He tried to lift the mood with a chuckle but Leon couldn't respond, his head spinning as he slowly took in his surroundings again.

Luis had a lit lantern with him, which got knocked over in his attempt to save Leon, his blunderbuss laid in the boat, smoke pluming from the barrel. A couple of harpoons were laid out as well, ones they'd usually use for fishing.

"Thank... Thank you.." Leon forced through heavy breaths as he held his bleeding shoulder.

"Always, Captain. Let's get you fixed up, eh, Sancho Panza?" Luis grinned helping Leon up onto the ship, who cracked a tired smirk at the friendly banter.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Leon was lost in thought as he sat on the edge of his sofa, a singular lantern illuminating his day cabin. He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he replayed the events in his mind.

With a heavy sigh he slumped back against the soft cushion, wincing when he adjusted his arm. There were so any feelings weighing down on him. Pure, hot fury. The urge to hunt you down, gut you and hang you out to dry.

He knew of your kind, of course he knew, the maneating maidens with the voice of a nightingale. Half fish, half woman. Sirens caused the worst shipwrecks, he'd heard the stories from the very few that were lucky enough to escape their clawed grasp.

There was shame. Ashamed that someone like him was so easily fooled by a pair of pretty eyes and a smile so sweet he could feel his teeth ache.

Was he just desperate and pathetic? Longing so deeply for a maiden of his own that he'd jumped at the first opportunity? Wasn't it honorable that he'd sprung into action to save a damsel in distress? He didn't know. He lived up to his reputation, that's for sure, but Leon couldn't bring himself to take the credit. He never could.

And then there was this bubbling curiosity. The urge to know more, to see you again. He didn't understand. You'd almost taken his life, yet there was not an ounce of fear for you in him. He was intrigued, he needed to see you again.

Whether it was to squeeze answers out of you or to get a smidge of that connection back.

He damn near broke his head in two that night after he'd retreated to bed, wondering if some of it was real. It felt real to him.

The way you looked at him, spoke to him, touched him. It all seemed so real and genuine. Were creatures like you even able to feel things of that sort? He didn't know.

What he did know was not only had you had his flesh between your sharp teeth, but his heart, too, it seemed.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The sun sparkled on the surface of the ocean as the Lone Rookie treaded along her path, splitting the waves.

Captain Kennedy and his crew were leisurely sailing across the calm sea, letting the tide guide them. He stood atop the quaterdeck, giving directions to the pirate that manned the wheel, knowing this part of the wide ocean like the back of his hand.

His first mate was keeping watch over the remaining crew, making sure their daily tasks were done as they should be.

Some were scrubbing the deck, others were covered in soot from keeping the cannons in good condition while the rest was busy hoisting the sails.

His coat looked pristine and elegant with the golden appliques sewn onto it. His Tricorn sat proudly atop his sandy locks adorned by a large, fluffy feather. His leather boots shone in the sun, same as his belt, that held his cutlass and blunderbuss.

His shoulder was still healing, the arm hanging close to his body instead of in the sleeve of the coat to minimize the strain.

It had been weeks since he almost met his end at your hands. Leon's mind had been occupied by thoughts of you since, wondering if he'd ever see you again.

There was shouting coming from the crow's nest, drawing his attention away from thoughts of you. They were coming up to a small formation of sharp rocks emerging from the water, but the lookout claimed to have seen something shimmering, bringing hope for it to be a lost treasure.

The Lone Rookie was carefully maneuvered closer to the boulders, being mindful so she wouldn't shatter to pieces against the rocks. But before anyone had the chance to inspect this mystery further, all heads turned in search of a soft melody that seemed to he carried by the wind.

Upon one summer's morning, I carefully did stray

Down by the Walls of Wapping, where I met a sailor gay

Conversion with a young lass, who seemed to be in pain

Saying William, when you go, I fear you'll never return again

Whispers and questions echoed across the deck as they searched for the source of this enchanting tune. The crew slowly moved in tandem, migrating towards the edge of the ship.

Leon's brows furrowed as he took out his spyglass and tried to spot something between the rocks against the blinding sun.

A shiver ran down his spine when he laid his eyes on none other than you, in all your beautiful, sparkling glory. Your tail shimmered in all colors, and your skin was glistening from the water.

You were going to be the demise of his ship if he didn't act now. With a quick movement his spyglass was attached to his belt once again.

"Everyone below deck. Now!" He yelled, seemingly breaking his men from their trance. They scattered like rats, obeying their Captain.

"Capitán-" Luis began but was swiftly cut off.

"You too. Now."

"Leon-"

"Go."

With hesitancy Luis, too, made his way below deck. Though he did stay close, just in case. How his Captain thought he was invincible made him want to shake his head.

Leon kept his eyes on you, a hand resting on his blunderbuss. He spotted one of his men, a gunner named Mike, out of the corner of his eye.

"Mike, get below deck. Now!" He yelled, not getting a reaction.

The gunner's arms hung slack by his side as he slowly stepped further towards that lovely melody, drawing him in.

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

The words glid easily off your tongue as you eyed your next meal before your gaze flitted to Leon for a moment. He locked eyes with you and you could faintly see him scowl which made the corners of your mouth twitch upwards in a mischievous smile.

Mike had now reached the edge and was leaning over, his pupils dilated as his eyes were trained on you and your beauty.

"Mike!" Leon rushed towards him, gripping his shoulders and trying to pry him away from what would be his certain death.

As if suddenly possessed by inhuman strength he shook his Captain off of him with ease and climbed down the rope ladder at the side of the ship.

"Goddammit." Leon cursed under his breath.

"Snap out of it! Don't listen to to her!" He tried to reason with his best gunner, but there was only so much he could do from atop the ship.

Leon watched as Mike eagerly descended into the water and swam your way.

You held out your hand in a tantalizing manner, watching as he reached you and desperately clawed his way up the rock.

