#come back to me when they shared the same dream
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â charles leclerc being a simp for you.
he quietly learns your routine and tastes: your coffee orders, your favorite comfort food, and even the little things that brighten your day. when youâre too busy or stressed, heâs there with your favorite things, making your day easier without needing to be asked.
he follows the release dates of your favorite authors or artists, always surprising you with a new book, song, or art. sometimes he leaves it on your doorstep with a little note, so it feels magical when you find it.
he makes a physical or digital âmapâ of places youâve mentioned youâd like to visit or things you want to do, like hike a specific trail, try a new restaurant, or visit a certain country. little by little, he plans little trips to check off items on your list and make your dreams come true, surprising you with spontaneous and memorable adventures.
whenever you say something funny, inspiring, or deeply personal, he writes it down. over time, he creates a little book of âquotes of youâ that he can look back on, remembering all the unique things that made him fall in love even more with you.
every week, he sends you flowers or with a handwritten note. he never signs his name, leaving it as a âsecret admirerâ gesture, which adds mystery. even though you know heâs the one sending them, he never admits it. sometimes even joking around like, âwhat beautiful flowers! who gave them to you? a secret admirer?â
he creates different spotify playlists based on your mood â one for when youâre happy, one for when youâre sad, one for when youâre feeling nostalgic. each playlist is filled with songs that resonate with your emotions, showing that he really pays attention to you and uses music to demonstrate his love and care for you.
whether itâs a specific recipe you love or a new hobby youâre interested in, he dives into learning to surprise you. one day, heâll show up with a homemade version of your favorite dish or casually mention that he tried that new hobby youâre obsessed with. he loves to participate in your hobbies and share the same emotions and ideas with you.
he has a scrapbook of all your best memories together, including date night tickets, photos, and little memories. itâs a visual journey of your relationship that he updates with new pages as you continue to make memories.
one night, heâll take you stargazing, showing you a custom star map he commissioned that shows the exact sky from the night you met, your first kiss, or another significant event. itâs a physical reminder of your history together and how the stars have witnessed your love.
he notices what makes you feel better when youâre feeling down or stressed, whether itâs a specific movie, hot chocolate, or a fluffy blanket. when you need a pick-me-up, heâll quietly set up your favorite âcomfort zoneâ with everything you love to help you relax.
#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#charles fluff#charles imagine#charles x reader#charles leclerc headcanon#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fic
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coincidence
nicholas chavez x reader
based of this request: Hi! I have an ideia for Nicholas Chaves! Something inspire by "Coincidence", by Sabrina Carpenter. Something like Nic is dating the reader but he cheats her up with his ex, Victoria. A loooot of angsty
summary: nicholas cheats on y/n and itâs no coincidence
I had always felt a special connection with Nicholas. Our relationship had blossomed over time, filled with laughter, shared dreams, and deep conversations. We had become each other's confidants, our bond seemingly unbreakable.
One evening, I was scrolling through my phone when a message from a mutual friend, Cooper, popped up. It was a screenshot of Nicholas and his ex, Victoria, in a compromising position. My heart sank as I stared at the image, a mix of disbelief and pain flooding my senses.
I confronted Nicholas that night, my voice trembling with hurt. "How could you do this to us?" I asked, tears streaming down my face. Nicholas looked away, unable to meet my gaze.
"It was a mistake, y/n," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean for it to happen."
My voice trembled with anger as I confronted Nicholas. "How could you do this to us? I saw the messages, Nicholas. It's not a fucking coincidence."
Nicholas tried to defend himself, his voice rising in frustration. "It was a mistake, baby! I didn't mean for it to happen."
"A mistake?" My eyes filled with tears. "You don't just accidentally cheat on someone. If you loved me, you wouldn't have ever done this."
Nicholas looked away, unable to meet my gaze. "I do love you, y/n. I just... I got caught up in the moment." His eyes pleading for forgiveness
I shook my head, my heart breaking. "If you truly loved me, you would have never hurt me like this. It's not just about a moment, Nicholas. It's about trust, and you've destroyed it." âYou know I shouldâve known sheâs always someone back in your life and in the same damn city as you on the same damn night.â
But my heart was heavy with pain as I looked at him. The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of broken promises and shattered trust. It was a moment of raw honesty, a painful realization that love alone couldn't mend the damage that had been done.
But the damage was done. The trust we had built was shattered, replaced by a gaping wound in my heart. I felt a deep sense of betrayal, the weight of his actions pressing down on me.
âIâm leaving, I canât even look at you right nowâ I said walking out of our shared apartment. âBaby come on, at least tell me where youâre going?â was the last thing I heard from Nicholas. I drove to coopers house because I couldnât trust myself driving for longer. I look at my phone and see a stream and calls for Nicholas begging to know where i went.
The betrayal cut deep, leaving my feeling lost and heartbroken. In my moment of despair, I turned to Cooper, a trusted friend who always had a way of comforting me and making me feel safe.
With tears in my eyes, I made my way to Cooper's house, seeking solace and a place to stay. Cooper welcomed me with open arms, understanding my pain without needing words. As we sat together, I poured out my heart, letting out all the hurt and confusion that had been weighing me down. âGod, I feel like such an idiot coop.â âThis is not your fault y/n, Nicholas is the idiot, to cheat on you is fucking pathetic.â
Cooper listened attentively, offering a shoulder to lean on and a comforting presence. In that moment, I felt grateful for his unwavering support and friendship. I knew that with Cooper by my side, I would find the strength to heal and move forward from the heartache Nicholas had caused.
Days turned into weeks, and the pain didn't subside. Every corner of my life was a reminder of what we had lost. I would see couples walking hand in hand and feel a pang of sorrow, knowing that our own love story had been tainted by dishonesty.
I tried to move on, but the memories of Nicholas and our time together haunted me. The laughter we shared, the plans we made, all felt like a cruel joke now. I would often find myself staring at old photos, wondering where it all went wrong.
In the end, I realized that I deserved better. I deserved someone who would cherish me and remain faithful. As we began to pick up the pieces of my broken heart, I vowed never to let anyone let me feel this way again. The road to healing was long, but I knew I had the strength to walk it.
Nicholas had been trying to win me back ever since the night I found out about him cheating with his ex. Every attempt he made seemed to only reopen old wounds.
"Y/n, please, I made a mistake," Nicholas pleaded, his voice raw with emotion as we stood in my living room. "I want us to work things out."
My eyes flashed with hurt and anger. "A mistake? You think you can just say sorry and everything will be okay?" I retorted, my voice trembling. "You wanted to have both of us, Nicholas. You can't have it both ways."
Nicholas ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his posture. "I know I messed up, but I love you, y/n. Please, I can't lose you." He begged.
"Love?" I scoffed, shaking my head. "Are you hearing yourself!? Just stop, Nicholas, stop bullshiting me, If you loved me, you wouldn't have betrayed me like that. You can't just expect me to forgive and forget."
The argument intensified, our voices rising with each exchanged word. The pain and betrayal were too fresh, too deep for me to simply move past. Nicholas's attempts to reconcile only seemed to make things worse, as the reality of his actions continued to drive a wedge between us.
In the end, the conversation left us both emotionally drained, with Nicholas realizing that some mistakes couldn't be easily undone, and I was struggling to protect my heart from further hurt.
#nicholas alexander chavez#nicholas chavez#nicholas chavez imagine#nicholas chavez x reader#nicholas chavez x y/n#nicholaschavezimagines#nicholas alexander chavez imagines#nicholas chavez imagines
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When the night stripped him of his leaderâs attire, when the day began to sleep, and when stillness reigned around him, Suguru always returned to the same photographs. Like every hipster teenager of the 2000s, the curse manipulator had his analog camera. A Zenit E, to be precise. Always by his side, it was his faithful companion through countless journeys around the world that his strange and curious profession took him on. Well, the camera andâŠhim.
âA photographer is nothing without his muse,â Satoru would say flirtatiously, posing casually, his head resting on his hands, his long legs stretching nearly the full length of the bench, and his lashes, violet curtains shielding the depth of that gaze from any unworthy mortal.
Suguru lit a cigarette and studied that photograph intently. Summer orâŠspring? His mind blurred the intensity of the sunlight that reflected, scorching and fierce, in those eyes.
He sighed. It couldnât be any other way, because Suguru firmly believed that Satoruâs eyes were the most captivating and bewildering thing about him. With a blue so intense it seemed to defy the laws of nature, they had an almost supernatural glow, as if they held a fragment of the sky itself or of some impossible ocean. When he looked at them up close, Suguru felt he could get lost in themâno, he could drown in them, as if those two blue abysses could pull him into another world, one where time stopped, and only they existed, sharing a truth that only their gazes could express.
âCome on, Suguru. Is it that hard to click?â Satoru would say, feigning annoyance, while he watched with satisfaction the lovestruck look his best friend wore behind the lens.
âThe hard part is something else,â Suguru would mutter, trying to focus on that small pair of galaxies.
Inhale. Exhale. The smoke drifting toward those impossible eyes that stared back from the worn-out paper.
He held the photo up to the light as he lay back. There was something deeply seductive in the way Satoru looked at him, with that blend of curiosity and certainty, as if he didnât need to say a word to make Suguru feel understood and, at the same time, completely exposed. It was a disarming gaze, light and playful on the surface, but with a latent intensity only Suguru could recognize. In those moments, when their eyes met and Satoru gave him one of those glances, part teasing, part serious, Suguru felt he could see him as he truly was, beneath all his jokes and arrogance: vulnerable, filled with secrets and shared dreams.
Someone only he could truly know.
âCome on, what could be so difficult?â Satoru would ask, opening one of his countless candies. âDo you need my help?â He would chuckle, moving closer to Suguruâs lens.
Suguru swallowed. Satoru knew exactly what he was doing. Satoru, just as he had the first time Suguru saw him, was mesmerizing him with the colors of his irises.
Clicking his tongue, Suguru set the photograph aside. It no longer made sense to think about it. He was there, and he was here. There was a reason, a purpose. No, it was best not to look at it again.
But his eyes couldnât resist their blue call. He was always astonished by the stubbornness of those eyes, which seemed to shift hues with every emotion. Windows to an unknown universe, they could be mysterious and vibrant, yet also warm when his pupils dilated slightly, reflecting an immense affection. He knew most people felt intimidated by the intensity of that gaze, but to him, it was his refuge, his safe place.
âThe hard part is capturing them,â he murmured, as his finger clicked to capture the moment.
âWhy, Suguru?â Gojo whispered, pressing his unforgiving face even closer.
Suguru of that time hadnât answered him. He couldnât find the words. But ten years later, a longing leader caressed what remained of an image as fleeting as that spring.
âBecause, beneath all your energy,â he murmured, recalling those two daring teenagers, âyou looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered in the world.â
And in those moments, Suguru understood why those eyes, beyond their beauty, were the most captivating thing about him.
đ§żđ§żđ§ż-đ§żđ§żđ§ż
Art by instagram.com/may_illustman
#stsg#stsg brainrot#jjk stsg#gojo x geto#geto suguru#satosugu#gojo satoru#satosugu fanart#stsg fanfic#stsg fluff
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PAIRING : Naruto Uzumaki x GN!Reader,
GENRE : fluff
WC : 1.3k
SUMMARY : Naruto starts noticing a shift in his feelings, a warmth that goes beyond friendship. As memories resurface and new emotions grow, he realizes thereâs one person whoâs always seen him for who he truly isâand means more to him than he ever expected.
CONTENT/WARNINGS : mild violence, heartfelt moments, a soft transition from friendship to romance, no use of y/n, just lmk if I missed anythingâŠ!
The first time heâd seen you again after three years, he was stunned.
