#anyway. i have so so so many ideas i honestly don’t know where to start

[bomber-grl]

Nico Di Angelo x Child of Medusa 🐍

Pairing(s): Nico Di Angelo x M!Reader

A req for @calypso-74213! Also cringe-ish warning

Everyone at camp is terrified of you

I mean its said that people are scared of what they don’t understand

And you’re sort of an anomaly

Not to mention that you’re able to turn ppl to stone, the only barrier separating them and you, bding your sunglasses

Also because you closely resemble humans/ demigods

Yknow, besides the snakes instead of/ amongst your hair, scales here and there, and your eyes

Especially since Medusa isn’t known to be particularly fond of men, so it leaves much to think about and question

Then again, Athena-

Anyway

Many aren’t fond of you, that’s a given. I mean many campers weren’t very welcoming of Nico and his status(?) as son of hades so I can only imagine the treatment you go through

I mean at least everyone has the decency to pretend to be nice to you

But the tension is still there

The first day you were introduced was by Chiron, usually he’d leave the camper up to the counselor these days but you’re a special exception (along with Percy)

So bam, new cabin for not a god but rather Medusa

I’d imagine a lot of discourse, especially since it’s only for godly parents and the whole pride aspect

But eventually, with much persistence from Percy and others who are willing to back you up, you get one

Which is only a result of them being proven wrong by your origins and proven to be a nice person

Also, might I add, you’re likely here because of being mortal/not completely monster and need protection like many demigods

Anyways, Nico isn’t at camp all that much

Especially since he has this idea that many people aren’t fond of him (which changes throughout the series)

When he hears about you through the grapevine he’s intrigued

He never thought that someone such as yourself would even exist but then again he could say that about the gods and Olympus

Only once he finds out that you’re treated like shit (at the start of your stay) does he go to find you and see what your deal is

And he’s pleasantly surprised

You pass all his standards

1. Don’t be an asshole

2. Don’t be an asshole

Oh, and did I mention don’t be an asshole?

You were more than pleasant to hang out with and he found himself looking for you amongst the crowds of demigods at camp

He looked forward to seeing you again

Only then does he realize how he’s fallen in love with you

He never would’ve imagined he’d ever fall in love with a son of Medusa, but here he is

He’s admittedly hesitant to confess to you

It’s so obvious too

You’re at the lake like you usually are

You tend to spend time there when you’re not having fun at arts and crafts or training with weapons

This is the time of day you two usually hang out and that’s only proven more by the fact that Nico is seated right next to you, gazing at you

Almost lost in thought but then you snap him back to reality- wondering what’s up

That’s when he just tells you, he almost shrinks away until you tell him that you reciprocate his feelings

He’s honestly shocked by the whole thing and just stares at you until you hesitantly hold his hand

From them on you’re officially boyfriends and he can’t emphasize how happy he is to have you

The sun isn’t always shining and so bad things are bound to happen, what’d you expect? You two are a demigod and a half monster (?)

Your origins might be a mystery but you know better than anyone not to fear the dark

So when Nicos having certain days where he’s struggling, he’s glad that you can embrace all of him

Change of tone but you and Nico are just chilling as Jules- Albert drives you places when Nico realizes something

He’s never seen your eyes, or rather, looked you straight on

I mean you’ve kissed, hugged, etc etc but he’s never seen you without your glasses

Which how could he? He’d literally be turned to stone

But that doesn’t stop him from wondering

His eerily long silence next to you prompts you to ask him what’s up

And finally after much convincing that ‘we listen and we don’t judge’

He tells you

And of course you laugh but just because you find it endearing that he wants to

Of course it’s something that never goes anywhere but if he asks a Hecate kid if there’s stone proof potions- well that’s none of your business

[dollhousemary]

god…i know it’s not good to dwell on what could’ve been, but i keep thinking about how awesome it would have been if i’d started making supernatural amvs at the height of the renaissance

[edge-oftheworld]

“yknow as a fandom I think we could do a better job of appreciating Sierra Deaton”

No just have less appreciating Sierra cause she’s been anti-black, a creep towards fans, invalidated a 5sos fan’s mental health because they’re a fan, trauma dumped on young fans and overshared, slut shamed Ashton, and so on and so forth

hey anon!! Thanks for this concise little list. But seriously, thanks for making me think and pull together a bunch of ideas in my head; I hope in this essay really you can see some of my thought process. I can’t imagine how hard it’d be to be reaching out with something really hard and expect compassion and get a negative interaction instead—if that was you or whoever it is I hope they’re doing better and finding community and people who care. And I don’t want to pretend she’s perfect or has done everything right, we know that’s not how it is, Sierra knows that, Luke knows that, so does, idk, God.

and I’ll admit I’m a bit old fashioned when it comes to cancelling people and I do like to try and see the good in people where possible—sometimes imo it’s the only way to get any positive change. to look beyond the superficial where someone might lash out—is it in malice, or fear, a momentary impulse they might regret later or maybe realise for some reason were pushed to a point where they couldn’t manage anything better. I know I’ve been to that point and I know how I spiral if I don’t know how to forgive myself. I also know this is a fandom where shit gets real and we’re young and hurting and sometimes that just makes us defenceless against our idols and those around them being human, and the shitty side of human we all have potential to become too. And we live in an era of systemic racism and lack of access to mental health services which both causes and exacerbates so many issues that, was the world not so anti-black; had every mentally ill child and youth a support network in real life (instead of the way many of us often spend years only ever feeling seen by the songs we listen to, 5sos songs easily filling in that need)—we might be a little more able to be like ‘wtf that’s not cool but that’s a her problem’ and move on. and can I say we do deserve a world that doesn’t discriminate. And in order to get what we deserve we have to make it. and in order to make it we have to learn how to do better and let people learn to do better—these people aren’t going anywhere. somehow bad people have to turn into good people and yes in order to do that they have to be made accountable. Repentance is truly a beautiful thing; it’s also something that can’t happen when we feel scared and in our survival brain. When we feel like that we tend to easily get into us vs them and dig deeper into our (often wrong) convictions and that’s actually an evolutionary response to when we have to fight against predators; we don’t have time to think ‘but what if they’re actually in the right’ when we’re fighting for our lives.

and this isn’t the place to psychoanalyse Sierra. I don’t know exactly what goes on in her head, I don’t know if she’s sorry or even remembers these things but I do know the rift between her and fans has been quite heated and even scary at some points over the years. And maybe I have the privilege of never being someone who has been hurt by her to have grace for the fact that ‘gotta be nice to this fan they’re having an experience of a lifetime to be interacting with my partner and I’m gonna give the benefit of the doubt that they’re not one of the individuals in a sea of fans who all look identical to me sending me death threats’ is a hell of a lot to put your brain through every single day. If she (and it’s not if, we know she did) make mistakes. If there was too much trauma to hold and she put it out on the internet to cope in a season of her life. If the insecurity became jealousy of one of the most important people in her s/o’s life which became insults that were thrown around back in high school before everyone realised how uncool they were and tried to stop using them but they were still burned in their brains to come out on impulse (I actually have no idea how that specific event went down, or if there were one or multiple). I hope they sorted that out internally; I don’t know what else I can do but trust that it’s something they’re capable of doing and care for each other enough as a group of friends and songwriters to do.

I wanted to save the lateral racism example for last because I feel like everything above is kind of a metaphor for it, if you follow. I’m coming from a place where I’m southeast asian and part white living in a largely western country, so is Sierra, so I’m automatically going to see her as ‘like me’ (and can I say how rarely I get this kind of representation?) whereas if you’re black, or if you find your experience more relatable to blackness, then you’re going to experience this very differently. I can’t know your experience. I also know that asians can be brutal in this area: it’s the reason my childhood best friend hasn’t told her dad she got engaged to her partner nearly a year ago. Lateral racism isn’t okay. But unfortunately what happens is often when you’re discriminated against in some ways we’re conditioned to take the side of the oppressor against someone who’s discriminated against in other ways. It’s all ‘okay maybe I’m x and I should be y but at least I’m not z’ and again it’s that evolutionary survival instinct to not be at the bottom of the pile; channeled in horrible ways into today’s society. It takes a lot of effort and self awareness to be like ‘we’re united in this experience of being oppressed, together we have the power to make a stand that this is Not Cool’ and most of us fail the first few times. but what’s important is we keep trying. we can all heal together when we do.

so anon I have no idea who you are or your background or how much you’ve had to wrestle with this yourself, if you’ve had to stand up against communities who were hostile, if you’ve had to do this while being discriminated against from outside as well, if you know the experience of not fully being one race but not fully being another etc. and also you’ve got no obligation to like Sierra, this is such unsolicited advice but this whole release period for boy ep I’ve really just been thinking ‘it’s healthy to feel our feelings even when it’s not always pleasant isn’t it’ and wherever that hurt is please love it embrace it bring it into the light whatever you do to realise you’re valuable and you don’t have anything to be ashamed of. even your mistakes and where you’ve hurt people and regret that, you’re gonna grow so much from that and have so many chances to do better. maybe you’re young and you haven’t had the chance to hurt anyone yet. I hope you manage to stay that way but if you do, I hope you can forgive yourself too. I hope you dip your toes in activism for Black Lives Matter, for mental health, for sex positivity, I can see you really value these things and that’s really encouraging to see.

and in the end: sometimes I have to be annoyingly human and come down to the fact that I really enjoy the songs that Sierra writes. I’ve fanned enough about gothic summer on this blog already. I enjoy the things she writes and so I listen to them, and I’m not actively boycotting Sierra specifically, I love the creative outcomes when she works with 5sos as a whole, with Luke, with other artists I love as well. As a result I do care about her as a person, I always do, and hey, I respect her funny little routine donations and the undertones of her UNICEF donation back in October and the random animal sanctuary and the occasional nod to some Australian mental health charity.

I’ve inferred a lot about how much more relaxed and at ease and free to feel things and process life at his own pace Luke seems to be with her than beforehand—and the fan in me who’s so protective of these guys just desperately wants someone to be there for them in ways that really matter and I feel like we have seen that, even despite the often rocky nature of the relationship between Sierra and Luke’s fans. Luke is someone I relate to a lot, and there are some experiences that are really hard to come back from, and I’m really proud of him right now and I do get the impression being with Sierra has really helped him get there. I don’t know for sure, I could be wrong, but I’m always going to be grateful when celebrities get to be human and not have their lives and choices dictated by fans either directly or indirectly. I’ll take the allies I can in my activism and even if there are criticisms around sincerity I do generally see Sierra trying and I want to appreciate that. I don’t want to say she hasn’t hurt anyone ever and I pray for resolution and peace for the fans, for Ashton, for her, for the Black community in general, for everyone who’s been hurt in the wake of colonialism and the generational trauma it breeds. And then I’ll go listen to bloodline and think, maybe in some ways we were born inheriting the sins of our parents before we knew better. But every day I discover ways of choosing better and compassion takes us so far and I hope every day I learn a bit more about how to channel that.

thank you for the ask, it really got me thinking and the opportunity to compile some thoughts I’d had that I didn’t realise formed a neat little mindmap around Sierra as a case study!! Much more fun than regular sociology. And I didn’t even get to delve into the political history of Saigon that I’ve been trying to understand more about!!

[rosicheeks]

hmmmmmmm torn on valentine’s day gifts… do you want to be kidnapped and facefucked and played with and used as my personal pretty toy? or, since distance is so homophobic, maybe just get some nudes? or just soft cuddles and reassurance of how beautiful you are and how perfect i know you are, how you deserve the world and more? or heck, just a few hours of casual and gentle pussy eating? so much to do, so little time!

-🌸

Is all of the above an option 👀

[charliemwrites]

…. So Mister(s) steal your girl, huh?

Content: Unhappy Relationship, (Brief) Gaslighting, Sad Reader

Bombshells, you always thought, were supposed to making a whistling sound before landing. A high pitched warning of impending doom. Too late to escape the incoming devastation, but at least it wouldn’t come out of nowhere. There’d be some time to brace, for all the good it would do.

Maybe you watched too many movies.

Three months. That’s how long you got to enjoy the bliss of engagement before the world began to fall around you.

Your fiance came home and sat you down, his hand around yours. You thought he was breaking it off for some reason. What he did instead was worse.

In the aftermath you can only remember snippets of the one-sided conversation. Like tinnitus, an awful running in your ears left over from a dropped bomb.

Things like,

Still young, I want to explore…

How will I know you’re my forever unless I know what’s out there?

Last bit of freedom before being tied down…

If you love me and our relationship…

You love your fiance and your relationship. You don’t want to lose it just because you’re selfish. He’s still coming home to you, after all. You’re the one with the ring and all the plans for the future. So what if he wants to… explore? He’s even offering the same to you.

An open relationship, he calls it, like it’s some innovative idea.

You’ve heard of them before, never had much interest. Still don’t, honestly, but it was that or the desolution of 4 years.

You insisted on a long engagement. Your fiance promises that you two can revisit the open relationship when you’re married.

Within a week of agreeing, he’s leaves for the weekend. He doesn’t tell you where he’s going, who he’s meeting. He comes back Sunday evening smelling like someone else’s perfume with a hickey on his collarbone. When you refuse any advances, he sighs and says he “understands that this is a transition” and goes to shower.

It’s like that for six months. Weekends without him. Sometimes sending him off Friday morning and not seeing him until Monday evening. Lipstick on his collars, strange perfume invading the laundry. You start doing his clothes separately.

Six months. You spend months suffering in silence, sniffling through Saturdays and drifting through Sundays. Adjusting meal plans to cook for one.

The last straw is when you try to make plans on a holiday. You and your fiance haven’t done on a proper date in months. You want to go out, have all his attention on you, not shared with his phone.

“Ooh, sorry dear, I’ve already got plans with Malorie. Rain check, yeah? We’ll do something next week.”

You decide to go out anyway, sick of feeling sorry for yourself. Nothing fancy, just a bit of self care. You buy yourself a cute new outfit, put on a bit more makeup than usual, do your hair. Find an interesting little late night book shop. They serve wine and food and have comfy booths for people to read or talk or play board games.

The perfect place to be out but alone.

You’re debating the merits of a romance novel when a voice comes from your left.

“Love that one.”

You blink, glance up. Find a handsome man with eyes simultaneously so dark and so warm. Coals, you think. There’s a cheeky little quirk to his mouth as he nods at the novel.

“It’s good if you like will-they, won’t-they.”

You hum. “I’m more in the market for something… easier? If that makes sense.”

He hums, gives you a solemn look. “It does. Here, you might like this then.”

He plucks a book off the shelf and offers it for inspection. You feel awkward reading it the summary thoroughly, especially when you can feel his eyes on you. But you skim it, it looks promising, and a hot guy just suggested it, so…

“Read a lot of romance?” you ask curiously.

He ducks his head a bit, endearingly shy. “A bit, yeah. Call me hopeless.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, but can’t help saying. “I think it’s just romantic.”

His eyes light up. “Yeah? And what kind of books d’you usually like?”

Before you know it, you’re talking thrillers and horror novels with him. Recommending your favorite spooky novel and then following up that you always read a comedy afterwards as a palette cleanser.

You end up touring each other around the shop, talking books and authors and genres. Yet you’re somehow surprised when he asks if you’d like to sit with him. But you agree, a little thrill in your stomach that you haven’t felt since… a while.

You each buy a stack of books, then claim a booth and proceed to read none of them. He tells you his name is Kyle, that he’s in the military but on leave right now, stocking up on entertainment for flights or long spans of hurrying up and waiting.

You’ve never met a military guy before, and you trip over your curiosity. Trying not to pry but interested in what he does. He’s polite and patient, admitting there are a lot of things he can’t tell you but he’ll answer. You don’t stay on the subject long, figuring the last thing he wants to talk about it work.

He gets you back in the department of uncomfortable topics when he notices the ring on your finger. You’re quick to explain the situation, hot with shame all over again, eyes stinging despite yourself.

Instead of mocking you or just getting up and walking away, Kyle sits back looking flabbergasted.

“That’s fucking mental,” he says, “excuse me for saying.”

You burst into laughter. Haven’t told anyone any of this out of embarrassment, but hearing someone on your side is… good.

“I thought so too, but… he’s happy,” you admit.

Kyle frowns. “What about you?”

You blink, can’t look him in the eye. You know the answer but make a show of thinking about it.

“I’d… like to be again. This — the open relationship thing — seems to be working for him. So… maybe it’ll work for me too?” You shrug. “Worth a try.”

Kyle reaches across the table, a big warm hand enveloping yours. There are callouses you’re not expecting. Tantalizingly different.

“Would you like to try it with me?” he asks. “Don’t have to put a label on it or anything. But my schedule is a bit… it’s hard to keep up a traditional relationship, you know? But I like you, and I think your fiance is a knob.”

You snort, but flip your hand around, thumb brushing over his.

“Yeah…” you muse, and after saying it, a surge of confidence infuses you. “Yeah, I’d like to try this with you.”

His smile is absolutely brilliant. You won’t admit — not even to yourself for a long time — but you fall in love a little right then and there.

Next

Masterlist

[buckys-lover]

Dile (Cuéntale)

miguel o’hara x spiderwoman!reader

song inspo: dile by don omar + playlist

main masterlist // nsfw masterlist

word count: 4.5k

summary: Miguel gets jealous of your relationship with Peter. He’s on a mission to prove he’s better.

warnings: SMUT (18+), minors DNI, porn without much plot (I need him carnally), jealous/possessive miguel, biting kink (pretend his bites aren’t paralyzing y’all), miguel being a munch!, unprotected sex (pls be safe irl), overstimulation? (he makes you cum a lot), creampie/breeding kink, dirty talk, operating under the assumption they’re both nude under their suits, Spanish (I’ll put translations in a reblog), mutual pining/a confession!?, way too many italics bc I need to emphasize everything.

A/N: this was just supposed to be a short concept piece…and it ended up taking me three weeks to write bc I just kept adding more. anyways, felt weird to write miguel speaking spanish if the reader doesn’t understand so this is technically latina!reader // as always, feedback is greatly appreciated, reblog and lmk what you think! <333

Translation Reblog

You’re coming back from a successful mission with Peter (Spiderman 9411). You were able to stop and capture an anomaly, a variation of Doc Ock, and send them back to their original universe. Upon your return, you make your way to HQ to brief Miguel on what happened. Everything was going fine. You and Peter were laughing and joking around together while giving report, just having a good time.

Meanwhile, Miguel was watching you both intently, narrowing in on the way that Peter casually touches you, the way he looks at you, the smile that reaches his eyes when he’s around you. Miguel was always suspicious that there was something going on between you two. A week ago, his suspicion was confirmed when Lyla mentioned that you two slept together (even though you made her promise not to tell anyone). And he couldn’t stand it.

He keeps his tone clipped and cold. Simply saying you did a good job before dismissing you. You and Peter turn to leave, but Miguel speaks up, telling you to stay behind. You don’t think much of it; after all, you were one of the few people Miguel was close to. Maybe he just wanted to discuss something unrelated. You tell Peter to head out and you’ll catch up with him later. The doors shut behind him, and you can hear them lock. The room is silent except for the occasional beeps and replays of other missions on the screens. Miguel doesn’t say a word as he steps off the platform and walks toward you. Tension lingers in the air as you face each other.

He's the first to break the silence, “What’s going on with you and Peter?”

You’re a bit taken aback, confused about where this was coming from, “What are you talking about? We’re just friends.”

He shakes his head in frustration, “No me mientas cariño; I’m not blind!”

“Miguel, no sé de que estás hablando.” But you do know. And it’s becoming evident that Lyla snitched on you.

“Don’t play dumb.” His voice hardens, and he comes closer, “Answer me.”

You’re starting to get fed up with his attitude. What you and Peter do is none of his business, and you place a hand on his chest to try and push him away, but he’s firm in place.

He grabs your wrist and leans down, a harsh whisper in your ear, “Tell me, what does he have that I don’t?”

It hits you then, and you pull back, narrowing your eyes at him, “Estás celoso?” You scoff in disbelief when you finally take notice of his jealousy. You honestly want to laugh, but the look on Miguel’s face lets you know that’d be a bad idea.

“You didn’t answer me.” He huffs.

You decided then to stoke the flames, “Let’s find out.” Maybe he’d finally cut through the tension and get to what you know you’ve both been craving.

Your heart races as the tension between you reaches its peak. With a daring glance, you take a step closer to Miguel, bodies almost touching. Your eyes lock, and the air crackles with anticipation.

You take in the way his pupils dilate at your words as he leans in, your lips mere millimeters apart, teasingly close. “Tell me you want this as much as I do.” He murmured, voice heavy with need.

His admission sends shivers down your spine. Your breath hitches and your heart hammers against your chest. You've wanted this for a long time, and nothing's stopping you now. You wrap your arms around his neck and close the remaining distance between your lips. Mouths colliding in a passionate and urgent kiss, all your pent-up desires finally unleashed.

Your bodies mold together as your tongues intertwine, exploring and tasting each other with a fervor born of longing. Miguel's hands find their way to your waist, pulling you even closer while your fingers weave through his hair, tugging gently.

Breaking the kiss, your heavy breaths mingle in the air, eyes locked with an intensity that speaks volumes.

"Don't hold back, Miguel. Enseñame. Show me you're better." Your thighs clench when you hear his growl in response.

Your lips soon meet again in a hungry, passionate kiss, igniting a fire that has been smoldering for far too long. As your bodies press against each other, your hands begin to explore, tracing the contours of each other's forms. Miguel's touch is possessive, his fingertips leaving a trail of tingling sensations on your skin.

You’re backed up against the console as Miguel's lips descend upon your neck, trailing a path of fiery kisses along your skin. He revels in the soft gasps that escape your lips.

He lifts you and lays you down; you can feel the coldness of the metal through your suit. His lips are still on your neck, and you can feel the sharp point of his fangs against your delicate skin. Without warning, he bit you, drawing blood. You gasped at the sensation, feeling his tongue soothe over the bite marks that were already beginning to heal.

“Your biting kink is showing.” You tease, still enjoying the residual sting of it.

“I don’t have a-- shut up.” He growled the words into your neck before biting you again. It was obvious that it was something he enjoyed. A way to mark you up and make it clear who you belong to now.

“Te ves tan hermosa así.” He whispers as he pulls away, eyes glued on your neck, giving a hum of satisfaction over the way you look after he’s staked his claim on you.

You watch him as he brings his hand to your collarbone, tracing the marks gently with his claws before he hooks it under the neck of your suit. You hear it first. The sound of the threads tearing before the feel of cool air.

He ripped your suit. He ripped your fucking spider suit. “Miguel!” The shock evident in your voice as he’s practically torn the suit off your body. He meets your gaze, showing no signs of remorse for what he just did. “No te preocupes preciosa. I’ll make you a new one, a better one.”

You huff at his words; you really liked that suit. But your protest quickly dies down the moment you feel his lips on your bare chest. He’s taking his time with you, marking you up as much as he possibly can. Lips latching onto your nipple, tongue swirling around and sucking while his hand gives attention to your other breast. Your back is arching, trying to get as close to his mouth as possible, reveling in the feeling of him sucking and nibbling your sensitive skin.

“Love these fucking tits.” He whispers against your skin as he holds them in his hand, loving the softness of them and how you react. You need him desperately as his kisses and bites travel further down your body. You’re squirming under his touch, and once his lips meet the apex of your thighs, you buck your hips up into him. Your fingers make their way into his hair, tugging him so he places that sinful mouth where you need him most.

“Por favor Miguel,” You can barely think straight with the way he’s looking at you. “Necesito…” Your words trail off. He looks at you, a teasing glimmer in his eyes, “Qué necesitas?”

You groan in frustration, tugging his hair again to show him what you mean. He just shakes his head at you, not willing to budge until he hears you beg for him. He’s waiting. Patiently. You know Miguel, and he’d wait forever just to prove a point.

You finally give in, “Miguel, please, need you so bad.” He tilts his head, still waiting expectantly; he needs to hear more. He needs to hear how desperate you are for him.

“Ay por Dios! Miguel, I can’t wait any longer. Please- need you…need your mouth. Anything!” You’re whining at this point, and can’t believe how pathetic you sound. But it was enough. That’s what he needed to hear before finally giving you what you craved.

He has your thighs tight in his grip, spread apart in front of him. You meet his hungry stare as his lips latch onto your pussy, sucking at your clit. Your hips buck up, grinding onto his face as a needy moan escapes your lips. He groans, enjoying the pressure, tongue lapping up your juices.

“Tastes so good, so fucking sweet~ could eat you for days…and so wet; todo para mi, amor?” He’s on a high, whining the words into you. Craving you and the way you feel with his mouth on you, trying to keep you close as possible.

Your thighs begin to tremble, and you try your best not to crush his face. He takes notice and shakes his head. His grip tightens and presses you closer to him as if he wanted to confine himself in the slice of heaven you carry between your legs. And, God, it feels good. He’s watching you, observing the way you toss your head back in pleasure, how your free hand tries grasping at anything to ground you, the way your body shivers at his touch; he’s learning your every movement, committing your body to memory.

"Need you, such a good fucking pussy- so good…eres mía, solo mía.” The sounds he makes are obscene and he’s rambling, showering you in praise while drunk on the taste of you.

You’re squirming against him, not much movement granted as large hands are holding you down, eating you like a man starved. As if he’s on death row and you’re his last meal, and you’re not sure how much more you can take.

“Miguel~” Your voice strained, barely able to speak and tell him that you’re close, so embarrassingly close.

“C’mon, be a good girl ‘n cum for me.” He encourages, tongue flicking at your clit to bring you closer to the edge. You gasped as you felt Miguel running a finger up and down your slit, teasing you before working their way inside your weeping cunt, curling up and hitting that spot inside that has you seeing stars. Your grip is still tight in his hair, thighs quivering as your orgasm washed over you, the sensation rippling throughout your whole body.

You’re vaguely aware of Miguel pulling away as you’re coming down from your high, blissed out and hazy. It felt like you ascended to the heavens. In your daze, you look at him, noting the arrogant smirk on his face and his fingers glistening in the dim light, covered with your juices. He holds your gaze as he brings his fingers up to his mouth and sucks them clean, moaning contently at the taste of you.

“I’m guessing Peter could never make you feel this way, huh?” He’s right, and he knows it. But you couldn’t help but want to push his buttons.

You hum in response, “Mm, he was pretty good with his tongue too.” Teasing, waiting for him to react. And you see it; the way his body language changes in an instant at your insinuation.

He sneers at you, baring his fangs and gripping your chin to look him in his eyes, glowing red with anger, “You better watch your fucking mouth, sweetheart.”

“Or what? Qué vas a hacer Miguelito?”

Miguel narrows his eyes at the provocation, a dangerous glimmer in his eyes. “Ten cuidado, preciosa,” He hisses through gritted teeth as he leans in. His grip tightens, keeping his gaze set on you. “Sigue hablando y verás.” And just like that, his attitude changes on a dime, the anger in his eyes replaced by a hungry glint, a low growl rumbling in his throat as he leans closer to you. You barely take the time to notice that his suit is disappearing as if it were a hologram or nanotech, leaving him naked. You feel his length press up against you, and your eyes widen in shock. He’s big. Already hard and aching for you and you feel his precum drip against the inside of your thigh. You can’t help but wriggle your hips, desperate to feel him closer. “Look what you do to me.” He whispers the words in your ear as he grinds against you. Your eyes take their time looking down. Taking in everything that’s him. His broad shoulders, rippling muscles, chiseled abs; it’s insane how strong he is. You shiver at the thought of what he’s capable of. Your gaze dips further, following his happy trail down just as he’s started teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock, “Been waiting for this,” He groans, eyes shining with excitement, “No tienes idea querida.” "Bet it won’t compare, huh?” He asks, still painstakingly teasing you, “Bet it’ll feel so much better than all the times I’ve fucked my fist thinking of you and this pretty little pussy.” You gasp at his words, clenching around nothing, waiting in anticipation for him to finally fuck you. He laughs at your desperation. “Sabías eso, amor? Fantasized about you all the time, about you being mine. Solo mía.” He punctuates that final proclamation by finally entering you. He was taking his time, the stretch of him inching in was a euphoric mix of pain and pleasure, and you weren’t sure how much more you could take. It was too much; you could begin to see him bulge through your stomach, and you shake your head, not believing that he could possibly get in deeper. “Shh, just take it.” He sighed his words, enjoying the way you feel wrapped around him. “No puedo Miguel-” You gasp as you finally feel him fully press up against you. You’re so full you can barely breathe. Instinctually you wrap your legs around his waist, trying to keep him still while you adjust to his size. He pressed his hand against your navel, pushing down slightly, feeling himself. His eyes roll back at the sensation as a groan escapes his lips, wanting desperately to live in this moment forever. "Mírate." He urges, kissing your cheek. “Mira que bien nos vemos juntos, amor.” You listen to him, looking down at where you’re joined, and you squeeze at the sight of it. You rock your hips against him, letting him know it's okay to move, and he pulls out a little before pressing back in, making you moan while he sighs contently. “Look at how well you’re taking me, like you were made for me. Only for me."

The tenderness of his words was contrasted by the roughness of his movements as he began snapping his hips against yours. “So tight,” his words coming out through a strained growl while pounding into you.  “Dios! You’re squeezing me so fucking tight.”

“Feels so good, Miggy-” Tossing your head back as you moan out, pleasure engulfing you, your legs tightening around him, pressing your heel into his back as you tried to get him deeper. His next thrust was a little more brutal, his hips colliding with the back of your thighs.