His hair it hangs in ringlets, his eyes as black as coal

My happiness attend him wherever he may go

From Tower Hill to Blackwall, I'll wander, weep and moan

All for my jolly Sailor, until he sails home

Mike panted with a smile has he gazed upon you.

"The gods have heard me." He spoke brightly, steadying himself with one hand in the slippery rock and the other on your hip.

The gesture made you want to physically recoil. They usually never lived along enough to lay a hand on you. Still, you put on your best face and cupped his cheek, pulling him closer.

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

With the last, softly sung note you chuckled, a sound that could rival your singing. Mike drew closer, his breath on your face.

Your stomach twisted and turned when you remembered who else's warm breath you could feel on your face just a few moons ago. A much more pleasant and welcome sensation than from your next meal.

"You're all I've ever wanted." Mike spoke quietly, making you giggle and lean in to whisper in his ear.

"What a shame."

Your teeth dug into the side of his neck, puncturing his jugular as he let out a blood curdling scream and desperately clutched his neck.

In a calculated move, you slid down the rock with a tight grip on your prey and pulled him under, his blood staining your skin.

Leon's blood boiled as he watched one of his best men die in front of him. He wanted to gut you and parade around your corpse for everyone to see, but there was a sick and twisted jealousy in the pit of his stomach.

You had charmed and enchanted Mike just as you had him, but there was a part deep inside his heart that hoped he was special. You didn't put up a damsel on distress act for Mike, but you did for him. Surely all that effort must've meant something? He felt nauseous at his thoughts and returned his attention back to you.

You were smiling at him, your sharp teeth stained with blood before you dove under and splashed your fin, a noticeable scar from the harpoon sitting on the glittering skin.

He slammed his fists down on the wooden railing, a few splinters flying overboard. Luis emegered from below deck and hurried toward him.

"What happened?" He asked hurriedly. Leon stayed silent for a moment, sighing deeply, his eyes trained on the pool of red around the rocks.

"She got Mike." He spoke coldly, faintly hearing the gasps and sounds of sorrow from his crew.

His jaw clenched as he swiftly turned on his heel and waltzed towards his cabin, slamming the door shut behind him.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The death laid heavy on him as he tried to find some solace at the bottom of yet another bottle of rum. Though not alone in his state of mourning,

Luis sat next to him, puffing a cigar. Not as his first mate, but as his friend.

"I have to find her." Leon spoke sternly, deep in his thoughts.

His hands were intertwined and tucked under his chin, most of his weight resting on his elbows.

"Won't be too hard. She keeps showing up where you are. Maybe she likes you." Luis grinned, tapping his cigar over the glass ashtray.

Leon hated how that speculation made his heart jump in his chest. He shouldn't feel like this, especially after you'd cruelly killed one of his best men. But he just couldn't help the giddy feeling in his stomach. He didn't physically react apart from a sharp glare that made Luis put his hands up in mock surrender, and the faintest of blushes dusted on his cheeks.

"You know what they say about the kiss of a Siren, eh?" Luis began with a mischievous smirk, taking a drag from the roll of tobacco. Leon leaned back into his chair with a tight-lipped sigh.

"What, that you'll 'control the mighty seas and command the storms'? All bullshit if you ask me." He muttered, a slight frown on his face.

"Whatever you say, Capitán." Luis blew a never plume of smoke with a faint smirk playing on his lips.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

You carefully poked your head out of the water and carefully watched the Lone Rookie, specifically the handsome Pirate Captain that you'd gotten a taste of.

You've been mesmerized by him ever since you met him that night. Those kind eyes, that gentle touch... could he really be a pirate? He was nothing like the dirty brutes that you had the displeasure of meeting.

Your curiosity is what urged you to follow his ship and observe him almost every day since you'd eaten one of his crew. You did feel a little bad about it afterward, guilt eating away at you as you twirled a button from his shirt between your fingers.

What we're you even going to do with it? Give it Leon as a peace offering? Now, that seemed unnecessarily cruel.

In your defense, you had to eat something. It wasn't your fault that you were cursed to be a Maneater.

Some were whiny and outright annoying while others disgusted you to the point where you'd just leave them drifting in the sea and went off to find another, their behavior ruining your appetite.

Gods, what were you thinking!? He probably hated you know. A fair outcome, you supposed. You wouldn't be very happy if someone ate one of your friends.

You dove back under, pondering your options. You knew you shouldn't, but something about him was so intriguing that it was impossible for you to stay away.

How ironic that the Siren seemed to be caught in a spell.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The panic that arose in your chest as you struggle against the rough rope you'd managed to get tangled in was like nothing you'd felt before.

You were always so careful, kept your distance so no sailor would get their hands on you and do Gods know what.

You clawed and gnawed at the net, hoping your sharp teeth could cut you free. You were getting closer and closer to the surface, your eyes not having enough time to adjust as you were ripped from the deep.

Making yourself as small as possible, you waited in dreadful anticipation, saying goodbye to the ocean.

"This' a big one, Cap'n!" One of his men cackled, grunting as he continued to pull in the net.

Leon quirked a brow and stepped down from the quaterdeck, his belt rustling and his boots clacking against the wood as he walked. He waited patiently as his men reeled in their net, speculating about a big fish that would last them for weeks.

They plopped you down onto the deck unceremoniously, your tail hitting the floor with a thud as you pressed your back agaisn the railing, hoping to just disappear.

You hadn't even noticed Leon yet, to caught up in your fear to see how his eyes almost popped out of his head as his gaze landed on you.

"You." He breathed out, an unidentifiable mix of emotions in his tone.

Your head shot up, recognizing his voice, before it quickly fell again in shame, avoiding all eye contact with the handsome Captain. There were murmurs and whispers form the crew, some demanding to get revenge for their dearest friend and others that were interested in how much you'd go for on the fish market.

"What do we do with her, Capitán?" Luis asked from behind him, an uncharacteristically unsure tone to his usually so confident demeanor.

Leon's mind was void of all rational thoughts as he kept taking you in. How you cowered and kept your head down, seemingly afraid to even move a single muscle.