It wasnât just that youâd grown taller, or that your smile was brighter, or even that you seemed to carry yourself with a confidence he hadnât seen before. It was something deeper, something he couldnât quite put into words. As he stood in front of you, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck, he felt this pang in his chestâa feeling heâd never experienced before.
You greeted him with that same warmth youâd had since you were kids, the same smile that had always welcomed him on his toughest days. Naruto realized, with a mix of awe and confusion, that he hadnât been able to forget that smile during his training with Jiraiya, no matter how hard he tried to focus on his new jutsus or pushing past his limits. Somewhere, deep down, heâd been waiting to come home to that familiar face.
In the days following his return, Naruto noticed that things felt both the same and completely different between you. You laughed together, like you always had. You joked, shared memories, and talked for hours. But every now and then, Naruto would catch himself watching you just a bit too long, feeling his heart pound in a way that made him fumble over his words.
âWhatâs going on with me?â heâd mutter to himself, lying on his bed at night, staring up at the ceiling. Youâd always been his best friend, his first friendâthe one person whoâd never seen him as just the Nine-Tails kid. You had seen him, truly seen him, when no one else had.
For weeks, he wrestled with this strange, growing feeling. He didnât know how to handle it, didnât even know if it was something he could handle. But each time he saw you smile, each time you reached out to support him, Naruto felt that tug in his chest, and he realized that he didnât want to ignore it. He wanted to understand it. He wanted to understand you.
Months passed, and Naruto grew stronger, as did his bond with you. Then came the attack on the village. When Pain tore through Konoha, Naruto fought harder than he ever had before, not just for the village, but for everyone he cared aboutâand you were at the top of that list. Through each punch, each jutsu, he held onto the thought of protecting the people he loved.
The village hailed him as a hero after that battle. People who had once looked down on him now cheered for him. They clapped him on the shoulder, they smiled, they praised him. It felt⊠good, but also strange. Naruto had always dreamed of being acknowledged by the village, but now that he had it, he realized something important.
All this time, when people hadnât cared, when theyâd treated him like an outcast, you had been the one standing by his side. You had seen him for who he was, and your support had never wavered. Naruto had always thought heâd wanted the approval of the entire village, but now he realized that your belief in him meant more than anything else.
And thatâs when it hit him. Youâd been there for him, always. Through every failure, every triumph, every moment of doubt and every rare victory, youâd been his rock. And in the middle of that realization, Naruto finally understood the feeling heâd been carrying since he came back from training.
He was in love with you.
A few months after the battle, Naruto invited you over to his apartment one evening. He didnât know why, exactly. Maybe he was tired of keeping this feeling to himself, or maybe he just needed to be near you, to remind himself of everything youâd been through together. But tonight, he felt different. He felt ready.
You were sprawled on his couch, laughing about some memory from your childhood. Naruto watched you, a fond smile playing at his lips. It amazed him how easily you could talk to him, how you seemed to know exactly what he needed, even when he didnât. For a moment, he got lost in the way you lookedâcomfortable, at home. The way you always looked around him.
âSo, Naruto,â you said, breaking his train of thought, âwhat are you going to do now that the whole village loves you?â You raised an eyebrow, teasing him. âGuess Iâll have to get used to sharing you.â
He felt his heart skip at that. âI donât⊠want to be shared,â he replied quietly, surprising even himself with how serious he sounded.
You tilted your head, curiosity sparking in your eyes. âWhat do you mean?â
Naruto took a deep breath. Heâd been practicing how he would say this for weeks, running through scenarios in his mind. But now that he was sitting here, looking at you, he realized that words wouldnât come easily. Still, he couldnât hold it in any longer.
âI mean⊠I donât want anyone else,â he said, his voice barely above a whisper. âI donât want to share what I have with you. I want it to just⊠be us.â
Your expression softened, but you didnât speak, waiting for him to continue. Narutoâs hands were trembling as he reached out and took your hand in his, a gesture heâd never dared to make before. The warmth of your skin against his sent a wave of courage through him.
âWhen I was training with Jiraiya-sensei, I couldnât stop thinking about you,â he admitted, his cheeks flushed. âNo matter how hard I tried, you were always there. In my mind, I mean. And when I came back, I didnât understand what I was feeling. I thought maybe it would go away. But it didnât. And then⊠after the fight with Pain, when everyone started caring, I realized something. I realized that no oneâs ever cared about me the way you have. No oneâs ever seen me like you do.â
Naruto took a deep breath, his blue eyes searching yours. âYouâve been there for me, through everything. You didnât care about the Nine-Tails, or how everyone else looked at me. You just⊠cared about me. And now⊠now I think I know why that matters so much to me.â
He paused, his heart pounding, every nerve in his body on edge. âI think⊠no, I know⊠that Iâm in love with you.â
The words hung in the air, and Naruto felt his face go warm as he finally, finally said it. For the first time in his life, he was vulnerable, baring his heart to the one person he knew would never hurt it.
You looked at him, and for a terrifying moment, he couldnât read your expression. Then, slowly, a smile spread across your faceâa smile that melted every ounce of anxiety inside him.
âOh, NarutoâŠâ You squeezed his hand, your voice soft. âIâve always been here because I love you, too. I donât think thereâs been a day where I havenât wanted to be by your side.â
The relief and joy that washed over him was overwhelming. He felt like his chest would burst, like heâd found something he didnât even know heâd been searching for.
Without thinking, he leaned in, closing the distance between you. Your lips met, soft and warm, and for that brief moment, nothing else existed. The village, the battles, the worldâthey all faded away, leaving just the two of you in a moment that was perfect, that was everything heâd ever wanted.
When he pulled back, Naruto looked at you, his heart still racing, his hand still holding yours tightly. âI donât know what the future holds,â he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. âBut I know that whatever happens⊠I want you with me. Always.â
You smiled, resting your forehead against his. âAlways,â you echoed, your voice filled with the same promise.
And for the first time in his life, Naruto felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be. Right there, with you, the person whoâd always been there, the one who had seen him at his worst and stayed. The person he loved.
#áŻâ
đđ đđđđđ#naruto Uzumaki#naruto uzumaki x reader#naruto#naruto shippuden#naruto x y/n#naruto x you#naruto shippuden x reader#naruto x reader#naruto fluff#naruto uzumaki x you#uzumaki naruto#naruto uzumaki fluff#naruto shippuden fluff#naruto x reader fluff#naruto uzumaki x reader fluff#naruto x gn!reader
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can you compete? | pedri gonzalez
đŸ synopsis: Youâre a young, rising Spanish tennis player focused on success. But focus is harder to keep when your condo neighbor happens to be Pedri GonzĂĄlez. He thinks youâd make a perfect team; youâre convinced heâs nothing but a distraction. warnings: light enemy-to-lovers vibes, fluff and mentions of alcohol consumption. (around 3.2k words)
part 1
Itâs early morning in Barcelona, and youâre grateful for the quietness. These moments, the rare times youâre actually home, are precious to you. Itâs just you, your racket, and the comforting rhythm of a tennis ball echoing off your condoâs shared court.
Youâre midway through a rally with yourself when you sense him leaning against the gate. Heâs watching â no, studying you. And he doesnât bother hiding it.
Itâs almost embarrassing how often youâve been catching sight of him lately â like the universe is playing a joke on you. Every time you glance up from the courts or the gym, heâs there, flashing an annoyingly perfect grin at anyone who looks his way.
And everyoneâs always looking.
Youâve heard all the stories, of course. That heâs a playboy, a heartthrob, the kind of guy who seems to walk into every room with his own spotlight. His type is trouble for someone like you, focused, aiming high. You donât need a distraction that comes with a fan club.
But then, here he is, leaning casually on the chain-link fence at the edge of the court, watching you with a crooked smile that makes your pulse kick up. Heâs not even pretending to play it cool, and that makes you want to hit your next serve a little harder.
âTrying to impress me?â His voice carries across the empty court, the hint of a challenge lighting up his eyes.
You roll your eyes, hoping he doesnât see the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. âNot everythingâs about you, you know.â
He laughs, pushing off the fence and jogging over to where you stand.Â
âAlright, fair, maybe Iâm the one trying to impress you.â
âDonât you have a game to train for?â you say, catching the ball mid-bounce, one eyebrow raised.Â
âIâd rather watch you,â he replies, completely unbothered. Itâs easy to see why heâs got a reputation: handsome, self-assured, carrying a charm that, by now, must be fine-tuned.
You roll your eyes, turning back to your practice, but you can feel his eyes on you. Itâs hard to ignore the magnetic pull, the way he just⊠assumes. Like thereâs no reason you wouldnât feel the same spark he claims to see.
For him, it probably makes perfect sense â two rising stars, two athletes pushing the boundaries, both of you Spanish, both young, single and pretty. He probably thinks youâd make some kind of dream team.
But for you? Youâre not sure you want the spotlight blending with your private life. Yet here he is, waiting, watching.
You toss the ball up for another serve, ignoring the way his presence makes the air feel charged. You tell yourself it doesnât matter that heâs watching, that your focus is on the court. But when you glance over and heâs still there, a spark of determination flickers through you.
You could show him, really show him, what focus looks like.
âWant to join?â you call over, keeping your tone nonchalant.
His eyes widen a fraction, surprised at your invitation, but then he grins, crossing the court toward you. âThink you can handle it?â
You donât bother replying; you just toss him a spare racket and settle into position. His confidence doesnât faze you. You know your game, and as he takes his stance, you can see heâs trying to match the intensity in your eyes.
The rally begins, and it doesnât take long to feel the rhythm of the game settle into place. Heâs athletic, fast, clearly used to dominating on a field, but itâs different here. On the court, you know how to control each swing, each movement, the pace building until heâs panting, chasing after shots that hit just out of reach.
He misses a return, and you catch a quick, surprised look flashing across his face. Itâs almost funny.Â
âYouâre really good,â he says, breathless, as he jogs back to his position.
You shrug, adjusting your grip on the racket. âDidnât think Iâd have to go easy on you.â
His laugh is loud, echoing around the empty court. âAlright, I get it. No mercy, then.â He wipes his brow with the back of his hand, and when you serve again, heâs throwing himself into every swing with even more energy, trying to keep up.
You keep pushing, refusing to let him break your concentration, but thereâs something amusing about watching him struggle to meet your pace. The confidence he wore so easily when he first arrived is slowly giving way to real effort. A few more rounds, and you can tell heâs getting frustrated â and determined, his movements sharper, his brow furrowing as he chases down each shot.
But then, he misses again, his racket slicing through air, and he doubles over, panting.Â
âOkay, I admit it,â he says between breaths, grinning up at you. âYouâre better than I thought.â
âThanks,â you say, barely out of breath, relishing the look on his face. Youâre both laughing, the tension between you feeling easier now, almost natural.
And then he pulls his shirt over his head, wiping his face as he does, revealing a torso thatâs as infuriatingly perfect as his smile. He catches you glancing, and his smile widens, clearly pleased with himself.
âTrying to distract me?â you question, raising an eyebrow.
âIs it working?â he shoots back, his voice full of playful arrogance as he drapes the shirt over his shoulder.
You shake your head, scoffing, but canât help the small smile that tugs at your lips. Youâre still not interested in the distraction, but you canât deny heâs entertaining to have around.
âIâm Pedri, by the way.â He finally introduces himself, sticking out a hand.
âYes, I know,â you reply, just barely resisting the urge to roll your eyes. âAnd you know who I am too, donât you?â
He nods like heâs pleased you called him out. "Of course I do. Hard not to know."
Itâs strange, though â after all the crossed paths and stolen glances, this is the first time youâve actually exchanged names. His hand is warm when you shake it, and thereâs an easy confidence in his grip.