“Así mi vida, así.” He growled, baring his fangs in a pleasureful grin. "Look at me." You look up at him immediately, moaning his name loosely at the feeling of him so deep inside you. So deep and big and full.

You can barely hold his gaze, trying desperately to resist the urge to roll your eyes back every time you feel him thrust back into you. You reach forward, nails digging into his bicep, trying to ground yourself in the moment.

“C’mon, you can take, can’t you?” He mocks you, his tone condescending, enjoying the way that he has you craving him. “Esto es lo que querías, verdad? But now look at you, can barely handle it-” His words cut off by a groan escaping his lips at the feeling of you clenching tighter around him.

He’s right, you don’t know how much more of this you can take as your legs begin to shake and you feel yourself quickly approaching orgasm again. Desperate hands gripping onto the flesh of your hip as he ruts into you. You let out a wanton moan as he slams home again, pulsating around him. “Cuéntale,” His grip on you tightens, sure to leave bruises by the time he’s done with you, “Cuéntale que soy mejor que él.” He whispers in your ear.

You’re nodding your head, babbling incoherently, not even aware of anything you’re really saying. He grins, knowing you’re close, and his ego soars at being able to get you there so soon. He groans as he feels you tighten around him; your eyes shut tight, and your body quivers from the intensity as your climax overwhelms you.

He slows down, trying to give you a moment to come down from your high in an effort to avoid overstimulating your senses. Soon, your body begins to relax as you’re grounded once again in reality. Your eyes are glossy with welled-up tears, and you offer Miguel a blissful smile.

“C’mon Miggy, thought you wanted to show me you’re better, I expected more from you-” You’re breathless as you speak, and it’s obvious to him that you’re just trying to egg him on, but he falls for it anyways. In an instant, he stopped his movements. His red eyes have never looked so menacing before and your breath caught in your throat. Without speaking, he pulled out, and you whined at the loss of contact.

He ignores your objection, opting to manhandle you, forcing you to turn around. He presses you down against the console, ass exposed to him. You put up a struggle in vain as he grabs your arms and pulls them back. You soon feel something wrap around your wrists, binding them. He webbed you. Effectively keeping you bound with something you couldn’t possibly hope to escape from. You felt him yank back on the binding, your hands resting above the small of your back. You hissed at the aching pain, but it was soon replaced by a moan of desperation when you felt the plush tip of his cock line up with your entrance. You expected him to tease you again, to make you beg for it, but Miguel was feeling merciless now. He drove into you without warning, making you take it as deep as he could possibly go. And at this new angle, you swear he was hitting your cervix. Your mouth opened in quiet ecstasy as he had his way with you. He kept your wrists behind your back in a tight hold, his other hand gripped firmly on your hip; you were sure that by the end of the day you’d have bruises on your hips in the shape of his fingertips. His hips were snapping relentlessly into yours, pistoning in and out of you so hard it was difficult to have a single coherent thought other than wanting more. Miguel’s growls and grunts were animalistic as they tore through his chest, his grip getting immensely tighter and his hips moving impossibly faster in this new position.

"That's better- fucking ruined and creaming on my cock. Who else can fuck you like this? No one, huh? Not Peter, not Ben, no one; only me.”

You’ve given in now, effectively broken, and all the brattiness you had left in you is gone, "Nadie! Nobody- just you, only you can fuck me like this." You choke out, legs trembling, pleasure coursing through you.

"That's right. You’re mine; mine to touch, to taste, to fuck- all mine." He harshly slaps your ass to emphasize his words. You squeal at the contact of his palm on the soft flesh, enjoying the sting it offers.

“Solo tuyo amor.” The words escape your lips in a breathless sigh, your mind hazy, dizzy with desire.  

He’s all you can think of; your senses overwhelmed by everything that’s him. The way he’s holding on to you, the way he feels aggressively pumping inside you, the grunts and groans he makes that are music to your ears. You’re delirious, unable to remember what your life was like before being here with him. Miguel reaches forward, lightly slapping your cheek. “Open up, sweetheart.” You oblige without a second thought, letting his fingers in your mouth. “Suck.” Who knew a single word could have you clenching so tight around him? A whimper leaves your lips as you obey his command, getting his fingers slick and wet with your spit. Too soon, he removes them from your mouth, and his fingers make their way down to your aching clit, rubbing tight circles to get you even closer to the edge.

“Uno más querida, solo uno más.” He urges as he speeds up his movements. You’re grinding onto his hand, eagerly chasing your release, having lost count of how many times he has had you come undone.

This one hits you like a freight train, full speed ahead. You swear you black out for a moment, your body buzzing and pulsing with a delightful and all-engulfing pleasure. You’re strung out, not offered a break as Miguel keeps pushing into you.

“Quiero verte Miguel, porfa~” You sob your words out from the overwhelming power of your orgasm, trying to turn your head to see the man who has wrecked you so thoroughly.

Slowing down, he listens to your plea and grants your wish, “Nunca te voy a negar.” Before you know it, he’s torn the webbing off your wrists with his claws and turns you around, having you once more on your back, legs spread open, welcoming him in again.

He slips back into your weeping cunt with ease, resuming his brutal pace as he tries to reach his climax. He grips onto the soft flesh of your thigh, claws slightly digging in as you wrap your legs around him, securing his spot inside you.

"Dime que soy tuyo." He pants needily, using his body to drive you forward.

"Eres mío, Miguel-" You gasp, raking your nails down his back to prove it, marking him as yours. "Mine, mine; solo mío amor"

His cock jumps inside you, both of you closer to your release. "That's right. I’m all yours,” His eyes flickered down to the place where your bodies met. Watching your pussy take him in over and over again. “Let me give you all of me- wanna fill you up.”

You unashamedly whimpered at his words, “Please, please Miguel-” Your words are starting to slur as you begin to beg him.

"Please, what? You losin' your words, now? So drunk on my cock you can't think straight?" He slaps your pussy lightly, clit puffy and sensitive. But you can't say anything, not when he's getting rougher, faster— pounding into you with a new force and determination. Rubbing tight circles on your bundles of nerves that have been exploited for the sake of your pleasure. You can feel that familiar feeling building, that knot getting tighter at the base of your stomach.

You’re almost in disbelief that you got there so quick, but with Miguel, it was like he knew your body inside and out, understanding exactly what you needed and giving you so much more.

He’ll never get over it. The way you tighten and pulse around him, the way your cunt squeezes him in a vice grip, making it harder for him to hold off his own release. The way your eyes roll back and the heavenly sounds that leave your mouth. He wants to make you feel this good for the rest of your lives. "Ay Dios— You're so pretty when you cum all over my cock." And he's still going, still pumping into your sensitive cunt with the same force. Your senses are so overwhelmed; it's like you can feel every single one of your nerve endings on fire.    "Fuck, gonna fill you up- that's what you want, right? Wanna feel full of my cum? Want me to breed you?" You're nodding desperately as you start to babble nonsense that you want him, need him, everything he wants to give you, you'll take. He leans down, burying his face in your neck as his groans reverberate against your skin. You feel him twitch inside you as he pushes in deeper, emptying himself inside you, letting you milk him for all he's worth, trying his best to not let a single drop go to waste.

He pulls back, arms braced on both sides of your head, caging you in. He meets your gaze, the red of his eyes barely visible anymore, hooded and glazed over from the feeling of you still squeezing him tight, keeping him locked in. When the haze subsides, his shoulders relax a bit, drawing closer to you. Miguel’s barely audible when he finally speaks again, but you hear his words anyways.

“Aunque tu vuelvas con él, dame otra noche.” There’s a hint of pain in his eyes, unsure of whether any of this actually meant anything to you.

Your heart aches at the allusion that you’d want anyone other than him, and you bring your hand up to his face, gently cupping his cheek, “Miguel, tú sabes que no voy a volver con él, soy tuya, recuerdas? Only yours.”

Relief washes over him as one of his rare smiles graces his face at your words, “Te quiero como a ninguna.” He murmurs as he leans down to place a gentle kiss on your lips. He pulls away, the start of another sentence on the tip of his tongue, but he’s soon interrupted.

With a flicker of yellow light, Lyla appears beside Miguel. “Took you two long enough! Was wondering when you’d finally admit your so very obvious feelings for each other.” She rolled her eyes behind her pink, heart-shaped sunglasses. “You’re welcome, by the way, this wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t snitch about you smooshing booties with Peter.” She adds, beside you now, close to your ear as if trying to whisper. “Lyla!” You swat your hand at her, embarrassed by the thought that she was aware of everything that just happened and mentioning the reason why this all transpired in the first place.

“Alright, alright,” She throws her hands up in mock surrender, “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone, but you owe me for this!” With those final words, she disappears.