You were so confident in the water, seducing and luring men to their demise, but as soon as you hot caught on dry land all that cockiness evaporated and you looked more like a scared girl than a flesh-eating monster of the seas. He glanced around quickly before answering his first mate.

"Put her in that barrel." Leon gestures towards it haphazardly, continuing to bore holes into you with his look.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

That's how you ended up here. Cramped in a wooden barrel, sailors shooting you weird looks as you tried your best to sink as deep as you could, hoping to run from their judgmental gazes.

You'd find Leon staring at you from afar, striking under his gaze.

The protection of the sea was gone now. You were out of your element, and he was in his. You tried your best to behave, hoping they'd just get bored of you eventually.

Your first attempt at escaping and went as followed;

You nervously glanced around the deck, hoping you'd catch a moment where no eyes were on you. Leon seemed occupied looking at various maps with his first mate, while the crew was busy fulfilling their duties. You took your chance and took a breath to start singing, hoping you'd get them to dump you overboard so you could swim for it.

Before even a single not left your throat, a large hand was slapped over your mouth, muffling any sounds you would've made. Leon stood above you, his stature completely blocking off the sun.

"Don't even think about it. One of my men was enough." He said lowly, fueling the fire of guilt in your heart. You tried your best to ignore how his touch sent a prickly feeling down your spine.

You'd crossed the line miles ago, and you were swimming straight for the Bermuda triangle.

The sparkling moonlight on the ripple of the sea brought you no solace as you stared at the deep blue with longing, wishing you were back in your home.

You'd been on the Lone Rookie for about a week. Leon insisted on not letting you starve, to the dismay of some of his men, so they fed a part of their daily catches to you.

It wasn't human flesh, but enough to keep you going. Although you were around people all day, you hadn't felt more lonely. The disgusted expressions and whispered insults started to wear on you.

You were here only because you couldn't resist a couple of blue eyes and sandy hair that reminded you of the bottom of the ocean.

The door of the Captain's cabin opened and Leon stepped out with a lantern in hand, walking towards you.

Your heart was starting to beat faster but you still wouldn't meet his eyes. He placed the light on the railing next to you and leaned against it, staying quiet. You could tell he wanted to look at you, maybe even talk to you, but he held himself back.

The button in your hand seemed to almost burn your skin as you grasped it tighter. This was your chance at mercy and freedom.

"I'm... I'm sorry about your friend." You muttered quietly, the water in the barrel splashing gently as you turned your body to face Leon.

He was slightly stunned at your apology, maybe that you spoke at all, yet he didn't reply.

You bit your tongue, not knowing whether saying any more would be a good idea. You wordlessly lifted your hand out of the water and presented the button to him.

A soft crease formed between his brows as he eyes the button.

".. What's this?" He asked quietly.

You swallowed and raised your hand higher.

"From your friend." Your voice was merely above a whisper.

Hid jaw slacked slightly before he let his head fall forwards and let out a soft huff.

"Thank you." He replied softly as he took the button and squeezed it tightly, holding his hand to his chest.

There was a beat of silence before all your self-control left you, and you couldn't stop the words that spilled out of your mouth.

"I just couldn't stay away from you. That's what got me into this whole mess." You sighed, resting your head against the rim of the barrel.

Leon's head snapped towards you, your words igniting fire in his heart.

"You're just so... so.. different. I didn't actually think anyone would come to save me that night. I mean, I wasn't actually in trouble, but it was nice, still. You're nice. Not like all the other pirates I've met. They're rough and rude and.. you're not. I just can't stay away."

You laid your heart out for him. His heart was about to jump out of his chest, and his cheeks were dusted in a deep pink as he processed your confession.

He was speechless, his brain trying to come up with an answer.

You, on the other hand, were tugging at your hair, anxiously waiting for a reply. He could reject you, and you'd finally be able to move on, but as long as the option of him reciprocating was there, so were you.

Leon swallowed thickly, the way the moonlight was shining down one you once again not making it easier for him to finally find his words.

"I can't stay away either..." he confessed quietly.

"I know it sounds silly considering that's your whole deal, but... It felt real to me. Even if you bit me, even if you killed my best gunner, I..." he chuckled, running a hand through his hair and looking up at the stars.

"I've never... felt like that before. Never thought love was in the cards for me. You changed that." He spoke softly, gently guiding your head to look at him.

It was the first time you'd actually met his eye for days and it felt like your heart was going to melt right out of your chest. You were just as stunned by his words as he was by yours.

"It was real." You replied eagerly, lifting yourself out of the barrel to be closer to him.

"You remind me of my home. Your eyes are like the sea when she's calm and welcoming and your hair is like the sand at the bottom of the ocean, where all sorts of treasures can be found." You rambled breathlessly, the proximity of him making the air hard to breathe

. Leon was breathing heavily just as you were before he helped support you by placing a steady hand on your lower back.

"I just... I'm sorry for biting you, but I had to get a taste." Your face felt hot and your chest was rising and falling faster than normal.

His gentle touch was setting all of your nerves on fire, spiraling them into a hot frenzy.

"What if... what if you get a taste without drawing blood?" He asked in a quiet and breathy voice, a smirk tugging at his lips.

You nodded quickly, grasping onto him wherever you could.

With your confirmation, his strong arm wrapped around your back and he lifted you out of the barrel and onto the railing, holding you tightly, before finally pressing a kiss to your lips

. The desperation and passion in the kiss made you melt against him, a satisfied hum escaping your lips. Leon smiled into the kiss, teasingly squeezing your waist, making you giggle.

You gently held his face, the image of the both of you like that from a painting. You pulled away from each other for air, chests heaving, and your lips slightly puffy.

"I want to keep you forever." He muttered, pressing his forehead to yours.

You chuckled breathlessly, playing with the hair at his nape.

"I'm sorry I can't stay. But I belong out there," you nodded your head in the direction of the sea, "and you belong here." You spoke with a soft smile, placing a peck on his lips.