âIt's funny, right? Somehow, we never got around to introductions,â Pedri says.
You shrug, pulling your hand back. âGuess it didnât seem necessary.â
âOr maybe you were avoiding it,â he teases, letting his eyes linger just a bit longer than usual. âHard to get close to you, isnât it?â
âIâm just here to train.â
His laughter fills the empty court. âYeah, I noticed that,â he says, running a hand through his hair. âAnd I thought I worked hard.â
âSome of us donât rely on charm alone,â you counter, tossing the ball up for another serve.
He watches, and though his expression is playful, thereâs something else in his eyes â an understanding, maybe, or a spark of recognition. You might both play different sports, but in some way, he seems to get it: the drive, the endless hours, the need to push yourself to the edge.
For a second, heâs just another athlete, a competitor with the same fire you have.
Then he breaks the silence. âMaybe Iâll have to start coming to the court more often. Could use a rival like you.â
âOr someone to keep you humble,â you add.
part 2
You didnât expect to see him here, not like this, face flushed and bright from a few too many drinks, eyes lighting up the moment you step into the room. Youâre barely through the door when Pedri spots you; he makes his way over, steady but just a little wobbly, and you brace yourself for whatever antics he might have up his sleeve tonight.
âHey, superstar,â he greets you with a dramatic flair, slinging an arm over your shoulder like heâs known you forever. âYouâre late.â He says it as though heâs been waiting all night just to see you, like maybe his whole nightâs been on pause until now.
Your friends exchange looks, hiding laughs, but Pedri doesnât notice. Heâs too busy guiding you toward the kitchen, asking if youâve eaten yet, if you need a drink, if youâre âsure those heels are comfortableâ because they look way too high. Heâs eyeing them like theyâre an injury waiting to happen.
âCareful,â he says, putting a hand on your elbow as you step over a stack of cups. âDonât need you twisting your ankle, okay? Theyâre valuable assets to Spain.â
Turns out your friend whoâs turning 21 today is actually a mutual friend, and Pedri makes sure to explain that detail to you, like heâd hoped it would be his ticket to seeing you here tonight.
Youâre not usually one to drink, but come on, tonight is your close friendâs birthday party, it feels impossible to say no. And a couple of drinks? Whatâs the worst that could happen? Itâs almost the end of the year, and the seasons have been bleeding together â match after match, the endless bounce of the ball inside those white lines. Youâre not quite at burnout, but youâre close enough to feel it hovering around the edges. So you let yourself have a little fun.
After a couple of drinks, youâre as drunk as everyone else in the room, feeling light and fuzzy. And suddenly, Pedri makes all the sense in the world. Youâre both nestled together on the couch, close enough to feel the warmth of his arm draped around you, the noise of the party fading in the background as you both look at each other like the world just zoomed in on you two. For anyone outside, itâs a ridiculous sight.
Pedri leans close, his mouth just by your ear. âDo you need water? Iâll get you some water.â His voice is earnest, like heâs on a mission, and before you can respond, heâs up, making his way across the room in a slightly unsteady line.
The moment heâs gone, your friends are on you, smirking and whispering. âOh, heâs definitely into you,â one of them laughs.
You roll your eyes, trying to downplay the warmth creeping up your cheeks. âHeâs like that with everybody,â you murmur, brushing it off just as he returns.
âNot everyone, no,â he meets your eyes with a seriousness that catches you off guard. âJust you.â he says, his words drenched in sincerity. And it might have been more meaningful if he didnât almost drop the glass of water as he tried to hand it over.
You laugh, steadying the glass in his hands. âMaybe you need this more than I do,â you tease, guiding the water to his lips and watching as he drinks.
âLetâs get you some fresh air,â you say, placing a steady hand on his back as you guide him outside the party.
Outside, the night air is cool, and youâre both silent for a moment, just letting it clear your heads. Then, Pedri leans against the wall, hands in his pockets.
"I havenât been to one of these in a while," he admits, glancing around.
"You mean a party?â you laugh, raising an eyebrow.
âYeah, Iâm serious,â he says, his tone soft but serious. âIâve been working hard, trying to stay in good shape. And when I found out about tonight, I just thought... well, Iâd probably get a chance to see you here. I figured it was worth coming. Then you didnât show up for a while, and I thought, okay, maybe Iâll have a few drinks and head home. And now⊠now Iâm half-drunk and probably made a complete fool of myself in front of you.â
You feel the warmth creeping up your cheeks, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. His confession hangs between you, and for a second, itâs almost too much. Youâre not ready for this â at least, not tonight.
âI know what itâs like, not having time for parties or friends,â you say, looking anywhere but at him. âIâm just⊠Iâm just glad weâre getting to have fun tonight.â
Heâs quiet for a beat, and when you finally look back at him, thereâs something unreadable in his gaze â a hint of disappointment, maybe.
âYeah,â he says, nodding slowly, his smile dimming a little. âMe too. Iâm glad weâre both here.â He straightens up, brushing the moment aside. âDo you want to go back inside? I think Iâm feeling better now.â
Inside, Pedri keeps his distance, giving you space to be with your friends. Thereâs a subtle shift in him, like heâs taken a small step back, maybe a little hurt by how you brushed off his words earlier. But even with the room heâs given you, your eyes keep finding him across the crowd, drawn back to him.
As the party winds down, your sober friend offers to drive you both home. You and Pedri are tipsy, giggly, and hushed into the back seat, his shoulder pressing against yours. Every little bump on the road sets you both off into laughter over nothing in particular, the comfortable kind of closeness you wouldnât have allowed at the start of the night.
When the car pulls up in front of your place, you both stumble out, waving goodbye to your friend as they drive off. Pedri follows you to your door, hands in his pockets. Thereâs a quiet pause between you, and for a moment, everything feels lighter, warmer.
Without much thought, you lean in, ready to end the night with a kiss. But he puts a hand up, stopping you gently.
âNo, wait,â he says. He scratches the back of his neck, glancing down before meeting your eyes again. âI want to do this right, you know? Take you on a real date.â
You blink, surprised, his words taking a second to sink in. He stands there looking different somehow â uncertain in a way thatâs almost too sincere.
âWhy?â you ask, brushing off your own awkwardness with a smile. âWhat if I donât feel the same way tomorrow?â
He laughs, but thereâs determination in his words. âThen Iâll ask you tomorrow. And weâll see.â
Itâs hard to tell if heâs playing some long game or if he actually means it. But tonight, you decide not to question it. You nod, turning your key in the door, and before stepping inside, you shoot him a small smile.
âGoodnight, Pedri,â you say, not entirely sure about what comes next.
part 4
The court feels different this morning. Usually, itâs your escape â a place where everything falls into rhythm. But today, every bounce of the ball feels heavier, slower. You keep glancing toward the gate, distracted, wondering if heâll actually show up. The fact that youâre even hoping he will surprises you.
Finally, after what feels like forever, you catch sight of him. Heâs lingering at the fence, scanning the court with a nervous edge before his eyes settle on you. Thereâs a hesitation in his expression you havenât seen before. Itâs a strange look for him.
Youâre sweating from practice, and as soon as you realize how out of breath and flushed you must look, a wave of self-consciousness hits. Youâre suddenly aware of every strand of hair stuck to your forehead and every patch of dampness on your shirt. Not exactly how you pictured this moment, but thereâs no backing out now.
âHey,â he says, stepping onto the court with a tentative smile.
âHey,â you reply, doing your best to keep it casual as you wipe your forehead with the back of your hand. âYouâre here.â
âYeah,â he chuckles, scratching the back of his neck as he glances around like heâs never been on a court before. âI told you Iâd show up.â
You both fall silent for a second, and itâs almost...awkward. Heâs usually so confident, but today thereâs something different â a softness, maybe even a hint of uncertainty. Like heâs trying to gauge if youâre still open to this, whatever this is.
You hand him the spare racket, and he takes it with a sheepish grin. âPromise you wonât be too hard on me?â
âNo promises,â you tease, falling into an easy rally.
As you both start hitting back and forth, the tension loosens, replaced by a comfortable rhythm. Heâs not half bad, but youâre still making him chase the ball from one end of the court to the other. Itâs fun watching him struggle, laughing every time he stumbles but refusing to give up.
âWow,â he says, catching his breath, âThis is... intense.â
You shrug, laughing. âOr maybe youâre just out of shape.â
He shakes his head, laughing along. But then he stops, staring at you for just a second too long.
âYou should go on a date with me.â His voice is soft, almost vulnerable.
You blink, momentarily caught off guard. âA date?â You toss the ball lightly in your hand, trying to keep your composure.
âYeah.â He nods, his eyes not leaving yours, searching for your reaction. âI know Iâm probably out of my league here, but I thought it was worth a shot. Just one date.â
Thereâs something disarming about his honesty. You hadnât expected this level of sincerity from him, especially not after the way he usually carries himself. You bounce the ball again, the motion a nervous habit. âWhat makes you think you can keep up with me?â you ask, attempting to sound playful.
He laughs, reaching up to catch the ball mid-bounce. âIâm tougher than I look,â he says, holding the ball out to you, but when you reach for it, he keeps it just out of your reach, a playful challenge.
âOh, I see,â you say, trying to swipe it from him, but he pulls back, chuckling.
In the end, you stop reaching. You pause, crossing your arms, your heart racing. âOkay,â you say finally, surprising yourself with your willingness. âOne date.â
His eyes light up with delight, and the earlier hesitation fades. âSo, are you going to let me kiss you after the date?â you ask, half-joking, remembering how he held back after the party.
He gets serious for a second, then breaks into a big smile. âYou can kiss me right now if you want!â
You laugh nervously, hyper-aware of the sweat on your skin. âI donât know⊠I feel kind of gross right now.â
He shrugs, totally unfazed. âI really donât mind at all.â
The sincerity in his voice cuts through your self-consciousness, and before you can second-guess yourself, you step forward and press your lips to his.Â
The kiss is sweet and a little messy, but honestly? Itâs everything you didnât even know you needed. Itâs like a light switch flipped on, sparking something deep inside you. For that moment, the whole world outside the court just fades away. His lips are soft, and thereâs this warmth spreading through you, making you forget all about the awkwardness from just a second ago.
When you pull back, youâre both breathless, caught in the moment, and the connection is still buzzing between you. His eyes are wide, like he canât believe what just happened, and itâs kind of adorable watching him process it all. You canât help but smile back at him. Seeing him distracted, you reach for the tennis ball in his hand. âSee you on our one date, then.â
He just stares as you walk away, surprise and delight flickering across his face. âHey, you canât just run off with that!â
You laugh and give him a cheeky wave over your shoulder as you head off.
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Wolverine, Cyclops, and Learning to Respect Your Rival in Love
I have thoughts on Logan and Scottâs relationship in the Fox films. (Iâve never read the comics; this is strictly a commentary on the movie-verse.)
I always say ship and let ship. If you wanna look at these two through shipperâs goggles, fine. I wonât stop you.
But when I look at these two, I donât really see something shippy. I see something actually quite remarkable, something that is very rarely depicted between rivals in an onscreen love triangle, and something that speaks to Loganâs incredible character development.
We are used to love triangles where the rivals despise each other to the point of competing, name-calling, fistfighting, and even duels to the death. Two people who have the same love interest are stereotyped time and again in fiction as bitter enemies who donât care about the otherâs wellbeing at all.
But Logan and Scott are different. Loganâs feelings toward Scott have a total 180 arc throughout the series, and itâs a phenomenal piece of character growth to witness.