Your gaze meets Miguel’s, who just shakes his head in disbelief, rolling his eyes at the fact that Lyla chose such a tender moment to intrude on. You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out, giggling at the absurdity of it, and soon enough, he joins in on the joy you found in the moment.

~~~

Tagging some of my lovely mutuals and ppl who asked to be on my taglist/might be interested <3

@cozykali // @joaquinwhorres // @sunflowersteves // @fanboygarcia // @cowb00t // @mothdruid // @openforjean // @bobfloyds // @buckyytorres // @bvckysmoon // @inklore // @rhettabbotts // @wint3r-h3art // @zstrn // @golden-barnes // @ofstarsandvibranium // @sunmoonandeddie // @bubblebuckys // @ladyelissarose // @thinktankgoldfish // @harmonia-dread // @living-in-a-daydream97 // @eddiesslutwhore // @dilfsfordinner // @tarjapearce // @manyourlookingood​ // @lovers-in-japan-reign-of-love​ // @mraisedto3​ //

[xspeter]

꥟ part of the ‘dancing with our hands tied’ collection. main masterlist.

IN WHICH… Luke Castellan has returned from his quest, but he refuses to see anyone. Too bad you’ve been assigned to watch over him.

W.C: 4.3k

You didn’t like being awoken in the middle of the night. Not by your siblings, not by a nightmare, and definitely not by Chiron.

He’d practically forced you awake, and then started telling you that there was an emergency and you were desperately needed.

Your sleep stricken mind you’d barely been able to process it, blinking a few times as you sat up slowly. Chiron stared at you expectantly, like he expected you to jump out of bed and follow him. If he wanted someone to do that, he should’ve woken up a morning person.

“…What?”

Chiron didn’t repeat himself, instead just leaving the building with a hushed whisper of, “Follow me.”

You swallowed, blinked again, and then did as you were told, slipping on a pair of crocs and wrapping your arms around your chest. The night time summer air was cold, and goosebumps rose on your skin as you followed the centaur.

Chiron didn’t say anything as you walked, well, more like jogged, and it frustrated you. Where was he taking you? What was so important that he had to wake you, and only you, up in the middle of the night?

“Chiron,” You whispered, “What’s going on?”

“Luke’s returned from his quest,” He said as you approached the Big House.

You grinned. You didn’t know Luke all that well, but you knew everyone was excitedly awaiting his return. But, your smile dropped once you noticed the worried knit in Chirons brow. “That’s supposed to be good, isn’t it?”

Chiron sighed as he placed his hand on the front door, an unusual look of worry and maybe even fear in his eyes. “I want you to be prepared when we go in here. Remember, I chose you because I believe you are the most capable in calming him.”

Your mouth went dry as you realized something was very, very wrong. “Calming… who? Luke? Did something happen?”

Chiron doesn’t say anything, instead turning the doorknob and practically forcing you inside. You wish he hadn’t.

The first thing you notice is the sobbing. Pure, unfiltered, scream-crying that makes your heart ache for someone you don’t even know. Then it’s the people, nymphs running around in a panic, random medical supplies and blankets dropping from their arms as they dart around the room.

Then it’s Mr. D. You’ve never seen Dionsysis as anything other than annoyed and irritated. But right now, he looks nervous. Scared. It’s terrifying.

You can’t tell where the sobbing is coming from, it’s so loud it feels like it’s all-consuming. Like it’s coming from every inch of the room.

You turn to Chiron, slight determination in your features, “Where is he?”

Chiron looks almost relieved, like he was expecting you to turn tail and run. Honestly? You wanted to. You weren’t equipped to handle something like this, and you had no idea what was wrong with him anyway!

He gestures towards the stairs, “First room on the left. Grover and some other satyrs are in there with him. I’ll have a nymph bring you the things you’ll need, just try to calm him down for now, alright?” You nod, sucking in a breath as he walks away from you.

There’s not many things to say as you approach the room. You can hear the Satyrs and their hushed whispers of panic and worry, and you can hear the pain in Luke’s screams. The way he cries like he’s been torn limb from limb, and maybe he had been.

You take a deep breath before you peak into the room, but you can’t see Luke. You can see Grover, tears in his eyes as tries wiping something in front of him. You notice the blood that coats his shirt and hands, the deep red cloths that surround him.

A satyr you recognize, Alder, notices you first. And you see the relief that floods his body when he does.

You swallow, and enter the room. Hands clammy as you approach Alder. Your voice wobbles a bit as you speak, “Give me a rundown of what happened.”

Alder is shaking, his breath coming in unevenly. “He- he got back barely even ten minutes ago, and he was sobbing. I couldn’t see his face at first so I didn’t understand but- but-” He sucks in another breath, squeezing his eyes shut. “It’s deep, Y/N.”

You nod. You still don’t understand completely- but you know it must be a cut of sorts which helps relieve you a bit. At least now you have an idea of what you’re dealing with.

From what you knew of Luke’s quest, he had to receive an apple from The Garden of Hesperides. And even though you didn’t know much about this garden, you had an idea of what might have given him the laceration.

You placed a hand on Grovers shoulder, and watched as he turned around to face you. You could see the blood on his shirt much better now, as well as the blood that dripped from his fingertips.

Grover didn’t question you for a moment, but you both winced as Luke let out another wail. Grover must’ve understood why you were there, so he shakily nodded his head and stepped away, letting you finally see Luke fully for the first time.

The sight makes you gasp. Luke’s face is practically covered in blood, all leaking from a jagged cut that runs down his left cheek. His eyes are squeezed shut, body practically flailing as he gasps and groans in pain.

“Okay, okay, okay..” You chant to yourself, hands unsure of where to go or what to do. You didn’t have any of the supplies you needed, not yet anyway, and Luke clearly didn’t even notice you were there. You don’t think he noticed anyone was there.

You squeezed your eyes shut, sucking in your bottom lip as you struggled with what to do. “Luke, can you- can you hear me?” You asked shakily. A stupid question, you knew he couldn’t hear you, you just weren’t sure of what else to say.

Luke didn’t respond, instead, more tears rolled down his face, making the blood run and drip down onto his pillow.

You struggled with what to do, unsure of what you could even do or say to calm him. Honestly, you weren’t sure if there even was anything you could do right now.

You glanced back to the satyrs, and then to Grover, and you felt your stomach drop. He was staring at you expectantly, his own tears leaving dark lines on his tan skin. You knew about his history with Luke, how much he cared for the older boy, and you knew seeing him like this must’ve been terrifying.

So, you did the one thing you could think of.

When you were younger, every time you cried your mother sang you a song. It was silly, and it didn’t really hold any value to Luke as far as you could tell, but it was the only thing you could think to do.

“Here comes the sun and I say, ‘It’s alright, Little Darling..’” You started hesitantly, voice quiet as you leaned down to luke, your fingers tracing his jawline.

He didn’t say anything, in fact he didn’t even react, instead continuing to writhe and scream in pain and fear. Still, you continued.

“The smiles returning to the faces, Little Darling..”

The satyrs all just stared at you in what you assumed was confusion. You didn’t blame them- you were unsure of what you were doing yourself.

“It seems like years since it’s been here, here comes the sun..”

Sometimes, if you were in an exceptionally good mood, you’d sing this song during the campfire. Apollo kids always sang during it, but you weren’t one to enjoy that with them. That’s why you think Luke recognizes it.

Slowly, his breathing evens, and his splintering sobs turn to quiet whimpers. His body relaxes, practically going still as his eyes return to their natural shut state.

You smile, cupping his uninjured cheek with your hand, ignoring the blood that soaks into your skin. “Here comes the sun and I say, ‘It’s alright’..”

☀︎

It’s five days before Luke wakes up.

You come in every morning and every night, checking on him and cleaning him up. Changing his bandages, shifting him around so he doesn’t develop sores from laying in the same position. Sometimes you go in just to keep him company.

But, still, you nearly jump out of your skin when you enter the room and find Luke sitting up, staring out the window with an obvious knit in his brows.

He turns to you once he hears the door click shut, but neither of you say anything. You feel small under his burning gaze, but still, you swallow and approach him.

You turn to the bedside table, where you’ve been keeping the fresh bandages, and silently get to work.

Luke doesn’t say anything as you gently turn his head towards you, and he doesn’t say anything as you peel back the bloody bandage that covers his left eye. It makes you nervous.

But, you know Luke has been through something traumatizing. Something you’ll probably never understand, so you don’t say anything either. If he wants to talk, you’ll let him go first.

The next three days pass by just the same. Every morning and every night, you change his bandages, check his vitals, make sure he eats, and leave. All without saying a single word.

You want to ask him what happened, if he remembers anything, if he remembers that you were there that night. Does he even remember that night? Does he even know your name?

But you don’t ask. And on that fourth day, Luke finally says something to you.

You're changing his bandage again, and make a pleased hum in the back of your throat when you notice it’s completely clean.

Luke, who usually looks anywhere but at you when you’re doing this, locks his gaze with yours. He swallows, leaning back onto his hands, “Is it better?” He asks.

You're stunned for a moment, but quickly pull yourself together. His voice is rough and raspy from what you assume is not talking for literal days, but it’s still got a soft kindness too it you’re not sure you’ve ever heard from anyone else.

“Um, yeah. There’s not any blood soaking through it anymore which is a really good thing. I mean, I was starting to get a little worried with all the bleeding but you seem to be healing up nicely.” You fiddle with your fingers a bit nervously, looking at anything but Luke.

Luke doesn’t say anything for a moment, turning his head and staring out the window. You take his indifference as a sign to leave, so you take your things and walk towards the door.

Just as you are about to close it, there’s a voice.

“Wait,”

It’s soft, and if you hadn’t been listening you probably wouldn’t have noticed it. But you do as told, turning around and making contact with the curly haired boy.

He looks to be struggling with what to say, as if he’s unsure of how to get the words out. Your hand grips the doorknob uncomfortably, eyes wide as you look expectantly at Luke.

Finally, he releases a breath and relaxes his shoulders. He looks back towards the window, and murmurs, “Thank you.”

It’s the last thing you were expecting to hear from the demi-god, but still, you practically glow once it falls from his lips.

“Of course.” You say, quietly waiting to see if he’ll say anything else. You don’t let it disappoint you much when he doesn’t, baby steps and all that, but still, for the first time in a week, you leave that room with a smile.

☀︎

The first thing you notice when you enter The Big House is yelling. Lots of it.

You’re confused, because Mr. D is standing right next to you and you’re not sure Chiron has ever raised his voice a day in his life. And then it registers. Luke.

“He’s been going at it all day.” Mr. D says, that familiar annoyance in his tone. “Get him to stop, would you?”

Your lips part as you stare up at him in shock. “Me?”

Dionysus shrugs, taking a gulp of his Coke. “You did it the last time he was raising hell! Just do whatever you did then.”

This was a completely different situation then last time! Then, Luke was barely even conscious. He couldn’t register what was going on around him, and he was screaming in pain. Not anger!

You shook your head, stumbling over your words a bit as Mr. D grabbed you by the wrist and began dragging you upstairs. “I can’t! This is completely different and has nothing to do with me! And I can’t do what I did last time- It’d be weird now!”

But, you don’t have any more time to argue, because Mr. D barges into Luke’s room without a second thought, pushing you inside and slamming the door.

Chiron and Luke both go silent, both turning to face you. Chiron looks confused, a silent question on his face. While Luke.. doesn’t look like anything. The knit in his brows relaxes, and the obvious frown that was on his face disappears. He looks as if nothing happened.

“I’m sorry,” You huff, wincing a bit as you reach for the doorknob to exit, “Mr. D kinda forced me in here, Not sure what he thought I could do…” You mumble the last part, clearly very annoyed. “But I’ll uh, i’ll just leave you guys to.. continue.” You gesture to the two of them with a fake smile on your face, struggling to open the door. Mr. D must’ve locked it, that old bastard.

Chiron shakes his head, giving you a small smile. You can tell he’s exhausted though, his eyes say it. “No, please, stay. I’ll go.” He shoots a look to Luke, who’s frown has returned onto his pink lips. “We’ll continue this conversation later.”

Luke doesn’t say anything, and Chiron opens the door so easily you almost feel embarrassed.

There’s silence as you approach him, deafening, sickening silence, and you itch to ask why he was yelling. What made him so angry?

You suck in your bottom lip and risk a glance at Luke. He’s staring out the window still, and you wonder what he thinks when he looks out there. Does he miss everyone? Does he want to go back and finish his quest?

“Um,” You release a breath, shrugging your shoulders in an attempt to seem completely indifferent. You sit on the stool next to Luke’s bed and begin to get to work, “Not to be.. nosy or anything like that, but, what was that about?”

Your hands are gentle as you softly position his head so you can get the best angle, softly peeling the bandages away and checking in on his progress. The cut has healed nicely, and it’s no longer blaring red and raw. Instead, it’s a nice pinkish color, and you can tell that scar tissue is beginning to form.

Luke doesn’t say anything for a moment, and you begin to worry that you crossed a line. “You don’t have to answer that-”

“Chiron wants to tell everyone that I’m back from my quest.”

Your blink a couple times, but smile a bit that he felt comfortable enough to answer you. You hadn’t registered that his return had been a secret until now, but you can understand why he’d want it to stay that way.

He was supposed to be this great swordsman, someone all of camp looked up to and depended on. You assumed that’s how he saw the quest, something else the rest of camp would be proud of him for.

So, when he failed? Probably not the best for his pride.

“I understand why you wouldn’t want to tell. But.. they’ll all find out eventually. Wouldn’t you rather rip the band-aid off now instead of waiting?” You ask, voice a little hesitant. You don’t want to scare him off, or make him feel like he’s being attacked.

He huffs, gnawing on his lower lip as you gently replace his bandages. “What would the difference be? Disappoint everyone now, or disappoint everyone later. How fun.”

There’s a bitterness in his voice that you hadn’t expected, but you understand it. “They aren’t going to be disappointed, Luke. They’re worried for you. I see them, you know? They sit and watch the hill, waiting for you. And I don’t want to… push you, or anything, but I think maybe it’s time you let them help you.”

Luke’s lips thin, and he goes back to staring out the window. You finish your work silently and stand to leave, but a hand on your wrist stops you.

You look down surprised, finding his fingers barely locked around your wrist to stop you. He looks up, making soft eye contact with you, almost as if he were begging you not to go. You listen.

You sit back down, and Luke releases you without saying a word. It’s this moment when you can finally take the time to really admire him, not the things that leave him scarred.

His hair is a deep brown. Not quite black, but still so dark it could be mistaken for charcoal. The sunlight from the window streams onto it, making it glow a soft mocha color. His eyes match, but they're more honey-colored than anything.

Freckles dot his skin like stars, aligning to form different constellations. You resist the urge to trace them. But his lips.. they're so soft, so pink. So.. unique. You want to trace them, too.

Luke sniffles, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not… not that I don’t want to. It’s more like I can’t. How am I supposed to tell them I failed when they expected so much more of me? If I tell them that.. that I’m not as amazing as they think I am, then who do I become?”

You smile gently, eyes crinkling in the corners. You risk interlocking your fingers with his, fully expecting him to pull away, but he doesn’t. His breath hitches in his throat for a moment and you can tell he’s hesitant, but, he returns your gesture, holding your hand with a softness you hadn't expected.

“You become human.”

☀︎

News of Luke’s return spreads around the camp like wildfire. Everyone is excited, happy that he returned at all, but they are also confused. If Luke had returned, where was he? And why had no one seen him?

You honestly couldn’t help the swell of pride in your chest the next morning when you’d gone to check on Luke and he’d told you he was having Chiron tell camp. Some selfish part of you wanted to believe it was because of what you’d told him, but you knew realistically it was something Chiron had said.

You chew on your nails as your siblings talk in hushed whispers at your table. All of them talking about where the hell the hero could be and why he hadn’t been seen. Some say Chiron is just waiting until Luke is cleared of any injuries he may have gotten, others get more extreme and say he hadn't really returned at all and Chiron was just waiting to tell everyone he had died.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything, would you, Y/N? You’ve been acting pretty secretive lately..”

Your head whips to your brother, Lee, as he eyes you suspiciously. You stammer on your words, eyes gluing to the space around him as you struggle to come up with the words. You’d never been good at lying.

“No! How would I even know anything? I know as much as you, and also, I'm sure Luke’s okay wherever he’s at so you guys should stop worrying and stop talking about it.”

Lee gasps, eyes going wide as he points an accusing finger at you. “You do know something!”

“No I don’t!”

Your sister, Marcia, snorts and rolls her eyes. “You totally do.”

You stutter for a second, racking your brain for an excuse. “I’m- your- whatever! I have to go!” You stand abruptly, walking away and ignoring the way Lee groans and pleads with you to tell him.

You find yourself in the strawberry field, just as you always do when you feel conflicted, and pick so many red berries that your basket feels as if it weighs more than a super fat cat.

You huff as you drag them to The Big House, your arm slightly aching. Look, you weren’t one to… physically exert yourself. You’d stick to nursing people back to health, thank you.

Luke watches you curiously as you plop the strawberries onto the bedside table, slightly panting as you do. You rub at your forearms, doing your best to smooth the ache there. “I figured Chiron wasn’t bringing you any of these, and I remembered someone told me that you really liked them. So…”

You winced a bit, mentally cursing yourself for mentioning that last part.

But Luke doesn’t mention it, instead he just stares up at you, and you watch as his lips quirk up into a small, genuine smile. “Thank you.”

There’s a swell of pride in your chest, one that you allow yourself to be selfish about, because Luke Castellan is smiling and it’s just about the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Don’t mention it.”

You both chat aimlessly as you patch him up and you even stay to talk with him way after you finish. In the two weeks Luke has been holed up in this room, you can tell the effect it’s having on him mentally and physically.

He’s lost most of the tan that used to kiss his skin, and instead is an uncharacteristic pale color. His muscles have become less defined (not that you were paying attention to that), and he just seems more bored than anything now. You don’t blame him, having to have his only conversations revolve with the same four people. Chiron, Mr. D. Grover, and you.

“No, come on, there's no way you purposely skip out on capture the flag!”

You shrug nonchalantly, playing with the ends of your hair as you lean back onto the backrest of the stool. “I just don’t see the point. And, besides, I enjoy helping everyone with their injuries. It’s usually only the younger kids who come in with little scrapes and cuts, so it’s super easy and they always give me these adorable little smiles.”

Luke listens intently to your reason, and he finds it almost endearing how you ramble, a soft smile on your face as you think of the kids. “I understand that then, I guess. I love those troublemakers too. Sometimes.”

You snort, glancing up from the hair you were tangling and towards him. His eyes are soft, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the headboard. “Only sometimes?”

He shrugs, “Yeah, only when they’re not causing some kind of trouble. Which is pretty much always..”

You silently agree with him on that, nodding your head. You want to ask him when he plans to leave this room, you’d cleared him two days ago, but decide against it. Luke would leave when he was ready, but maybe he just needed a push in the right direction, just like last time.

“I heard Connor talking about you today.”

Luke sits up a bit in interest, scratching his forearm. “Really? What’d he say?”

You suck in a breath, wetting your lips nervously. “He said he missed you. And that he was worried about you.”

The smile on Luke’s lips falls, and is replaced with his usual nonchalance. His body deflates, and he turns his attention to the sheets in front of him. “Oh.”

You nod, “I think everyone misses you. And they all kinda just wait to hear any news about you they can get. It’s kind of sad, honestly. And, to be perfectly clear, I am an absolute horrible liar and my siblings are starting to catch onto my daily visits here. I fear if you don’t make an appearance soon they might follow me.”

Luke snorts at that, but he doesn’t smile. You want to pry open his mind and understand just what he’s thinking. “I want to. I’m just.. I'm scared of them. Of how they’ll look at me.”

You shake your head, “Luke, they love you. Like, seriously love you. You’ve gotta stop getting in your head about this, let them show you how they’ll look at you. Not your head.”

Luke sighs, letting his eyes fall shut as he processes. You think that deep down he knows your right, he just needs to set his fear to the side. And you definitely understand how hard that can be.

You stand, walking over to the door quietly. You open it, but pause before you leave and look back at him. “Let them love you, Luke.”

You're not surprised when the next morning, Luke isn’t in his usual spot. You’re especially not surprised once you hear the cheers that come from the lunch area.

You peek around the corner with a smile, happily watching as practically everyone in camp surrounds Luke.

None of them even seem to care about the new jagged scar that covers his left eye, or the way he seems like a completely different boy from the one who left all that time ago.

“What happened on your quest? Did you complete it?” Someone, you can’t make out who, asks. You hold your breath as Luke hears it, his smile faltering slightly.

“I, uh,” He stammers, looking uneasy. You curse and step out of your hiding place, doing your best to put yourself in Luke’s line of sight.

He spots you almost instantly, and you watch as relief floods his entire body. You give him an encouraging thumbs up and a large smile.

He returns the smile, and looks back to the camper who asked. “I didn’t get the apple, but, I did get this super cool scar-”

You watch as Luke makes eye contact with you again, and he doesn’t have to speak for you to know what hes saying.

Thank you.

[jennifer-jeong]

Guess who😊

As a reference to what you posted earlier, imagine that after the reader dies of old age, Xiao and Scaramouche encounter a reincarnation of themselves? It's your choice to make them mortal or not (I'm under your bed. If you make them mortal I will kick your feet at night.)

Take your time dear <3

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG FJDKSLA;FJDSA; life has been kicking my ASS but fuck it we ball HELLO MY MUTUAL THANK YOU FOR YOUR REQUEST, I’ve honestly been thinking hard because I want to also request some ideas because your writing is so sweet ehehehe OK PLEASE DON’T KICK MY FEET AT NIGHT THAT’S HORRIFYING - I WILL MAKE THE REINCARNATION IMMORTAL

ALSO @iota1111 these are my ideas for that Xiao and Wanderer angst! If you read only to the *** in each fic, that would be where I’d end the story if it wasn’t meant to be a happy ending! (I would suffer!!!!)

Fluff + Angst | Xiao/Wanderer x GN!Reader Reincarnation

CONTENT Angst to fluff, happy ending, reader death, mentions of death, mentions of fighting/them taking their anger out on things

XIAO

When you passed away, Xiao was absolutely heartbroken. He knew it was coming, he prepared for it, he stayed by your side through your deteriorating health in your last few months. But no matter what, he knew it would destroy him, and it did.

No one saw Xiao for weeks after but everyone noticed that Liyue was safer than ever. Xiao engrossed himself in his work. Taking out his emotions onto the monsters in Liyue. He worked himself to exhaustion every single day. Zhongli still came to check up on him but knew Xiao just needed time.

He didn’t know what to do with himself. What was he supposed to do? You were gone. HIs sunshine, his muse, his… everything.

Xiao collapsed after giving himself no rest for who knows how many nights. Laying in the grass, he stared up at the moon. Asking himself what he could’ve done differently and if he could’ve "selfishly" extended your life. If he could’ve made you immortal like him.

He listened to the bugs chirp around him, the breeze drying the tears he didn’t know were falling. For the first time in a long time, he cried. He sobbed and bit back the urge to lash out at everything in the vicinity. He was on his side, clutching his aching heart, crying into the soft grass he used to lay on with you.

He had gone through so much pain in his life: his karmic debt, the abuse from his old master, losing his found family, and all the years of deafening solitude.

But nothing would ever hurt more than losing you.

Xiao cried his heart out and knocked out from the exhaustion and pain. He slept peacefully for the first time since you passed. *** Xiao woke up the next morning with a start. Confused and disoriented not because of where he had fallen asleep, but because he sensed something insane.

He sensed you.

It was your soul, the one he swore himself to. There was no denying it. Was this a sick joke? Was some old evil spirit messing with him?

It had been months since your passing but there was no denying it. It was you.

Unfortunately, years would pass while Xiao searched for you. He was obsessed over it at first but once he could tell that your soul was safe and alive, he relaxed just a little. He still wanted to see you again, hold you, and whisper how much he loved you, but he knew you’d find each other eventually. He made himself a silent promise that he’d find you no matter what. He didn’t really have much else to do for all of eternity anyways.

Xiao confided in Zhongli through these years, the elder god revealing the possibility of reincarnation, revealing that it’s not uncommon. Souls return to the Earth in many forms but he hints to Xiao that he believes what he’s sensing is indeed you in human form.

Eventually, Xiao would be on a typical nightly patrol, sensing your soul nearby as always. But it was a bit different today. It was stronger.

As if right on cue, Xiao entered a clearing and despite it being nighttime, he saw the sun.

His beautiful sun had somehow risen again against all odds. You didn’t know his name but you knew his soul.

He recognized the sigil on your clothing, it belonged to an adeptus master he hadn’t seen in decades. The draconic horns on your head told him you were reborn in a different body, an immortal body. One that had you trained as an adepti for these past years, likely hidden away in a domain. It clicked in his head. It’s why he could always sense you, but never quite find where you were.

You turned around after feeling his approach. He wondered if you could feel his soul the way he felt yours. If you longed for him even in your new existence. He had so much to ask. But you pulled him out of his noisy thoughts.

Your voice brought him serenity he had long forgotten.

His heart pounded as you spoke.

“I missed you, my love.”

Instantly you were in each other's arms.

“I missed you too,” he says as his voice cracks.

WANDERER

He was angry, reverting back to how he was before Nahida, the traveler, and you helped him. He blamed the gods, the world, for his sorrows, for his pain. He sought to destroy it all again for somehow making his suffering worse. He had felt pain similar to this. It was all too familiar for him. The constant cycle of loss, betrayal, and agony. But this time, he was on the brink of insanity.

You, his perfect flower, had finally wilted.

He’s stuck bargaining for months, reverting between stages of grief: anger and bargaining. Never able to move on past that.

He continues on his missions for Nahida because he knows it’s what you've wanted but also because he didn’t know what else to do with himself. Any of his combat missions turned into tortures and near assassinations. He used it as a tool to cool himself off, much to the silent disapproval of Nahida. But she knew he’d never disobey your wishes, your morals. You taught him better than to kill out of emotion.

Wanderer commonly visits the forests where you two used to adventure to find some sort of peace and familiarity. He tends to avoid the Aranara despite the fact that they know about your passing and would probably be able to comfort him about it. He just didn’t think he could handle it.

Seasons pass and on one of his trips into the sunny lush forests, growing again due to the spring season, Aranara bring him your favourite flowers when they bloom again the next year. They loved you dearly too, you treated them and the forest with such gentleness that they could never forget you. They didn’t know how to approach him earlier so they used this opportunity instead.

His heart ached and his anemo vision surged with energy when he saw the flower. He finally reached his breaking point, he fell to his knees on the grass and sobbed, clutching the flower to his chest. Letting go of all the stupid anger and bargaining. Who was he kidding, he just didn’t want to accept that he’d have to keep going without you. *** The Aranara tell him not to worry though, comforting and telling him it will be okay. At first he’s confused as to what they mean but Nahida walks out into the sunlit clearing, the sun about to start setting.

She tells him she knows it hurts but that the Irminsul has a message for him and it says that he should not fret and continue to live on and explore the forest. His tear stained face raised an eyebrow but it slowly turned to determination, he knew Irminsul would not lie.

It would take years but he slowly started to feel you nearby. He’d dream of you. The forest felt like you and he could feel your energy in the flora. He confided in Nahida and their bond only grew stronger, he’d also reach out to the Aranara when he’d adventure out of the city.

Eventually, the Aranara prepared and held a ceremony, sensing the birthing of something new, a nature spirit. Nahida described it using the term “nymph.”

Wanderer was silent as he put the pieces together. He held his breath as he realized it might be you. Your reincarnation.

He always saw you as his flower, but he didn’t think you’d become a nature spirit, he was not complaining about it in the slightest though.

Nahida explained that you would exist in the physical realm but had strong ties to the dream realm, you’d be immortal like Aranara are but you’d still be able to live with him in the physical.

As you manifested and blinked open your eyes, you immediately looked at him.

His hands were shaking, unsure if he was scared, happy, both? Was it really you? Had the world finally decided to grant him happiness instead of sorrow? Was this a gift?

But as you took gentle steps towards him, he realized something important:

It didn’t matter.

You were here again, in front of him. Nothing else mattered.

You reached out to hold his face with your hands. You knew him, you knew your soul belonged to him and his to you.

He drew in closer to you, holding your face and touching your foreheads together, tears threatening to fall.

Your beautiful voice spoke to him again in what felt like an eternity. He had almost forgotten what you sounded like.

“Don’t cry my love, I’m here.”

His eyebrows scrunched as his tears fell. He wraps his arms around you tight, never wanting to let go, scared you’d leave him again.

“I missed you so much,” he whispered shakily, scared that his voice would fail if he tried to speak.

“I missed you too. I’m here to stay.”

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||

[cloudysarts]

Hi there!!

I want to say that your “Mabel’s muse” Au concept has absolutely called my attention, Bill mentions multiple times (Dipper and Mabel’s guide to mystery and fun and TBOB) how he likes Mabel’s personality and wanted her to be his ally…sooo the idea of an alternative time where he decided to approach her and where she trusts him and considers him as her friend is absolutely full of potential

I just think about how many stuff would change and how bill would be a little more genuine with her as he for once isn’t pretending to be an all-wise being and having to constantly rise the ego of Genius minds…instead he just has to party with a teenager whose idea of fun is quite similar to his…he doesn’t have to be the “supreme being” for once just a silly fella in order to earn Mabel’s trust

Also about how some episodes would have to take a completely different route:

maybe “Mindscapers” wouldn’t even take place…because I doubt that Mabel would trust a Bill if he went inside Stan’s head

Bill possessing her during the “sock opera”episode instead of dipper

Also don’t get me started on “the last Mabelcorn” episode. All the angst and horror that Ford would feel when he finds out about the whole friendship with bill situation reflecting himself on Mabel and probably Dipper being the one who search for the unicorn hair while ford tries to convince her that Bill isn’t trustworthy

I apologize for my rant but I seriously love your idea and sorry if it’s a bit confusing English isn’t my first language

I hope you have a nice day and thank you for reading this silly thing!!

first of all, your english is great!! second of all, i am SO sorry it took me so long to respond to this ask, it just made me so happy that i wanted to take my time to craft a response!!!!!! :DDDD (context: for people who don't know what my 'mabels muse' au is, you can check it out over here!)

you are practically SPOT ON with my ideas for this au!!!!!! but i'm gonna briefly run through all the things you brought up!!

first of all, yes, absolutely!!!! for bill, partner-ing up with mabel was a very nice change of pace. he likes stroking the ego's of genius', just for his own amusement, but he doesnt get the THRILL of just getting to PLAY very often!! he's a very childish being, at the end of the day. he enables mabel's selfishness, while getting to indulge his own, silly passions right alongside her!! and obviously, mabel LOVES being enabled <3 i imagine most of the dreams he gives her would make any normal persons eyes bleed

as for your episode ideas, you're mostly right!!! :) mindscaperers does, in fact, NOT happen in this au. in my head, i imagine gideon trying to summon him, only for an 'I.O.U' to appear where bill should be. he's busy hanging out with his favorite pre-teen!!! so gideon skips straight to his backup plan, aka, gideon rises ^^

for sock opera, i'm still on the fence a little bit. one of the reasons bill is hanging out with her at all in this au is because, unlike in the regular timeline, this bill actively wants stanford to be brought home. the reason mabel is important to him, is because he can see timelines where she presses the button in not what he seems, and keeps him from returning. in his mind, he has the greatest shot of success if mabel doesn't press it. in this au, she doesnt even hesitate to trust stan, because she has another, trustworthy voice in her head, yelling DON'T PRESS THE BUTTON. its 2v1! ANYWAY, the reason any of that matters for sock opera, is because he wouldnt have any need to possess anyone, because he has no interest in smashing the laptop! BUT.....i can see him doing it anyway. i figure, most likely, he gets mabel to (willingly) let him use her body, so that she can work on her sock opera while her body sleeps. i just imagine a bill-possessed mabel up at 3 am, covered in hot glue and googly eyes as he tries to work it out shjdkfhjsdkf. but......honestly, he probably destroys the laptop in the process :) just to fuck with dipper <3 not that dipper ever finds out its her. he has no idea that mabel was ever possessed/has no reason to suspect her, because at this point, he still doesnt think bill is real. that is....until the last mabelcorn.