He made a soft displeased noise.

"Here." you untangled an iridescent shell from your hair and placed it into his palm, closing his hand and bringing it to your lips to press a kiss to his knuckles.

"That way, I'm always with you." His expression softened.

"Thank you."

Leon stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small golden anchor charm, one he'd gotten on one of his first raids and kept as a lucky charm.

"Now, I'm always with you, too." He attached it to the lock of hair you'd taken the shell from, pushing a few strands out of your face with a smile.

"Will you promise me something?" Leon asked quietly, stroking his thumb over your cheekbone.

You hummed softly, leaning into his touch.

"Promise me you'll always sing for me."

You smiled softly and pulled him a little closer.

"I promise. I'll only sing for you." You whispered, gently bumping your nose against his, making him smile.

You pulled him for a last kiss, one he happily indulged, before loosening your grip on him.

Letting yourself fall back from the railing, you elegantly dove into the water, Leon's eyes glued to the shimmering scales of your tail.

You blew him a kiss before diving deep into your home with a heavy heart. It was a bittersweet parting, no doubt, but the trinkets you'd exchanged with your lover would ease the ache.

With a sad smile Leon watched you disappear before retreating for the night. The only thing he'd have to explain in the morning was how you'd escaped and where he got the shimmering shell that was pinned to his coat.

When he heard a soft comforting melody that night, he smiled to himself, keeping your gift close to his heart.

From then on, you were never far. Always circling around the Lone Rookie, keeping an eye on not only Leon but his crew.

The kiss of a Siren might not have given Leon the power to command the sea, it did, however, give him the benefit of a hauntingly beautiful complicit that was more than happy to feed on his enemies.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ──🌊── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

I hope you liked it!! (you specifically, @sweets3rial <3)

More Leon -> 💫

《tag list》: @vampkennedy @dmitriene @k-fallingstar @agrerion @leonslittlekennedy @allysunny

Let me know if you'd like to be added to my Leon tag list!!

(Sorry for any typos, it's late :,))

#bumblebeesfromvenus #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #resident evil leon #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy comfort #leon kennedy angst

[srvbryn]

Luke Castellan. Moonlight

Luke Castellan X Hades!Daughter!Reader

FLUFF <333

Summary: "we're running in the moonlight, can you show me the way again?" In which Luke fucking Castellan somehow managed to make you fall in love even more with him (ts doesn't make sense btw 😭)

A/n: GOSHH I love him sm<33 can we ignore whatever he did in the books aaaaa & CHARLIE BUSHNELL is perfect 100% I'm so desperate if you look like Charlie Bushnell hmu 🥹🥹

The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a silver glow over the beach as Luke Castellan slipped away from Hermes Cabin.

His mischievous grin was illuminated by the moonlight, and he sought the company of a specific person - (Name), Hades forbidden daughter.

As he approached (Name)'s cabin, the shadows seemed to illuminated around him, concealing his movements.

Knocking softly, he waited for (Name) to open the door, her demeanour reserved and cool, a trait inherited from her godly lineage.

"Hey there, (Name)," Luke greeted, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. "Mind taking a stroll with me? The beach is calling."

(Name) hesitated, her shy nature evident, but curiosity sparkled in her eyes. "Sure, Castellan. Just for a little while."

Avoiding watchful eyes, until they reached the shoreline.

The sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air as they found a secluded spot, away from prying eyes.

Luke interrupted the silence. "Wonderful night, isn't it? The moonlight reflects off the water like diamonds."

(Name) nodded, "It's... nice."

As they walked along the shore, "There's something mysterious about you."

A faint blush tinged (Name)'s cheeks. "Being Hades daughter tends to make people wary."

Luke chuckled. "Well, they don't know what they're missing. I find it intriguing."

(Name) shot him a quizzical look. "You do?"

"Absolutely. You've got this aura, but I think there's more to you than meets the eye."

They continued walking in companionable silence until Luke abruptly paused, his gaze fixed on the stars. "Hey, (Name), have you ever wished upon a star?"

(Name) shook her head. "Not really. Why?"

"I heard that wishes made under moonlit skies are more likely to come true," he replied, a playful glint in his eyes.

(Name) smirked slightly, a rare expression for her. "I doubt that."

"Care to test it out?" Luke grinned, taking (Name)'s hand gently. "Close your eyes and make a wish."

As (Name) closed her eyes, a genuine smile played on Luke's lips. "I wish for (Name) to open up, to let people see the warmth hidden beneath that exterior."

When (Name) opened her eyes, Luke's gaze softened. "Well, did it work?"

(Name) blushed, avoiding eye contact. "Maybe a little."

They resumed their walk, the atmosphere lighter. As the night wore on, they found themselves sitting on the sand, staring at the moonlit waves.

Luke turned to (Name), his expression earnest. "You know, (Name), I'm glad I sneaked out tonight."

(Name)'s cheeks flushed again, but this time, it was accompanied by a genuine smile. "Thank you, Luke. I enjoyed tonight."

Luke grinned, his mischief returning. "Well, maybe we should sneak out more often."

The air between Luke and (Name) crackled with an unspoken tension as they sat by the beach.

Luke turned to (Name), his eyes searching hers. "You know, sometimes words aren't necessary."

(Name) met his gaze, a hint of uncertainty in her eyes. "What do you mean?"

Without answering, Luke closed the distance, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, lingering kiss. The world seemed to pause for that stolen moment.

As they pulled away, (Name) looked at him, her cheeks flushed. "Luke..."

He grinned, the spark returning to his eyes. "Some things are better felt than said."

A small smile played on (Name)'s lips. "I never expected this."

"Life's full of surprises," Luke replied, his tone sincere. "And this? This was a pleasant one."

They sat in a comfortable silence, the light casting a gentle glow over their intertwined fingers. Luke couldn't help but break the quiet. "Who would've thought the daughter of Hades could be so enchanting?"

(Name) rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the smile tugging at her lips. "Flattery won't get you far, Castellan."