X1 and X2
Itâs no secret that they start off very jealous of each other and there is a mutual dislike as a result. They both want Jean. Logan is upset that Scott already has Jean, and Scott is upset that Logan is trying to steal her away. And letâs be honest, Logan is pretty disrespectful to both Jean and Scottâs feelings in the first two films. He shows no shame in flirting with Scottâs girlfriend in front of him and trying to get her to cheat on Scott when Scott has been kidnapped. When Jean insists she loves Scott, Logan just asks âdo you?â as though she doesnât mean it, and then kisses her despite her saying no. His desperation for love and attention makes him disregard and try to ruin Jean and Scottâs committed relationship. Itâs not good behavior, and itâs probably Loganâs greatest character flaw in X1 and X2. Scott has every right to hate Logan for this.
But then something changes.
Then Jean disappears and is presumed dead.
Suddenly Logan and Scott have something in common. Suddenly they both are thrown into unimaginable grief and agony. Suddenly they are sharing something.
And then Logan comes clean with Scott. âShe did make a choice. She chose you.â Finally, he understands Scott and says something respectful to him.
The Last Stand
And then a few years later, Jean reappears, not herself, and it is Scott who vanishes. Suddenly Jean is not only alive, but kissing Logan just as he has always desired. He becomes lost in the passion for a moment, because omg this is it, she changed her mind, she wants me, miracles do happen ⊠The Logan of X1 and X2 wouldâve gone all the way with Jean/Phoenix with zero hesitation.
But then Logan does something incredibly admirable and mature.
He stops.
He lets himself think, and he realizes: This isnât Jean. The Jean he knew committed herself to Scott. The Jean he knew loved Scott, not him. This is wrong. Sheâs suddenly making a move on him, with no mention of Scott? This canât be right.
So he asks what happened to Scott.
Scott, a man who Logan once dreamed of getting out of his way, is now a man whose life actually matters to Logan.
Then the rest of The Last Stand happens, and everything falls apart.
Days of Future Past
And then comes the greatest test that Logan has ever faced when it comes to this messy love triangle.
He travels back in time to change history. Back to a time before Jean and Scott ever met, before he ever met them. He finds himself sitting before a young Charles, the man who introduced Jean and Scott in the first place, wbo introduced him to his beloved Jean and to Scott in the first place. A young Charles who has read his mind and seen his memories of his love for Jean.
And here, right in front of him, is an opportunity to get what he wouldâve done anything to get in X1 and X2. A chance to perhaps prevent Charles from ever introducing Jean and Scott, so he can be with Jean in the new future. To not tell Charles about Scott, to only tell him the names of Jean and his other friends like Storm to ensure they are still with the X-Men in the future.
But instead? He says this:
âPromise me youâll find us. Storm. Scott. Jean. Remember those names.â
He mentions Scott! He mentions the man who he once envied, who held Jeanâs heart and held onto it even as Logan gave his own heart to her. A man whose life and future he has now learned to appreciate and grow protective of.
He lets go of his jealousy, of his resentment, of his own desires. He honors Jean and Scottâs feelings, not his own.
He makes sure that Jean and Scott will still meet in the new timeline, that Charles will still bring them together, that their love will still grow this time around.
Then he goes back to the future and finds that it worked beyond his expectations. The Last Stand never happened. Jean and Scott are alive, well, and together.
In the end, Logan finally understands that Jean and Scott truly belong to each other, and that he was wrong to get in the middle, and so he sets off the domino effect that ultimately creates true happiness for Jean and Scott.
Logan changes from prioritizing his own feelings to prioritizing Jean and Scottâs feelings. He goes from trying to break up Jean and Scott, to personally ensuring that Jean and Scott still find each other even when history itself has changed.
Rather than destroy his rival in love, Logan instead ensures his rivalâs salvation.
If that isnât character development, I donât know what is.
#xmcu#x men#jott#jogan#love triangle#x men films#x men movies#logan howlett#scott summers#jean grey#wolverine#cyclops#xmen meta#fox xmen#mutants#wolverine xmen#logan xmen#cyclops xmen#jean grey xmen#x1#x2#x3#x2 x men united#x men the last stand#x men days of future past#xmdofp#xmen logan#xmen wolverine#xmen cyclops#xmen jean grey
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A secret
Tomioka is the first to find out, it's not a surprise actually, ever since Tanjirou came back from his mission in the Red light District and had to spend a lot of time recovering in the butterfly estate the Pillars got to know him better and of course... They fell for him.
Now they try to spend all the free time they have with him; yes, Zenitsu thinks it's incredibly annoying because Tanjirou is his friend and because of that he has to endure watching the Pillars making heart eyes at him.
It's really weird.
However, he's not that irritated because of that, but actually because Tomioka approaches them late at night, after a long training session and he finds Tanjirou asleep, sitting against a tree in the backyard.
Tomioka sees him and because he's just like the others (even though he manages to keep a neutral expression most of the time) he volunteers to take Tanjirou back to his room.
All the hashira would take any opportunity just to touch Tanjirou and Zenitsu knows it; now, he would like to tell him that Inosuke and he can take care of that themselves, but the truth is that he's still too scared of the Pillars to tell them "no" so the water hashira leans closer and lifts Tanjirou up.
Unfortunately, Tanjirou does the thing, the same thing Zenitsu wanted to keep as a secret; so far only Inosuke, Nezuko and he knew about Tanjirou's habit of cuddling anyone who had the fortune of sleeping next to him.
Even asleep, Tanjirou gives the best cuddles and Zenitsu didn't want to share that information with anyone else.
It's too late now though.
Tanjirou smiles in his sleep and nuzzles gently against Tomioka's chest before sighing happily, prompting the hashira to freeze and turn bright red.
"Does he always do that when he's asleep?"
Zenitsu has the feeling that the water hashira would know if he lied so he answers reluctantly.
"Yes. I think... I think it's because he had many siblings," he mumbles; he knows he was the oldest so the little ones probably went to him for comfort in the middle of the night whenever they had a bad dream.
"I see... Maybe I should stay with him in his room, he'll probably sleep better if someone is cuddling himâ"
"Then he'll feel more safe if he feels someone like me cuddling him..."
To Zenitsu's irritation not only Uzui is there but the other Pillars as well.
He can hear their interest as well as their jealousy while Tanjirou sighs and nuzzles against Tomioka again.
This is not fair, Tanjirou only becomes physically affectionate in his sleep around Zenitsu and Inosuke and it feels wrong to have to share that with nine people who are going to use that information as much as they can.
Kanroji is about to pout and say something when Tomioka stops her before she can speak.
"Don't wake him up. Listen, I'll sit here so he can sleep on my lap and after a couple of minutes one of you takes my place. We can share."
Everyone agrees, which is not a surprise because they're ridiculously besotted at this point and would do anything to have Tanjirou in their arms.
Rengoku is almost shaking with excitement; that hashira doesn't know the meaning of personal space, especially around Tanjirou, so being given the opportunity to hold the boy so close to him is doing things to him.
They all are ridiculous, even Shinazugawa, the scariest hashira is there, waiting for his turn to cuddle Tanjirou like he's a wild, grumpy cat who's starving for affection.
Fortunately, Inosuke comes running towards them and screams "Monjiro!" before any of the Pillars can do something about it.
Even Himejima looks displeased with the interruption.
"Inosuke? Oh, Tomioka-san! Sorry, did I fall asleep on you?" Tanjirou quickly moves away and sits on the ground instead before noticing the others. "Oh, hi!"
"Don't mind us, Tanjirou," Tokito says. "You go back to sleep again if you're tired."
"Maybe I should go to my room then..."
"No!" Iguro blurts out and blushes as soon as he realizes what he did. "I mean you can stay here... We don't mind."
"You can sit on my lap, my boy! It's really comfortable!"
"My wives want to see you again, Tanjirou. Why don't you stay with us for a couple of days?"
"I can teach you meditation that'll help you sleep more peacefully," Himejima offers at the same time the others speak.
Zenitsu rolls his eyes.
"It's fine. I'll go to Nezuko's room actually..."
Even Kocho groans at that, they know they have no chance against the demon girl; she won't let any of them near her brother.
That's one of the things Zenitsu loves about her. However, he knows the next days, maybe weeks aren't going to be easy; he can tell everyone is already planning how to make Tanjirou fall asleep near them.
It's going to be a nightmare.
***
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#kny#kimetsu no yaiba#demon slayer#tanjiro kamado#zenitsu agatsuma#kyojuro rengoku#giyu tomioka#sanemi shinazugawa#shinobu kochou#gyomei himejima#tengen uzui#obanai iguro#muichiro tokito#kanjori mitsuri#giyutan#kyotan
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Every word of this was breathtaking, Tara! đ©” I am a mess in the best way. I loved reading this, and then reading it again!
The imagery of water all throughout is so beautiful itâs like you captured the sea as its own character, incredibly powerful and deadly bringing these two together and at the same time almost parting them foreverâitâs haunting and Iâm so in awe!
Goshhh how close they both were to drowning genuinely made my heart beat a little quicker you are so talented at evoking emotions and I could picture her trying to keep him afloat in the water vividly, her struggle to keep swimming and trying to save him too, how it would be easy to give in because sheâs exhausted but she doesnât đ„ș she looks at Kinoâs face and keeps on swimming and I just !!!!!! ahhhh my heart that was such a profound moment that said a lot underneath what was happening!
The waves lap at your face, forcing salt up your nose on an inhale. You splutter, losing your grip on that arm slung across your shoulders, and for a moment it slips. You kick frantically at the water as you scramble for him.
Like! Once again Iâm transported right to where they are and it feels like Iâm in the water too, itâs sooo good I love how you wrote the beginning sequences, all the tension and desperation, the loss of time and being surrounded by water and then the detail of her dreaming of it, reliving it again because that also says so much in itself, all of that was so neat to read
The emotional layers of their own mortality and coming face to face with it also felt so raw and now theyâre just adrift in the aftermath and the reality of escaping the prison while being stuck together whether they want to be or not, it makes for such a compelling and complicated and heart wrenching story and bestie you delivered, you ateee with this I was thinking about this fic for days when I read it
You know youâll have to recommend sharing body heat at some point soon, but youâre reluctant to do so because you also know it wonât go over well. Youâre certain itâs the last thing he wants, even if the alternative is stubbornly dying from exposure.
Ohh KinoâŠlove that stubbornness being ever present, the way you write him does things to me because the way I love how frustrating he can be. Him being like yeah you should have let me drown, ooh this man is aggravating in the âJUST LET ME LOVE YOU IDIOTâ kind of way and you are making me yearn so bad and I will forever be in love with your writing!!
The fact that heâs so hung up on how close of a call it was that she almost died too helpp do I sense âšfeelings âš
Really love how she matches his attitude, she misunderstands his anger and everything heâs holding back as hate towards her and Iâm kind of obsessed with how she gives it back to him when heâs being an ass! And I think itâs because really she cares and so does he, they care so much underneath it all and I simply have to scream about ittt
âYou wanted to die.â The shocked realization tumbles from your lips before you can stop it. âYou donât know what youâre talking about,â he says quietly as he gathers those strong arms around himself and crosses them like a shield.
This line was so good! His body language đ„č
âBecause I was scared shitless about what could happen to you! That place was cruel to the men it was designed for. Whatever it had in store for you was going to be much worse. I thoughtâŠâ He runs a hand down his face and over the scruff of his beardâŠ
Oh there it is! Please, his concern is so deep he was terrified for her from the start oh my godâŠand it makes so much sense why heâd want to try and distance himself, to create a hard line so when the inevitable did happen it wouldnât hurt so bad to see I-
The vulnerability is incredible between them but especially from Kino, the fact that he didnât think he was worth it if she had died saving him wow that hit me like a ton a bricks
This man canât keep getting away with breaking my heart wtf!