IN the last mabelcorn, mabel reveals to ford that she does recognize bill, and that he lives in her brain! she says it really excitedly, at the table, while dipper kind of just rolls his eyes about it. to her, its vindicating, because it's the first time anyone has ever acknowledged bills existence. but to ford, its HORRIFYING, because he knows it isn't just a coincidence. he knows he has to do something, but he doesn't know what, right away. this is where our ideas differ a little bit, because i think that mabel still WOULD be the one retrieving the unicorn hair! ford just didnt tell her what the hair was for. ford sends her off, because he wants to brainstorm a way to get him out of her head, preferably without hurting her/her memories. he also plans to bill-proof dippers mind in the process, just in case mabel is too far gone already. the events here happen basically the same (with minor tweaks), but instead of dipper suspecting that ford is evil/bill-possessed, this is where he finally learns that bill is real at all. ford tells him about his backstory, and explains the REAL reason he sent mabel out to get the unicorn hair, etc etc. he loves mabel a lot, but hes not sure how to go about dealing with this situation yet. its not HER fault she trusted bill, but he knew that if he just tries to tell her hes evil, she wont believe him. shes known 'her muse' longer, and as of right now, he's never lead her wrong. just like what happened to him in the past...

i wonder how mabel would feel if she only heard the end of that conversation...

(more of this au here and here!)

[trender-official]

do you have any general ideas for what a yandere jayce talis x reader would be like

i have MANY thoughts about this. first of all i don’t think jayce would ever know he’s yandere. and i don’t think you’d recognize it at first either!! i think he’d be very protective after the attack on the council but not so much before hand. i think he’d be very trusting of you, honestly. i don’t think he’d ever be scared of you leaving more so of you being TAKEN. i’ll give some specifics bellow the cut

let’s start off with you and him in a viktor type scenario

you’re lab partners

i think this is where he would trust you the most

he knows you’re not scheming or anything like that

he genuinely believes you would never turn your back on him

(which means if you do it gets… bad. only time he’d get violent)

you’d likely be spending most of your time together early on(pre councilor jayce)

so he doesn’t feel the need to worry!

but after…

oh boy.

he would station guards outside your lab… just in case

one with you when you go to lunch too

ESPECIALLY if you’re publicly together

he would definitely not let you go anywhere by yourself

he would usually listen to you on matters, except when it came to hextech in weapons

he wouldn’t give a fuck lol

he’d have too much at stake

he’d definitely use his status on the council to manipulate you (not that he knows that’s what he’s doing)

he’d tell you “it would be so easy for people to target you without enforcers there! they’d do anything to get to me”

and you honestly can’t argue

which is what starts to sow anger in you

because your so used to being able to argue with him and that being your means of communication

but he’d just have so much power over you

you wouldn’t be equals anymore (not that he’d see that)

now if you were in mel’s position

i think he’d be a lot more protective and a lot less trusting

he’d definitely feel intimidated by your power and work to undermine that a lot

this is the only time i can imagine him using his physical strength to overpower you

it makes him feel better about himself

he’d probably try to force you to retire

especially after the attack

not because he thinks your incompetent!

but because he’s scared for you

he doesn’t even think HE should be a councilor after that LOL

he would probably try to bribe your guards for info on what you’re doing

just to keep tabs

he’d probably try to distract you from arguments with affection too

because he doesn’t like to argue with you anymore

he doesn’t want to be forced to see that you’re equals

even though he’d never admit if you weren’t

he’d probably want to take the relationship more public

so he could guilt you with it

because it would make you look bad if you broke up!!

very centered on looks in this scenario

he’d def dress you up a lot

very gilded cage core

would want to be married super quick

and have kids(if ur able ofc)

you have to continue great minds!!

anyway i think this one is worse

to say the least

either way, jayce is honestly not the worst yandere to end up with!! he’s probably the best in arcane at least.

[ohsohoney]

When it comes to love you're just as blinded.

Part One

Eminem x Musician

Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.

Note: Hey! First time writing for Em so I figured I'd use a side account and see how it went? Honestly this is a whole series in my mind so might add onto this first part soon! An oc character but can be read as a reader insert if you prefer:)

Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2

Warnings: Lots of swearing, dark humour

Masterlist

I was mortified.

More so than I’d probably ever been, in truth. All because of a stupid video that had been taken a couple of years back when I’d had one drink too many on a holiday I’d always dreamt of.

To be fair though, the majority of the blame lied heavily on my younger sister’s shoulders, who’d found the stupid thing whilst reminiscing through old memories and thought it would be hilarious to post online. Forgetting about the millions of fans who would soon see it– and not just mine, it would seem.

No, because that just wasn’t how the internet worked, was it? And when a newly nominated artist, who had only been in the game for a couple years, was filmed rapping an old noughties classic instead of singing like expected, it was basically bound to go viral. Didn’t help that I was a Londoner through and through and had the accent to prove it, making the whole video that much harder to watch. In truth, I continued to cringe each time I was reminded of it, which was practically anytime I opened up social media or witnessed the guilty expression that continued to mar my sister’s face.

“Stop doing that.” I huffed at her later on when the worst of it still continued to storm on, almost whining actually as I looked away from my phone screen and down at the food I wasn’t really eating, just picking at. I was supposed to be mad, infuriated even, but it was proving to be a fucking chore when she kept on looking at me like that.

“Doing what?” Lottie retorted, not even attempting to wipe the culpable look from off of her face. She was currently residing back at mum’s now, seeing as how she had school and I’d only just landed back home, but I’d give it a day before she was back here again. My flight over had been strenuous, it always was when flying to and from Cali, but still I made time for her– even after the most recent stunt she had gone and pulled.

“Don’t do that either.” 

I’d meant to sound scolding but the soft laugh that escaped me truly was accidental. I couldn’t quite help it, I knew that being mad at her wouldn’t solve anything now and that she hadn’t really meant any harm by posting the video. That was just the type of person she was, she acted before she thought things through and didn’t ever think much for the consequences. Then again, she was still only fourteen and her putting the drunken moment on her Instagram story had just been one of those sibling type moments, the kind where you’d rip the piss out of one another simply because you could.

“I mean it, Lotts.” I sighed around the words, eyes flitting back to the screen and the way she was chewing on her lower lip. “It’s being sorted and, I don't know, I guess it’ll die down sooner or later. Mila reckons so anyway. We’ll give it a day or two, hey?”

A day or two did pass. And no such thing happened.

I’d been cooped up at home ever since I’d touched down at Heathrow, having jumped in the first cab available and fallen asleep the second I’d gotten in through the door. I’d been working out in LA for a couple weeks with a few other writers, just messing about with new sounds and ideas for the next album I eventually wanted to release. So I hadn’t been witness to the media catastrophe Lottie had created until later the next afternoon when Mila, my manager, had all but mowed down my front door, having called my phone three dozen times and gotten a guy she was currently seeing in the city to come buzz my intercom. It had been a wake up call and a half to say the least.

Still, she had assumed it would all die down fairly quickly, went as far to say that it could do wonders for my career– even with me being visibly tipsy– after having had the absolute gall to say that I hadn’t sounded half as bad as I thought I did. I’d cackled hysterically into the phone at that, then had somewhat of a meltdown, in utter disbelief over the apparent reaction she claimed the video had gone and garnered. Because I was absolutely not looking. Knew that if I did there would be too large a chance that I’d check myself into the nearest psychiatric unit. 

But as I said, a couple of days had passed and typically something like this would have eventually blown over when the next big story hit the headlines. White girl can spit a verse, who cared? Only then the VMA’s had happened and shit hit the fucking fan.

I hadn’t attended, shit like that had always irked me. I could perform in front of a crowd of thousands and step off feeling as high as a kite, but stick me on a carpet and force me to interact with cameras, questions, and people? That was where I drew the line.

At the start, I had tried. I’d been new on the scene and people had reasoned that I would just end up being another one hit wonder, so the label had figured it best if I got myself out there, if only to interact with other artists and producers in similar circles.

It had gone down a treat– like a cake being knocked over at the wedding of the year. Maybe even worse. I didn’t like to linger too long on it.

But I’d tried again and again afterwards, although it had only proven to worsen my mood each time and forced me to retreat, avoiding my team and the responsibilities I had lined up for a short while after. It was only following a particularly uncomfortable night that Mila had called it quits and had a contract drawn up stating that I only had to attend a certain amount of events a year. It had been at that moment that I’d realised just how fucked I would have been in this industry without her.

Even so, life still continued on without me and the VMA’s were just another show I would be mostly avoiding, only making a statement at the end of the night online for the nominations I’d been gifted.

It was around midnight when I heard the scream.

Lottie was staying with me, typical for whenever I was back in London for a few weeks at a time, and so I’d felt my heart literally drop to my feet at the very sound of her screech and legged it across the entirety of the house. At first, I’d thought she’d slipped and fallen, maybe cracked her head open on a counter. And then the thought of an intruder had crossed my mind whilst I’d gone skidding over the landing. So anyone could understand why I was so worked up when I finally threw open her bedroom door only to find her simply sat there on her phone, hand covering her mouth.

“What the hell is your problem? It’s just gone twelve, Lottie! I thought something had happened!” I rebuked her, chest heaving as I dropped the heavy bookend I’d managed to pick up somewhere on my way over down onto her desk. “Shit.”

Her eyes were wider than I’d ever seen them though when I finally did get around to catching my breath and chanced another glance back at her.

“I was literally just about to fall asleep.” Which really meant that I’d been getting into bed to scroll through my phone or read a book when I’d heard her shout. “Then you screamed as though Freddy Krueger was stood at your window.”

“Elia.” 

I blinked, Lottie rarely did that, used my entire name and not the usual shortened version or whatever other epithet that came to mind– and truly, there was a large variety, the shit I’d heard this kid come out with was insane. But I shook my head at the thought and quirked a brow at her. “What? Did someone die?”

“No,” She answered me, dropping her hand away from her face even though her jaw was still gaping, “But I just might.”

Rolling my eyes at the theatrics, I exhaled and walked over to slump on the end of her bed, figuring that something had happened between her and one of her friends, or maybe some lad she might’ve been speaking to. “And it deserved a scream like that? Honestly Lotts, just be thankful this place doesn’t have any neighbours listening in through the walls.” I told her, thinking back to my own adolescent years and the woman in the flat beside ours, “We’d have someone knocking at the door in under a half hour.”

It was her turn to roll her eyes then as she scoffed at me– like I was the one being dramatic here– before she then shook her head and shuffled hurriedly over the mattress to sit closer. “No Lia, just listen, look.”

Confused, I sighed and tilted my head when Lottie moved to shove her mobile in my face. I squinted at the sudden contrast, showing off my age and the horrific tragedy that was my eyesight, and tried to make sense of whatever it was that she was so hellbent on showing me. 

From what I could first make out, it was just a Twitter thread, but then Lotts then clicked on the main video at the top. I waited as the clip buffered for a second, then a familiar face panned into focus and I felt my brow furrow. I peered over at Lottie for a split second before her eyes were widening in retort and she gestured her chin back towards the screen.

I narrowed my own eyes in turn, but watched on.

It had to be a coincidence, I reasoned. That of all people it was him that Lottie was currently showing me.

“Well, aren’t we in for a show tonight! Eminem is in the house, people!” An interviewer started, she was a tall, leggy blonde who held a too big microphone too close to her chin. “How are you feeling?”

I shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was to see him on the VMA’s carpet, not after the comeback he’d made late last year with LP 2, but I was, eyes caught on the bleached buzz cut he’d since reverted back to for the album’s release. Fuck, I’d be so pissed if it came out that he was performing tonight and I’d gone ahead and missed it.

Lottie thumped my shoulder, hard, realising fairly quickly that I hadn’t really been listening, and so I scowled in retort but gritted my teeth to keep from thumping her right back. She might’ve been my sister, but I had well over a decade on the kid and was marginally her guardian, just not in writing.

The rapper had seemingly just finished commenting on a question the tall blonde had asked him and so I forced myself to pay closer attention, brain whirling as I wondered what could have possibly been so important that it had Lottie screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night.

“I feel that!” The woman practically beamed at the rapper, head nodding along to whatever he’d just said, “But it’s good to hear that you’re enjoying being back. In truth, I wasn’t sure I’d catch you here tonight, there’s been a lot of buzz surrounding you at the moment and not just because of the album!”

My heart stuttered in my chest. Actually, I was pretty sure it had gone and fallen out of my arse, especially when the interviewer continued to press on the topic and it appeared as though the man in question understood exactly what she was getting at. His stoic facade cracked just a tad and– there! A smirk. An ever so slight crook of his mouth. I shot a startled glance over at Lottie but her gaze was fixated on the screen.

“I mean, have you seen it?” The interviewer prompted whilst he simply stood there, fisted hands clasped before him. No sign of the split second curve he’d just had on his lips. “The whole world’s been wondering about your thoughts on the singer!”

And there it was.

“I can’t,” I started to say, turning away from the phone just as a rush of nausea flooded through me, but Lottie held strong, hand coming up to catch my shoulder so that she could position her phone back in my eyeline. “Lottie–” I tried. Please.

“Just listen.” She persisted, face so serious.

Immediately I wanted to rescind my earlier statement. This was now my most mortifying moment. In fact, I wanted to hide in the nearest cupboard and never come out again. How the fuck was I going to show my face in public, not to mention at the next event, after this?

I swallowed thickly, entirely unprepared to hear a word he had to say about me. I mean, who would be? This man was leagues above a majority of the industry, me included. Never had I ever even thought that he could hear my name in passing, let alone listen to one of my songs playing in some shop he was coincidentally in or a random radio station. But here he now was, rolling his lips as he pondered over a question which concerned that stupid fucking video. 

“I hate you.” I whispered at Lottie, mostly in hopes to cover up whatever he was about to say, but also because I was embarrassed beyond belief. And this was all her fault.

In the time spent since the drunken video had first gone up and now, I had yet to even think about him ever seeing it. Because the idea was that far fetched. But this was me, so of course he had.

“I’ve heard it.” Marshall confirmed, his head dipped in a barely there nod. My throat cinched. I wondered briefly how quickly I’d be able to tie myself a noose.

“And?” The woman prodded and internally I cursed her future bloodline, hoping that she'd somehow spawn the next antichrist or that her grandchild would become a shit-headed politician.

The man in question merely hummed, hollowing out his cheeks. “I was surprised, I have to admit. But she’s good, even when wasted.”

“I wasn’t fucking wasted!” 

I hadn't even realised I’d spoken out loud until Lottie snorted on a chuckle. I turned towards her, brows raised high, “What? I wasn’t. You were there!”

I rolled my eyes when she didn’t deign me with some sort of assent but my head snapped back over to where she still gripped the phone when I heard him speak again, his voice echoing throughout the quiet bedroom.

“Then again, her shit goes hard. So it shouldn’t be too much of a surprise.”

That heart of mine that I kept on talking about? Yeah, I had zero clue as to what the fuck was going on with it now, only that my chest was wound as tight as it possibly could be and my eyes stung as I withheld the urge to even blink.

“You’re a fan?” The woman asked him, appearing genuinely surprised by the notion, even though it sounded more like a declaration rather than the question it was.

Marshall hummed, sparing a brief glance over his shoulder when a group shuffled on past them, disrupting the interview. It didn’t deter the woman though and I couldn’t blame her, no matter how much it pained me.

“So, could this mean we’ll be seeing a new featured artist on whatever you put out next?”

I made some sort of inhuman sound at that, but barely moved a muscle. And then I all but shutdown when the rapper's wide eyes flickered over to peer straight into the camera’s lens, “I mean, if she’s down.”

The next scream that was emitted once again came from Lottie, but I couldn’t think to scold her for it, not when I was hardly even functioning and wanted to implode myself. 

The girl toppled over onto me, shaking my shoulders whilst she squealed unabashedly. “If. She’s. Down!” She repeated, squealing with excitement, “El, this is insane! How are you not screaming too?”

The air I forced from my lungs came out in a breathless chuckle as I clung to the forearm that was still wrapped around my collar. In truth, I didn’t know how the hell I was supposed to react. 

“Figure you’ve screamed enough for the both of us.” I replied faintly, not really thinking but somehow managing to carry on, mostly out of sheer shock. I glanced her way, “I feel a bit sick.”

Lottie just shook me harder and when we eventually went falling down onto the duvet in a mess of limbs I wondered what I was going to do with the knowledge that I’d just been given. God. He knew who I was. The shock of it was almost like reliving my first time on stage all over again.

That night I ended up listening to Lottie rant on and on for a good while after whilst she scrolled through her Twitter feed and the rest of the internet. Mila eventually intervened, calling after having seen it too, and was as smug as ever. “Told you.” She’d said the second I’d hit the answer button and I hadn’t had the heart to play it off or act as though I hadn’t seen it either. 

After the interview eventually finished trending and stopped being posted here, there, and everywhere, I was left with a flow of new followers but also a nightmare of opinions spouting from every corner of the planet on any comment section I had to offer. I forced myself to come off most apps I had downloaded after that and resorted to gaining my daily entertainment, and any real news, from Lottie. Which seemed sad, in retrospect, but honestly? It was more than a little self-serving and I’d even managed to get a shit load of stuff done.

I worked on a couple new songs, sticking to what I did best, but my mind did end up drifting away every so often, back to a conversation I’d had with Mila and Travis at the label a couple days after the media storm had passed. It seemed they all wanted me to try implementing a few new concepts into the music I was currently working on before we started to draw up ideas for the next album. Travis reasoned that even attempting to add a couple freestyles into the motions whilst I went about writing would do me wonders later on. 

I just felt uncomfortable with it all, really. I’d never been a rapper. I mean, I loved it. It was mainly what I’d been brought up on, having grown up in an area where every kid on the estate was either attempting to become the next big thing or just blaring the biggest hits out of their car stereos. But that was just it. I listened and sang along, had even built up an extensive collection which I was immensely proud of, but the label were now aiming for this next album to make it onto a Grammy nominations list. It was all they had been fretting over since I’d somehow managed to chart the last one– although a single number one and an almost throw away making it to number seven didn’t make me all that hopeful. 

Even so, it forced me to wonder how it would all work if I started to switch things up now. I could appreciate all genres but I didn’t wanna become the next hopper just to appease the people yessing me and then fall off.

The entire concept had me confused and so I had taken to keeping my head down for a while longer.

Lottie had headed back to mum’s earlier that morning, seeing as I was due to make an appearance in Paris for Fashion Week, attending the Vogue show alongside Vivienne Westwood. An utter dream, yes, but also still an incredibly daunting reality. Even so, it was something I couldn’t quite worm my way out of even if I had wanted to– see, with that contract there still came clauses.

I’d been prepping for my upcoming early morning flight most of the day, showering later on than anticipated just so that I could pack my case and eat before I eventually climbed into bed. Hoping to somehow get a couple hours kip.

I’d thrown on a robe and kept the speakers blaring once I’d eventually jumped out from under the spray, wet hair curling at the ends as I worked on throwing something quick together in my kitchen.

It wasn't long before I went and took the bowl I’d just made out into the living room with me, simply so that I could curl up on the settee and wrap up the few emails I’d been working on earlier. I was just nodding along and humming to the next song that played through the overhead speakers when my phone started to buzz against my ankle, shooting a funny feeling up through the bone. I was quick to pick it up, wrinkling my nose at the feel and not paying much mind to the caller, figuring it had to be either Mila or Lottie.

“Hello?”

There was a short pause as I shifted the phone against my ear before a voice eventually sounded, “This Elia?”

Frowning, I casted a quick glance at the phone’s screen to find a number with an unfamiliar area code staring back at me. I let my gaze stray on over towards a clock I had hanging on the far wall only to find that it had just gone eight. 

I fumbled for a moment, “Um. It is, can I ask who’s calling?”

A low cough rumbled through the line before the same voice spoke again, I shuffled to set my laptop off to the side on the sofa, brow furrowed. “It’s Em– Marshall.”

Suddenly my head felt so very empty and my mouth was working around words that couldn't seem to find their way out. Em. The Em?? Fucking, Em?

I’d obviously been quiet a beat too long, drowning in the sudden panic that had shrouded me, because he spoke up again, “That Nas playin’?”

I shot a startled glance over my shoulder to where the fancy sound system was installed, the biggest reason I’d gone and purchased the home, in truth, and was immediately reminded of the music I had piercing through the air. Clumsily, I rolled off of the corner of the settee so that I could stumble over to turn the thing off, doing exactly that before I was forced to blink at the sudden silence that greeted me.

I winced and was quick to turn the music back on, keeping it low. All the while I still held my phone close to my chest.

“Uh, yeah. Hi!” I blundered helplessly after a moment, carding a hand through my damp hair as I stared at the empty wall before me stupidly. I wasn’t sure what to say, let alone do. I could sort of wrap my head around the interview, his brief mention of me. But a fucking phone call? It was on another level.

He chuckled though, enough so that I felt myself flush bashfully at my obvious awkwardness and forced my body to move back towards the sofa, if only so that I didn’t have to stand on shaky legs anymore. 

“Hi.” He mimicked, voice low albeit a tad amused.

I smiled. Unable to do anything but, in all honesty, as I lowered myself down onto the cushions, vaguely aware that I should probably be saying something else now that he’d gone and replied, but was simply more than a little caught off guard by everything. 

“Sorry, I– Well, I didn’t expect your call. Or anyones really.” I murmured, trying my best to shake off the nerves that were apparently wreaking havoc on my brain to mouth filter. “I just jumped out of the shower, had yet to turn off the stereo. Sorry.” How many times had I just apologised? I wanted to scream.

“You’re good.” He assured me, voice unlike what I probably would have expected and so I blinked once more at the sound of it, reminded that it was actually him I was talking to. But all that was fluttering through my head was ‘what the fuck are you doing calling me?’ “Nice choice, I gotta say. This an alright time for you to talk? I don’t wanna disturb you much.”

My eyes widened at both the compliment in song choice and well, him. Then withheld another sudden urge to scream, the hand not holding my phone clenching into a tight fist against my chest. “No, no, of course not. I mean, you’re fine! Not disturbing me at all.”

His next reply sounded more than just a little mirthful, “Sure ‘bout that?”

I willed myself to relax and took an inconspicuous breath as I pulled my legs back up under me. “I’m sure.” I told him, laughing lightly at myself for being so socially inept– or maybe it was just this entire scenario I’d been shoved into. “How’d you even get my number anyway?” 

I hadn’t meant for it to sound so forceful or abrupt, but it had been yet another question my sluggish brain hadn’t been able to find an answer to. 

“Mila?” He answered me, and I blinked stupidly at the name. “We had a mutual contact, figured I’d chance askin’ her instead of gettin’ lost in your DM’s. That cool? She said she’d let you know.”

The conniving cow, I thought to myself, though I wouldn’t have put it past her to have reasoned with herself that I would’ve probably freaked out if she had told me beforehand, before then having proceeded to just let my phone ring out whilst I stared pitifully at it. She knew me all too well. 

“She did not.” I replied through a baited breath, “But no, yeah. You’re alright, just caught me off guard is all. You’re probably the last person I expected to call, if I’m being honest here..”

When I heard him laugh once more I grinned, all too pleased with myself. It was a low gruff sound, not deep enough to be sarcastic or ingenuine, but rather warm. It surprised me.

“Oh yeah? Even after everything that’s gone down lately?”

My eyes slipped closed at the instantaneous reminder and I winced. The video. Honestly, in the whirlwind that wasn’t just my life at the moment, but this phone call too, I could have almost forgotten about it.

“I still can’t believe you saw that.”

Marshall let go of another amused huff that I figured to be a chuckle, breathing in deep enough that he forced me to wait on his next words. “I don’t lie. I meant what I said. But tell me, how many drinks d’you have in you?”

I curled my tongue against the back of my teeth in hopes to keep from grinning too hard, feeling a slight sting at the tip. “I was tipsy.” I argued pointlessly, knowing it would be a tireless venture, “I’d only had a couple.”

He hummed, seemingly not convinced.

“It was years ago, too!” I felt the need to tack on, the rosy hue the alcohol had given my cheeks sprung to mind and made me wonder. My face wrinkled as I dragged a helpless hand across it. “Who even sent it to you?”

“A couple people, actually.” Marshall ended up revealing and his words sounded playful enough that I could almost picture the curl of his mouth. “My daughter was one.”

Without thinking my hand flew up towards my mouth and I shook my head as I let it rest against my palm. “You’re not being serious.”

“Dre too.”

I let go of a hissed curse and crumpled a little bit in my seat before laughing stupidly at myself. If I couldn’t talk myself out of this then I supposed I would just have to get over it. I hoped thinking sensibly would allow me to actually follow through on that sentiment, but I very much doubted it.

Marshall laughed again, slow and easy almost as though he’d shared it with me a hundred times before. “I wasn’t kiddin’ neither. ’s why I called.”

Pulling my head from out of my hands, I wet my lower lip, mind promptly flashing back to the clip Lottie had shown me. “What’s that meant to mean?” I asked him, treading cautiously. 

“Listen.” He began, pausing only briefly to inhale before he then added, “I’m workin’ on another album–”

“No.” I interrupted, eyes suddenly wide and alert, “Already?”

A tittered snort followed the disruption but my mind was already reeling. 

“You’re not fucking with me?”

In all honesty I had prepared myself to wait a couple more years for another drop, hoping for him to feature or for someone to send for him if only so that he’d make a track in reply. I’d been obsessed with his recent work, even going as far as to add it onto the tour bus playlist late last year. It had actually been played so much the roadies and the band had threatened to rip the system out. But a new album? Fuck. I hadn’t expected it.

“Who else knows?”

There was a slight click on the other side of the line. Or scuffle. “As of right now? Like six people.”

I swallowed down the understanding that then hit me, but my stomach lurched at the very thought of it. “And I’m one?” I chuckled, holding back the hysterical laughter I felt bubble as my hand fell over my heart, “Wow, I feel honoured, Mathers.” It was teasing, the rib I meant, though my eyes still widened when I realised what I’d gone and said, not wanting him to take it the wrong way. 

I needn’t have worried. 

“As you fuckin’ should be.”

I gave a real laugh at that, almost a full-belly type shit. But could you really blame me? 

I was still smiling as I went to retort, humming with it, “God, you really just went and sprung that shit on me.”

“Hold you to keepin’ it on the low for now.” Marshall said, reminding me how paranoid the press and Hollywood had made him out to be in the past. I wondered how much truth there was in the sentiment. I mean, the man was almost a recluse– not that I could blame him, I was pulled from the same sort of cloth there– but to put a secret like that in my hands? It had to take some amount of faith.

I nodded seriously, even though he couldn’t see the gesture. Seemed he could hear the sincerity in my answer though, “‘Course.” I told him and then chewed on my lower lip for a second before a soft snicker escaped me. “That the only reason you called though? I mean, as honoured as I am to be one of the infamous six, I’m surprised you just phoned to let me in on the know. Have I just been roped into some sort of celeb elitist group? Weird initiation.”

His huffed laugh was breathy and made my mouth twitch that little bit more. 

“Nah. You always this weird though?” Marshall wondered and I bared my teeth in a light grimace, figuring I’d gone too far with that one. Or maybe.. I'd just hit the mark? I snorted lightly at the thought.

“It was an honest question! I’ve heard horror stories.” And wasn’t that the truth, events and parties weren’t all about the awards and just getting trollied. Some of those fuckers were as strange as people could come.

The man clucked his tongue, although I could hear the slight smile in his sarky response. “Uhuh. Sorry to disappoint but nah, initiation starts in the belly of LA. Gotta dissect a virgin and drink Ciroc out of their intestines. Funnel that shit down.”

The snort I gave in turn was ugly and loud enough that it forced a hand to fly up and cover my mouth, but it didn’t appear to bother the rapper none, who chuckled before clearing his throat.

“Change this shit to Facetime.” He said not a second after, swiftly cutting short my absurd amusement. “Then we can talk about the album.”

I fumbled for a moment. “I look a mess.”

“Good thing this ain’t a fuckin’ fashion show then.” He only pressed, “You think I give a shit what you look like right now?”

That struck an odd chord in me for some reason, but I didn’t want to linger much on the feeling. “No. But I do, dickhead. It’s half eight at night, I have sudocrem on my face and I look like a dog off of Lady and the Tramp.”

I was so flustered by the very thought of acquiescing to the man’s demand that I didn’t even think much of the name I’d gone and called him. 

“Again, do I give a shit? And what did you just call me?”

I paused, reeling back to whatever it was I’d just spouted at him. Upon rehashing my words I felt my tongue press between my lips to keep from laughing loudly, if Mila or Lottie had been there I’d already be strung up by a pair of metaphorical balls. 

“You heard me fine.” I brushed it off, if he wanted to call me out of the blue and act all chummy then chummy was what he’d get.

Besides it wasn’t like I’d meant the term maliciously, I used that type of endearment with everybody. Something my manager had tried and failed to force out of me time and time again.

“But back to this whole ‘seeing my mug thing’. Not happening, mate. Why couldn’t you have called like, six hours ago? I looked like an actual person then.”

“Dickhead.” He muttered beneath his breath, barely even loud enough for me to have heard him and I could only guess that he was shaking his head with it, hopefully somewhat amused. “You ain’t an actual person then?” He said in reply, forgoing the name calling for now, “Figures, you give off lizard vibes.”

“Fuck you!” My laugh was sudden, jaw having dropped a tad at the quip. “Lizard vibes, the fuck are you then? And yes, an actual person! You can’t just call people, drop a bomb, and then demand things!”

“Shit typically works.” He quipped all too quickly that it had me shaking my head around another quiet smile of my own. “Just entertain me though, for a moment.”

My head fell back against the arm of the sofa, eyes casted towards the high ceiling which loomed above. I couldn’t quite believe I was actually considering it.

He didn’t even have to goad me before I relented. I huffed, blowing a strand of hair from out of my face as I sat back up, “Fine. Just gimme a sec.” 

He hummed.

Elbowing my way off the settee I skidded over to the closest mirror, dragged a hand through my mostly dried hair and made sure that I didn’t have racoon eyes from any lingering mascara I’d had on before my shower. The patches of sudocrem would have to stay though, I deemed, seeing as he already knew about those. 

I gave up on the preening and sighed as I fell back onto the sofa, thankful for the dim lights the living room offered in that moment. It was just as I was switching the call though that a thought hit me, making me question if the reason he’d asked me to start the Facetime was due to him wanting to give me the option to turn it down or simply because he had no idea how to do it himself. “Still there, old man?”

A scoff echoed into the room before my phone screen stuttered and I was left staring at the sharp lines of his face. It wasn’t like I hadn’t actually believed it was him I was talking to, but seeing the man was another thing altogether. He was a real person and that idea alone had me reeling. 

I wrinkled my nose almost shyly around a smile when that sharp gaze of his slid away from something behind the camera to meet mine. He tilted his head to look me over, the hood of his jumper moving with the motion. 

“I was right about the lizard thing.” Was the only greeting he offered me, jutting his chin out as he feigned all seriousness. 

My mouth dropped open upon hearing him and my tongue quickly flicked out towards a canine to keep from biting back at him. There was humour written in the gesture though, even as I moved to narrow my eyes. “He’s got jokes! Reused ones, I might add, but jokes nonetheless.” I snarked, lifting my eyebrows at him in exaggeration, “Hilarious.”

His mouth curled very, very briefly, but I was quick to work out that it was all in the eyes with him. They held a certain amount of mirth as they flickered over my face. I wondered what he saw. 

“Suits you though. Even with all the…” He waved a hand over his own face, probably referencing the white dots I had littered in a few places.

With a shake of my head I raised a hand to my chest, feigning a fond appreciation for the sardonic comment. “Is that the famous charm the world’s heard so much about then? Really know how to make a girl feel special, Mathers.”

His eyes slitted but still shone with a slight glaze, he hummed deeply in retort. “Best believe it. Why d’you think I’ve gotten divorced twice?”