He chuckled. "Maybe not, but it's worth a shot."

#Spotify #i love him #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #pjo tv show #pjo #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #i love them #charlie bushnell

[frantic-fiction]

Reoccurring Nightmares

(Gif: margonite-seer)

Astarion x GN!Reader / Astarion x Good!Durge

Summary: A night reveals that maybe the past is not left behind, and maybe old urges have begun again. As people always say healing is never linear.

Triggers/Tags: Implied mentions of self harm. Violent topics. Angst Hurt/comfort.

Minor spoilers for Durges plot line nothing very specific but you have been warned.

Word Count: 2.2k

(Quick note I gave reader Tav's name so hope y'all don't mind)

Cold damp earth thunders under your feet as you run, each step echoes in the silent woods. Your chest heaves, each breath a meager attempt to fill lungs that can't seem to feel satisfied. 

Why are you out here? 

The forest is a maze, and you navigate it with urgency, propelled forward by the rhythmic pounding of your heart. It threatens to break free, like a wild creature desperate to escape its cage. You don’t stop, fueled by the momentum and the all-consuming fear clawing at your throat.

Why were you running?

This isn’t the first time your memory has betrayed you, leaving you disoriented in the unknown.

Ducking beneath a fallen tree, the rough bark scratches against your skin. You turn sharply and press on, the underbrush snapping beneath your hurried steps. The surroundings are a blur, darkness shrouding any discernible features. The moon, a mere sliver in the night sky, casts an eerie glow through the dense canopy.

A plan forms in the chaos of your thoughts. The distant sound of water becomes a lifeline; a river might offer refuge from a pursuer. You move toward the sou-

 Your foot snags a root, and you collide with a rock. Blood fills your mouth, the metallic taste jarring, familiar. In the darkness, your hand tightens around a shard of glass. The moonlight reflects off its jagged edges, casting faint ethereal patterns on the forest floor.

Frogs and crickets harmonize in the night, their symphony a stark contrast to the turmoil within. The beauty of the scene clashes with the disarray of your mind. A brief moment of clarity emerges, allowing you to catch your breath. 

What happened? 

You examine the shard of glass, uncurling your fingers for a better look. A deeper wound reveals itself, and the blood flows unabated. The taste and sight is both revolting and comforting, a paradoxical sensation that grounds you in the reality of pain.

Where did the glass come from? Memories fracture, and images of a shared life flood your mind. The house on the outskirts, memories of love and healing. Someone's absence looms, silver curls and sharp teeth; Astarion, a question unanswered. 

Knees pulled to your chest, you notice the blood-soaked clothes. Panic sets in; that part of you, the monster believed buried, threatens to resurface. Did his blood taint you again? Did you harm Astarion?

Jerking to the side, you vomit, the weight of imagined horrors overwhelming you. The riverbed offers a cold sanctuary, and you scrub the blood away. The water numbs your body, but you persist until your fingers ache. The raw emptiness grows, time stops, and the world holds its breath in shared grief. You can’t face your friends; the word "friend" is tainted by your actions. Astarion’s absence is a void you can’t bear.

Wasn’t this the fear? The fear that kept you awake, haunted by the possibility of losing control. The dark whispers that the urges would resurface. 

Your reflection in the river, blood-soaked and tormented, triggers waves of self-loathing. The glass shard gleams, a macabre symbol of your descent into the abyss.

Fingers graze the cold surface, and a distant voice interrupts your thoughts. 

“Tav!” The sound pierces through the chaos, freezing your movements. 

“TAV!” Astarion’s voice, a lifeline in the disarray. 

Frantically searching, he emerges from the trees, disheveled and relieved. He is by your side in a moment joining you halfway into the river. He cups your cheek, his touch offers a brief respite, a moment of grounding in the maelstrom. 

Words are cement in your mouth. You're mystified by the reality that is facing you. Astarion is here, in front of you. And, in fact, very much alive. You reach up with a shaky hand to barely caress his cheek, as if a more stern touch would shatter the fragile moment. He grabs your wrist and kisses your cold palm softly.

“You’re alive,” you choke, collapsing into his chest sobs rolls through your body.

He momentarily freezes in confusion at your words before refocusing at the current urgency of your state. Pressing you tighter against him, Astarion strokes your hair and gives you a gentle kiss to your hairline. Maybe he had just fed before finding you, or maybe it's a testament to how long you have suffered the freezing night, but he’s warm. You bury yourself deeper in his embrace, hiding your tear-streaked face in his neck.

“Of course, my love,” He softly says and holds you a moment longer, allowing you to feel the truth of something he’s not quite understanding but knows is important just the same. But little by little, he begins to pry you from his body.

“No,” you make a pathetic whine in protest, desperately trying to stay attached. Too afraid that once you let go, he’ll disappear and the truth of what you did will be brought back into the moonlight.

“Hush now, my sweet,” Astarion stands up suddenly and removes the heavy jacket you had given him. Kneeling back down, he drapes it over your shoulders.

“You have been in the middle of the woods in freezing weather for gods know how long. And you've had a bit of a swim.” His thumb brushes the line of your cheekbone. “Let’s get you home so I can warm you up, and if you are feeling okay tonight, we could discuss what my darling was doing alone out here.”

He doesn’t leave room to argue, and you have none to give. So he takes you in his arms and begins to walk. You’re too tired to speak, so you simply curl closer into him and resume your position, face tucked into the crook of his neck. His scent invades your nostrils, and finally, since waking up in the woods earlier this evening, you breathe a sigh of relief.

***

You don’t remember falling asleep, but you awake on the plush sofa in your living room. Astarion must have moved it because it is now as close to the fireplace as safety would allow. The only thing standing in its way was the intricately sculpted metal table Dammon had gifted you for a housewarming gift. 

What seemed to be the entire house's stock of blankets was now piled on top of you, effectively cocooning you in cotton and silks. You try to sit up, but find that no strength is left in your bones.