TARA THE KISS! The kiss oh my god that was beautiful and the moment right before that with her reassuring him that sheâs right here, they survived and sheâs desperate to get him to see what she sees is literally so tender I have to take a second
I love that he went for it like itâs almost as if he canât keep it back anymore and his apology in words, the way he rests his forehead against hers, the yearning is too real and itâs so amazing to watch these two realize they are breathing and next to one another and this moment is all theirs
Her âshow meâ yesss girl I know thatâs right, she deserves it! They both need this, to come back from the edge of death that theyâve been so close to these handful of days wowww yes this is just perfect and the building up of them finally letting the walls down is everything, I was glued to the words!
He smells like sweat and smoke and saltwater, and his skin is sharp and briny on your tongue, as you lap at a spot on his neck. He tastes like drowningâŠ
I think this may be my favorite line đ„șđ so gorgeous especially that last line oh
Even how he lays her down, itâs different and she can tell heâs making it up to her and all the sensations that are in contrast here too, the hard rock underneath her and the chill air but Kino is covering her and pulling her under a different kind of tide and I am SHOOK at the heat there, the steaminess!
The sounds he makes oh my god heâs so sexy even in this perilous situation I love that they can indulge in the desire for one another, jfc đ„”đ„”đ„” the way he speaks to her, how he doesnât let her look away from him, how he wants to see and hear what heâs doing to her I am in love and in my feels ahhhh
âAbove you, heâs blanketing you in heat and the delicious slide of flesh along your nerves. A lovely contrast already, but then his hand finds your hip, his fingers digging into your fresh bruise, and you gasp from the painâit hurts, but if it hurts that means youâre alive. He doesnât stop at the sound. Instead, thereâs understanding in those eyes as he pulls you in to meet each plunge of his cock, and, oh, thatâs even better.â
NEED THAT OLD MAN SO CARNALLY FR
Literally every word of this felt intentional and swept me right up from the beginning and youâre incredible for sharing this masterpiece with us all!
In the afterglow of it all Kino doesnât shut down! My heart fluttered when he held his arms open for her and she snuggled against him in the endâthe detail about being lost, the unknown is before them and itâs terrifying, they arenât even out of the woods yet and very much still on the run but now they are together, the agreement that theyâll figure it out together in the morningâŠexcuse me I will cry Iâm being so serious right now!
Her insistence and reminder once again that he canât ever tell her heâs not worth it to her, I LOVE IT I LOVE IT SO MUCH đ„Čđ
That little passage at the end you included by Ocean Vuong is so fitting and so beautiful for this story, they became water in the endâŠyour use of symbolism and just the sheer depth of emotions is so stunning and makes it all poignant and moving!
I could rave about this all day truly so thank you for writing this, it was a fantastic read!
Remember You Are Half Water
Pairing: Kino Loy x f!Reader
(7.2 k words)
AO3 link
Summary: Drowning is easy. It's surviving that's hard. Or: After the prison break, you and Kino hide out on Narkina 5.
Warnings: (18+) Explicit, angst, enemies to lovers (kind of), they argue and not in the flirty way, vaginal sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, grim realism, survival situation, descriptions of drowning, descriptions of resuscitation, cpr, thoughts of death, thoughts of dying, talk of dying, mentions of suicidal thoughts, mentions of imprisonment, themes of death, themes of drowning, description of pain, dreams, nightmares, illness, self-indulgent melancholia
A/N: I accidentally wrote this after getting a random idea in my head while working on I Want You to Show Me Weak (my brain will do anything but finish a fic đ), so have a surprise Kino oneshot. Just please mind the tags, especially with the events currently happening in the real world. This isn't a dark fic, but the tone is quite grim. (Mostly. I am still a filthy hopeless romantic, after all.) Also, I'm well aware of what Narkina 5 is supposed to look like, however I simply Do Not care đ
Fic title is from The Penelopiad by Margaret Atwood. Collage quote from Nathaniel Hawthorneâs The Ocean.
For whatever we lose(like a you or a me) itâs always ourselves we find in the sea
- e.e. cummings, maggie and milly and molly and may
Your lungs burn.
There's a weight across your shoulders, pulling you down and under the waves. Your arms are spent and heavy with exhaustion. You have no idea how long youâve been swimmingâdragging something through the water, but your muscles are on fire. Your lungs are on fire. It would be so easy to just give up.
To just let go.
Because you're so tired. Youâve heard drowning isn't so bad. Like going to sleep, they say. You can do that. That's nothing compared to this.
You catch sight of a face at your side, barely breaching the surface. His face. His eyes are closed and his mouth is slack. Like he's sleeping.
You go back to swimming.
âBreathe, goddamn you!â You sob. Even though you're numb from the cold, your hand is trembling as you pound against his back with your fist. Between the shoulder blades, behind his lungs. Every hit makes a wet slap. His white uniform is soaked through and nearly translucent. It clings to him. The water, greedy, still won't let him go. âDon't you fucking do this, you prick! Wake up!â
He doesn't flinch under your assault. Not even when you roll him back over onto the rocky sand and press a rhythm into his ribs.
This is worse, you think, because now you can see his face and feel the ghost of his angry stare, even through his closed eyelids. His skin is grey and clammy, his lips nearly blue, and his beard and hair are slick and dark with water. His expression is relaxed. Peaceful. Not asleep. He's never looked like that before. This isn't how he's supposed to look.
The only movement beneath your hands is the jolt of his body from the compressions.
You let out a scream of frustration.
The waves lap at your face, forcing salt up your nose on an inhale. You splutter, losing your grip on that arm slung around your shoulders, and for a moment it slips. You kick frantically at the water as you scramble for him.
âNoââ Your voice gets choked off by the whitecap of another wave.
You grab at his face, drive it back above the surface, even as you plunge below it. Whatever else you were going to shout is lost in a cloud of bubbles. You're the only thing keeping him from sinking to the bottom now. Just you, clinging to the hope of life.
You can't think about that dead weight.
You fight back to the surface with a cough, spitting out a mouthful of saltwater. You have to keep moving. You have to keepâ
Youâre being shaken awake. The hand on your shoulder is warm, but the grip is almost harshâunforgiving as the fingers dig into your flesh.
You blink your eyes open to find Kino staring down at you with a frown. The light from the small fire throws shadows across his face and deepens the lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth and along his forehead, making him look even more severe than he usually does.
âYou were dreaming again,â he grumbles. Then he releases your shoulder without warning, nearly shoving away from you in the process, and he shuffles back across to his side of the small cave to resume lying down.
Now that you're conscious, all of your injuries and pains from the past few days come rushing back to fill your awareness. You let out a groan as you push yourself up off the cold stone floor. Not that sitting is any betterâthereâs a rock digging into your ass to prove your point, and you send it skittering. It doesn't make a difference. With a sigh, you rub the heels of your hands into your heavy eyelids in an attempt to clear the blurriness from your vision.
âSorry,â you try, your voice hoarse with sleep. You quickly clear your throat and try again. âDidn't mean to wake you.â
He only grunts in response.
The sky at the mouth of the cave is a slate grey. Itâs been raining the last few daysâas if the water is trying to follow you ashoreâso you aren't sure if the muted light is the growing dawn or due to the thick storm clouds that leave the landscape darkened, no matter where the sun is overhead. It's made everything damp and chilly, and you can feel it in every joint and bone. Between that, your desperate and adrenaline fueled escape from the prison, nearly drowning, and laying on the hard, rocky ground, your entire body aches.
You're both still wearing your white and orange uniforms, though they're worn and filthy now. More brown than white. The fabric is also next to useless outside of a temperature controlled environment, but you have nothing else to keep you warm and nothing at all for your feet. Youâd gotten lucky that there had been driftwood piled inside the seaside cave, brought in by the tide and left safe from the rain. Kino had found several more pieces along the beach on that first day and dragged them into the shelter to dry out. Neither of you dared to venture any further afterwards, either from fear or exhaustion.
The last of the wood is burning between you, and, when itâs gone, there won't be anything left to keep the chill at bay. You know youâll have to recommend sharing body heat at some point soon, but you're reluctant to do so because you also know it won't go over well. You're certain it's the last thing he wants, even if the alternative is stubbornly dying from exposure.
âThink theyâve moved on yet?â You ask, just to have something to distract you from your thoughts.
âDoubt it,â he replies in that gruff voice.
âYeah,â you sigh. You slump forward and let your forearms rest on your knees, suddenly weary. âBut we're going to have to leave eventually. We need food and real shelter.â
âYouâre too weak to walk it,â he says to the cave wall.
âIâm fine,â you insist.
Kino's head whips around, and he meets your eyes with a glare. âNo, you're not.â You let out a noise of disgust before you can reconsider, and his jaw clenches in response. âYou nearly died.â
âDonât start this again.â You mean it as a plea, but it comes out merely resigned in your exhaustion. Youâve lost count of how many times youâve had this argument since you first woke up to him coughing and shouting on the beach. You don't want to have it again.
âLike youâd listen anyway,â he says. And then he scowls, like you're the problem.
Alright, maybe you'll have it one more time.
âGods, that bit of power really did go straight to your thick skull didn't it?â You laugh in disbelief. âWhy can't you just accept that it was my choice? Mine!â
âIâm well aware of your poor decision making!â He shoots back. Then he sits up to face you, and now it's a proper fight, you think. âIâve already told you, no one was supposed to die because of me!â
âAnd I already told you to get over yourself!â You fight the urge to roll your eyes. âDo I look fucking dead to you? Hmm?â
âDon't act like it wasn't a close call!â
âI never said it wasn't.â You pinch at the bridge of your nose in an attempt to keep your frustration at bay. Screaming won't make him listen to reason, no matter how good it will feel. âWhat would you have had me do, Kino? Just let you drown?â
âYes,â he replies without hesitation.
âWell, I didn't.â Your arm flops to your side, too heavy to hold up now. âSo maybe you should just consider being fucking grateful instead.â
âI didn't ask for this!â He snaps. It's followed by an immediate look of regret.
Oh. That's new. You take a moment to study his faceâthe way he can suddenly no longer meet your eyes, like he's ashamed of all things.
âWhat the fuck is your problem?â
You ignore his sardonic, âYou.â
Because you don't understand him. Is he really this upset or his pride so wounded over the fact that he needed to be saved? Is he truly this angry just because someoneâor more specifically youâsaw him when he was weak after being in control for so long? Those are convenient reasons. They're probably even contributing to his horrid mood, but they don't feel as if theyâre the reason. It's almost as ifâ
âYou wanted to die.â The shocked realization tumbles from your lips before you can stop it.
There's a long, deafening beat of silence.
âYou don't know what you're talking about,â he says quietly as he gathers those strong arms around himself and crosses them like a shield.
Part of your mind is screaming at you to just drop it. Youâve entered new territory. You've never made him defensive like this before, and you don't know how he'll react. But based on all of your previous interactions with him, you know it won't be pleasant. Which is an understatement. The stubborn part of you, however, hopes that this means you're actually making progress. And if youâve come this farâŠ
âIs that why you won't even try to leave this shit hole again?â You press. âIs that why you're trading one prison for another?â
âThat has nothing to do with this,â he says as he narrows his eyes at you, and you're almost disappointed to hear some of his anger returning.
âYeah right,â you scoff.
âListen, neither of us is in any condition to evade the searches. All weâre going to accomplish is getting caught.â It sounds almost reasonable, but you know better. You know it for what it really is: a deflection. You did hit a nerve.