A low whistle escaped me before I then laughed, eyes squinting with the strength of it. “Figured you might just have a kink for courtrooms.” 

His tongue swept into his cheek at my boldness, fighting back a real smile as he glanced away and then back again. “I’m down bad for a good Judge. Spank me vibes, you know?”

I chuckled outwardly at that, amused by his quick witted replies. But that in itself didn’t surprise me, it was well known just how hilarious the man could be, his stoic demeanour only prodding that revelation further. 

That sternness his face seemed to consistently hold softened though in that next moment and I watched on as he shuffled a little closer to the camera, sat somewhere indoors with enough natural light that he could have only been in his kitchen. It hit me then how wild this whole thing suddenly was. “What’s with the last name anyway?”

I blinked, caught off guard by his ask. “Um,” I fumbled, a slight wrinkle forming between my brow, “What do you mean, me calling you Mathers?”

He hummed and I had to think about it for a second. Ultimately I ended up gifting him a shrug, “Don’t know. Just feels strange to call you Eminem or whatever.” I laughed lightly at myself, hand falling to my knee to toy with a loose thread on the hem of my robe. “What do people usually call you?”

It was his turn to shrug then, his being a singular and fluid motion whereas mine had been more thoughtless. He was watching again though, the wide eyes I was so used to seeing in old interviews where he was always playing a part were now gentler, narrowed sure, but softer and slightly wrinkled at the very edges.

I tugged on the frayed thread, wrapping it around my finger enough to whiten the skin before I had to let it go again. “Is Em okay? Or just Marshall maybe?” I queried, watching him too.

“Whatever you want.” He murmured and it was then that I noticed he’d propped his phone up somewhere in front of him because a pair of hands came to rest at the bottom of the screen just as he pressed further into the counter he was sat at.

I wrung my lips to one side, teeth biting into the inside of my cheek enough to keep from smiling much more than I already was. “Most people call me El or Lia. Elia just started to feel unnatural away from, you know, everyone else.”

It was the worlds now, as well as one of few reasons I had for the stigma I felt around my own name. 

The man jerked his head in a short nod in response whilst his fingers intertwined against a marble countertop. “So we should just slide that into the writin’ credits then? Or you finally gone take me up on that offer of a feature?”

You know that odd feeling you get when you’re on the tube or a plane and so suddenly your ears just pop and there's this ringing sound that floods the single sense? It just happens, out of nowhere, and you blink. So all you can immediately focus on is the sound. The odd feeling of it driving waves deeper and deeper into your skull. And the only way you can recover is by holding your own breath?

That was what that question felt like to me. 

“What?”

His eyes were alight, akin to a low flame of flickering amusement and perhaps hope. “You deaf now too? Know you heard me.”

Of course I fucking heard him but that didn’t mean I understood. “This is for real?”

Finally, he let go of a dulcet chuckle, almost a ringing sound in and of itself. “You gone make me repeat it? You in, or not?”

“How is that even a question?” I breathed back to him, my hand shaking against the hem of my robe. “Yes! God, if I ever say to no to an ask like that you better fucking shoot me. What the fuck, Marshall?”

That chuckle again.

It was unlike anything else, the only sound I could hear around the blood rushing between my ears. Stupidly, I pinched my thigh and released a stuttered breath when the twist of skin radiated a short snap of pain up my leg.

“That the go ahead then?”

I must’ve looked so incredibly starstruck but I couldn’t even bring myself to care, this was unreal. I nodded, almost frantically at him. “Of course that’s the fucking go ahead! Are you sure about this? I mean, I don’t know how much help I’ll be. I mostly write radio shit.”

“Your earlier stuff ain’t.” Em shot back, the quip startling me enough to snap my jaw shut because not a lot of people ever dug that deep. But he continued on before I could think to hone in on the slip, “‘sides, your lyrics are what I fuck with. That shit makes you think, has you lingerin’. Playing with words is the aim, I want people thinkin’, leachin’ onto each syllable and every phrase. You do that.”

The air in my lungs lurched.

I could only offer him one reply, “When do we start?”

[vrisrezis]

need a part 2 for the atsv love triangle where the reader is actually in love with them and after they get together they tell them about their alter ego 😩

Your wish is my command y’all!

Gwen is was carrying you, bridal style, swinging away with you in her arms. Not that you knew it was gwen anyway. Spiderwoman, upon meeting you, often decided to take you home as a means of protection, because for some reason you decided walking home in the middle of the night was a swell idea. She offered to swing you home as a result. If you didn’t know any better though, you’d say it was because she loved flirting with you so much. She never denied it when you brought it up. Honestly, she’s just not used to such a flustered look on your face, she can’t help herself. Though she does secretly envy how the real her can’t manage you make you all shy and embarrassed like that.

Today though, you seemed rather… off. Something was bothering you, and she could tell. Nothing seemed off at school, so she figured something had to have happened. “What’s got you so upset?” she questions before dropping down on top the roof of a building. “Somebody I gotta knock some sense into?” she asks, putting you down to stand next to her, looking at the scenery before you, it was nice out today. You smile, but even that feels forced. She can’t help but frown under the mask and the worry she carries is radiating off of her. You shake your head, “it’s nothing to worry about” you say before shrugging, “just normal highschool stuff.”

“What does that mean?” she inquired, and you sigh, albeit rather dramatically.” “It’s so stupid.” You admit, but before you can assure you it probably isn’t, you continue “there’s just this girl I really like. More than like. I think I love her.”

As soon as those words come out of your mouth, she feels her heart drop. Girl? Was it her? Spiderwoman? Or some other girl at school? You didn’t talk to many people aside from her, who could it possibly be?

“O-oh..” she says, looking down for a moment. She hopes you don’t hear the crack in her voice. She can’t help her curiosity, she needs to know. “Well.. who is it?” she says, trying to recover as quickly as possible. She nudges you with her elbow, “need to know if they’re good enough for you or just some tool.”

You laugh, and give her a smile. “Her names… gwen..”

“G-gwen?!” she shrieks out, her body stiffening. You don’t seem to notice.

“Yeah.. gwen… gwen stacy…”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, but she eventually grabs onto your shoulder.

“Y/n…”

“Yeah?” you ask, confused for a moment, before you see her pull at her mask. Your eyes widen, and you suddenly feel a wash of shame upon seeing who’s under the mask.

However, she gives you a smile.

“I… love you too… by the way..”

Miles had a very simple plan, no big deal at all. All he had to do was confess he was in love with you and then eventually down the line if it works out in his favor, confess to being spiderman. No big deal…..

Or should he do it in the opposite order?

And should he still confess to being spiderman if you two end up staying friends when you reject him?

He has a lot of questions racking his brain, and to be fair he doesn’t think it’s completely unreasonable. Maybe he should’ve told you from the start. Would you even be accepting? Supportive? He’s been lying to you for a whole ass year now, you were kind, but were you that kind? He feels like there’s just no way, right? Then again, you never failed to surprise him.

He doesn’t have time to think about these questions any longer though, as he hears chaos going on outside. Not the normal kind of chaos, this was his cue.

His confession would have to wait a little longer.

—

He’s quick to his feet. Not that spiderman didn’t give it his all when it came to saving civilians, but he saw you in the fray. He bounces from building to building, webbing civilians to safety along the way, he sees you fall and he’s never jumped so fast in his life.

He reaches his hand out to yours, and finally you’re able to grab on and he’s able to pull you into his arms, picking you up bridal style all while in the air.

“We’ve really gotta stop meeting like this..” miles mutters to you, and you chuckle lightly. “Yeah well..” she look off to the side, before looking back at him. “You could always take me on a date, miles.”

Miles?

Date?

“Excusemewhatnow?”

as soon as he lands, you manage to escape his grip. Maybe it was because he was so caught off guard, since normally escaping his grasp was near impossible.

“We’ll talk later!”

You were going to be the death of him.

Hobie had enough.

If you weren’t going to figure this out on your own, he was gonna have to tell you.

I mean seriously, he loves you but you are so clueless sometimes and he genuinely wonders if you admire spiderpunk so much that you don’t want to consider he could be your best friend. He wonders if he’s being selfish and if this ruins the imagination for you but at this point he’s too pent up to even care, something he isn’t used to being. He’s typically so honest about the way he feels, never holding anything back. This should be no different.

He leaves his bag zipper carelessly open, in hopes you find it. And you do. He’s busy cleaning up his guitar, but he sees you look at him, then look back at the spider suit in the corner of his eye.

But you say nothing.

You go on about your day like you didn’t just see that.

Is he the one being played?

He eventually decides he needs to simply confront you. There’s no way around it. So he does.

It’s one of those many nights where you two are hanging out, as friends do. You’re both lying on his bed, side to side, he’s writing a song, you’re reading a comic book. He turns over on his right side to look at you, and you do the same on your left side. “Hey.” he whispers, “hey yourself.” you whisper back with a smile. He rolls his eyes.

Just be cool, man. He tells himself.

“You know..” he starts slowly, a bit unsure of the next words that will come out of his mouth, “you know I’m spiderman, right?”

He doesn’t have time to dwell on just how casual that was, to drop some information like that so simply. Then again, he did that constantly. This felt so different though.

“Yeah..” you let out a sigh, and hobie realizes that you really were playing with him the whole time. But before he can rely, you say “you know I’m in love with you, any version of you, right?”

He feels his heart stop for a moment, but he gives no indication that he’s flustered by your words.

“About damn time you said somethin, darlin”

Pavitr thinks about it, over and over and over and over and ov-

He just doesn’t know how to tell you he’s spiderman. He’s been so buys living the life as spiderman, it felt so simple, so easy. Go to school, beat up some bad guys, take some breaks to see you and his auntie, go back to fighting, come home. It was the same everytime and he didn’t seem bored of it, yet.

He hadn’t really gotten to see the consequences of being spiderman.

And then he did, when he nearly lost you. He was only able to save you because miles, gwen, and hobie were there to help him.

And from then on he knew he couldn’t lie to you anymore.

Things have been.. weird lately, to say the least. Some weird ass dark black abyss in the middle of mumbattan left many civilians curious, including yourself.

Though Pavitr felt like he could explain those bits later, he knew he just needed to tell you what was on his mind.

Because he and you both knew, he had something to say.

Spending time in your room wasn’t a rare occurrence but Pavitr found himself doing it a lot more lately, which in your opinion was good given how busy he’s been lately. You figured he must’ve been freaked out by mumbattan nearly falling apart at the seams, and you tried to be there for him. He made it clear he was there for you, too.

“Y/n I have to tell you something.” he says, turning to look at you.

You look back at him, knowing this would be a serious conversation. He never called you by your actual name, usual nicknames. You nod and place your hand on top of his, and you give him one of your warm smiles. He feels heat rush to his cheeks, but for once he doesn’t let his nerves stop him. He moves his hand to intertwine your fingers together, “I’m…” there’s a pause, and you figure you have to assure him you know.

“You’re spiderman?” you ask, and there’s a moment he looks at you, shocked. His mouth is agape, and you can’t help but smirk. “You know?!” you scoff, “yeah of course I know pav I’m not an idiot!” you say with a laugh, and a lot of his tension dissipates before he remembers what he wants to tell you.

“Well.. while that is true, that isn’t what I was gonna tell you.”

Now it’s your turn to be surprised, you raise a brow. “Yeah?”

He takes a moment, before blurting it out.

“I’minlovewithyou!” the words all come out jumbled at once and he almost considered repeating himself before you give him a kiss on the cheek. “In love with you too, pav. But I also knew that already.” you say cheekily, “what?! How?!” “You’re not exactly subtle” you shrug.

“Can I have any victory today? Can we start over and you just pretend you didn’t know?”

you smile and shake your head, and he groans.

But honestly, the only reason he’s being so silly right now is so he doesn’t absolutely melt into your hands like putty over the fact you kissed him on the cheek.

[melrodrigo]

I really love puppy love omg 😭😭 what about when puppy like reader gets really injured by someone and ends up in the clinic and tries to hide it so that wednesday wont notice? Its up to you if you wanna write it!

ty babe! i’m glad you like it

i might’ve gone a little overboard and wrote more than i thought i would, enjoy!

Okay. Maybe picking a fight with a 6’2 giant wasn’t your brightest idea.

It started in fencing class, you making your way towards Enid, for a pair exercise. Wednesday wasn’t in class today, opting instead to sneak out and work on the hyde case, she had mentioned briefly.

“Yeah dude, Wednesday is sooo into me. I can feel it. She’s been giving me so many signals.” You hear as you walk past Xavier and his hoard of friends.

You can’t help the sudden tug in your heart, and the small voice in your head that said maybe he was right.

Wednesday had been spending a lot of time with Xavier lately, but she had claimed it was for the hyde case. It didn’t help the swell of jealousy that surged through you whenever you saw them though.

Stupid feelings. Why are you jealous anyway? It’s not like you and Wednesday are together.

A voice cuts you out of your thoughts, “Totally dude, and when you finally hit that, you gotta tell me alll the details alright?”

Your face scrunches in disgust, hands on both sides of your body starting to clench into fists.

“You know I will. I swear, she’s all over me. Next time we’re alone together, it’s on.” Xavier replies, drawing an emphasis on the last word.

Nope, that’s it.

You turn sharply and bring your clenched fists up to your face, resembling the stance of a boxer.

It probably looked a little funny, since you were what, a million feet shorter than him? But you honestly couldn’t have cared less in the moment.

“Don’t you dare talk about her like that.” You hiss, eyes hard and unforgiving.

Xavier stays quiet for a moment, then let’s out a loud laugh.

“And what are you going to do about it, huh? Wednesday’s not here to protect your ass this time.” He drawls, smirk on his crusty thin lips.

He leans in, too close for comfort and whispers, “Wednesday would never give you the light of day. You’re so pathetically in love with her, all of us can see it. But Wednesday’s in love with me.”

He pauses for a moment, like he’s trying to think of something good to say.

“And when we finally fuck, i’ll be sure to send you some photo evidence.”

That does it. You snap, lunging forward and grabbing his hair, pulling harshly.

“Ow! Get off of me!”

It’s hard to remember what happens next, you’re so lost in the fury and rage of it all you can barely register that you’re suddenly on top of him, pummeling his stupid face with all your might.

You grin in satisfaction as you see blood start to make its way from his lips down to his neck.

But your luck doesn’t last very long, and he manages to kick up at a certain weak spot between your legs, leaving you to stumble and hit the floor.

Groaning, you try and get up, but he’s faster. The adrenaline is fading away, and you’re starting to realize that he is in fact a lot stronger, even if you hate to admit it.

You start to lose feeling in the right side of your face, where his knuckles have collided against your skin. Bruises form so fast you almost let out a chuckle, was your skin really that sensitive?

“That’s enough! Xavier get off YN.” The teacher’s voice booms. Could he really not have cut in sooner?

“Enid, take YN to the nurses office.”

You barely register Enid and Ajax rushing over to you, taking you in their arms and dragging you out the classroom.

You smile a toothy grin at them.

“Did I win?” And then everything turns to black.

______

When you wake up again, Enid’s at your side immediately, looking down at you, worry prominent in her eyes.

“YN! Are you okay?”

You nod, only to find out that it’s extremely difficult to move your head and not feel like you just broke every bone in your body.

“I’m good.” You croak.

You look around the room, relieved to find that Wednesday wasn’t there. You don’t think you could bear the look she would give you, so full of worry and so unlike Wednesday.

“Where’s Wednesday?” You manage out, looking at Enid expectedly.

“She hasn’t come back from Jericho yet.” Enid confirms your suspicions, sounding a little uneasy.

“Xavier’s really got to watch his back, I have no idea what Wednesday’s going to do when she finds out about this, but it’s NOT going to be pretty.” She continues, eyes wide.

At that, your own eyes widen, and you try to shake your head.

“No no, Enid, please don’t tell Wednesday about this. I don’t want her to see me in this shape.” You reach for Enid’s hand, making sure she’s looking at you.

“But…”

“Please, Enid. You don’t have to lie or anything, just tell her you don’t know where I am. I’ll be good in a couple of days.” You plead.

“Alright, fine.” She mumbles, taking your hand in hers and rubbing the back in comfort.

——

The next few days are spent in agony. The pain is starting to subside, but you still look like a beat up raisin. Purple and green bruises litter your skin, but the real sense of pain is coming from the distance between you and Wednesday.

You two had grown….very somewhat close the last few months, though the both of you would never admit it.

It was extremely hard trying to avoid Wednesday, and even harder to cover the bruises on your face. One good look and you knew she would’ve figured it out.

So for the past week, you’ve stumbled into bushes, fallen over benches, and hit the corridor walls in an attempt to swerve from Wednesday many times.

Every time she tried to approach you, you’d hang your head low, never meeting her eyes.

It was going well for the most part, until Ms.Thornhill had decided she wanted people to work in pairs.

You crossed your fingers, praying to the lord that you didn’t even worship you wouldn’t be stuck with Wednesday.

But to no avail, your luck once again ran out.

“Wednesday Addams, YN LN.”

You sigh loudly and make your way over to sit next to Wednesday, still avoiding her eye at all costs.

Most of the lesson is spent in silence, both of you lost stirring in your thoughts.

Then, “Why have you been avoiding me?” Wednesday says, hurried, like she couldn’t help it from slipping.

You sigh, for what feels like the millionth time that day, and manage a quiet, “I haven’t been avoiding you Wednesday.”

It comes out so weak, you wouldn’t have even believed yourself.

“Yes you have. I want to know the reason, have I done something wrong? Maybe I said something to hurt your….feelings?” She pauses before the last word, tone turning uncertain.

You frown.

“No of course not Wednesday, I just…” You trail off.

You turn to Wednesday, determined to give the performance of a lifetime, but forget that your face still looks like a bruised peach, and you definitely shouldn’t look her in the face.

You let out a final sigh and pull the head of your hoodie down, feeling small under Wednesdays stare.

Her eyes widen a little at the sight of you, and worry fills them. You can’t help but feel a tinge of happiness at how much she seems to care, letting the emotionless mask slip for a second.

She stands up suddenly, startling you and the 20 other people in the room.

“Ms. Thornhill, may YN and I please be excused?”

Wednesday doesn’t wait for Ms.Thornhill to answer before taking you by the wrist and dragging you out.

She doesn’t say a word until she gets to her dorm, quickly opening the door and throwing you in.

“Wednesday?” You squeak.

She turns and reaches out to touch your face, thumb rubbing just the slightest on your bruises.

A gentleness she didn’t know she possessed took over, still moving her hand in small circles all over your face.

“Who did this to you?” She murmurs, and her voice is filled with such intense worry it makes you want to break down.

Your head falls down on instinct, staring at your shoes like they’re the most interesting piece of art in the world.

Wednesday grips your chin and tilts your face back up, inches away from you.

Then she’s placing her hands on your waist, hands rigid, like she’s nervous.

You look so vulnerable, and she might’ve even say sort of adorable, she can’t help but lean forward and press a kiss to your cheek, on top of the scar.

Your breath hitches in your throat, body stiff.

She continues giving you little pecks all around the bruises, and you relax in her arms.

After a while, she pulls away, and you grab at her on instinct. She lets you, body pressing up to yours once again.

“You never answered my question.” She says.

“Xavier. He said something bad about you, but it doesn’t matter now. This is much better.” You mumble as you dig your face in her uniform.

She tenses up at this.

“He’s going to die a slow, painful death. And not the satisfying kind.” She decides, hand wrapping around your waist protectively.

You hum, “Who cares? I just wanna stay like this.”

The two of you don’t say much after that, content in simply being in each other’s presence.

-

When you get to class the next day, you bite back a smirk when you see Xavier’s positively beaten up face.

You walk over to him, acting all nonchalant.

“Yeah dude. She’s soooo into you.”

-

A/N: I kinda really enjoyed writing that, ty anon! Wednesday’s such a sweet softie on the inside.

[askinkiskarma]

High Infidelity III (the end)

Adult!Neteyam x (f)Metkayina!Reader x Ao'nung

Warnings: smut (fingering, oral - m and f receiving, spitting in mouth, anal play, p in v, creampie, praise kink), mentions of cheating, cursing, violence, blood, 18+ minors dni for the love of god !!!!

Word count: 6k words

Notes: honestly i need to be doused in holy water after writing that, but i'd probably just burst into flames anyway. i hope you enjoy reading the last instalment of High Infidelity, and I hope it's everything you've ever wanted and more, cause omg, did I enjoy writing it besties. thank you for all the love of this series, I really felt it. i love you all sm xoxoxo

previous part (x)

You know there's many different ways that you can kill the one you love

The slowest way is never loving them enough

Do you really want to know where I was April 29th?

Do I really have to tell you how he brought me back to life?

Neteyam’s face snapped in the direction of your voice, an unreadable expression marring his beautiful features. 

“What did you say?”

You were boldened and empowered by the ache running through you, by all the feelings that mingled into a cocktail that looked a lot like bravery, that looked a lot like you were going to finally give in to your biggest desires and wildest dreams. 

You moved closer to him, taking slow, purposeful steps, until you circled around him and kneeled in front of him, in between his legs, placing on hand on each knee to help you, and you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered as you noticed the goosebumps on his skin where you touched him. 

You looked at him intently, wanting to show him that you meant it, that you were in this, that there was no doubt in your mind, no wavering in your resolve.

“Neteyam… I want you to fuck me. I’ve needed you, ached for you since the moment on the beach, since you apologised, since you were kind to me and showed me there’s more to life than men who take and take until there’s nothing left. That there’s more to love than what I’ve known all my life. That when it’s right, you’ll know it in your gut, you’ll know it in the way your whole body reacts like it’s been set on fire, or like it’s been set free. 

I should have called it off the second I knew I started having feelings for another. I was afraid, afraid of the consequences, afraid of breaking people’s hearts, afraid of broken expectations and unfulfilled bonds, but I am not anymore. I’m not afraid anymore, the only thing I am afraid of is living without knowing this feeling, living without knowing I’ve done everything in my power to give in to you.

You told me one day I’ll beg you to fuck me. So here I am. I am begging you to fuck me. To take me. To show me all the things I know only you can. The things I only want you to.” 

Neteyam’s expression turned wild and fervent, and you felt the growl he let out deep within you, deep in your core. His hand went to your jaw, that he brought closer to his face, so close, your eyes were struggling to focus on him, and the tint of green in his yellow eyes. You found yourself tracing each gleaming dot on his face, each stripe that marked his skin like a battle scar, his full lips that were parted, the deep breath that came out through them and into you, and you inhaled deeply, closing your eyes, allowing yourself to drown in the weight of his presence, in the weight of the feelings he brought out of you. 

“Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me. You have no idea what I’ll do to you. I told you you will beg me to fuck you, but baby girl, when I do it, I’ll do it until you’ll beg me to stop. Until I’ve made you come so many times, until you’re so drunk on my cock you can’t see straight anymore.” 

“But not tonight. I don’t know what happened in the time you went away, but we are doing this the right way this time. I won’t risk losing you again. You can sleep it off, sleep the drink off and the night off, sleep Aonung off, and tomorrow, if you’re ready and you’ll still want me, I’ll be here for you, and I’ll be yours forever.” 

You whined as he let your jaw go free and your mind twirled with images of his words come to life, burned in your imagination forever, gnawing at you to make them come true. 

“But I want you now. And I know you want me to, I can see it in your eyes. I’m here, I’m begging you, isn’t that what you wanted?” 

“That is what I wanted, just when you’re sober and not reeling from Aonung’s mistakes. Come, I’ll take you home.” 

You woke up dazed and confused, needing a long while before realising you were back in your marui, back to the comfort of your sleeping mat and loosely wrapped in thin covers. You slowly rose, quickly regretting it, as the motion made you dizzy and nauseous and want to reconsider every moment that made it so this was your current life. Flashes of last night and all the hurt it brought with it started appearing in front of your eyes, furthering your sullen mood and unhappy state. So much happened, so much that you would give anything to forget.

As the world settled a little around you, you noticed a little trinket on your mat, next to where you lay your head. It was a bracelet, you noted in shock. A beautiful, intricate bracelet, crafted with a technique and materials characteristic of the Omatikaya.

Neteyam…

You immediately removed the bracelet that was already on your arm and swapped it for the one you were holding tightly in your palm, and tried to not think what a perfect allegory this was, how this was the beginning of your new life. The beginning of new love. 

Your body loved the touch of the breeze as it caressed your skin, soft and tender, like a lover. It was necessary, like the air going in and out of your lungs, keeping you alive, allowing you to keep going. You tried your best to relax, tried your best to remove the anger and anguish for one man, need and ache for another, both of which felt like poison coursing through your veins, and tried to replace it with other, less intense emotions, like the relief of knowing, despite the hurt and the pain, that you could finally be free of Aonung, free for the first time in your life to make your own decisions, to live outside of the expectations and the burden placed on you since you were young, free to follow your heart, free to grow and be yourself, and to discover who that is to begin with. 

You felt entranced by the beauty of the nature surrounding you, that you grew up with, that you’ve experienced every day of your life and yet somehow never took for granted, never fully got used to it, as you allowed your feet to feel the soft grainy sand beneath them and the water splashing over your ankles and calves as you walked on the beach that felt like your safe space, like your haven in the storm. You thought about Neteyam and his words, about the bracelet he left on your pillow and how it felt against your arm where it now resided and it will continue to for as long as you could help it, how even this gift was a perfect metaphor of your past and present. Aonung’s bracelet was beautiful and opulent, with rare stones and shells, with what he thought you wanted, but in reality, it was harsh and it scratched at your skin every time it was on your body, leaving friction burns and scratches that left you bruised and bloodied if you weren’t careful. When you lost it, you didn’t realise it, you just felt freer and weightless. Neteyam’s bracelet was understated and carefully crafted, with soft leather and round, polished pebbles, and it felt like velvet touching your skin, it felt safe and healing. It felt like the calming nature around you, like the warmth of the sun caressing your skin. It felt like new beginnings.

As your mind wandered over the events of the past few weeks, and those of the past few years, you came to the conclusion that this, this whole mess, is not about Neteyam or Aonung. Not anymore. It might have started that way, it might have been what set everything in motion, but it wasn’t the whole picture. This wasn’t about two men. It was about you and your life, your past and your future, and who you wanted to be moving forward. It was about realising that the shackles that bound you to one destiny were loose and rusted, and with a little force, you could be free of them, free at last to be more than who your chains led you to believe. The dark feelings that possessed you made you aware that there was more to you than what you thought, than what everybody thought. The ache and need you felt for Neteyam showed you you were a woman now, a woman who wanted to learn and explore her sexuality and learn what makes her body tremble, what makes it convulse in pleasure. Kissing him and letting him explore your body allowed you to see you were capable of wrongdoings, you weren’t just a two-dimensional being with only positive and light coming out of you, but you had a darkness in you, you had the capability to be selfish and put your own needs first, something you have never done before. The anger that enveloped you when you heard Aonung cheating on you, the thirst for revenge and vindication, the way you told Neteyam that you wanted him, showed you that you were strong, that despite your and everybody else’s view that you were frail and weak, and not a warrior, there was something in you - a power, strong and unflinching, an infinite untapped potential that you swore you would get to know in time. 

You were so deep in your own thoughts, that the tug of your arm that spun you around almost knocked you to the ground, and you had to swallow the vomit that rose in your mouth at the harshness with which you were handled. 

“We need to talk.” 

As soon as the world stopped spinning around you, you were able to make out Aonung’s body and his face, sullen and tired, and you knew instantly he was battling a mean hangover, much worse than yours. You found yourself smirking at his state, hopeful that he was suffering and revelling in knowing he did. 

“I’ve been looking for you for fucking ages.”

“Well, you found me. What do you want?” 

Aonung’s eyes went wide at your words. He wasn’t used to you talking in such a way, determined, devoid of tears or quivering lips, of soft words and a trembling voice. 

“What do you mean what do I want? You fucked off with another man last night, with the tree hugger of all people, and you’re asking me what I want? I want you to explain to me what he was doing there, and why you chose to leave.” 

You were so shocked by the nonsense coming out of his mouth, so flabbergasted that the only thing you could think to do is laugh. A crazy, maniacal laugh that continued until there was no more breath in your lungs. 

“You know? I knew you were a selfish, self-involved, self-centered jerk for so long, and yet I was continuously blinded by my own desire to see the best in people, the best in you. I held a flicker of hope that the kid I knew was still there, somewhere deep down inside of your shallow soul, but I see now I was blind. You want to talk? Fine, let’s talk. How long have you been fucking another girl, Aonung?” 

You watched as Aonung’s mouth opened and then closed, and did so a few more times, while he was trying to come up with an excuse or an explanation, and you felt so free, so weightless, it was like you were floating. No more guilt, no more angst plaguing you, just a light, soft feeling, like a warm hug or sleeping on a cloud. 

“Was yesterday the first night? Was it a drunken mistake? Did causing me pain, almost forcing yourself on me turn you on so much that you just needed to do it desperately, that you couldn’t help yourself?”

Your questions were once again met with nothing, no sounds, not even a twitch of the ear or of a facial muscle, no hint that your words were even registering in his mind. 

“Come on, Aonung. You said you wanted to talk, let’s talk. Did an Akula get your tongue?” 

“Fine, if you don’t want to talk, how about I talk? We’re over, Aonung. So, so over. You want to know why Neteyam came to get me yesterday? Because he’s a better man than you will ever be. Because even on your best day, you aren’t even a fraction of him on his worst day. Because in a few weeks, he has managed to make me feel things you never have, because in just a few weeks, he showed me there’s more to me than what you led me to believe, more to love than what I grew up thinking. And you know what else? I let him do things to me you could only dream of. I let him touch me in ways you never will, let him pleasure me in ways you couldn’t if you tried. And it was amazing. And I will do it again and again, while you will live your life knowing you blew the best thing that ever happened to you.” 

Unsurprisingly, that seemed to wake him up from whatever trance he found himself in. The surprise clear on his face made way for panic, a quick brush of sadness that settled finally on anger, deep-seeded anger, manifested through flared nostrils and shallow breaths. 

“What did you say?” 

“You heard me. Good luck, Aonung. I hope one day you grow the fuck up, but it won’t be for me to help you through it. Not anymore.” 

“You’re such a fucking slut, aren’t you? You act all high and mighty with me, refusing me what’s mine, what was MY right, and you go give it up to some asshole you just met? I guess it’s true what they say, it’s the quiet girls. Always the quiet girls.” 

You tried to not let it affect you, his words, his horrible words that somehow manage to pierce through you like knifes, and kept your gaze steady on his face contorting in anger. 

“Leave, Aonung. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” 

You turned around to follow you own advice, but found yourself again being yanked back like a rag doll by his much larger hands wrapping around your arms and pulling. 

“I’m not fucking done, you sl-“ 

The bone crunching noise that rang in your ear as Neteyam’s fist made contact with Aonung’s nose was weirdly satisfying, and you watched as the Metkayina man was knocked straight to the ground, blood pouring from his face and dripping down his chest. The impact was so powerful that his blood splattered over your face, painting you in red spilling drops. Whatever form of sympathy you felt for Aonung left your body the moment he called you a slut for doing something he was doing behind your back just a night ago, while not taking any accountability or exhibiting any ounce of remorse. You felt a sick satisfaction, watching him try to gather himself, hand on his nose, forehead scrunched up in pain and confusion.  Neteyam put his body in between you and Aonung, taking a few steps in his direction. 

“Leave. Now. If you ever, ever touch her again, if you ever look the wrong way at her again, the next thing I break is both your legs.” His voice was low and unflinching, calm and unperturbed by any emotion. He was scary. So scary, you felt that voice in every fibre of your being, and you assumed Aonung did, too. You watched as he got to his feet slowly, and a little wobbly, turned around and started walking away.

“I would tell your parents it was unfortunate, but it didn’t work out. That you felt like I wasn’t the right person for you and you felt bad stringing me along. That you fell in love with someone else. You choose, but I would hurry. Unless you want me to tell them what happened, but then you might not get to keep your family jewels, and I’m sure the girl you were fucking behind my back last night would be very disappointed about that. Good riddance, Aonung.” 