“Stari?” You croak, your voice hoarse from your sobs.

There is not an immediate response, just the crackling fire and the rustling of dinnerware from the kitchen. You don’t bother to call out again; you know he’ll be in to check on you soon. When it comes to you, Astarion’s mother hen tendencies rear their head with great urgency.

 While you wait, you stare transfixed into the fire, mesmerized by the crackling wood and swirling ash. The chaos of fire has always been interesting to you. In small quantities, fire can bring warmth to a home and light to darkness. But uncontrolled fire burns, burns everything in its path. No mercy, no complexities, just fire and fuel; anything in between is insignificant in the grand scheme. It's familiar, too familiar.

Maybe this topic was best left untouched; maybe you hated fire. After all, fire is made to burn.

“Oh good, I was just about to wake you,” Astarion sets a tray on the coffee table. “I made tea,”

He starts to unearth your body from your blanket tomb and helps you into a more seated position before moving to the armchair. You catch his wrist; his crimson eyes meet yours. You're not entirely sure what you want; you just can’t bear him being so far. Not after thinking he was lost to you forever.

“Hold me?” The words are barely above a whisper, hesitant as if Astarion has ever denied you anything. “Please,” you tack on for good measure, though you're not sure why.

“Of course, my sweet,”

Handing you your tea, Astarion motions you to lean forward so that he can slip in behind you. Sandwiched between his legs, he wraps an arm around your middle and eases you against his solid torso. 

He’s warm; you must have been right. During your trek in the woods, he must have stepped out to feed. Now that the winter is approaching, he’s been hunting larger game; he likes to be warm, says it’s not always fair when you're the only one bringing heat into the relationship. 

He silently urges you to drink your tea, and you do. It’s quiet; neither of you speaks; you simply drink your tea and Astarion comforts. Hands gently trail up and down your arms, in between peppering tender kisses on your neck and shoulders.

You know what he’s doing. You’ve done the same tactics on him plenty of times in the past. He’s waiting. Waiting for you to speak first. To share with him why you were in those woods. What horrors brought you there. It’s an unspoken rule between two very broken people. You offer each other comfort, the safety each has lacked in the past and wait. If or when the person wishes to speak, the other listens.

But how do you even begin to describe the night that has occurred? The terror, the guilt, the hatred. It all just boils in your chest like wet tar. You can’t even really explain what happened to yourself. Once the tea is finished, you pass the cup to Astarion, who in turn returns it to the tray.

With a deep breath, you say simply, “I thought it happened again,” he knows immediately what you're saying and holds you just a bit tighter. 

“I-I-I don’t know what happened, b-but I was just running. I was… Gods, Astarion, I was so scared.”

Pushing the blankets further away from you, you turn in his arms and wrap around his neck. His eyes reflect the same sadness and fear you are feeling. “I was covered in blood, and then…then all I could think about was you,”

Tears begin to roll one by one down your cheeks; he collect them with his thumbs. Tears of his begin to follow a similar path. “I thought it finally happened,” you're crying harder now, hiccuping between words. 

“I thought he finally made me kill you,” words began to fail you from there. You pathetically tried to say more but the only sounds that escape are choked hiccups and wet sobs. When you know you have no hope of continuing you simply hide your face in your hands, no longer wanting to face the world.

“We’re okay, little love. Everythings okay.” Astarion is rubbing soft circles into your back, repeating calming phrases until they stick. “I’m here, nothing can change that. You’re okay darling.” 

It takes a lot of lovely words and small touches before your breathing calms down and you seem to have run out of your tear supply for that night. But even then Astarion doesn’t let go. You two stay interlocked, warmed by the slowly dwindling fire. He clears up your scattered thoughts. 

Astarion's voice, tinged with concern and a hint of reassurance, breaks through the remnants of your panic. "It was probably just one of your nightmares," he offers, a familiar acknowledgment that nightmares are woven into the fabric of your existence. In the quiet aftermath of your ordeal, the weight of his words settles in the still air. 

As he gently extracts one of your hands from your tear-streaked face, the dim light catches the glint of a heavy bandage wrapped around your trembling fingers. The glass shard, a cruel messenger, the night will leave its mark. With a tender touch, Astarion guides your gaze to the bandage, and then, with a careful motion, he lifts the fabric of your pants to expose a larger wound on your thigh, neatly covered in thick gauze.

The size of the injury is alarming, and the realization dawns that stitches would have been a necessity. Astarion's eyes reflect a regret that mirrors your own. "I should have been there, I'm so very sorry, my love," he whispers, his voice carrying the weight of an unspoken vow to protect you from the horrors that lurk within your own mind.

As you open your mouth to argue or perhaps offer words of comfort, Astarion anticipates your protest. "Regardless of what you are going to say," he interrupts, his words cutting through the heavy air, "from now on, I will be feeding exclusively when you are awake." The admission reveals a vulnerability in his eyes—a fear that lingers from the night when the scent of your blood permeated the air, and you were nowhere to be found.

"There was nothing more frightening than coming home to the smell of your blood and you gone." His hand begin to play with a strand of your hair. "Not to mention the absolute nightmare of a talk I’m to receive once I call for Shadowheart come morning, because I’m still not convinced you didn’t contract hypothermia during your midnight swim.” 

A small smile plays on your lips, a silent acknowledgment of the impending lecture from Shadowheart, whose disapproval you can almost taste. Astarion seems to relish in your smile, and he cups your jaw, pressing his forehead to yours in an intimate gesture that transcends words.

"That is all behind us," he declares, a note of determination in his voice. "Our wounds are still fresh, but we are here, and we are healing. We'll get through this, we always have." His smirk carries a promise of resilience, and you nod in agreement, surrendering to the irresistible urge to find solace in the warmth of his lips pressed against yours.

Author's notes: Oh boy I haven't posted any of my writings since 2018 but damn BG3 has sparked something in me. Astarion is something special and I love him. If anyone has some ideas they would like to throw my way I would loved to see them.