âThat's only going to get worse,â you argue back. âThe lack of food is going to weaken us further, assuming we don't freeze to death first.â
âAnd it will still be easier if we're not being hunted. We have to be patient,â he says as his frown deepens, frustration beginning to take root once again. âLet them think weâre dead or gone.â
âAnd how long will that take? Days? Weeks?â
âA hell of a lot longer than three days!â
âFine. Then we should at least go out and do some scouting so we have an idea of which way to go when the time comes,â you offer instead. âWe might even find supplies.â
âIt's too risky,â he says dismissively as he waves you off. You bristle against the gesture. âWeâre safe here. The cave entrance is hard to find, but if we go in and out too often, weâll draw attention to ourselves.â
âThere's always going to be risk, Kino, whether we leave tonight or a week from now. If we wait, it could be too late,â you point out. âFor all we know, the Empire is sending a blockade to keep us all trapped here! Then what?â
âThey aren't going to send a blockade for a prison break,â he scoffs.
âAnd how can you possibly know that?â
âHow can you?â
âWhy is it so hard for you to trust me?â You hate the hint of misery that seeps into your voice and betrays how much that idea pains you.
âWhy should I? If I recall correctly, your judgment has nearly gotten you killed once already,â he says in a mocking tone.
You glare at him. âMy judgment saved both our lives.â
He glares right back. âI'm starting to think that was sheer dumb luck.â
Oh, how fucking dare he. After everything you went throughâ
âI didn't realize you were such a coward,â you say coldly, desperate to hurt him as much as he's hurt you.
The tendons in his neck go taut with rage. âFuck you,â he spits, but he no more than gets the words out when he's racked with a violent coughing fit. The force of it makes him double over onto the cave floor, and his body heaves with each one.
You wince at the sight, feeling ashamed of your comment now. You didn't want this.
The coughing spells are a parting gift from Narkina 5âthe water still won't let him go. He's had a few of them since you got him to shore and forced the ocean from his lungs, and each one sounds a little bit worse than the one before. You're no healer, but that's obviously not a good sign. He needs medicine. You also haven't broached the subject with him because you know it will just start a fight.
As if everything you say doesn't start a fight.
You lean back to wait it out, letting your head thunk tiredly against the cave wall. There's nothing you can do to help him and trying will only make it worseâyou learned that the hard way. Plus, it doesn't seem fair to argue with him while he's like this, even if you're only doing it to get through to him for his own good, the stubborn jerk.
It takes several minutes before he finally stops coughing long enough to get his breathing under control. Then he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, rights himself with as much dignity as he can muster, and gives you a cold, hard stare. âGo, then, if you're in such a hurry to end up back in a cell,â he grits out, his voice a strained, wet gravel.
âFine,â you huff, pushing yourself to your feet. âStay here and waste away if you want. See if I care. I can find a way off this slag heap by myself.â
You almost make it past the mouth of the cave.
The moment your foot touches the rain slicked rock, the combination of fatigue and an unsteady gait causes you to slip. You hit the ground with a grunt, landing hard on your hip. Sharp, hot pain shoots through the joint, curling up your spine and down your leg. The shock of it takes your breath away, and your eyes sting with fresh tears.
Oh, brilliant, you think caustically. Of all the times to fall on your ass.
Behind you, Kino swears. A second later, you hear the slap of his bare feet on rock as he stomps towards you.
âBroken?â He doesn't quite snap the question at you, but it's a near thing.
âNo,â you choke out.
âYou have a fucking death wish,â he growls before he hauls you to a sitting position.
Despite the pain, that statement makes you laugh, though it's a bitter, near hysterical sound. You tilt your head back to grin up at him. âGuess we make quite the pair, huh?â
He doesn't respond.
He just shoves his hands under your armpits in an attempt to get a grip on you with those thick fingers. Then your laughter quickly dissolves into a wounded hiss as he drags you back into the cave with no care for your new injury. You're not sure why you suddenly expected him to start coddling you. He never did before.
He dumps you back into the spot youâve been occupying, glad to be rid of you, and you catch yourself with your hands before you land in a heap.
âAsshole,â you mutter under your breath.
After that, neither of you speaks for a while, content to sit and lick your wounds in what passes for peace now. Eventually, the pain in your hip lessens to a dull throb and the fire is reduced to embers, the long hours sucking the heat out of both.
Outside, the sky has gotten a bit lighter, but is still that dreary mask of grey that makes time feel nebulous. Unknowable. The rain, at least, had turned into a mist about an hour ago. Without the sound of the drops echoing throughout the cave, the silence is unforgiving. Every shuffle along the rock, every sniffle or sigh, every brush of clothes is harsh between you.
âWhy are you so mad at me?â You finally ask, desperate for any noise that isn't him heavily exhaling a whistle through his nose.
âI already told you,â he replies, emotionless.
âIâm not talking about that,â you sigh. âYou hated me the moment I stepped onto the floor.â
In the low light, there's a brief look of shock on his profile before his scowl returns in full force. âI didn't hate you.â
âYes you did. You could barely look at me. And you yelled at me all the time.â He opens his mouth to protest, but you continue on so he can't interrupt you. âLook, I understand, in a way. I was slower than nearly all of the men, and you were pissed about being stuck with me. But it's not like I did it on purpose.â
âIt wasn't that.â There's a renewed touch of exasperation in his voice. You're intimately familiar with that tone. Youâve heard the way he normally sounds when speaking to other peopleâgot to see what it was like without ever experiencing it yourselfâbut youâve never spoken to him without receiving either his impatience or his distaste. You prepare yourself for another fight.
âThen why? Because I was a distraction?â Your bitterness bleeds from you, an anguish built from months of labor and fear. And loneliness, you think. Because, even though youâd been constantly surrounded by people, youâd never felt so completely and utterly alone.
âIt's nothing.â He rolls onto his side to face the cave wall, intent on ignoring you.
âIt clearly wasn't nothing,â you respond dryly.
âJust drop it,â he says over his shoulder.
âNo.â You cross your arms. You're done listening to him just because he tells you to. You don't have to now. You're not in there anymore. âAfter everything, I think I deserve to know what I did to have you treat me that way.â
âAnd I don't want to fucking talk about it,â he growls.
âWell, too damn bad! Because there's nothing else to talk about, and I want to know why you hated me when all I wanted wasââ You cut yourself off with a hitched breath before you accidentally finish that sentence.
Fighting is one thing. That's easy. Safe. But this is something big and messy that you're still trying to come to terms with, made all the more complicated by your current situation, which was already plenty complicated before. This will only make things worse. You know it will. And despite all the hurtful things youâve said to each other, you wouldn't be able to stomach his rejection. His pity. His disgustâcouldnât handle being forced to endure it while stuck in this damned cave and made to wallow in the forced intimacy of the space that's anything but. No, this is the one truth you could never take back.
To your embarrassment, your voice is rough and raw with emotion when you speak again. âWhen all I wanted was to be treated like a person.â
âIf that's what you wanted, you were in the wrong place,â he says coldly to the cave wall. âNow shut up and let me sleep.â
âNo!â You shout. You no longer care if youâre being petulant because you are angry about it. Youâve been holding onto the feeling for months, but you're tired now. You don't want to carry it around anymore. âI won't let you bully me into silence. I want the truth.â
âKeep your voice down!â He hisses as he flings himself upright to glare at you. Every bit of him is rigid with tension. Dangerous. At least he's looking at you again.
âThen answer me!â You stubbornly glare back at him. âYou owe me that much.â
âFine! I was afraid, alright?â He finally snarls, reminding you of a cornered animal, spitting as it lashes out. âIs that what you want to hear? That you were right? That I'm a coward?â
âWhat?â All of your anger leaves you in a sudden rush. The hiding, the running, the waterâthat fear you can understand. But this? You stare at him in genuine confusion. âWhy?â
âBecause I was scared shitless about what could happen to you! That place was cruel to the men it was designed for. Whatever it had in store for you was going to be much worse. I thoughtâŠâ He runs a hand down his face and over the scruff of his beard, now grown out beyond a neat trim. The action wipes his own anger away, and underneath it is something human: exhaustion and vulnerability. âI thought, if I kept you at a distance, it would hurt less when it finally broke you, but you made it so damn hard.â
âOh,â you breathe out in shock, as though youâve just had the wind knocked out of you. You have, in a way, because, gods, what can you possibly say to that? It's the last thing you were expectingârealistically, you thought he was worried your lack of strength or speed would get someone else killed. This, howeverâŠyou couldn't have even imagined this. The implication of it⊠âKinoââ
âDon't. Okay?â He cuts you off. And then he turns away to shut you out as well. âJustâŠfucking don't.â
So instead you sit there in the uneasy quiet of the cave, feeling adrift. Helpless. Like you're right back in the middle of the ocean, at the mercy of the waves, with nothing to hold onto to keep from sinking; thereâs only water in your fumbling grasp. At least then you'd known which way you were supposed to go, it was the getting there that was the problem. Now you don't even have that. You wonder if youâd have the energy to even try if you did.
A part of you wants nothing more than to reexamine every interaction, every look, and every word heâs ever spoken to you and see what you might uncover that you'd missed, but you can't do that with him right there. His presence just muddles everything up until you can't help but mix reality and memory, past and present, assumption and realization. You're nearly dizzy with it.
Plus, knowing that things weren't so black and white between you doesn't change what happened or how you feel. Youâve been hurting and angry for a whileâespecially at him, and most of which he still deserves for how he treated you. That something more existed lessens the intensity of those feelings, but it doesn't erase them completely. Not yet. Reconciling what you know and what you thought you knew will only come with time.
To the rest of you, however, that reconciliation doesn't seem as important as your fear at almost losing him or the realization that there is something more than just hatred on his end. Even if that thing is nothing more than kindness and compassion, it's something. And you could have died not knowing that. Or worse, you could have lived without knowing instead.
Gods, complicated is an understatement. If only you could have wanted something easy for once. You wonder if he thought the same thing as he watched you from across the work floor. And it feels odd to think that maybe it's not such an unrealistic hope anymore.
âIâm sorry,â you whisper, breaking the silence between you at last.
He laughs, and it manages to sound condescending. The familiarity of it is grounding. âWhat do you have to be sorry about?â
âI guessâŠâ What are you apologizing for? For misunderstanding him? For making his life harder, even if it wasn't your fault? For not agreeing with him? For being unable to shoulder his anger? For continuing to push and push and push. Maybe all of it, you realize. For your part in the making of this. âI guess for saving you when you didn't want me to,â you answer with a shrug instead.
At first, you think he isn't going to respond to that, and you can no longer find it in yourself to blame him. But then, with a voice thatâs softer than youâve ever heard from himâwerenât even sure he was capable of itâhe says, âIt's not that I didn't want to be saved.â
âThen why? Help me to understand, Kino,â you plead, praying that he won't clam up or lash out again. Not when you've come so far. âPlease.â
He gives you a heavy, resigned look before settling his attention on the cave entrance where his gaze becomes unseeing. Though there are only a few feet between you, he suddenly seems miles away.
âWhen we were planning all of this, I knew what was waiting for us on the outside. I mean, they built the fucking thing in the middle of an ocean and I can't swim. How ironic is that? All that work, and I was gonna make it to the door just to drown.â Then, quietly, âI never gave a thought to what I would do if I didn't. Now I've got no clue what comes next.â
âNeither do I,â you say in disbelief.
He lets out a dark laugh. âSure don't act like it,â he mutters.
âIâm just better at hiding it.â You give him a small smile that he cannot see.
âMaybe I should be, too,â he muses to himself. âItâd be a hell of a lot better than feeling so lost.â
âHiding it doesn't make that go away,â you say sadly. You know that all too well.
His only reply is a non-committal hum, and it suddenly occurs to you that he has no clue what you actually went through. How could he? He lept into the water and woke up on shore with nothing but darkness in between. All he knows is that you saved him. Without the rest, he thinks he's struggling alone.
âI almost gave up, you know,â you admit quietly.