You couldn’t stop staring at Neteyam, at this man who drove you to the point of madness, who made you want to do things that Eywa herself would cower in shame at, whose back was tensed with each deep breath he took as he watched Aonung leave like a wounded animal, like the coward he was. The adrenaline was coursing through your veins, making you light up with excitement and need, making you pant with the aftershocks of the fight, with animalistic desire at how powerful and forceful, how brave and imposing he was. As Aonung disappeared from sight, and from your mind forever, you watched as he turned to face you, a desperate wild look haunting him. He approached you and you were able to take note of the blood on his face, that adorned him like war paint, and on his knuckles as his hands found their way to your face and hair. 

“Are you alright?” 

You just nodded, too overcome with his presence and all it invoked in you to be able to speak. 

“I’m sorry you had to see that. That you had to go through that.” 

You shook your hand and placed a hand on his, smiling softly. 

“It’s over. It’s finally over.” 

You couldn’t wait any longer, would not wait any longer, and you swiftly closed the gap between you and kissed him. Kissed him the way you have dreamt since the moment you saw him on the beach, kissed him like your life depended on it, like your sanity hung in the shaky balance between his touch and your body, like he was everything. The taste of blood on his lips did nothing to deter you, emboldening you instead, and he moaned in your mouth before deepening the kiss, lifting you in his arms effortlessly until your legs wrapped around him. He only broke the kiss to replace your mouth with your collarbones and chest, and you threw your head back as his touch brought fluttering in your stomach and throbbing in your core, that was calling for him, begging him to fill you. 

Neteyam knelt slowly with you still in his arms, handling you like you were no heavier than a child. His strength and physique never failed to amaze you, and right now, neither did the bulge that brushed against you as he guided you onto the ground. You propped yourself up onto your elbows and stared at it, at him, until he smirked and lifted your gaze onto his own by a touch of your cheek. 

“Like what you see, princess?” 

You gulped and nodded meekly. He took your hand in his and placed your palm on his hard erection, and you couldn’t help the way you started feeling him, tracing its curve and girth, or the soft moan that escaped you at its feel, at how tight the loincloth was stretched around it, at how big he felt, at how empty your brain was at the thought of it slamming into you over and over until you saw white.

 

He spoke lowly, teasingly, while reaching for your loincloth, that he loosened and removed without any effort. 

“Feel that, baby girl? It’s all for you.”

He pushed you on your back by placing a hand on your chest and used a little force to spread your legs, and you were puny in his hands, malleable to his touch, willing to be whatever it was he wanted you to be. He swallowed as he took you in, admiring you while his fingers trailed over your folds, reaching down south until they circled another little puckered hole, eliciting a small gasp from you at the prospect of what was coming. 

“All for you. All for this pretty pussy, and your tight little ass, for this fuckable mouth.” 

“So, so fuckable, I don’t even know what to start with.” He pushed two fingers in you without any warning and you dropped to the ground and arched your back almost on command, so excited to finally get some release, any release, like you have needed for so long. Soon enough, it became too little, and you found yourself needing more, much much more. 

The bucking of your hips was met with a mocking chuckle and words that made you whine in frustration.

“Not yet, baby. Not yet. You’re not ready for my cock yet. We need to get you ready, and you need to be a good girl and get me ready. Come on, on your knees, my love. Gonna fuck this pretty face, first… what do you think? Do you like that idea, pretty girl?” 

You moaned at his words, but did what you were told, rising on your knees, noticing dripping going down your leg as you did so, and came face to face with his hips as he rose in all his perplexing, over 9 foot glory. Being so close, so close with the bulge you were just caressing earlier, knowing faintly what was hiding underneath, made you almost vicious, and you found yourself reaching for his loincloth, untying it hurriedly, your urgency making Neteyam scoff lightly, patting the top of your head in a gentle and surprisingly loving motion.  

“So eager, my love. Eager to get stuffed with my cock, aren’t you?” 

As the loincloth fell to the floor, so did the rest of whatever pathetic inhibitions you had left, taking in his length, that was even bigger than what it felt like under the loincloth, so big in fact, you were genuinely concerned at how it was ever going to fit in your mouth, fit in you. Your wide eyes didn’t go unnoticed by the Omatikayan, who lifted your chin so you could meet his gaze, and whatever expression he was met with made a low growl emerge from his lips, and you felt yourself clench around nothing. 

You couldn’t wait any longer without his touch, without feeling him, so you tentatively grabbed his cock in your hand, struggling to make your fingers meet as you wrapped around his base, and you started stroking him up and down, all the while grinding on the ground, trying to get any relief from the enormous pressure building in your core. Primal curiosity took over you as you closed your lips around his tip, dying to feel the taste of the liquid spilling from it and you moaned around his cock as it was better than you could have ever foreseen. The sound and vibration made Neteyam push your head closer to his body, and you gagged slightly as his impressive length made its way down your throat. 

“That’s it, baby. Look how well you’re taking my cock. You’re doing so well, princess.”

Without any warning, he started a slow pace in and out of your mouth, holding your head in place with his hands, and fuck, you loved how he was using you as his own personal sex doll. It was so obscene, so filthy, so so good. He felt so good in your mouth, his sweet taste flooding your every sense, welcoming him further in, until your nose was touching his hip bone and his balls were slapping against your chin with every thrust. You wrapped your hands around his thighs, propping yourself to get a better angle, to be able to suck him off the way you wanted, the way you knew he wanted.

“Look how you’re dry humping the ground with my cock so deep in your mouth. You want to be fucked, don’t you, baby? Such a slut for my cock, aren’t you?” 

His unrelenting pace made tears appear in the corner of your eyes, spilling down your cheek, mixing with the saliva pooled around your mouth, that dripped all over his balls. 

“You’ve never looked prettier than when you’re getting your face fucked. So pretty, princess. Those fucking eyes looking up at me, all innocent, so wild, so - fuck, you will be the death of me.” 

“Gonna let me come in this pretty mouth, huh? Want to suck me dry, baby girl?” 

You mewled approvingly around his cock, hallowing your cheeks and pushing your tongue against him to drive him to his release sooner, wanting, needing to feel him, to own him, a piece of him, like he owned you, like he would - forever. 

“Ohh, fuuck - fuck, princess, just like that. It’s like you were born to suck my cock. Doing so well for me, baby.” 

Hot spurts of thick liquid came shooting down your throat and the deep guttural groans he released as the orgasm washed over him was almost enough to bring you to your own - you’ve never heard something more erotic, something more salacious, something better, in your life.  

“Good girl.” He slowly removed himself from you and pushed you back into the ground, towering over you, his still fully hard length slapping over your inner thigh haphazardly. “Do you feel what you do to me? Feel how hard I still am for you? I’ll never get enough of this body, princess. You will be dripping in my cum by the time I’m done, this is what being next you does to me.” 

His lips crashed against yours aggressively, and his tongue pushed past your teeth into your mouth, exploring you, tasting himself on your tongue. His cock twitched and brushed your dripping folds and you whimpered in his mouth. He smirked at the sound, and positioned himself alongside your core, started slowly grinding his length on you, teasing you, bringing new tears to your eyes and unintelligible sounds to his ears, that revelled in it, that thrived off of how much of a pitiful, writhing mess you were under him. 

“Please, Neteyam. Please, fuck, f-“ 

“You’re still not ready for me, princess.”

“I-I’m ready, please, I’m so fucking ready!” 

He tutted in disapproval and removed his body from yours, leaving you empty and aching. You tried closing your legs together, but that too was promptly interrupted by his hands, keeping them far apart. He started a torturous ritual of kissing and licking every part of your body he had access to, masterfully avoiding the only places you wanted, needed to be touched. He started with your collarbones, and down your sternum, alongside your abdomen, and hip bone, your thighs, and inner thighs, and you were crying, the pleasure so great, and yet so incomplete it was hurting you, it was turning into pain. 

“Neteyam, I - “

“Hush, baby. Let me take care of you. Let me show you why it couldn’t have been anyone else but me.”

With that, he placed a tender, barely there kiss on your bare pussy, then another one, and another one. His mouth closed around your clit, sucking on it softly, alternating between it and kitten licks, and the rough texture of his tongue made you see stars, made you convulse around his mouth. His tongue moved languidly, drawing numbers on your swollen pussy, pushing into you and lapping at the liquid falling down his chin. You tasted like heaven to him, like a ripened summer fruit, like a flower in spring, blossoming around him, inundating his smell, coating his tongue in its aroma. He loved seeing you like this, all of this, falling apart at the seams in pleasure, tears prodding at your eyes, lips parted and cheeks flushed, chest heaving up and down, hands in his hair, pushing his tongue deeper in your sopping cunt. He loved all of it. 

Two slender, long fingers made their way inside of you, feeling you, curling them to massage the perfect spot, the spot he found last time, the spot he knew would make you come undone, and he couldn’t help the arrogance in his tone as he talked. 

“Come for me, princess. Let me hear how good I make you feel.” 

Your orgasm flushed over you, the most intense feeling you have ever felt, and you now understood why he edged you for so long, and even in your dazed mind, you were grateful that he seemed to know your body better than you knew it yourself. 

He continued licking at your entrance, not wasting a drop of your cum, not when it was better than any liquor, better than any drink he’s ever been fortunate enough to taste. When he finished, he got back on top of you until you were face to face, and you noticed weakly the glistening on his chin as your juices coated it, and the smirk he had on those beautiful lips that was unrelenting. He knew he was amazing, he knew what he was doing to you. 

“See, baby? I know what you need. I’m what you need. Open your mouth.” You did so, no questions asked, and watched as he spit in your mouth, licking your lips in order not to miss anything, humming to yourself as the taste of your own cum registered on your tongue. 

“Feel how good you taste. So fucking good, princess.”

“I think you’ve suffered enough. I think it’s time you get what you deserve for being such a good girl. The best girl.” 

You felt his arm on your abdomen as he reached down and aligned himself with your folds, his bulbous tip rubbing against your warm, aching entrance. Slowly, gently, he starts sinking into you, allowing you to feel each inch, allowing you to take in the delicious stretch, and the feeling of you wrapping around him brought shivers down his spine. The mewls escaping your lips fuelled his hunger for your body, fuelled his need to push you until you were so overstimulated, you were blacking out with him still deep inside your cunt. 

“Eyes on me, baby girl. Look at how deep in you I am, I want you to watch me fuck you.” Neteyam’s cock twitched inside of you at your incredulous expression, at your wide eyes and fucked out face as your stomach deformed slightly, a bulge appearing every time he pushed deep into your cervix. It drives him to the point of insanity, that look, and he starts a maddening pace, quick and rough, rutting into you deeply, watching as your tits bounce with every thrust. 

Your mind is blank of any thoughts and full of immeasurable pleasure, unholy sounds escaping your lips like a prayer, like a litany to keep going, to not stop, because fuck, this is the best feeling of your life, being so owned, so free, so helpless, so in control of your own desires, so full, full to the brim with pleasure, with love, with his cock. You start to see stars, as the now familiar feeling draws closer, and your entire body starts shaking in preparation for the wave you knew was about to hit you any second. His thrusts are unrelenting, hitting your cervix mercilessly as your walls tighten around him, wanting to keep him, to never let him go.

“That’s it, baby. You’re clenching my cock so tightly, want to come all over me, princess? Want to cover my dick with that sweet cum?”

“Yes! Fuck, yes! Yes yes yes!” 

Your eyes roll in the back of your head as the orgasm drowns you in overwhelming, toe-curling sensations, and you start doubting you will ever see or hear properly ever again, as the world is enveloped in a white, over-exposed glow and your ears lose their ability to discern the waves and the birds flying above you. 

“We’re not done, my love.” You barely registered his manoeuvring your now limp body, turning you upside down, so that your chest was flush against the ground as his hands lifted your ass up, his cock once more prodding at your entrance, and you whine, crying as you are barely able to understand what is going on, much less able to appreciate the way he’s spreading your ass cheeks, massaging them slowly, purposefully, while he sinks back into your wet, sensitive, throbbing cunt. 

“Neteyam, I can’t anymore… ’s too much.”

“You can, baby. One more for me, come on. I promised you I’d fuck you til you can’t see straight anymore, and I don’t think we’re there yet.” 

“You say you can’t, but look how good this pussy’s taking me, look how it moulds around my cock, how you’re squeezing me. You’re so good for me, princess. I can’t believe I get to do this, can’t believe you’re mine.”

A slap on your ass makes you yelp in pain, waking you up like from a daydream. 

“I need to hear you say it, my love.”

“’m yours, Neteyam. Yours.” 

“That’s right, you’re mine. And I’m yours. You own me.” 

You can’t help the way you instinctively push back on Neteyam, can’t help the way, even in this fucked-out state, you’re still searching for more, you still need him deeper, need him to fuck you dumb, fuck you until you’re passed out on the sand. You match his animalistic thrusts the best you can, moaning loudly, wildly, as each of them takes the breath out of your lungs, as each of them fills you up to the brim, as each of them takes you closer to that third release. 

“M-more. I need more.”

“You filthy girl. Such a slut for me, aren’t you? My little slut, drunk on my cock.” 

You gasp as his thumb traces your asshole, then slowly removes it and brings his hand to your face, his other hand caressing your lower back. 

“Open your mouth, pretty girl.” You did as you were told, and he pushed two fingers inside your mouth and down you throat, and you sucked on them, allowing your tongue to trace in between them, coating them with your saliva. 

“Good girl.”

He moved his hand back to your ass again, and slowly pushes one finger in, ignoring the mewling sounds spilling past your lips. He started moving his finger in and out of you slowly, adding the other, all the while rutting into you like a rabid animal in heat, pushing you forward with each thrust, holding you tightly by your hips, leaving imprints on your sensitive skin that you knew would be bruised when this was all over. You loved it. 

The feeling of his cock burrowing deep inside your core and his fingers moving in an out of your ass slowly was too much, and you were bracing for the snapping of the coil that has been tightening inside of you, knowing that when it snapped, so will you, and your last remaining consciousness. 

“You gonna let me cum in this pussy? Want me to fill you up real nice, paint those pretty pink walls white?” 

You tried to answer, but only ugly whimpers came out, and by the sound of his melodic laugh, you knew he took that as a yes. 

“Come on, princess. Be a good girl and milk my cock dry.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, as the orgasm took everything out of you, and you would take everything out of him, as a result. He was right. When he was done, you were so drunk on his cock, you really couldn’t see anymore. And as he lowered his body on yours, resting his chest on your back and peppering small, gentle kisses on the back of your neck, whispering sweet nothings and telling you how good you did, you knew you were excited not be able to see straight every day, for the rest of your life. 

thank you again to everyone who likes, replies and reblogs and asked to be tagged, i love you all x

@jackiehollanderr @afro-hispwriter @sanranrin @universal-s1ut @neteyamforlife @arminsgfloll @avatar-on-top @neteyamsyawntu @farleyis @jjkclub @doulcha @adaiasafira @teyamsmate @ang-taylorsversion @junnniiieee07 @americanbeauty-americanpsycho @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @netemoon @shayligames-blog @hotmenwhoree @yan-ghost-yan @iikatsukii @rgbsona @moneyoverl0v3

[unluckywisher]

-> Audiovisual references <- -> AO3 Link <-

Summary: You go with Nero to a Wanderer Convention (the LaDS equivalent of Comic-Con) and shenanigans ensue after you win a cosplay contest...

Content: MDNI Porn with plot, hanging out with Nero, tension between you two, a bunch of cliche situations, Carter cameo because yes, experienced dom!fem!Reader, virgin extremely sub!Nero, coworkers to lovers, handjob, fingering, blowjob, p in v sex with protection (cowgirl to cuddling), overstimulation (crying), pussy eating, pegging, aftercare.

Word count: ~15k (this got out of my hands so fast) (+ extra at the end)

A/N: I wrote this for me and the other 3 freaks in the fandom who like Nero. I had so many ideas and scenes in mind but it honestly felt like too much for ONE fic so... Don't be surprised if I write more stuff for Nero in the future. I'm far from done. Mwah <3

There was a stillness in the air, uncomfortable for anyone who could feel it. In this case, most of the Hunters in the room could, except for the one who had caused it.

Nero had barged into the floor where you all worked, waving two pieces of paper high in the air, yelling, “I got free tickets for the WandererCon, and they let me bring a +1, so who wants to come!?”

It had been so out of character for him, to be so loud and cheerful, that you all had turned from your desks to stare at him. The question now was, who wanted to go with him? He was the only one that liked Wanderers to that extent.

And so, a silence fell across the room. His expression started to falter, realizing how embarrassing it was to yell such a thing to his coworkers, and the lifted hand with the tickets began to plummet.

“Me! I wanna go!” You jumped, feeling nothing but pity for the poor guy.

He brightened up again, “Really?”

You walked up to him, giving Tara a look, and nodded. “Yeah, when is it?”

Back to his usual introversion, but motivated by your display of interest, he presented the ticket to you. “This weekend… It lasts the whole two days, b-but! We can go at whatever day and time is best for you…”

You took the ticket. It was a bright blue piece of laminated paper with a drawing of a chibi Wanderer waving glow sticks, the words ‘Come wander through WandererCon! Weekend pass for 1. Only valid if presented with its twin ticket.’ were written in glittery white. He was holding an identical one.

There was a choice to make. Clearly, Nero wanted to spend the whole weekend at this event, which would mean sacrificing all of yours for his happiness. Would it really be that bad? It was a once-a-year event, and the guy didn’t really have friends outside of forums to go to this with.

“I’m completely free this weekend, so let’s make the most of it!” You smiled.

Blush creeped up his face, mouth opening and closing a couple of times, fighting the urge to assure you that - No, it’s really okay if you don’t want to spend the whole weekend there - because damn it, he did actually want to do that, and since you were offering so nicely…

“Okay!” He finally exclaimed, clutching his ticket tight.

“We can discuss the details later, we have to go back to work or Jenna will think we’re slacking.”

“R-right, yeah, of course…” He stumbled over to his desk, glancing at you once over his shoulder before disappearing behind his wall of monitors.

On your way back to yours, Tara rolled his chair closer, whispering, “That was nice of you. You know, I doubt he would have complained if you had only offered an hour of your time.”

“It’s fine. I really didn’t have plans for this weekend, anyways.”

“Have fun. And good luck with Nero… He’s probably going to be very excitable.”

You chuckled. “Thanks. I’ll buy you something.”

Hours later, it was time to head back home.

You turned off your computer and walked over to Nero’s. He was typing up a storm and didn’t notice you approaching. An extensive document analyzing the material and composition of Wanderer’s body-formed blades, and whether or not they can be considered an exoskeleton. You recalled Jenna asking for such a report earlier, but you didn’t expect a whole dissertation about it. Squinting, you could see that there were… 143 pages of text, all written today.

“Damn, fast fingers…” You muttered, before realizing you had said it out loud.

The typing stopped abruptly. “What?” He swiveled in his chair, face pale in shock, not quite meeting your eyes.

“Nothing! I just, um, came here to say ‘I’ll text you later to discuss what we’ll do tomorrow’, so, yeah, message delivered. I’ll leave now.” You waved goodbye, smiling awkwardly.

“Okay.” He nodded, waving back. He was still recovering from your words, though he couldn’t tell if he had heard correctly.

You arrived home and sighed. Were you truly ready for the activities of the next two days? Only time could tell.

After having dinner, now relaxing in your living room, you opened the messaging app. You couldn’t remember the exact moment you two had exchanged phone numbers, but this would be the first time you had texted each other, and the revelation made you strangely self-conscious about what your introductory message should be. Shaking your head, you went for something simple.

-> CLICK HERE TO PLAY THE TEXT MESSAGES! <-

Your patience be damned, you were determined to help Nero have a good time at the convention no matter what. Setting the phone down, you walked to your closet and rummaged around for the Lumiere costume, which was pleasantly clean and ready to be worn.

Goal in mind, you went to bed, ready for whatever the weekend would bring.

The alarm went off, signaling the start of your (most probably) eventful day. You rolled out of bed, had breakfast, took a shower, and commenced the Lumierification. 

In theory, it was simple, but it took you a minute to manage to fully zip up the dress since you couldn’t reach, and the thigh highs refused to stay on your thighs until you used fashion tape, not to mention the mask kept tilting to one side.

Eventually, everything was perfectly in place, hair and make up as well. Just in time, too, since the clock now read 10:30. You grabbed your bag and made your way out.

Parked outside was an unremarkable small gray car, but that was the last thing in your thoughts. Leaning on it with his arms crossed, stood a perfect recreation of a Luminivore, so much so that your first instinct was to reach for your gun - even if you weren’t carrying it.

Whatever cool and composed attitude Nero had went right out of the window once he saw you approach, uncrossing and crossing his arms again only to uncross them and scratch the back of his neck, which he couldn’t, because of the costume, so he let them drop and shifted on his feet.

“You- You said-,” he coughed, sound muffled through the headpiece, “I thought you were going to wear-”

You looked down at yourself. Ooooh, right. He was probably expecting a male version of the costume.

“My bad, sorry for the confusion,” you waved a hand in the air, chuckling, “I guess I’m a female version of Lumiere. Is that okay?”

“Okay?” he said a little louder than intended, “Yes, of course- Of course it’s okay.”

You stepped closer to look at his costume. “This looks amazing, by the way.”

He froze.

“Don’t tell me you drove here wearing that helmet, though, because… That seems dangerous.”

He quickly shook his head. “N-no, I didn’t, I just wanted to show you the whole thing put together…”

“Ah, good,” you lifted your hand to touch one of the glowing ridges on his arm, “You did a great job. Looks just like the real thing.”

“Thanks,” he squeaked out.

You clapped your hands together and smiled. “Well, let’s go! We have a great day ahead of us!”

The noise made him straighten up. He nodded and reached up to take off the headpiece. Under it, he looked like always, glasses lopsided and hair a bit ruffled from wearing the Wanderer’s head, but nothing different. You also took note of the red hue on his cheeks, but you attributed it to the same cause as the others. He smiled and gestured for you to get in the car.

The drive was mostly silent, except for the music coming from the radio. Nero had asked you if you wanted to put on your own playlist because ‘his music taste was bad’, but you shook your head, so he settled for the radio. Otherwise, neither of you talked.

You decided to look up what the event’s activities were. He had probably planned it out already, but you were still curious.

A lecture on Wanderers by a Xander scientist, a card tournament - you didn’t know they sold cards, a Meet and Greet with some renowned Hunters, a cosplay contest, a Twinkle Toys plushie reveal, a DIY Protocore candy station… The list went on. It seemed like people took this more seriously than you thought. There were also many merch stands all over the enclosure.

One of the activities stood out to you, though.

“Are you going to enter the cosplay contest?”

He gripped the steering wheel, “N-no. Why are you asking..?”

“You should! You have a shot at winning with yours.”

“Mmm… I don’t know. I’d have to go up a stage, with so many people looking…”

“It’s up to you. In my opinion, you could win, but I might be biased because we’re friends,” you giggled.

He chuckled, brow a bit furrowed.

An hour later, you arrived at the place where the convention would be held. It turned out that there was a parking lot reserved for those attending, so you didn’t have to go in circles looking for an empty spot.

You got out of the car and stretched, looking around. Quite a few people - some in costume, some not - were already gathering at the entrance.

Nero put the headpiece back on and walked a few steps towards the crowd, before stopping and turning to make sure you were following. He tilted his head in a “coming?” gesture.

Sliding your tote bag up your shoulder, you skipped along.

A queue rapidly formed, with a coordination you didn’t expect from a group of sleep deprived nerds. Some of them looked at you - more like ogled at you. Great.

“QuantumSocialite?” A random guy approached Nero, calling him by his username. His friends gasped and whispered among themselves.

“...Yes?”

“Dude, it’s me, LuxLuxLucis.”

“The Lightchasers mod? Oh, wow!”

“You really wore the costume! It looks insane. You’re a legend. The material looks so accurate, how did you do it?”

“Thank you. I analyzed many Luminivore pictures and samples of their chitinous exterior, then compared what materials would be best to use without risking the quality while…”

Aaand just like that, you stopped paying attention. Instead, you noticed how this guy’s friends kept whispering stuff and giggling while looking at Nero. They were giving you major bad vibes. Pretending to be still listening to the incomprehensible yapping, you shuffled closer and eavesdropped on what they were saying.

“...paid her to come along with him.”

“For sure, he’s chronically online and he made that costume, there’s no way a female is hanging out with him willingly.”

“Wow, you guys know a lot about Wanderers,” you said pointedly, joining Nero’s conversation, “I’m actually learning a lot. I’m really happy I was the one that got to be your +1 and not our coworkers,” you gave him a warm smile.

The whispering ceased, now replaced by confused looks. He was completely still, his thoughts a mystery since his face was hidden.

“If you want to learn about Wanderers, you’re in good hands,” said the guy he was talking to, “He’s the most knowledgeable in that area.”

“I know! He really is. I’m really lucky we came together.”

Nero looked down at his clawed gloves, fidgeting with them. The two trash talkers were staring in anger, which you interpreted as jealousy since they were most likely projecting. Suck it.

Just then, an announcement rang out, stating the opening of the gates and the inauguration of the convention. Everyone got their tickets ready and began entering the place.

People were getting a bit pushy and the crowd got thick around you, so you hooked your arm around Nero’s to avoid getting lost or trampled, feeling safer next to his bulky costume. He jerked his head towards you, then realized why you were standing that close to him, and folded his arm to let you hold onto him better. An imperceptible tremble ran across his body.

You both walked to the gates and presented your tickets.

“Alright, let’s see… Couples’ weekend passes… Everything looks in order! Have fun,” the staff member smiled.

“...couples’?” You asked when he was out of earshot.

“W-wait, n-no, I- I didn’t, I mean-,” he gestured wildly with his hands, “They w-were given to me, you remem-ber, how I said, I said I got them for f-free? But I didn’t want to uhh… Um, to make it weird! At the office! S-so I skipped the fact that they were for, uh, couples…”

You chuckled, “Nero, it’s okay, I was asking out of pure curiosity. I have nothing against them being for couples.”

“O-oh. Okay. Right. Ha…” He visibly relaxed at your reassurance.

“So, what do you want to do first?”

“I was thinking we could walk around and see all the stands. Should be enough time until the first scheduled event…”

“Sure! Let’s go.”

It was a big space with rows of stalls selling merch, but also ‘official’ booths, including a Hunter’s equipment showcase, one for the show Super Hunters - with exclusive art never seen before, another with Lumiere memorabilia straight from Linkon’s History museum, Wanderers’ life-sized replicas…

Obviously, you visited all of these with Nero. Even took a picture of him next to the Luminivore replica per his request. It was cute seeing him struggle to find a good pose.

“The lecture is going to start soon… I’m going to head over there, but if you’re not interested, you don’t have to go.”

“The Xander lecture? No, I’m going with you,” you said with determination. You didn’t tell him that it was because you thought they were shady as hell and this was a good opportunity to get further information about them, but it’s not like he needed to know.

With Nero’s planning, you managed to get a good seat at the lecture hall before it filled up. He took off the headpiece to be able to see better and to avoid bothering the people behind him, placing it on his lap. Both your bags rested between your feet.

A staff member appeared, microphone in hand. “Hello everyone, and welcome to Xander Sciences’ lecture on the nature of Wanderers. Without further delay, let me introduce the man who will be speaking today, Dr. Carter!”

Everyone clapped as the man himself walked onstage. You were immediately on high alert, eyes trained on him.

“Thank you, thank you. It’s a pleasure to be here,” he took the microphone.

The next hour was spent picking at every word he said, trying to find any kind of incriminating loose threads, but it was clear the lecture was well rehearsed and none of what he said was useful to you, even if the way he talked about Wanderers put you on edge.

At the end, you grabbed Nero’s arm and pulled him along, “I want to talk to Dr. Carter for a moment.”

“Okay,” he followed, cheeks pink.

The rest of the attendants walked to the exit, which gave you a clear path towards the stage’s stairs.

“Dr. Carter!” You called out, waving your hand up.

He stopped for a moment, surprised to see you there. He smiled, “Ah, Miss Hunter, it’s a pleasure to see you again. I didn’t know I’d have such esteemed listeners in the audience today,” he extended his hand to shake yours. You didn’t.

“It’s an honor to meet you in person, Dr. Carter, that was a very insightful lecture,” said Nero.

“The honor is mine. You seem to be a Wanderer enthusiast,” he looked at his costume.

“He’s my coworker,” you cut in, putting a little more emphasis on ‘my’ than you intended, “don’t bother trying to recruit him for anything.”

“As cold as ever I see, Miss Hunter. It was a simple observation, I didn’t even say anything.”

“Why did you decide to give a lecture here, Dr. Carter?” You ignored his remarks.

“Why not? I’ve done a lot of research on Wanderers, and I thought it’d be best to share my knowledge with those seeking it.”

You were sure there was something more to this than that, but you doubted he would outright admit it. It could even be something much simpler, shameless Xander Sciences publicity to make people interested in being under their care, whatever that entailed. You hoped people wouldn’t fall for it.

He continued, “Since you’re here, you wouldn’t by chance be interested in a quick chat between us, would you?” He took half a step closer.

You felt a weight around your shoulders, pulling you back. Nero, who had been silently watching, spoke with a frown.

“She clearly wants nothing to do with you. What do you think you’re doing?”

You looked at him, eyebrows raised. He had a very determined look on his face, one you had only seen when someone insulted Lumiere in his vicinity, and to be honest, he was kind of intimidating. Kind of.

The tension could be cut with a knife. They glared at each other for what felt like an eternity. If it was your turn to say anything, they were out of luck, because you had no idea what to say. Finally, Carter stepped back and slid his hands in his pockets.

“Have fun in the convention, Miss Hunter. And your Wanderer pet too,” he smirked.

He walked away, leaving you both huffing at his arrogance. No, actually, as you looked at Nero, you discovered you were the only one huffing. He was tomato red.

“You had more things planned for today, right?” You snapped him out of it.

“A-ah, yes,” he pushed his glasses up, “let’s go have lunch.”

There were food trucks stationed outside of the convention center. The walk helped Nero calm down, though he couldn’t seem to look you in the eye. He wished he could put the headpiece back on, but it was a pointless action since you were about to eat and he’d have to take it off again.

After some deciding, you settled for skewers of deep fried chicken that were easy to eat standing up. You chose the honey sauce, he chose the sweet and sour sauce. For something so simple, it was delicious - the queue you had to wait was definitely worth it.

“Do you want to try mine?” You held up a skewer to him.

His eyes darted between it and your face, blinking.

“I mean, we got different flavors, so…” You shrugged.

At that, he shook his head like he was getting rid of his thoughts, then nodded.

“Okay. I’ll trade you- Mhmph!?”

You didn’t give him a chance to finish his sentence - ‘one of my skewers for one of yours’ - not that you had heard the beginning of it in the first place. All you heard was him agreeing to try yours. 

You shoved the skewer into his mouth.

It took him a moment to understand what just had happened, but when it dawned on him, he turned red again. You were confused as to why he was staring at you instead of biting.

“...”

“...”

He bit down and gently pushed your hand away.

“How is it? Good, right?”

“Y-yes…”

“Can I try yours now?”

He lifted a skewer to give it to you in hand, but you-

“Aaah…” You opened your mouth expectantly.

The chances of him surviving this weekend decreased with every minute he spent by your side. Alas, he moved the skewer closer to your mouth with a trembling hand. You met him halfway and bit down on it, causing him to flinch.

You tore off a piece of the fried chicken, relishing in the taste with a “mmmm” as you chewed. By this point, he was fully looking away, covering his mouth with his gloved hand; it was so difficult to keep a clear mind.

“Yours is really good too!”

He hummed in response.

After finishing the food, a few people in cosplay walked past, followed by more, and more groups. The contest must have been about to start.

“You’re really not going to participate?” You asked.

Nero shook his head. He had put the helmet back on, to feel less ‘exposed’ more than anything.

“Is there any way I could convince you? What if we went together? You wouldn’t be alone,” you pulled out your phone, “I read there’s exclusive merch as reward for the winners that won’t be obtainable otherwise, and, look, there’s even a surprise prize for the couples’ category.”

You swore you heard him inhale sharply.

“We already have the couples’ tickets, don’t we? What’s the harm?”

You knew you were pushing him a bit too much, but you were sure that deep down he wanted to join the contest, all he needed was some bribing convincing, and limited merch was sure to do the trick.

“…Do you really want to join?”

“Yeah! It’ll be fun. Unless you think my costume isn’t that good. I don’t want to bring our score down.”

“No, no, no! Your costume is perfect! You look perfect. It would be great if we went together, actually…”

It was crazy to you that he got flustered over the smallest things but was able to say that to you with no trouble. Maybe he didn’t notice what he just said.

“Great! Let’s go register, then!”