Feedback is welcome, hate is not! Have a nice day, cheers.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x dark urge #astarion #astarion imagine #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #baldur's gate #fanfic #writing #reader insert #astarion ancunin #angst #hurt/comfort

[prosekaipng]

Untrained version by: @prosekaipng Trained version by: @lovesick-level-up

#mafuyu asahina #25 ji nightcord de #25 ji night code de #nightcord at 25:00 #project sekai #project sekai colorful stage #colorful stage #transparent #png #2023 #4 stars #Searching for a Reflection Beneath the Waters #by: lovesick-level-up #mine

[onestopfanficshop]

a fish with a bowtie

a simon "ghost" riley x reader blurb part two here!

no shock that i have fallen for yet another tall, muscular masked man. nothing new here! 😭

warnings/author's note: it feels so good to actually be able to write again omg. i included a very poorly drawn floor plan of the house in my head so you can visualize it better- nothing worse than not being able to see a story in your head! just some language and unreasonable amounts of fluff. your call sign is sparrow. simon being simon. gif not mine

word cound: 2100

"If any of you get boot prints on my tile, I swear to God…" you threaten weakly, kicking your shoes off at the door. The team knew better than to argue. You had saved their asses back at the warehouse breach–and unfortunately, you also took the brunt of the damage. Your head was throbbing, and your legs threatened to give out at any moment beneath you. The team had been successful with your help, but the attack was loud. They figured they'd lie low for a couple of days and let the smoke clear, but they needed a safe house. You debated it for a second before reluctantly telling the boys that you knew a place.

Unluckily for you, that place was your house.

The team silently marveled at your home. It seemed to be a perfect reflection of you but also not at the same time. For someone that claimed to be no frills, your couch sure did look fancy. But your collection of vinyls matched up with all the music recommendations you'd give them between missions. Soap geeked out over the movie posters you had framed around the living room, and Price squinted at your coffee table decor. He never took you for a candle person.

"Is that an original Back to the Future poster?" Soap asked in awe. 

"Mhm…" you mumble distantly, racking the fridge for food. You zone out on the bright lights of the fridge for a second before letting out a grim chuckle. Of course there was no food. You were barely ever in this house– if you kept food in the fridge, it would all go rotten. Seriously, how fucked up was your brain right now?

You decided to search for the pantry next. It was mostly empty, save for a few spices and boxes of tea here or there. Your eyes searched the shelves until you found what you were looking for: exactly five bowls of nearly expired Hot-and-Spicy ramen soup, which was just enough for you, Soap, Price, Gav, and Ghost. You thanked whatever higher power might exist out there as you stacked the bowls on top of each other, carrying them close to your chest to avoid dropping them.

"I have the finest delicacy here for you, boys," you say humorously. "Three Michelin stars,” you continue, earning a laugh from Soap and Gaz. You set the bowls down on the kitchen island, keeping one for yourself. You tear open the lid and untwist a water bottle cap, pouring the water up to the ridged line inside the bowl. After you poured the tiny packet of dehydrated vegetables and chicken, you stick it into the microwave and lean cross-armed on the kitchen island, waiting for the three minutes to pass. The rest dutifully follow your lead, taking turns with the microwave built into your kitchen and the other one that was plugged in on the counter. 

"Dinner" was eaten in relative silence. Not that anyone could hear anything anyways (you really needed to tell Soap to go easy on the frags before you all went deaf). You were too busy eating your soup to notice the team sneaking glances at each other and then at you, Ghost most of all.

After you all ate, you pointed everyone to their rooms. Soap went straight away, which is how you could tell he was really exhausted. Price and Gaz sat on the couch debriefing for a while before they headed to bed, too. Only you and Ghost were left. You were lying on the couch, half-tuned in to some old-time game show on the TV. Ghost sat on the loveseat to the right of you, polishing his gun and sneaking occasional glances at the TV—and at you. 

“Shit,” you exclaimed suddenly. Ghost halted his movements, watching as you got up to a sitting position, closing your eyes.

“What is it?” he asked you quietly, finger moving instinctively to the trigger.

“No, I’m fine. I just… I just remembered I have to wash my hair. It’ll be a fucking miracle if I don’t collapse in the shower,” you sighed. “It’s a whole process, and it’s gonna take forever, and it’s already late… I’d better start now,” you finish, rubbing your eyes.

Ghost sat for a moment, contemplating what you said.

“I’ll do it for you.”

“What?”

“I mean—only if you want. I could. Over the sink or... something.” It’s the first time you ever heard Ghost sound unsure of himself, and it completely threw you off.

“Are you... sure?” you ask, staring at him.

“Positive,” he replied, staring back.

“Okay… I’ll be right back,” you say, moving towards the stairs. Once you were in your bathroom, you grabbed everything you would need: a towel, shampoo, conditioner, and your beloved shampoo brush.

When you got back downstairs, you found Ghost ungloved and running water in the sink, absentmindedly touching his fingers to the stream of water as his eyes were fixed on the TV. It occurred to you that he was making sure the temperature of the water would be okay for you. You weren’t entirely sure why your stomach got light at the sight of it, but you stubbornly decided to ignore it.

“You ready?” he asked, eyeing all the stuff you were carrying. 

“Mhm,” you say, setting everything down on the counter. “I’ll just lie like this over the sink to make it easier for you,” you tell him, lying down and pulling your knees up on the unusually long kitchen island. The size of the island had been something that drew you to the house when you were house shopping, even though you weren’t home enough to cook on it.

“Is that a torture device?” Ghost said, jutting his chin at the shampoo brush sitting on the counter as he got your hair wet.

You laugh for the first time all day when your eyes land on what he’s gesturing at. “Far from it. You kinda just use it to get the shampoo into my scalp. Probably my favorite invention.”

“Your favourite invention?” Ghost repeated to you.

“Yeah. What’s yours?” you ask him. 

He’s silent for a minute as he squeezes the shampoo onto your hair and works it into a lather.