That gets his attention again. He turns to look at you, and his eyes are wide with fear and concern. âWhat?â He gasps.
âI could barely see the shore when the adrenaline wore off. When faced with that distance, all that water, and no strength left?â You shrug in an attempt to seem unbothered, even as the memory fills you with dread. âFor one horrible moment, I suppose drowning just seemed easier.â Like going to sleep, you don't say. âBut I couldn't. I looked at you, and I couldn't. Not without trying first. And before you say anything, leaving you behind was never an option. Not for me. If this place was going to win, it was going to have to take us both.â
âI never wanted that,â he says helplessly. âWhen I came to and saw you laying there, I thought you were dead.â His voice breaks and he takes in a deep, shaky breath, but it does little to steady him. âI knew then what you did for me, and I thought it killed you. That after everything, it was me. I broke you, and it wasn't worth it. Not me.â
âYou didn't,â you insist, desperate to make him listen. You recognize that despair because it's the same one that haunts your dreams and doesn't let go when you're awake. It's the same fear that grips your chest in icy fingers whenever you catch his sleeping face or you're forced to sit by and listen to him coughâthe water still won't let him go. You understand now that he needs the reassurance that it's over just as much as you do. So you push yourself to your knees and dare to move closer, despite the protest of your aching body. âIâm right here. See? I was just tired afterwards, that's all. Just tired. Iâm right here.â
Without warning, he reaches for you, and, even though he's never harmed you, you flinch thinking maybe youâve finally pushed him too far. Only, he grabs the front of your uniform and pulls you to him, just as unkindly as he dragged you across the cave. And then you think he's going to scream again, but when he opens his mouth, he leans in and crushes your lips together instead.
You freeze against him.
Because Kino Loy is kissing you, and that can't be right. He hates you. His mouth can only scowl and scream and cough andâthereâs a little grunt from the back of his throat as he adjusts the angle of your lips, and, oh, this is real. Without another thought, you're kissing him back.
At first, there's only tentative reliefâat the reassurance, the sensation, at finally getting something you wantâbut heat starts to build in the breath-humid space between your bodies the longer you kiss and kiss. Something born of more than lust or desire. And though they flicker in your belly as well, it's a bone deep desperation to feel alive that drives you forward and aches to be quelled.
When you break apart to catch your breath, he rests his forehead against yours. Close enough for your noses to brush together and to feel each hard exhaleâthat blessed, life sustaining airâacross your skin.
âIâm sorry,â he says with a sob. His voice is low and thick with grief against your mouth. The sound and shape of it is so different from his angerâin the low light, only a ghost of that harshness is left, clinging to the shadowy lines of his face. You don't have to ask what he's apologizing for.
âShow me,â you whisper back. You let your lips brush over his again in invitation. He responds by delving into the wet heat of your mouth and wrapping you in his arms with a moan.
So you give yourself over to the exploration of his tongue against yours and his large, callus roughened hands as they engulf the sides of your face, caught in the whirlwind of him. It leaves you breathless faster than you like, and when you break for air again, you don't want to give him a moment to change his mind or to pull away completely. So your mouth wanders to his cheeks, the scruff on his jaw, his Adam's apple, the hollow of his throat above the collar of his uniformâseeking out every bit of him that you can reach as he pants and swallows beneath your lips.
He smells like sweat and smoke and saltwater, and his skin is sharp and briny on your tongue as you lap at a spot on his neck. He tastes like drowning, and for a moment you're lost in the memory of him in the water, his weight pulling you beneath the waves. His lifeless face staring up at you from the shore. But then he sucks in a sharp breath, jolting you back to the present, and his lips are on yours again. Warm. Alive. Not the cold flesh you forced air through. Not the same shared breath.
âWanna see you,â you gasp into his mouth as you lift at the hem of his shirt.
Without a word, he moves to obey.
You both peel away your filthy uniforms with trembling hands, revealing bodies that are just as dirty and unwashed to the chilled air, but beneath all of that is color. His flush of arousal. Bruises that are starting to fade, a gruesome rainbow of healing. The shadows playing in the shifting of muscle as he reaches for you to pull you back into the warmth of his arms. Alive.
He's the first soft thing youâve touched after days of nothing but rock. And before that, months of only tools and labor and struggle. You bask in the sensation: The greying hair on his chest, the roundness of his belly and hips, salt dried skin, his palm on your cheek. The other on your thigh. Heâs softer than you remember from when you were hauling him through the wavesâ
You wrap your hand around his cock, and his heartbeat throbs in your fist. Alive.
He lets out a groan when you stroke him, something deep and guttural that rumbles through the cave like thunder. The sound sends blood and heat rushing to your core, where it pools between your thighs and leaves you aching and empty. You tease the silken foreskin over his length and work your thumb along the underside of the swollen head just to hear more of it.
With a growl, he falls upon you, pulling you in for a bruising kiss, all teeth and tongues and hunger. His hand cups the swell of your breast while his thumb circles your nipple. You cry out and arch into the roughness of his hand. Then you're both eagerly groping and learning all the ways you can draw more noises from each other until you're left squirming against the insistent throbbing between your legs.
âI want you inside of me,â you murmur into his mouth.
He clenches his eyes shut as his breath hitches, and you're thrilled you can get that reaction out of him. But then he opens his eyes again and, in a shaky voice, asks, âYou're sure?â
âYes!â You growl, impatient. âFuck me, Kino.â
He lets out a groan. âIf you keep that up, Iâm not gonna last very long.â
âDon't care as long as your cock is inside me first.â
âFuck!â He hisses. His hips involuntarily jerk forward at the thought, and said cock grinds into the bend of your groin. âThen I'll give you what you want.â
After that reaction, you think he's going to throw you down and do just that. Instead, his touch gentles, his palm cradling the base of your skull as he lays you out along the rock. The movement doesn't make you feel delicate or like something that's injured and cowering in a cave, but rather like something to be revered.
This is his apology.
A caress along your inner knee has your legs falling open, leaving you exposed before him. Before you can be self-conscious about it, he gives your arousal a heated look that drives the thought from your mind. Then he traces a fingertip up the tender skin of your thigh, and fire licks from your thigh to your belly.
For a moment, you wonder what it would be like to have this on the other side of the galaxy. Not in a cave, but in a bed, warm and clean with a full stomach. Maybe it would be sweet like this between you the whole time rather than something that's taking an effort just to maintain. Because you know this is only a momentâa reprieve. It can't last, not when that cold desperation and panic are rebuilding within your gut.
It's a lovely thought. But by the time he kneels between your thighs, you need again. You pull him down and he goes willingly, falling to brace his hands on the stony ground on either side of your shoulders. Then you hold your breath as he closes the distance, slowly, until the length of his cock is resting and throbbing, flush against your sex.
Your hips grind up against him, trapping him between your heat and his belly so that when he thrusts back, seeking more, he drags himself along your wet folds; the sensitive head of his cock rubs against your clit. Both of you moan, wounded and strangled sounds. So he does it again. And again. Over and over until you're both gasping and shuddering at the slick friction.
All the while he stares down at you, studying you. Taking in the way your face contorts and breaks with pleasure. His eyes are sea blue, you realizeâthe water, greedyâso wild and deep and pulling you in. It sets your pulse racing and makes your palms sweat against his shoulders. You turn away from the intensity in that gaze.
âNo.â To your surprise, he takes your chin between his finger and thumb, not gentle but steady, and he forces you to look anyway. To face him. âLet me see you.â
He holds you there with the weight of his body as he shifts to nudge at your opening. It's so close to what you need. Your legs wrap around his waist in silent encouragement. Then, once he's lined up, he sinks forward with a groan and stretches you open on his cock until you're aching and full.
His mouth goes slack. Those eyes become heavy and lidded. Not closedâalive. Which makes all the difference to your wounded mind. So you drink in the sight of him like this, buried in the tight embrace of your cunt. A ruinous look.
You're drowning again.
It scares you, just how much you want to give yourself over and let go. How easy it would be to become lost. To believe that this is something more than desperation. But then his eyes refocus and whatever tenderness had gripped him is absent from that gaze. In its place is hunger. Need. Urgency.
âGods, you're so tight,â he grinds out from behind clenched teeth as he gives a shallow thrust into you. The sound goes straight to your core, soaking him further. âFeels so good.â
Then he finallyâfinallyâfucks you. Hard and fast.
The ground is cold and unrelenting beneath your spine where you're folded and crushed against it. Above you, he's blanketing you in heat and the delicious slide of flesh along your nerves. A lovely contrast already, but then his hand finds your hip, his fingers digging into your fresh bruise, and you gasp from the painâit hurts, but if it hurts that means you're alive. He doesn't stop at the sound. Instead, there's understanding in those eyes as he pulls you in to meet each plunge of his cock, and, oh, that's even better.
You spare a thought for his knees right before he shifts. Then he's dragging against that spot inside of you, and your mind goes blissfully empty with pleasure. Your head falls back, weightless with it. At that opening, he buries his face in your neck, muffling every grunt into your skin. He presses the vibrations of them into your flesh and bones alongside his exhales, the scrape of his beard, the unconscious skim and purse of his lips. You shiver.
You won't come from this alone, but you don't care. This is enough. You just need to feel somethingâneed the proof that he's alive. That you're alive. That this IS real and not some drawn out hallucination your dying brain came up with between the span of one heartbeat and your last.
But it has to be real. Even in your darkest moments, alone in your cell, you never allowed yourself to want thisâthe thing you could not have. The galaxy had been cruel enough on its own without any assistance from you. So there were no images or dreams in your mind to conjure this from. Which means these messy kisses, the wet noise of your joining, your sweat slicked skin, his hair, salt-stiffened and curled between your fingers, must be real. It also means every moment of this is new and unburdened by expectation or comparison.
It's everything else that haunts you.
All too soon, and just as promised, his body grows tense, and he starts to tremble above you. Between your exhaustion and his unrelenting pace, this was never intended to last. And he's so close, but when he meets your eyes, you see hesitation. Uncertainty. When he moves to pull away, you realize he means to finish by stroking and spilling himself across your belly instead. But that isn't what you need.
âNo! Donât,â you beg. Your legs tighten around his waist, and you grasp at his neck and shoulders, unwilling to let him go with a strength that surprises you both. Then you roll your hips and grind yourself onto his cock, dragging a hiss out of him. âI want to feel you.â
He groans as he yields to your plea, too near that edge to argue, so he falls right back into a punishing rhythm. Yet underneath the hunger and determination, there's anguish now, too. As if by doing this, he remains afraid he'll break you somehow. Still, he clings to your hips as every thrust turns short and sharp with purpose until, at last, he buries himself fully and chases that relief in the depths of your cunt.
When he comes, the only sound he makes is a harsh sob. And then his cock is pulsing inside of you, filling you with warmth. Life.
Alive. Alive. Alive.
He collapses heavily at your side with a few wet coughs, spent and too exhausted to hold himself up any longer. You lay there for a moment, listening to his ragged breathing, unsure of what comes next. You're afraid heâll push you away once his mind clears. That heâll go back to hating you from across the cave, now muggy with the scent of sex, as his come leaks down your thighs.
He doesn't.
Instead, he holds his arms open in silent invitation and you realize he's offering you a choice: move forward with or without him. And this time, you know he accepts that it's your decision to make. But youâve already made this choice once, when you watched him slip beneath the waves. When you dove for him in the water, hauled him back out of it, and then forced it from his lungs. It was just as easy to make then. Maybe now heâll understand what it means.
You go to him and curl against him in acceptance. He kisses the fragile skin of your temple, and then he helps you get settled by tucking your head under his chin and rubbing warmth in a soothing pattern along your stone chilled back. Your hand finds his waist. His leg entangles with yours. Back and forth until there's nothing but drying sweat between you, as if you have always fit together in this way.