Following the cosplayers, you walked back inside towards the hall where the contest would be held. They all looked fantastic, from many other Lumieres, to Wanderers of all kinds (a girl dressed as Heartbreaker was so cute), to characters from the Super Hunters show. All could be winners. But you looked to your left to the nervous mess that was walking alongside you, and you were certain that he would score the highest.

Names written, you were given the number 34 to go onstage. While you waited for your turn, you made sure everything about your costumes was in place. You even managed to convince him to practice some poses.

“I’m not sure about this…” He fidgeted with one of the protruding crystals on his elbow.

“We’re already inscribed, you can’t chicken out now.”

“I… There’s so many people here…”

“Nero,” you swatted his hand away so he wouldn’t ruin his own costume, “forget about them. Don’t look at them. Just look at me. We’re going to crush this, okay?”

He nodded faintly.

“When we go up there, keep your eyes on me if you want. Pretend the judges don’t exist.”

“O-okay.”

And so he did. When you two went onstage, his eyes didn’t stray from you. Not as you unsheathed your sword and struck a pose, not as you pretended to fight him, not as you gave a final smile and bow to the judges, not as you grabbed his arm and dragged him off the stage. The thing was, hadn’t you told him to keep his eyes on you, he still would have. He had been marveling at you from the corner of his eye whenever he had worn the helmet.

“You did great, Nero!” You clapped, giddy. “We’re gonna win for sure!”

He fidgeted under your praise, “Thank you.”

The rest of the contestants had their turn, which made you increasingly nervous; you wanted to know the results as soon as possible. You had gone through the trouble of convincing Nero, it would be a shame if you didn’t get at least a minor prize.

“And now, on the couples’ category…” The voice of the presenter echoed backstage, “In third place, couple 52!” Applause. The respective couple walked out. “In second place, couple 19!” More applause. They walked out, too. “Before we announce first place, a few honorable mentions…” Oh, come on. 

“It’s okay if we don’t win,” Nero said with a soft voice.

You took his hand, “We are going to win.”

You had only taken his hand to calm down your own nerves, excitement and anticipation coursing through your veins, but it also helped him relax slightly, as long as he didn’t think too hard about the fact that he was holding your hand.

“In first place…” You both tensed up. “Couple 34!”

He squeezed your hand in reflex. Time stopped for a second. It wasn’t until a staff member pushed you both towards the stage that your face broke into a big smile, jumping and shaking Nero.

You were received with applause, like the previous couples. They made you walk to the center of the stage, standing between the other two pairs of winners, who were also clapping. The judges spoke.

“Congratulations to all of the winners, and thank you to everyone who participated. If you may all please take off the parts covering your faces so we can see our champions properly…”

The couples beside you took off theirs, you took off the Lumiere mask, and Nero took off the helmet. Applause followed. He smiled shyly, looking around at the crowd. Confetti rained down. Lost in the excitement of the moment, you moved closer to give Nero a kiss on the cheek. Just as he was turning to you.

Now, it’s not like you kissed him. But your lips did land on the corner of his mouth. 

You blinked at each other.

“H-HUH?” He reeled back, covering his flushed face.

No time to explain yourself, as the staff members brought the prizes and shoved them into your hands. A large basket filled with all kinds of merch was given to all three pairs of participants.

“And for the couple who placed first, a special bonus! WandererCon has collaborated with a nearby hotel for a unique experience, offering you both a one-night stay!”

The staff gave you some documents detailing everything.

“That concludes this years’ contest…” The judge continued, but you weren’t listening anymore.

Because if what the documents said was true, you were about to spend the night with Nero in a room with one bed. Judging by the look on his face, he had just read that part, too.

“We have to tell them, that there’s been a… Um. A mistake,” he told you later, sitting on a bench, helmet back on to hide his expression.

“What if we tell them that we’re not a couple and they take away our prizes? They would question why we entered the couples’ category if we’re not one,” you reasoned.

The thought of losing the merch made him pause.

“It’ll be fine. I read that the room has a couch. One of us can sleep on it. And! Did you read the part about the Wanderer-themed food they’ll be serving us for dinner and breakfast? That sounds amazing.”

“Yeah… It does…” 

In the end, he relented. That’s how you found yourself taking the keys to the room in the hotel’s reception, where you were informed of all the amenities and services provided.

A few of the guests gave you weird looks, but the receptionist asked to take a picture with you both.

“You must be the winners of the contest!” She had said with excitement. “Well, lovebirds, enjoy the room,” she added at the end of her explanation, winking.

The ride in the elevator was awkward after that moment. Floor 1… Floor 2… Floor 3… All the way to floor 6.

Luckily, the luxuriousness of the room took over all of your thoughts as you stepped in. It made you wonder what WandererCon could gain by partnering with this hotel for such a sum of money spent on this suite.

“The description on the document did not do this place justice,” you commented.

“Yeah… That sofa is bigger than my bed back at home…” He took off the helmet to see the place better.

The floor-to-ceiling windows gave you a view of the hotel’s garden below. A massive TV hung from the wall, coffee table and sofa in front of it. There was even a kitchenette in a corner, minifridge filled to the brim with free stuff that you couldn’t help but want to try right away just because it was free.

To the left, the entrance to the bedroom. If the sofa was already big enough to sleep, the canopy bed must’ve been king size. On it, a pair of folded pajamas and a change of underwear had been left, as well as a gift basket filled with…

“I’m going to put that away,” you said promptly, not giving Nero the chance to process its contents.

You opened the wardrobe and shoved it in the lowest space available.

“Woah… Look at this,” he beckoned from the bathroom door.

Peeking from his shoulder, the only word that you could really use to describe what you were seeing was lavish. Marble floors and walls, a massive shower, a massive sink under a massive mirror, and of course, to top it off, a massive jacuzzi. The reason for their sizes being that they were meant to be used by two people at once.

Room fully explored, you sat down on the sofa to discuss what to do next.

“They’ll bring us dinner as soon as we ask for it. I don’t know about you, but I want to take a shower and change first,” you said, taking off some of the costume’s accessories.

“Uh, yeah, no, I agree. You can use the bathroom first, I’ll go after you.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

You took the provided clothes and stepped into the bathroom, feeling tiny. It was easy to take off most of what you were wearing, except the same item that gave you trouble when you first got Lumierefied: The dress. You tried to reach the zipper at the top of your back from different angles, but you couldn’t get enough leverage to pull it down.

“Damn it.”

Nero was on his phone when you walked back to the sofa, presumably on one of his forums.

“Hey.”

He almost dropped his phone, startled. “Yeah?” He turned to you.

“I can’t unzip my dress. Would you mind helping me?”

Instantly red. And phone dropped.

You turned around to show him the zipper. “If you pull it a bit I think I can reach the rest of the way.”

He had taken off his clawed gloves already to be able to use his phone, so he had no excuse to procrastinate. As he moved to stand behind you, you could feel his shaky breaths on your nape, and you could swear you heard his heart hammering in his chest.

Ziiip.

It was faster than you had expected. Then again, you guessed he wanted to be done with it as soon as possible.

“T-there.”

“Thank you!”

Back in the bathroom, you took off the dress and turned on the shower. If you had been on your own, you would have tried the jacuzzi, but you didn’t want to take up too much time.

The water was nice and hot, not to mention the shampoo and gel given by the hotel smelled really good. Like coconut.

You finished showering and wrapped a towel around your body, drying your hair a bit too. There were a few steps in your post-shower routine that you usually went through, but you remembered that Nero was quite resolute about cleanliness and would want to use the shower as soon as possible, so in the name of efficiency, you took your clothes and lotions out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.

“I’m done! You can go now,” you called out.

“Okay!”

He came trotting through the door, only to freeze and cover his eyes with his hands upon seeing your towel-clad form.

“Y-you said you were d-done…” His voice got quieter and quieter.

“I am! I know you like being clean, and you already did me a favor by letting me go first, so you can shower while I finish changing here!”

“It’s okay… Really, I, I can wait…”

“Nonsense. Come on.”

You grabbed his set of clothes and pushed them into his hands, forcing him to look at you, the way you wet hair clung to your skin, your flushed cheeks due to the heat of the water, the dangerously low point the towel was resting on your chest- He swallowed.

Completely ignoring his wandering eyes, moreso because it amused you, you grabbed his arm and forced him into the bathroom.

“See? Was that so difficult?”

You closed the door before he could answer, but he had little to say.

Time to finish your self-care routine. You grabbed the body moisturizer and started applying it to your arms and legs, the texture soft. Would they tell you the brand if you asked in the hotel’s reception?

While you pondered this, there was a crash.

“Nero…? You okay?”

“U-uh, yeah! I- I fell trying to get this off…”

“Having trouble with your costume, too? Yours looks harder to put on and take off than mine.”

“I didn’t really have trouble putting it on, but now…”

“Okay, let me help,” you knocked.

The door opened a crack, then closed as soon as he saw you.

“You- Ah, mm… Change first.” 

“I can’t put on the pajamas yet, I have to let the lotion dry. Just come out.”

One second of silence. Two seconds of silence. The door opened again.

Making a gesture with your hands for him to move closer, you instructed him to lean down so you could pull off the upper part of the costume. He was glad he didn’t have to look at you and could look at the floor instead.

It was difficult to find the right amount of force to use, since you didn’t want to ruin it, but you had to get it unstuck.

So you pulled, and pulled, and pulled, each time with a bit more strength- Too late. The piece came off, but now there was no time to brake. You stumbled back, making Nero stumble forward, the costume part flying off backwards over your head and landing on the other side of the room… Just as you landed on the floor and Nero on top of you.

“Ow…” You reached to rub your head. At least there was a carpet.

“I- Uh- Um- I-”

You blinked your eyes open to see why Nero was speechless now. Ah. The towel.

It wasn’t completely off, but a straight line of skin was exposed from your right shoulder to your right thigh. That included half of your chest.

The rest was covered, but it’s not like it mattered right now.

He couldn’t function. His eyes were glued to your body, and his face was poppy red. Even his glasses were fogging up.

“Oh, please,” you rolled your eyes, “Nero, it’s a body part. You’ve never seen a body?”

He didn’t answer, still overwhelmed.

Well, since this had happened, you might as well have fun.

“Look.”

You grabbed his hand that was planted next to your head and pressed it to your breast, lifting an eyebrow.

“See? Just a body part.”

He squeaked and reeled back, pulling his hand free and crawling away from you. You sat up with a mischievous smile.

“Be honest,” you started, crawling towards him, “you like all this, don’t you? When I’m close to you, when I pay attention to you, when I touch you…”

He whimpered in response. The towel had fully fallen off by now.

“You act all shy, but we both know… You’ve been wanting this from the beginning.”

You reached him, caging him beneath you as he lay flat on the ground to stay as far away from you as possible. He was wearing a white T-shirt under the upper part of the costume, but he had yet to remove the bottom half, and you were certain that there was no space for him to wear pants of any kind under it, so he must be in boxers.

“I won’t do anything else unless I have your permission. If you want me to continue, you have to say it.”

Droplets from your wet hair fell on his face. Somehow, he managed to keep eye contact.

“You…” His chest fell and rose. “K-kiss me again, like before? P-please…”

Right, the accidental kiss. Had he been thinking about it this whole time? It was a quite innocent request compared to the situation you had put him in, but surprisingly direct coming from Nero.

His eyes darted to your lips several times, but he didn’t dare move.

“You want me to kiss you,” you repeated, then smirked, “is that all?”

He made a sound of protest and frustration. His fingers clutched the carpet in an attempt to hold himself back from doing anything embarrassing. He shook his head.

“No? What else? Use your words, pretty boy.”

His hand flew to his mouth. Did you really just call him that? You chuckled.

“Fine, we’ll take it slow.”

You pulled his hand away and pinned his arms to the floor. Slowly, so slowly, you leaned down until your lips brushed against his. Nothing more than a feather touch had him already gasping.

“Let’s see…” You whispered, “this is what I did before.”

Repeating what had happened in the contest, you kissed the corner of his lips. This time, however, letting the contact last longer, and making sure that a ‘mmm’ sound reverberated into the kiss.

When you pulled away, Nero was practically panting. His body squirmed under you, but you were certain it wasn’t because he wanted to escape your cruel intentions.

“There. That’s what you asked for.”

“W-wait!” Afraid that you were going to leave him like that, he found his voice again, “I want… Uhm- If you could, ah…”

“All you have to do is ask for it.”

He closed his eyes tight, as if saying these next words took all of his strength, “Do whatever you want with me.”

Your eyes widened. Oh, wow. He was actually a freak. Always the shy ones… You huffed a laugh, brushing the tip of your nose across his cheek to prompt him to open his eyes.

“Whatever, huh. Let’s be sensible. Just in case, let’s agree on a safe word,” you looked at him with genuine consideration.

He nodded, growing increasingly nervous at the thought of what you were about to do to him.

“How about… ‘Protocore’?”

“O-okay,” he knew this wasn’t a silly matter, so he was trying his best to be verbal about it.

“Alright, test it out. When should you say it?”

“Um… When I, if I feel uncomfortable… I should say p-protocore.”

“Good boy.”

Those two words made bumps appear all over his arms. You smiled with amusement.

That matter settled, your eyes made a very deliberate path to his lips. Since you were holding his wrists, your finger rested right over the pulse point there, showing you just how fast his heart had started beating at your gaze.

He tilted his head up to get himself the smallest bit closer to you, practically begging for a kiss. An actual proper kiss.

Your lips pressed against his, finally. You noticed they were slightly chapped, the texture rough in contrast to your softness, but that only made you want to run your tongue over them. So you did.

He instantly opened his mouth in response. You plunged your tongue into his mouth, which earned you a muffled whimper. He swiped his tongue against yours with caution, growing more comfortable as you kept going. It became messy very fast due to his inexperience, the deeper you kissed him, the more he started drooling.

Despite that, he was a very desperate kisser. Like he didn’t believe this was happening, nor it would ever happen again in the future, so he might as well go all out in the present.

You pulled back and licked your lips, looking down at his state. His glasses, apart from foggy, were now crooked, and a line of drool ran down his chin. You licked it up.

“I’m curious,” you announced with an air of mystery.

He tilted his head, silently asking ‘about?’. Not answering, you moved to sit next to him, setting his arms free. He mentally debated if he should touch your naked body with his newfound freedom, but he didn’t have time to reach a conclusion as your hand slid to his pants - still part of the costume - and pulled them off, along with his underwear.

He froze in flustered silence, completely exposed to you. Part of him wanted to cover himself up, it was too embarrassing to let you see his fully erect leaking dick, he felt too self-conscious about it, but the other part of him was curious to know your opinion. Maybe if you insulted him now, it would be easier for him to accept that he had fumbled you once he got back home.

But, you didn’t say anything.

No, as you stared at the 8-inch cock in front of you, you really didn’t have anything to say. Always the shy ones indeed.

With almost wonder in your eyes, you wrapped a hand around it. Nero twitched.

“W-wait, mh-”

He pushed himself up on his elbows, reaching to grab your wrist with half-lidded eyes. You didn’t move your hand, but returned your gaze to his expression.

“Wait? For what?”

“I just, well, you were kissing me and- I’m not saying I didn’t like it, t-the opposite, but well I’m nervous now, so… Uh, not yet because, because I-”

Cutting him off, you started pumping up and down, precum helping you slide along his length. He bit down hard on his lip to prevent a moan.

“W-wait! I! Ah-”

He let go of your hand in order to keep himself lifted on his elbows.

“Stop, s-stop, I’m too sensitive-”

You didn’t let up. If anything, you sped up, brushing your thumb across the tip.

“I don’t see how that’s a problem,” you said with a smirk.

“B-because, mh, fffh…” His words became higher pitched and whiney, “I don’t-”

His worst nightmare was realized right then. Having any sort of sexual interaction with a beautiful girl and cumming in less than thirty seconds. How pathetic of him, he thought.

The cum spilled over your hand and shot all across his T-shirt, his abdomen and legs shaking. His elbows gave out and he fell on his back.

“I’m s-orry- I’m sorry, I’m so- sorry-” Was the only thing he said through the orgasm, covering his eyes.

You stood up and left to go to the bathroom, and it solidified the fact for him: You thought he was disgusting and wanted to get away from him as soon as possible.

Nothing further from the truth, as you returned with a damp towel after cleaning your hand to help him clean up. You moved his hands away from his face and repositioned his glasses.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated.

“What for?” You asked now that he had calmed down somewhat, handing him the towel.

“Mm… I, I came too fast…”

“But I wanted you to cum.”

“W-well, yeah, but, you know, that’s uhh…”

He didn’t look you in the eye as he cleaned himself and took his stained shirt off.

“It’s what?”

“Kinda… Pathetic…?”

He stood up and realized you were both completely bare in front of the other, and he still hadn’t touched you. The passing contact of his palm on your breast burned his skin.

“Maybe, but I found it hot.”

The blush returned to his face. He looked down and started fidgeting with his hands. You remembered he was about to shower before all of this happened, so you slid your hand in his and led him to the bathroom.

“Um, what are you-”

“I’ve been wanting to try the jacuzzi.”

“Oh.”

Water started filling the tub. In the meantime, you turned to Nero and stepped closer. He wanted to put his hands on you so badly, but he was too embarrassed to try. 

Honestly, you just wanted to eat him up.

“Relax. We’re just going to take a bath, and then we’ll have dinner.”

“Yeah… Okay.”

You reached up and gently took off his glasses. Before setting them aside, you tried them on, curious, only to find he had a very high prescription. Even though you were blurry, the way you widened your eyes wasn’t missed and it made him giggle. As you looked at him, he coughed to cover up his laugh and looked away.

“I’d give you um, a compliment, about how they look on you but, you know uh… I can’t really see. Although I k-know for a fact that you look good in them because, because you… You look g-good in anything…”

You took them off and put them near the sink, then kissed his cheek.

“Thank you.”

Your bodies brushed when you got closer, and he instinctively lifted his hands with fear as if to say ‘I didn’t touch you on purpose! I’m not a pervert!’.

You shook your head and facepalmed. He panicked again at your gesture.

“Nero, I just gave you a handjob,” you sighed, “You know what? It’s okay. Forget that happened, maybe I went too fast. Let’s start from the beginning.”

You turned off the faucet, water having reached an acceptable level, and gestured for him to get in first. Like a small animal in distress, he followed your command and sank into the water, cowering because you seemed angry - you weren’t.

Before he could protest, you entered and sat on his lap, facing him, straddling his thighs. His hands gripped the edges of the tub.

“You said-!”

“And I meant it! Calm down, I just want you to get more comfortable with me. My body. Not every skin to skin contact has to be about sex.”

He relaxed the tiniest bit.

“Now, put your hands on my waist. And you have to understand, I want you to touch me. I’m not going to judge you for doing that. I was the one who put your hand on my chest!”

He nodded along with your explanation, sliding his hands down the white marble and bringing them to your sides. It still felt forced.

“Tell me something. Do you want to touch me?”

“Yes! Y-yes…” He sank his mouth underwater, blowing a few bubbles.

“Then do it. I give you full permission to move your hands wherever you want. Would you rather I… Don’t look?” You tilted your head. “Is that it? You feel judged if I’m looking at you?”

“A bit…”

“Okay.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned forward, resting your head against your bicep. Your chest pressed against his. He got hard again.

A few moments passed, but seeing you weren’t moving nor saying anything, he began to slide his hands up. You could feel his warm face pressed to your cheek.

He stopped right when he felt your breasts, gathering the courage to continue. As gently as he could, he cupped each breast in his hands until his palms were flush with your skin.

“C-can I… squeeze or will that hurt you?”

“As long as you don’t do it very hard, it’s fine.”

Worried about how hard was ‘very hard’, he squeezed with barely any force, then ran his thumbs across your nipples. That made you exhale.

He froze.

“That feels good,” you reassured him.

“Oh, okay,” he was taking mental notes of every piece of information.

He continued his exploration, moving his hands down this time, to your thighs. The sound of water and his echoey breathing were the only noise in the bathroom, since you hadn’t turned on the jacuzzi function yet.

He squeezed them, too, sliding his way up, but staying on the outer part.

“You’re- Very um, soft.”

“I think it’s the lotion I just used, but thanks,” you kissed his cheek, “your hands feel nice.”

“A-are you going to, uh, kiss me every time I compliment you?”

“Yeah, why not.”

“Well, I think you’re very pretty, b-but! Obviously that’s not the only thing about you, I mean, you’re a great Hunter and you’re very intelligent, every time you come back from a mission and I read your reports it’s always amazing to see how efficient you are, and you’re so much fun to spend time with, I-I’m very happy you came with me- Ah! I didn’t tell you before but you wear the costume so well, and you’re so talented-”

You cut him off with a kiss, which he instantly melted into. His arms wrapped around your waist to keep you close. This time he was a bit more sure of what he was doing, tilting his head and returning the motions of your lips. You pulled back but he furrowed his brow with a whine and dipped his head to kiss you again, one of his hands moving to cup your cheek.

Far from complaining, you kissed him back. The hand still on your back slid down to your rear. He broke the kiss with urgency.

“Y-you… made me feel good so I want to m-make you feel good too… Um… Show me how…?”

“Yeah, of course,” you smiled, glad that he was warming up to intimacy.

He took his hand off your cheek and presented it to you. Grabbing his wrist, you plunged it into the water and brought it between your legs.

“Feel around first, don’t be shy.”

The pads of his fingers traced down your pubes, over your clit and into your folds, finding your entrance.

“Do I just…”

“Hold on, you overlooked something.”

“I- I did?”

You moved his hand back slightly.

“That’s my clitoris. I thought you’d like to know.”

He blushed furiously, “O-oh. Yeah, mhm…”

His finger circled it a couple of times, getting used to its feel. Your breath hitched. Encouraged, he kept rubbing it.

“So is it better to do this… Rather than, you know, f-fingering you…?”

“Both are different, but I’m going to show you the best way. Put your ring and middle fingers together and put them in.”

“A-at the same time?”

“Yeah, slowly.”

He followed your instructions, ever careful. Once they were fully in, you spoke up.

“Okay… Now curl-”

The action was immediate, a gasp falling from your lips as you gripped his shoulders.

“Did I hurt you!?” He was about to pull his hand back but you kept it in place, shaking your head.

“Quite the opposite. You’re doing great. Now, press your palm up…”

Your hips bucked into his touch as he did.

“Y-yeah, like that, now you just move your fingers and rub with your palm.”

He started slow, pumping his fingers in and out while curled, making sure to keep the friction against your clit. You suspected he had skilled hands ever since you had seen him typing away on his computer, but his coordination was surpassing your expectations.

You grew breathless, your hips rocking in tandem with his touch. The water sloshed around you.

“And… You can…” You grabbed his free hand and placed it on your breast with a squeeze. “Mmm, like that…”

He was just as worked up as you, if not more. Unprompted - to your delight, he dipped his head and started kissing your neck. Very sweet and innocent kisses compared to what his hands were doing.

“C-can I, hm, b-bite you?”

“Yes,” you breathed, the pronunciation of the word more lewd than you intended.

You felt his dick twitch on your thigh. His teeth clamped down on your neck, tongue licking the skin with intent. You moved your hand down to jerk him off again, but he stopped you, a frustrating loss on your chest.

“No. T-this is for you… Just concentrate on feeling good, okay?”

“Okay,” you dug your fingers into his hair instead.

“Am I doing well?” His hand returned to fondling your breast.

“You’re doing great… Mh- Maybe you can go faster now.”

No more words were needed. He picked up the pace, hitting your g-spot just right each time, grinding his palm against your clit with more determination.

The moans couldn’t be held back anymore. He planted open-mouthed kisses to the spot where he had bitten, noting how you clenched around his fingers. How would that feel on his dick?

Pleasure started pooling, your movements becoming more erratic, reaching for that high. He noticed and pushed his fingers harder against your spongy walls.

“Nero- Mh… Keep going like that, yes, just like that- I’m gonna cum- Fuck, don’t stop-”

Your hands clutched his hair, head falling back, and-

With a gasp, followed by a moan, the orgasm wrecked through you. He kept moving his hand until your head fell on his chest, just to make sure you had fully finished. 

He pulled his fingers out and hugged you in silence as your breathing returned to normal.

Once your senses came back, you lifted your head to give him a sweet kiss. He smiled, shy.

“You… Liked it?”

“Yes. I didn’t expect you to be so good at it,” you chuckled.

Pride overtook his expression.

“You sure you don’t want me to…” You looked down at his erection.

He shook his head, “A-after dinner… If you want, I- We-”

You laughed again, “After dinner, absolutely. Let me help you wash your hair, at least. It’s all tousled now…”

Since you had already taken a shower earlier, you focused on helping him, which he really appreciated. All the contact and intimacy that he had never had made this day easily one of the best of his life.

You washed his hair and massaged his scalp, sneaking a few kisses when he closed his eyes. He washed the rest of his body himself, blushing as you absentmindedly traced your fingers across his skin while you waited.

Before leaving the bath, you remembered the reason why you wanted to use it in the first place: The jacuzzi function. You pressed the button and relaxed for a few minutes under the bubbling water.

It wasn’t healthy to stay too long, though, so you said goodbye to the jacuzzi with a mock salute. 

Nero passed you a towel and wrapped one around himself. Luckily relaxing in the water had made him go soft again, relieved that he didn’t have to feel embarrassed about having a tent.

You dried off then put on the pajamas and underwear, all very comfy and soft, and he put his glasses back on.

“I’ll call them to bring our dinner while you dry your hair,” he offered.

“Okay!”

The hair dryer was also really good quality. You were definitely going to participate in more contests in the future, regardless of whether a hotel stay was in the prizes or not.

You brushed your dry hair and walked out of the bathroom. Just then, a knock at the door.

Nero opened it and a staff member entered, pushing a serving cart filled with covered plates. They left it next to the coffee table.

“We have organized it so the entrées are on the upper tray, and dessert is on the bottom tray. The idea is that you go down each tray of food. There’s also a triptych on the top describing each meal. Do you have any questions?”

“Nope.” You looked at Nero. He shook his head.

“Then I’ll get going. Enjoy your food!” They smiled.

“Thank you!” You both said in unison.

The door closed. You took the first tray and put it on the table, then sat on the sofa.

“Want to do the honors?” You said to him.

“Yeah. We can do one each,” he sat next to you and lifted the silver cover.

The food was amazing. Both in presentation - they nailed the ‘Wanderers’ theme - and in taste. As you ate the meals, however, you noticed that Nero had grown weirdly quiet, and not in the usual shy way.

“Is everything alright?” You put your fork down.

“Hm? Why?”

“I don’t know, you seem upset or like, lost in thought.”

He put his fork down too.

“D-do you like me?”

“...What? What do you mean?”

“I mean… A-are you interested in me or… D-do you just want, uhm, a one night stand…?”

“Oh! No, no, I’m interested in you, Nero. I like you. You’re so cute and sweet. I would… It would be nice if we started dating.”

“Wait- Really?” He looked up at you with bright eyes, pushing up his glasses in a nervous gesture.

“If you also want to, yes.”

“Yes! Yes, I want to. I want you to be my g-girlfriend.”

You hugged him, covering his face in little kisses that knocked his glasses off. He laughed nervously, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your hair.

“S-stop, that’s too much…” He complained, but you knew he wasn’t actually annoyed.

“I can’t help it, you’re sitting here looking so kissable… Hehehe.”

You grabbed his glasses and put them back on his face.

“The food will get cold. You can continue your attacks after we eat,” he said, letting go of you.

“Oh, I intend to.”

That sent a shiver up his spine, but he refrained from saying anything in case you would change your mind and forget about the food entirely. After all, he wanted to enjoy this cute moment of eating dinner with his girlfriend.

Meals finished, cart taken away, you stood up with your arms crossed.

“Well?”

“...well what?” He looked around nervously.

“Are you going to stand up and join me in the bed or are you going to keep editing those pictures you took of the food?”

“A-ah…” He dropped his phone for the second time today.

You picked up the phone and left it on the table, away from him, to then pull him up by his arms.

“That wasn’t a response.”

“I’ll join you,” he muttered, avoiding eye contact.

You walked to the bedroom, hand in hand, but you stopped in front of the closet as you remembered the basket.

This time Nero got a good look at it.

“We-! We’re not gonna-! We-! Use all of that!?” He pointed at all of the items with a bewildered look.

“Calm down, we’re not. Geez, how freaky does the hotel management think we are?” You said with sarcasm, knowing exactly how much of a freak you were.

Nero seemed in particular distress about the strap on, which you lifted with curiosity but promptly put down. No, you were just looking for the condoms. For now.

“I feel like you should know, well I, I’m not exactly, um, what I mean is, I’m… A virgin.”

How sweet of him to mention it, as if it wasn’t obvious. You held back your snarky comeback, since this was serious for him and you weren’t that evil.

“Right. That’s okay. You remember the safe word?”

“Yes.”

“Then we’re good!”

You took one of the condoms and guided him to the bed, sitting down.

“I also don’t… I have no idea how to… Put one of those on.”

“I’ll help you, don’t worry,” you were concerned about the lack of sexual education he had received, but that was a different matter entirely.

He looked unsure of what to do next. Kiss you? Start undressing? Jump out of the window from embarrassment?

Those doubts dissipated as you started kissing his neck, his eyes closing in bliss.

“You left a mark on my neck,” you whispered between kisses, “it’s only fair I return the favor.”

He tilted his head up, grabbing a fistful of your hair, realizing he might be hurting you and letting go, ultimately grabbing again once you bit down. The noise he let out was borderline pornographic.

You sucked and licked the skin, only stopping to admire how it looked before moving on to a different spot and repeating the process. 

By the time you were done, his neck was covered in hickeys, he was panting, and he was visibly hard. Your hands had stayed on his shoulders the entire time on purpose, but now, as you looked at him look at you, they wandered down to unbutton his shirt.

He tried to avoid your gaze by looking at them, but you were quick to tilt his chin back up.

“Unbutton mine.”

He complied, fumbling with the buttons and taking twice the time you did out of pure nervousness. He was about to lose his virginity with you of all people. Fuck, he was about to lose his virginity period.

You took off the pajamas and discarded them on the floor. Despite having seen you naked not that long ago, it took him a moment to calm down again.

Gently pushing him back, you took off his pants and knelt between his legs.

“I’m gonna show you how to put on a condom but first I wanna do something…”

“Hm?”

You lowered your head towards his erection and he immediately palmed your forehead to stop you.

“W-wait!”

He retracted his hand, but kept it between you and his dick.

“What?” You raised an eyebrow.

“If- If you do that, I am certain, I am… I will c-cum right away…”

“I still don’t see the issue.”

“But- You- I- Well- We-” He started gesticulating incoherently.

You took the opportunity of his hands being busy to lower your head the rest of the way and lick up his shaft.

“Ah!” He threw his head back, then shot you a glare.

The eye contact in that moment was when you decided to put your whole mouth around it, sucking it completely. It was the right choice, as you got a perfect view of his flustered expression.

His hands gripped the sheets, unintelligible sounds falling from his lips.

“Mh! Nghh…”

You sucked from bottom to tip, dragging your tongue along the veins, making sure to cover all of it with your saliva. Your dominant hand followed just after your lips, while the other fondled his balls. 

“You have such a pretty dick, you know,” you kissed the frenulum.

It twitched in your hand, precum already dripping, and Nero grabbed a pillow to cover his face and muffle his moans.

“No, no, no, c’mon,” you pulled it away, “don’t you wanna see the cum all over my face when you finish?”

“Why do you-, why are you-, I’m just, I feel like-”

You sucked it fully again, swirling your tongue around it. His stomach trembled in tandem with his heaving breaths.

“Ahgh! Mmmff… P-please- Ahh…”

He was holding back. He was trying so hard not to cum, to impress you, to prove to himself that he could last, that he wouldn’t be a mess when he was finally inside you, but sucking up the length while rolling your eyes back and humming was all it took.

Thick ropes of white painted the inside of your mouth, his hips stuttering. Another apologetic string of sentences rang out of him, only a lot more garbled, his head on the mattress and his back arched towards you.

You licked and swallowed all the cum. When you finally pulled back and looked at his state, he refused to make eye contact, but his eyes were fixed on the top of the canopy with suspicious concentration.

You looked up and, ah, of course, a mirror. Your eyes met his and he instantly looked away, moving to lie on his side and bury his face against the mattress.

“Nero, are you embarrassed or are you upset? I can’t tell.”

“Mm mmm,” he answered, words muffled.

You lied down next to him and caressed his cheek. He slowly came out of hiding.

“I didn’t understand that. Can you repeat it?”

“The first,” he repeated with a huff.

“So, embarrassed. But, did you like it?”

“Are you joking!?” He exclaimed, “I- I mean… Yes…”

“Great, because I’m far from done with you,” you lifted the condom to his flushed face, “wanna be on top?”

He shook his head so hard that his glasses almost fell off.