“Electric kettle,” he responds finally.

“You Brits and your tea,” you say fondly, laughing to yourself. Ghost let out a sound, and it took you a second before you realized he chuckled. He laughed. You had never heard him laugh before. You decided you liked the sound.

“What’s your favorite kind of tea, Ghost?” you ask, closing your eyes. He had started using the shampoo brush, and it felt like heaven. You could feel the grime and dried blood dislodging from your scalp; you didn’t even want to see what the sink looked like right now.

“Black tea, maybe earl gray. But I’m not picky,” he shrugged. His eyes narrowed at the nape of your neck where he saw a thin line of blood. 

“You have an interesting cut back here, Sparrow.” He started rinsing out the shampoo as he carefully moved your hair aside to examine it further.

“Well, shit,” you say, sighing louder than necessary. “How bad is it? Is it stitch-worthy? Am I gonna make it?” you ask sarcastically.

“No stitches. You’ll live. Unfortunately,” Ghost deadpans. You roll your eyes at him just as you notice his hands aren’t in your hair anymore. You turn your head to see him squinting at the conditioner bottle.

“The hell is this for?” he asked.

“The conditioner?” you replied incredulously. 

“I know what it is, it’s just—why is it separate?” 

You squint your eyes in thought, trying to understand what he meant when it suddenly clicked.

“Simon…” you say, a wicked grin spreading on your face as you move up to a sitting position, carful not to drip water everywhere. His eyes shot down to look at you. That got his attention. You almost never called him by his actual name. “Please don’t tell me you use it.”

“Use what?” Ghost pressed, getting mildly annoyed. Oh, how he wanted to wipe that stupidly adorable annoying smile off your face. He hated not being in on a joke, even if he rarely showed it.

“On today’s true crime episode,” you say, grabbing the conditioner bottle out of his hands to use as a makeshift microphone. He crosses his arms at your antics, seeming oblivious to the fact that he was getting water and eucalyptus-scented suds all over the arms of his uniform.

“We’re looking at one of the most prolific criminals out there, Lieutenant Ghost. It’s terrifying, it’s horrifying, it's downright disturbing. What are his crimes ,you ask? Using two-in-one… shampoo and conditioner,” you finish, lowering your voice for dramatic effect.

“Fucking hell,” Ghost rasps, voice tinged with exasperation. “Am I not supposed to?”

“No!” you whisper-shout, mindful of your sleeping teammates. “Shampoo strips all the oils from your hair and conditioner puts moisture back in! How could one product do that simultaneously? I mean, seriously, Ghost,” you say, squeezing a generous amount into the palm of your hand before smoothing it over your strands. “It’s common sense.”

“It’s not common sense. Tedious and unnecessary is what it is,” he replies gruffly, watching you put the conditioner on. “So what, you just–put it on, and… leave it there?”

“Yeah… I usually leave it in for 15 minutes while I do other stuff but I’ll just let it sit for a couple minutes since I’m-” you pause, yawning. “Tired.”

“Do you want me to wash it out for you?” he asks, his voice going unusually soft.

“Yes, please,” you responded, lying back down so your hair was over the edge of the sink again. 

His fingers thread through your hair, ridding it of the last traces of conditioner. You force your eyes closed, trying not to think about the fact that Ghost’s face was mere inches away from yours. You felt something cold brush by your face, and your eyes shoot open to see the gleam of his dog tags dangling over you.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he mumbled, tucking them back into his uniform like it was nothing.

Like it didn’t just get your heart caught in your throat.

You can feel his hands wringing out the water in your hair, strong enough to get your hair dry but not strong enough to hurt you. In a final act of pure kindness, he takes the towel sprawled out on the counter and throws it over your head.

“Done,” he says nonchalantly, ignoring your muffled protests from under the towel. When you finally get the towel off and tie it around your hair, you see him standing by the bottom of the stairs, leaning against the wall and watching you intently. Suddenly shy, you pull a stray blanket off of one of the chairs at the island and wrap yourself in it as makeshift armor from his icy gaze.

“You going to bed?” he asks as you walk up. You spin on your heel to look back down at where he’s still standing, arms crossed.

“No. I was actually just about to go for a six mile run,” you shoot back, rolling your eyes. “You should go to sleep too, Ghost. I could see your beady little eyes fighting to stay open at the dinner table.”

“My eyes are not beady.”

“Whatever. I’m going to bed. You can stay up until my neighbor's rooster Fish starts crowing if you like,” you say, fighting off another yawn.

“Your neighbor has a rooster named Fish?” he asks, amusement tinting his voice as he starts up the steps after you.

“Mr. Stricker is a strange man,” you reply. You’re met with a few seconds of silence as Ghost catches up to you.

“What do you call a fish wearing a bow tie?” he questions.

“Oh God.”

“Sofishticated,” he continues, not missing a beat. You were not expecting the laugh that erupts from your lips, and you clamp a hand over your mouth, wary of the rest of the team sleeping right above you. 

“That was so not funny,” you say, clearing your throat in a poor attempt to cover up your smile.

“Mhm. And yet you laughed,” Ghost replied. Even in the dim light, you can spot the glint in his eyes. You’d like to think that under his mask, he was smiling too. 

He fell into step with you now, his hands brushing against yours as you two made it up the rest of the stairs. There was plenty of room for both of you to walk without touching each other, but you didn’t pull your hand away.

Neither did he.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley fanfic #mw2 #modern warfare 2 #ghost x reader #onestopfanficshop

[prskcostumes]

Twilight Seek

Twilight Seek is a costume that can be obtained by pulling in any N25-centric gacha past the Limited-Run Heart in Water Gacha! The costume comes with an Exclusive Accessory for Mafuyu and a Standard Accessory!

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#project sekai #colorful stage #project sekai colorful stage #proseka #prsk #mafuyu asahina #asahina mafuyu #mafuyu costumes #card costumes #limited card costumes #world link card costumes #Searching for a Reflection Beneath the Waters