“Listen,” he tried to explain as you got on top of him once more, “I’m still sensitive, a-and I might cum just as fast anyways, so I’m really sorry in advance for how much of a mess I’m going to be, I promise I’m doing my best, if you don’t want to do this anymore that’s fine by me, we can do whatever you want- Aah-,” he shuddered as you slipped the condom on his still hard dick, “...that was easier than I expected- A-as I was saying! If you don’t like this, I could e-eat you out instead- MMMGH!”

You sank onto him in a swift move, the full length now buried to the hilt inside your warm cunt. It made you gasp, too. It felt better than any sex toys or past flings you had had.

“With how fast you talk, I don’t doubt that it would be nice, but you made me so wet with all your moaning that I couldn’t wait to fuck you properly.”

He mumbled a response, hands grabbing your thighs to keep you still for a moment; it was too much for him to process, and he knew that if you started moving he would-

You rocked your hips, propping yourself with your hands on his chest, and his nails dug into your skin with a broken whimper.

“Wait!”

Ignoring him, you did it again. God, he felt good.

“Agh-!” He arched his body, scratching your thighs, which he looked really apologetic about but he couldn’t help himself.

“How mean, you have all this and you want to keep it all to yourself…” You teased.

“N-no, it’s not that, I swear, u-use me, I-”

At those words, you raised your hips and dropped them sharply, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix. His eyes rolled back, words dying in his throat.

“You didn’t let me, let me f-finish s-speaking…!” He protested.

“Since you wanna talk so much, how about I give you something to do with your mouth?”

You reached up and pushed your fingers inside his mouth, delivering another pointed rock of your hips. Helpless, he began sucking on them. 

Matter settled, you started to actually move on top of him at a constant rhythm, new red lines appearing on your thighs with each movement. He was so overstimulated that tears started to pool and fall down his cheeks.

The best thing about riding him was that you could deliver a perfect hit to your g-spot every time, although with how thick he was, he might’ve done that anyways if he was on top. 

You clenched around him and he saw stars, whimpering and moaning between your fingers. Hit after hit, warmth started to spread across your body, growing more and more breathless as the pleasure built, never enough - you needed to step it up.

So you took your hand out of his mouth to keep balance as you fucked yourself on his dick, faster and harder, his pussy-drunk expression only serving to drag you further, moans now spilling from your lips as well.

Nero slowly but surely recovered from the overstimulation, the mattress below him wet with tears. He chased his own pleasure now too, hips jerking up to meet you.

“I’m gonna cum,” you said, having trouble holding yourself up.

“Don’t st-oh-op, p-please, p-please, mmh…”

“I- I can’t keep, fuck, ah-”

The rope stretched tighter and tighter until it snapped, electricity jolting up your spine. Your body shook and fell on top of Nero’s, spasming with the aftershocks of the orgasm.

“No! Mh! P-please!” He cried, feeling so close himself but edged since you had stopped, “I need- you- I need to-”

He turned, both of you lying on your sides, his hands keeping your thighs around his waist, and-

With desperate thrusts, he tried to reach the climax he hadn’t. He buried his face in your chest, glasses pressing against your skin as he kissed and sucked anywhere his mouth could reach. 

You grabbed his hair, shaky gasps each time his tongue teased your nipples or his cock reached deep. It was a lot, his pace relentless, but you wanted him to finish, so you let him continue.

“S-sorry, I need to- I want to cum so bad- P-please, I’m almost there- Nghh-!”

The sweet torture didn’t last long - not that you expected it to in the first place, his hips stuttering as he delivered a couple more deep hits. You looked down to see his face as he came. He went cross-eyed. Wow, you wished you had taken a picture.

He stayed with his arms around you for a bit, breathing heavily. You caressed the top of his head.

“Come up, give me a kiss,” you said softly.

He complied, moving his posture to face you. A gentle kiss, just lips, after which you both smiled.

“I really liked that,” you reassured him before he could apologize for anything.

“Me t-too. But…”

You covered his mouth with your hand.

“Are you about to put yourself down in any way?”

He raised his eyebrows, then shook his head. You moved your hand away.

“I just wanted to say… Well, I think it’s a bit unfair that I, uh, I came one more time than you did, so…”

“The score doesn’t always have to be ‘settled’,” you chuckled.

“I! I know that! But still, I want to… Y-you said yourself that… About me t-talking a lot…”

“You wanna eat me out that badly, huh.”

He flushed. Somehow he remained easily embarrassed.

“I’m curious to know how you taste.”

Maybe not that embarrassed.

“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue,” you nodded at him.

Confused, he followed your command. You spit. He closed his mouth, shocked. He acted offended, but you saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed it.

“That’s how I taste,” you laughed.

“Not- That’s not-! You know what I meant!” He huffed, the grip around you getting a little tighter.

“Hahaha, okay, okay, just teasing you. By all means, go right ahead. I would never say no to being eaten out.”

With your permission, he released you and pulled out, his dick now soft. He got up to throw away the condom while you positioned yourself on the bed, legs spread for him, pillows stacked under your upper back and head.

He crawled back on the bed and lied down on his stomach, face between your thighs, eyes darting wildly at the display before him. Seeing it was different from feeling it.

“Will you guide me like you did before?”

“Yeah, of course. Get a feel for it first, though.”

He nodded and swallowed.

“I didn’t expect you… To be… So wet…” His fingers traced your inner lips.

“I told you before.”

“Sure, but- I thought it was an exaggeration…” He licked his finger. No discernible reaction, until he realized you had watched him do that, then he turned redder.

“What’s the verdict? Do I taste good?” You smirked.

“A-ah, well- I didn’t really- I have to try more.”

“Smooth.”

This time he stuck out his tongue, flat, and licked up from your entrance to your clit. You trembled involuntarily.

“Like that?” He repeated the action.

“Y-yes, but, it’s not just that, you aren’t a dog-,” you gave him a look, but discarded the thought. Pet play might be too advanced for his first day. “You have suck, too. You can kiss if you want. Don’t bite, unless it’s on the thighs. And don’t focus on one specific spot, but every now and then you should definitely hone in on the clitoris,” you paused, “Is that confusing? Did I explain it more or less okay?”

“I’ll try to follow what you just said, but correct me if I do anything wrong.”

His arms wrapped around each of your thighs.

“Oh, and,” he kissed your clit, “that’s the clitoris, right?”

“Yes,” you smiled proudly at how far he’d come.

That smile faded fast as he dove right in and started sucking and licking like a starved man, running his tongue up and down, your expression morphing as your brow furrowed in pleasure.

His head moved up and down, lips pressing against every part of your cunt, tongue parting your folds. Just like you had told him, he made sure to stop at your clit, suck it and swirl his tongue around it before dragging it away and poking at your entrance, drinking all he could taste.

You bucked your hips towards him, gripping his hair with one hand and the sheets with the other. Your thighs pressed against his cheeks.

“Y-you can… Hahh… If you- Your nose-”

He understood what you meant, rubbing his nose to your clit as he sucked lower. His glasses fogged up at the heat. He took them off and threw them away to get a better angle.

They landed on the carpet, undamaged, but neither of you really cared.

His eyes moved up to you every now and then, though blurry, he tried his best to gauge your reaction, along with the little trembles of your legs. It was getting easier to understand what he had to do.

Still, he had some improvements to do. He pulled away for a moment to catch his breath, lips red and moist, a web of saliva connecting his mouth to your cunt. He licked his lips.

“Don’t stop,” you breathed.

“Sorry, sorry,” he quickly muttered before diving back in.

This time his movements were faster, his tongue flicking in all the right spots. One of his hands moved up to squeeze your breast, fondling it, small sounds of pleasure vibrating from his mouth to your core.

You grinded your hips back and forth, hissing. Nero was doing something similar against the mattress, his dick probably hard again. 

He sucked your clit sharply, and you threw your head back with a moan. 

“Fuck… Yes…”

He did it again.

“Mmnn! Nero, I’m so fucking close- Don’t slow down- ah!”

Far from it, he kept up the pace with heavy breaths, the hot air hitting your skin. Your fingers tightened their grip on both his hair and the sheets. Which, if it weren’t for the fact that he was neatly licking everything up, would have been stained with your wetness long ago.

“Yeah yeah yeah-” Your vision began to cloud as that familiar numbing sensation spread, almost, almost, right there.

Uncontrollable shivers ran along your body, your expression locked in a continuous gasp as you looked up, at the mirror, seeing - more than feeling - Nero kissing your inner thighs and up your stomach.

You slowly came down from the high. By the time he buried his face in your neck, you had regained control of your body and could wrap your arms around him.

“I have my verdict now,” he said with a cocky edge, “you taste good.”

You chuckled and patted his hair, ruffled from your grabbing and pulling.

“That means you’ll eat me often, then?”

He lost his cockiness, “I-If you want me to.”

You held him for a bit while an idea cooked in your mind. Would he be opposed? He didn’t seem very thrilled when he saw the strap on…

“Hey, are you up for one more thing? I know you were all about ‘settling the score’ or whatever, but I want to do something… It’ll be the last, I promise. We can go to bed after.”

“Uhm… Anything and everything you want to do is fine by me…”

“Riiight…” You gently pulled away from his embrace and got up.

As he saw you walk towards the basket, he felt a slight nervousness well up, but he calmed himself by believing you were just going to grab another condom. On the way there, you tossed him his glasses.

His vision now clear, he saw how wrong he was.

You lifted the strap and his face went white.

“You can’t be serious…”

“I am. You see, you were such a good boy eating me out and you did so well, that I think you deserve a prostate orgasm,” you said with a smile.

“I don’t- I don’t think I can, I’m able to… I…”

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine. We won’t! But if you’re just saying ‘no’ because it’s a new, weird experience, I’m asking you to be open minded.”

“Have... Have you done this before…?”

“What, peg a guy? Yes,” you shrugged.

He shook off the feelings of jealousy to instead focus on the fact that you knew what you were doing.

You picked up the lube - also in the basket - and walked up to the bed to sit next to him.

“Look at it. Your dick is a lot bigger and I can take it no problem.”

He turned red, “Well! That’s! I mean!”

To be fair, there were actually more sizes available, this one being the smallest, but you had buried them under the condoms and lube bottles so he wouldn’t see. A small mercy from you.

“Are you up for it or not?”

“Uhhh… Maybe I can, just like, try it for a second,” he avoids your gaze, fidgeting with his hands.

“Sure! Of course. If it’s uncomfortable, we stop.”

You pat the bed, “Get on all fours.”

“What!? Right away!?” He lowered his head.

“...I mean, what did you expect to happen first?”

“I don’t know! Can I get a kiss first.”

You giggled and leaned to kiss him. His hands cupped your face, and you felt him smile into the kiss.

“Better?”

“I guess.”

“Alright, I’m going to lube you up. I’ll use my fingers, so don’t get scared.”

“You’re gonna… Ah… Mhm…”

He positioned himself on all fours as you indicated, slightly relieved that at least he didn’t have to face you.

You squeezed some lube out on your fingers and took a gander at what you were working with. Okay, he was definitely tense.

“Breathe, Nero. My gosh.”

“Right, right, mhm.”

He wasn’t going to calm down much more, it was obvious, so instead of dragging it out, you simply decided to circle your finger around his hole and slowly push it in. No more than an inch deep.

The foreign sensation made his breath hitch.

“Am I hurting you?”

“N-no.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No…”

You pushed your index a bit further, coating his inner walls with the lube. You stopped once you figured you were deep enough.

“This is what I was talking about,” you warned him, before pressing down right on his prostate.

You saw his hands clutching the sheets as he gasped, then looked back over his shoulder.

“That’s…”

“Feels good, right?”

“Yeah…”

You retracted your finger and picked up the strap on to lube it up as well, coating its black silicone with your hands. Nero watched the whole process with his mouth dry.

“It’s about to feel a lot better than ‘good’, trust me.”

He nodded noncommittally, but deep down he was very curious after having felt just your finger.

You fastened the strap to your waist and thighs, making sure everything was properly tightened, and turned your attention back to him.

“You can still say no.”

“No, I, I’m okay.”

“Alright.”

You aligned the tip of the dildo with his hole, kneeling behind him. He looked away, heavily in disbelief that somehow this was happening - and worst of all - he was eager for it to happen.

The tip slid in easily thanks to the lube, a soft muffled sound coming from Nero, who now had one of his hands covering his mouth. You pushed a bit deeper, tentatively. Your hands found perch on each side of his waist, the touch causing goosebumps along his skin.

“You’re doing so well,” you praised.

Another inch. It was almost fully in. His posture was so rigid that he might as well have been a statue.

The final bit disappeared inside him, and you took a moment to let him adjust.

“How is it? How are you?”

He moved his hand away from his mouth, propping it against the mattress again.

“It’s a lot… But… It doesn’t feel bad, just weird.”

“That’s good. Can I move?”

“Yeah…”

With his permission, you slid it halfway out, and back in. Slowly.

“H-ah-”

One more time.

“Mmg-”

Faster.

“Oh-”

From tip to base.

“Ah!”

Seeing he could take it, you set the pace. In and out, every single hit dragging a new noise out of him.

Your hands on his waist, you began pulling him against you at the same time, lewd noises each time your hips met his ass. His knuckles turned white.

“Look at you, being so good,” you said in a singsongy voice, “arch that back for me.”

He did, whimpering at the way the strap felt in that posture.

“Good boy. Are you enjoying being fucked like this, Nero?”

“Y-ye-sssssgh…”

He was so far gone, and having done so little, too. It was going to be a delight when you used a bigger strap in the future.

Your thrusts turned harder, opting for impact instead of speed. Broken moans and whimpers fell from his lips. His arms trembled.

“You look so cute like this,” you leaned forward, wrapping a hand around his neck to make him face you.

He turned to you with half-lidded eyes and a permanent flush. You could practically see the heart-shaped pupils in his eyes, dazed and drunk. He felt like he was about to die from pleasure.

You felt him back up on you since you had stopped moving. You raised an eyebrow.

“What’s this, getting greedy?” You smirked.

“Pleaseee…” He whined, voice cracking.

“That good, huh,” you let go of his neck, “and you were so reluctant before.”

Both hands back on his waist, you rammed yourself inside him. He moaned loudly, but the sound got cut by yet another thrust, his voice carrying on and getting cut off repeatedly as you picked up the pace. 

Precum dripped on the mattress. You intended to jerk him off at the same time, although it didn’t seem necessary, so you focused on hitting his prostate at the right angle.

His arms gave out under him, barely holding himself together as he now lay face down and ass up - drooling.

“Hey,” you called out, “look- at- your- self-” you pointed up with your chin.

His eyes wandered up to the mirror, where he saw the utter mess he was, and how the strap slid in and out of him. The sight made his body tremble. You looked so hot.

“I’m gunn- gonna- aah… mmmh… going to- nngh! C-cum…”

“Yeah? Show- me. Cum- for- me,” you punctuated your words with thrusts.

He babbled incoherently, his legs shaking. His sounds got louder and louder, until he started pleading in broken syllables, and then- release.

Spurts of cum shot on the bed, his face buried against the mattress as he bit the sheets.

You moved for a bit longer to let him ride it out. When the whimpering turned into heaving gasps, you stopped. Gently, you pulled the strap out.

He collapsed on his side, fully spent.

“Very good. You did such a good job,” you leaned over and kissed his cheek.

He mumbled a reply.

You took off the strap and attempted to clean as much of the mess as you could. At that point it was better to change the sheets entirely, you realized.

Well, you weren’t a Hunter for nothing. You scooped Nero up bridal style and let him down gently on a chair while you changed the bed. He was flustered by the action, but not in the right state to complain.

After changing the sheets - there was a spare set in the closet - you went to the bathroom to grab a damp towel. You cleaned yourself first, then sat down next to Nero and helped him.

“Thanks…” Was all he could say.

You scooped him back up and laid him down on the bed before climbing in yourself.

“Want some water? Or anything?”

“No… I want… Sleep and cuddles…”

You chuckled, “we can absolutely do that.”

You turned off the lights and cozied up to him, gently taking his glasses and putting them on the nightstand. His arms wrapped around your waist, face buried in the crook of your neck.

The skin-to-skin contact, once arousing, now soothing, helped him drift off quite fast. You didn’t take much longer, sleep taking you in minutes.

An alarm woke you up the next morning. A song from the Super Hunters show. Nero’s alarm.

“Mmmh… Oh, no…” He got up, untangling himself from your warm embrace and running to turn it off.

You stirred, rubbing your eyes. Opening them, you saw him standing next to the bed, looking down at you.

“Hm? What…?” You said in a sleepy voice.

He chuckled and climbed back in, hugging you.

“Nothing. I just think my girlfriend looks very cute when she’s sleepy,” his voice was a little deeper in the morning.

You could already tell he was going to be the type of guy that showed off his girlfriend a lot. It made you smile, really.

“I think my boyfriend should have turned off his alarms,” you countered, poking his cheek.

“I’m so sorry,” he kissed right below your ear, “I forgot we were sleeping here together instead of being alone back home, and it slipped my mind.”

“Oooh, right, because we would have to drive all the way back from Linkon to WandererCon…”

“Yeah…”

“Do you have a lot planned for today?” You caressed his cheek, which he leaned into.

“I… I had plans… But… Uh…” His usual blush tinted his face.

“But?”

“We… The documents said we… Uhm, so, the room… Is booked until 5PM today… And I don’t feel like going to the convention today…”

Unbelievable. He wanted to spend the day here with you rather than gushing about Wanderers? Was he sick?

You blinked at him. He was a bit confused about your shocked reaction.

“Or, do you want to go?”

“No. No. I want to stay, I’m just surprised you want to stay. Are you sure? It only happens once a year, and I’m still going to be your girlfriend tomorrow.”

You knew this was important for him, so you wanted to make sure he knew what he was doing.

“Yes, I’m sure. Wanderers are still going to exist tomorrow, and I have you here now. It would be a waste not to enjoy your company.”

He kissed you, and kissed you, deep and loving, over and over.

“How was the weekend?” Asked Tara when you arrived at work.

“Oh shit, I forgot to buy you something,” you palmed your forehead, “I’ll treat you to dessert for the rest of the week,” you sat on your office chair.

“Hahaha, it’s okay, but I’ll take you up on that offer,” she clapped giddily.

She rolled her chair closer.

“It must have been really interesting to attend, if you forgot about it. Was it cool?”

Just then, Nero arrived at the office. He walked up to your desk and placed a cup of coffee with a shy smile.

“Good morning, Tara!” He greeted, walking to his desk.

Tara scrunched up her brows in shock and leaned to whisper to you.

“Tell me what’s going on. Has reality been altered? I didn’t see this in my cards…”

“Uhm… Let’s just say… It was a busy weekend.”

Thank you for reading! Here's a little meme:

[honeylations]

NAKAMURA KAZUHA x FEM!READER

Prompt: Still not being over your ex boyfriend (Choi Yeonjun), you thought it was a good idea to fake a relationship with Kazuha, aka a complete stranger, to make him jealous.

Warnings/Notes: reader is a med student, Kazuha is a mechanical engineering student, mentions of other idols

———

“Y/n?” A voice softly calls from outside your room that you chose to ignore.

There was a short silence before the knocking continued and your dorm mate spoke again. “Y/n, I know you’re awake”

“Go away, Chaeryeong” You groaned and hugged your thick blanket closer to your body.

The said girl opened the door anyways and gagged at the sudden stench of your room.

And also the horrid looks of it. Dirty clothes were scattered all around, unfinished ramen cups sitting on your study desk, and Chaeryeong could’ve sworn she just saw a cockroach run past despite the darkness.

“I said go away” You muttered tiredly into your pillow that was wet from your whole week of tears.

Chaeryeong hopped to your window and drew the curtains, blinding you with the bright sun. Actually, you didn’t even know it was morning from the longing you spent in your dark room, busy listening to Taylor Swift songs.

“Y/n, I know you’re heart broken but I can’t stand to see you skip lectures AND live like a pig” Chaeryeong said with a hand on the hip.

“You don’t understand it at all, Chaer…I just wanna stay here forever and die”

“Well if you’re gonna continue gluing yourself to the bed and only eat 2 minute noodles, you’re definitely not gonna wake up the next time you sleep”

“I don’t think I’ve slept at all this past week”

“I don’t think so either. Come on hun, this is not how I want you to be. Yeji and the other girls have been asking about you too. Don’t leave them worried sick” Chaeryeong sat next your laying body.

“If I go back on campus, I’ll see Yeonjun again and I’ll probably end up crying when I do” You hid under the covers.

“Look, I’m sorry Yeonjun broke up with you. Believe me, I’ve been holding myself back from running him over but you’re gonna make yourself look pathetic by not making the effort to move on”

You closed your eyes as the same scene of the breakup kept replaying in your head.

It was a Monday morning when you and Yeonjun were sitting at the cafeteria, waiting for the rest of your friends to arrive. You pulled out a big lunchbox since you cooked and packed food for the both of you.

“I cooked your favourite today, babe” You smiled and continued placing the utensils on the table.

Yeonjun sighed and rubbed his thighs to ease the anxiety eating him alive. “Y/n, can we talk? Just before the others get here”

“Yeah of course. What’s up?” You said calmly, unprepared for your boyfriend’s next words.

“Please don’t hate me for this, Y/n I’m really sorry…”

You stopped in your tracks and gave him your undivided attention. “What do you mean?”

“I want to break up…”

It was like the world stopped moving and all of a sudden you couldn’t hear the voices of the students around you. You could hear your heart beat and the palms of your hands started to sweat.

“W-What?”

“I wanted to talk about this another time where we were alone but you’re always caught up with so many lectures, it made it difficult. I’m really sorry Y/n, please believe me when I say that”

“Why? Was I a bad girlfriend? I can do better, I swear!” You started to tear up.

Yeonjun scratched the back of his neck and sighed. “No, it’s not that. Honestly, I just feel like my feelings for you aren’t as strong as they were before. I didn’t wanna lead you on nor force myself to continue the relationship when my feelings are unclear”

“Unclear? You can’t just lose feelings like that without a reason Yeonjun!”

“Y/n, I don’t have a proper explanation okay?”

“Heyyyy what’s up party people!” Yeji appears with her girlfriend, Chaeryeong. Food trays in their hands.

Their smile fell when they saw you rush to pack up your lunchbox in tears, sobbing your way out of the cafeteria. Yeji clenched her jaw and slammed her tray on the table, staring down at Yeonjun.

“What the hell did you do, Choi?”

“Y/n?” Chaeryeong’s voice broke you out of the flashback.

“I’m here”

“What do you say? If you come back to Uni, we’ll help you get over that stupid boy”

“Yeah, I’ll treat you bingsu!” Yuna’s voice made you scream and sit up from the bed.

“What the hell, since when did you come in?!”

The tall girl grabbed an empty laundry basket and started throwing your used clothes in it. “A few minutes ago but you seemed too lost in thought to hear me”

“Oh sorry” you thread your fingers through your unwashed hair.

“Don’t be. I missed you, hun. The others do too. Especially Minji, Sakura, and Yeji. They said the group projects feel empty without you”

“You gonna take up our offer, Y/n-ie?” Chaeryeong smiled sweetly.

Sighing into your palms, you have a small nod. “Fine.”

The two girls squealed and Chaeryeong hugged you but she quickly moved back from your stench. “Oh my god you need a shower”

Frowning, you lifted your armpit to your face and gagged. “Fuck you’re right”

“Go shower while we tidy your room. It’s time a for a fresh start” Yuna ordered, reassuring you with a thumbs up.

“I love you guys”

“Yeah yeah we know. Shoo shoo stinky!”

———

After a healthy breakfast and long hot shower, Chaeryeong and Yuna prepared you an outfit for the day. Yuna even offered to do your makeup for you.

Arriving at the University, you were happy to see the rest of your group patiently waiting by the engineering building. Yeji, Sakura, Minji, and Hanni all ran to you, pulling you in for a group hug. Yuna and Chaeryeong laughed before joining in.

“I’m so happy to see you, Y/n” Yeji said as the hug circle separated.

“Me too, Yeji. Feels good getting some fresh air”

“Should’ve seen her room” Yuna mumbled.

“I’ll start getting better guys, I promise” You smiled warmly at everyone, receiving a big smile back.

“Y/n?” A masculine voice called behind you.

Instantly turning around, you regretted to see your ex boyfriend with his friends Beomgyu, Soobin, Taehyun, and Huening Kai.

“Hold me back before I rip his teeth out” Chaeryeong whispered to Yeji who immediately held her waist.

“Yeonjun…hi” You breathed out.

“How have you been? Haven’t really seen you around”

“Been good, totally good. Was just busy with…stuff” You cursed at yourself for not thinking of better responses.

“Ah I see. Have you’ve been seeing anyone lately?” He suddenly asked, surprising you and your group.

“Why are you asking?”

Yeonjun timidly shrugged and buried his hands into his pockets. “No reason”

“Well I’m not—“

“Yeah she’s been seeing a hot girl” Yuna blurted out, all the attention going to her.

Your eyes were as wide as saucers.

Yuna clung onto Chaeryeong’s shoulder tightly, realising she fucked up big time.

“You’re bi?” Yeonjun asked.

“Um—“

“She’s swung both ways since junior year” Yuna spoke again and you really wished a rock fell on her head right now even though she wasn’t lying.

You’ve liked both genders for a while but you tried focusing on men more because you were getting too delusional with your crushes on straight girls. You wanted to save yourself from the heart break but looking at your situation with Yeonjun, the plan didn’t work out anyways.

“Oh…Who’s the lucky girl?”

“Hey Kkura-Chan there you are” A female student appeared with a stack of papers in one hand.

Out of panic, you hastily grabbed her wrist and pulled her to your side, sending Yeonjun an awkward smile. “This is her”

Yeonjun frowned. “Nakamura Kazuha…You’re dating Kazuha?”

Looking up at the taller (and extremely pretty) girl, she didn’t look back at you but instead wrapped an arm around your waist. “Mhm, that’s right. Sorry, is there an issue Yeonjun?” Kazuha asked.

“No, no problem at all. See you in class” He shook his head and walked off with his group.

Kazuha released her hold and finally looked at you. “You alright?”

All you could think of was: Goddamn this girl was hella fine. How come you haven’t seen her before? She was so much taller than you, had wavy black hair, glasses, wore baggy denim jeans, and black shirt.

“Y-Yeah. Sorry about putting you on the spot like that because SOMEONE wanted to LIE” you targeted your words at Yuna who hid behind Yeji and Chaeryeong.

“It’s okay, I thought he was bothering you”

“Thank you again, Kazuha was it?”

“Yep! Nakamura Kazuha, first year mechanical engineering student. Also mutual friend of Sakura”

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Kwon Y/n, first year med student”

“Sorry Ha-Chan, did you have something for me?” Sakura asked, now standing in front of the other girl.

“Oh yeah, your review papers that you texted me to get from our dorm. You left it”

“Thank you!! Would’ve died without them”

“Dramatic as always” Kazuha rolled her eyes with a handsome smile.

You were melting.

“I gotta get going. Yunjin’s waiting for me. I’ll see you at lunch, Kkura Unnie” Kazuha announced, starting to take her leave but not before she flashed you a short smile.

“See you around, Y/n”

Once she disappeared into the building, all your friends crashed into you with squeals.

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FRUITY TENSION?!” Hanni screamed.

“You totally like her!” Minji added.

You were being slapped left and right. “I do not! I just met her!”

“Just letting you know Y/n, Kazuha is single and also likes girls” Sakura winked.

You groaned before pointing a finger at Yuna. “This is all your fault!”

“I’m sorry, I freaked out!!”

“What do I do now? Yeonjun thinks I’m dating Kazuha when I’m not but we basically see each other everyday in this stupid campus!” You paced back and forth, starting to feel the incoming headache.

“Why don’t you two just continue faking it?” Chaeryeong suggested.

“You’re kidding” You deadpanned but your dorm mate shook her head.

“Hear me out. Yeonjun looked totally jealous and that brings me satisfaction because if you all have forgotten, he was the reason Y/n was living like a hobo this past week!”

“Damn was I that bad?” You muttered.

Chaeryeong continued. “Look at it as a way of revenge, Y/n. Yeonjun might still have feelings for you and since he broke your heart, just break his back”

You scratched your chin. “Doesn’t sound like a bad idea”

“Right? Kazuha also seems so chill about it so it shouldn’t be too much of a problem for you to talk it out with her. Also Y/n, I swear to God, if you take Yeonjun back, I’m running you BOTH over”

“Wasn’t planning on it anyways” You rolled your eyes.

“Come on let’s go to class. You got a week worth of revision to do miss Kwon” Yeji playfully scolded before Chaeryeong kissed her cheek.

“See you later baby” Hanni pecked Minji’s lips.

“Ugh, lovebirds. Bye Y/n-ie” Yuna waved, walking off with Chaeryeong and Hanni to the business department.

You walked alongside Yeji, Sakura, and Minji to the medical building, already dreading it.

———

“KIMCHI JIGAE KIMCHI JIGAE KIMCHI JIGAEEEEE!!!” Sakura hopped around impatiently while you, Yeji, and Minji were returning your laptops and notebooks inside your bags but the Japanese girl would not stop clawing at your arm.

“OW! Can you not be feral for one second?!” You raised your voice, seeing the scratch marks.

“But you know how packed the cafeteria can get! I don’t wanna miss out!”

“We’re going we’re going!” You chuckled and allowed yourself to get dragged out the room like a doll with the others tailing not too far behind.

You all finally reunited with Yuna, Hanni, and Chaeryeong at a big table in the cafeteria, noticing a few more familiar faces joined who you recognised as Lia, Ryujin, Haerin, Hyein, and Danielle.

Sakura had already disappeared into the line, fighting her way for Kimchi jigae.

“Y/N!!!” The 5 screamed and squished you in another group hug.

“Oh em ghee I’m so popular” you giggled, the girls groaning and pushing you away.

“Nevermind, don’t miss you anymore” Lia pretended to yawn.

You laughed and sat down just in time for Sakura to return with two food trays. “As an apology for scratching you, I got you food”

“That was fast” Danielle commented.

“It’s called pushing and shoving, my dear Australian friend”

“Thanks Kkura, I forgive you” You made a kissy face, about to pick up your chopsticks when the same annoying masculine voice called you.

“Hey Y/n” Yeonjun smiled, leaning onto the table.

Chaeryeong scratched her head and hissed. “Why are you always here when we don’t want you to!”

“Sorry, is it ok for me to talk with Y/n privately?”

Chaeryeong arched a brow. “What am I? Y/n’s mom?”

“No, but I am and I say no you cannot” Sakura replied with crossed arms.

“Y/n, it won’t take long” Yeonjun whispered and you tried hard not to fall again.

Another food tray suddenly squeezed past Yeonjun’s hand and placed next your tray. “Excuse me, wanna sit next to my girlfriend” Kazuha muttered and sat down, holding your waist like she did that morning.

“Ha-Chan!” Sakura cheered, waving enthusiastically.

“Since when was Kazuha part of our group?” Haerin mumbled to Danielle who could only shrug but watch intently.

“Also, girlfriend??” Hyein added to Danielle’s other ear.

“Y/n please?” Yeonjun pleaded.

You looked at Kazuha and the other girls. Giving a deep sigh, you slowly stood up, Kazuha’s hand never leaving your waist. “Alright”

“Y/n seriously?” Chaeryeong scoffed but you reassured her you’ll be fine.

“Don’t take too long, baby” your fake girlfriend pouted that you weirdly wanted to kiss.

“I won’t” You pinched her cheek and walked off with Yeonjun.

Finally in a private area of the uni, you crossed your arms and glared at the taller boy. “What is it this time?”

“Just wanted to say I miss you…” He muttered, looking down at his feet.

“Sorry, I just wanted to remind you that YOU broke up with ME”

“I know and I’m sorry for that, Y/n how many times do you want me to apologise? I fell out of love!”

His raised voice was starting to get on your nerves. “Okay? If you fell out of love then why did you ask me if I was seeing anyone? Let alone wanting to talk to me right now?!”

“Listen, this past week of not seeing each other made me realise that I probably made a mistake”

“Probably? This is some bullshit” You ran your fingers through your hair out of frustration. “You broke me Yeonjun! You were the reason I locked myself up in my dorm for the whole week, acting like a hobo!” You added, copying the description from Chaeryeong earlier.

“Ok but I thought you’d give yourself more time but here you are suddenly dating Kazuha?”

You made a face. “Is this what it’s all about? You’re jealous of me and Kazuha’s relationship?”

He scoffed. “Im not jealous. Im just saying I’m surprised to see you move on so quickly, it’s like you never loved me at all”

“YOU fell out of love, what the fuck Yeonjun?! Stop trying to make me sound like some whore. Kazuha was there for me when the entire break up started” you managed to create some sort of love story between you and Kazuha.

“Since when did you and Kazuha talk anyways? That bitch only stuck with her loser friends most of the time!”

Hearing him insult your (fake) girlfriend got you clenching your fists. “Don’t call her that”

“There’s no way you’re dating. You’re doing it to mess with me huh? Trying to make me crawl back to you”

The more he spoke, the more confused you got. “Let’s rewind a little bit because didn’t you just say you missed me? PICK ONE GODDAMN EMOTION YEONJUN!”

“Don’t fucking yell at me—“

“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to, Choi?” Kazuha spoke through gritted teeth, standing in front of you.

“This conversation is only between me and Y/n, Nakamura. Back off”

“Well hearing you yell at my girlfriend like that, there’s no way I’m gonna ignore it”

“Zu, let’s go back inside” You held her arm.

Kazuha looked at you with a puppy smile. “Okay”

The more you looked at the taller girl, the more you realised she looked like an adorable Samoyed.

“We’re not done talking, Y/n” Yeonjun growled.

You shook your head. “No, we are done talking, thanks” You scrunched your nose at him before walking off with Kazuha.

Yeonjun punched the wall before taking his leave.

Seeing that he was gone, you pulled your hand away from Kazuha. (Much to her dismay)

“Thanks for saving me again, you’re a hero”

“I don’t mind being a hero as long as I’m only saving you” She winked.

“Hey Kazuha, I hope you don’t mind me asking you a favour” You fiddled with your fingers.

“I already know what it is and I’m totally fine with it if it’s the only way to keep that weirdo away from you” She smiled.

You looked up with wide eyes. “What?”

“Sakura texted me during class”

“I’m gonna kill her” You looked away but the taller girl held your chin.

“If we’re gonna make this believable, we need to get to know each other properly”

“What’s on your mind?” You tilted your head.

Kazuha pulled out her phone and opened Instagram. “Socials and number please? So we can organise hang outs”

Shyly grabbing the device, you put in both your username and phone number before returning it. “Sounds good. How should we start?”

“Why don’t we join the others as we talk?” She put her hand out for you to hold which you happily accepted.

“Alright, let’s go”

As Kazuha talked about her plan, all you could do was stare at her and study every inch of her pretty face. Her smooth clear skin, her silky hair, her heart jumping smile, her jawline…

The way she would hold your waist, hold your hand, it made your body react more than when you were with Yeonjun. Although you had basically just met the Japanese girl, there was something special about her that you wanted to see more of, but you couldn’t specify what it was.

Maybe being dumped by Yeonjun wasn’t so bad after all.