You want to savor this. More than that, you want to have this if you can. If heâll let you. If he doesn't go back to holding you at a distance out of habit and self-preservation in a day or so, always waiting for the worst to happen and scared of the hurt that might follow. As if anything could be worse than losing him now. Then he really would be the thing that broke you. A self fulfilling prophecy. You almost want to laugh at the irony.
All at once, the silence feels heavier than you can bear.
âNever again tell me you aren't worth it,â you whisper fiercely to the cave. âYou are to me.â
He doesn't respond, but the hand splayed over your ribs twitches before clutching you tighter.
âWeâll try in the morning,â he says quietly instead. Under your ear, the compromise rumbles loudly throughout his chest. Beneath that, his steady heartbeat.
His statement doesn't fill you with anything as naive as hope. The Empire is still looking for you, and they aren't ever going to stop now. Youâve only traded imprisonment for the illusion of freedom. The thought claws at you, threatens to pull you under. But there's an arm around your shoulders that squeezes as it holds you close, and you remember that you can't let go. You can't lose him. You won't. You have to keep moving.
âIn the morning,â you agree.
"Hey,â he said, half-asleep, âwhat were you before me?â âI think I was drowning.â A pause. âAnd what are you now?â he whispered, sinking. I thought for a second. âWater."
- Ocean Vuong, On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous
A/N: The song for this fic is Ocean Eyes by Billie Eilish btw.
#guys you musttt read this#kino loy x reader#kino loy x f!reader#kino loy smut#andor fanfiction#andy serkis#tara đŠ#fics
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#okay i know in my heart of hearts that this literally means absolutely nothing#and i will get over it immediately after writing this#but can the mclenn0n people in the notes of the mclenn0n vs. br0cedes poll just make sure they're accurate in their claims#this isn't me being like why is mclenn0n winning because i FULLY understanding why they're winning#but i'm seeing things like#come back to me when they shared the same dream#(that is literally a fundamental component of the br0cedes lore)#come back to me when they shared the same dream while sleeping in the same bed#(tbh they probably did)#does br0cedes have a wikipedia page about their rivalry? i don't think so!#(except they do have a wikipedia page. they literally do.)#if you're trying to convey the intensity of the mclenn0n lore by questioning the br0cedes lore#you should probably know the br0cedes lore before you do that!#anyway just had to get that off my chest#i wrote all this and now i'm like who gives a fuck honestly lmao#also sorry for the fuckass l33t speak i did not want anyone in the mclenn0n tag to stumble upon this
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thinking about the parallels between tapenessa and beckory
#it could kill me fr#like. glitchtrap victims who had someone in their life taken away from them#what if vanessa had liked tape girl since middle school and they agaisnt all odds worked at the same place as adults#and vanessa thought wow maybe we're meant to be and then tape girl dies from glitchtrap.#and then vanessa gets taken over next.#like what if tony didnt die and when he came back and reunited with gregory vanessa watched them from the sidelines#thinking about how her middle school crush got taken away from her when she thought her dreams could come true#and she watches how history was almost repeated with gregory and tony but againdt all odds AGAIN. theyre alive and meet again#and if tony did die it would just be a tragedy that greg and vanessa can share#pandas.txt#thoughts#beckory#vanessa#gregory#3 star fam#tony
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guys i had a dream last night that jere posted a thirst trap of him wearing like this asymetrical sparkly green bodysuit thing
#you can imagine my disappointment when i woke up#kÀÀrijÀ#jere pöyhönen#feel the need to share this info with you#this site has poisoned my mind the image keeps coming back to me throughout the day#i have to see if i can find a picture that looks the same#i didnt know it was him at first in the dream he camera just panned up and there was his face looking over his shoulder just smouldering
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Spent way too much time on the stupid cringe travel montage sequence I did for my Let's Roleplay Enderal series. đ Embarrassing. It was intended to be something way simpler starting out, but then turned into a full montage with actual scenes animated and shit and just got out of hand.
And yet I wanna do more... for the other companions...
Prayer circle for me. I'm going back to sleep and cry.
Part 6 just overall feels like one big cringy shitpost and I'm sorry Enderal fandom - to all 5 of you.
#enderal#enderal forgotten stories#vynblr#let's roleplay enderal: forgotten stories#jade the prophetess#jespar dal'varek#so happy i can finally share this but also cringe đ#i just love jade and jespar's friendship so much okay#they make me wanna cry#never quite sure if i entirely ship them or not since jade romances calia#but if i could have an ot3 that'd be my dream team#at the same time i love how they can just be bros#still losing my shit at the comedic timing of their interactions in part 6 though#like how it looks like jespar is trying to hold jade back as she's throwing the 'arrow in the knee' guy off a cliff#or how he says 'still alive?' when coming out of the abandoned cabin after screaming over giant spiders glitching out#the constant bumping into her#the tavern cat vibing in the background#getting exasperated by her chasing after random wildlife#she officially calls him 'snowberry' and 'my lord' now đ#that's just canon i'm sorry#i don't make the rules#gonna need to see if she comes up with nicknames for other npcs now and i hope she does
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not having any friends is truly heartbreaking
#i have no one to confide in or just simply hang out with#there's this concert i really wanted to attend but i have no one to go with and tickets are already sold out anyways#but the point is not having friends stops me from having fun experiences#sure you could argue that i could have fun experiences by myself but it's still not the same if you can't share it with someone#i went on a solo trip this summer and while it was liberating & enjoyable it was also incredibly lonely#i also went to a festival by myself & unfortunately it was horrible bc i got nauseous & it was scary being all alone#thankfully i got back to my hotel safely in the middle of the night but i definitely would've felt better & safer if i wasn't alone#i feel like i'm missing out on a lot of things bc i don't have friends & it's just so alienating bc i think smth is fundamentally wrong..#.. with me bc i don't have a single genuine friend while others have whole friend groups#this also makes me miss my ex best friend even more & i'm contemplating reaching out to her again...#i feel like a beaten dog that always comes back around no matter how badly i was treated bc i just want some love đ đ#like i was the one who ended things with my ex best friend bc i was tired of being treated like a doormat & constantly having my..#.. boundaries disrespected but now i'd rather have that back then have no friends at all which is awful i know đ#my ex best friend also isn't a bad person but she hurt me a lot & at the end when things got really bad i think we were both not good for..#each other.. but now i'm reminiscing about all the wonderful things we experienced together & i miss it so much :(#we had so many things in common we went to so many concerts together & had so much fun & now i'm all by myself all the time đ#the thing is also she was always a social butterfly & has many friends so i doubt she even misses me#i still didn't delete her from my contacts & i recently saw she finally fulfilled her dream of going to america#i feel like she is living her best life & i'm just here being miserable & lonely nothing has really improved for me#i wouldn't even be surprised if she's going to that concert i wanted to attend bc it's one of her favorite artists as well#i just feel so unlovable and alone in this world... i wish i could restart my whole life or disappear altogether tbh#sorry for the negativity if anyone reads this i'm just really upset..#i should stop making myself even more depressed i'm supposed to be studying anyways..#and tonight i'm attending our company's christmas party i hope i'll at least have a little fun there..#âïž
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taehyung out here tempting me to write for BTS for the first time since 2019
#the second picture is giving me such Alice in Wonderland vibes too#i've fallen out of touch with their music since their BE album was released#and haven't checked out any of their solo albums so far#but damn#this photoshoot alone makes me wanna check out Tae's album#like what kind of sounds is he gonna be putting out to match this aesthetic#ughhhhhh BTS cannot drag me back in#not right when Jin is about to start his military service#i do wanna hold off until they've all had their breaks and exploded their careers on their own and are ready to come back together#cause idk about y'all but like a huge chunk of what drew me to idol groups was.... the group dynamics???#like a bunch of boys coming together to make music and share in briging their artistic dreams to life is so beautiful to me#and when they start branching off into solo work.... it just doesn't hit the same anymore#like don't get me wrong i'm happy when members can shine on their own and build a solo career cause that's usually the dream from the start#but it's just not my vibe#BTS built a beautifully intricate story about friends parting ways and reconnecting years later in their MBMIL storyline#and i so hope we get to see that play out for them in real life as well
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i love having the weirdest dreams napping on the couch
#not really but#my first dream i started to lucid dream while we were walking through a parking lot#i started to fly and the dream was glitching as i realized i was dreaming and it kind of freaked me out so i just forced myself to wake up#but then the second dream was also weird#my parents and i were driving through the old rich side of town at night and we pulled into the parking lot of this bed and breakfast place#and we got out and it seemed normal albeit dark to me but my mom seemed scared and kept telling my dad she heard someone laughing#we got up to our room and my dad went to go do something so it was just me and my mom#we were also rooming with this guy for some reason but he was nice#i was just sitting on a chair and the guy was walking to the door when suddenly the door opened and he was like whoâs there#and the person at the door was silent for a bit before closing it really quickly and saying sorry#the guy was like uhh đ€·ââïž idk what just happened my#and my mom was like go shut the door but when i went to shut it it had all of these contraptions and mechanisms#it was strange and then my dad was like let me back in and so i did and he talked to my mom for a bit about the strange things going on#he said the old owner liked to collect antiques and stuff and he thinks the place is haunted#my mom was like well i told you that i heard laughing in the parking lot#then guy that we were sharing the room with comes out of his room with bandages all over his face and iâm like what#my mom says something to him and then another guy (the same guy from before) comes out looking just like him just without bandages#and my mom is like i can help and i was like what#the guy takes off his bandages and heâs like itâs my teeth#but also side note i was weirdly struck by how handsome he was for an older man#but then my dream decided to focus on my mom like twisting and fixing his teeth into the right place#weirdly enough i wasnât freaked out by it but it was just interesting#anyway thatâs my dream i need to stop napping on that couch#dianna.moon
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Scrolled to 2020 to try and update the file for Theo's birthday pic (HBD to him đ) and that really was such a wonderful period for me in terms of drawing đ„Č
#just wanted to update my signature but mobile app and browser don't work đ« đ« đ« #le whiny text post#also the few asks I got back then were just stellar đ„Č#it sucks that I don't feel the same joy and contentment when I draw anymore#idl PSA if anyone reads this far down my tags: never tell anyone they should draw: (1) just for fun. (2) for the success in their heart#(3) assume that they do not actually draw for themselves and proceed to tell them to not draw what fandoms want despite. like look at their#fucking body of work before you say something that presumptive and dismissive đ#(4) don't assume they are just* clout chasing. I lost my job in the middle of COVID and still had a whole year's worth of tuition to pay#in the middle of lockdown. so no money for anything including necessities. foolishly thought I might be good enough for comms#very very VERY foolishly put out a rhetorical Q on how to build a following. again my bad for assuming I'm good enough#and then was told indirectly that 'people conflate numbers with worth' and like yeah ok#but also I lost my job Jan đ« #sometimes hyper positive 'encouragement' comes off so dismissive#and now (3 years later) I still can't even say what I draw is 'art.' I feel ashamed of sharing anything. I think everyone hates everything#draw (tho that is kind of a true fact with the gnshn fandom if we're talking art styles). I can't even call myself an 'aspiring artist'#I feel guilt and shame for wanting to have ever been one despite wanting to be one since I was a child and wanting to like open comms or#design prints and stickers and shit.#what they thought was 'encouraging' comes off dismissive. like getting scolded by your betters that you shouldn't aspire to have and do#the things that they have and do. and girl when I tell you it took a lifetime to get some of them to even acknowledge me đ« #like hoping they thought of me as a peer but it sounds like I'm beneath them#and they are bigger fandom artists. all of them had either comms or something open and literally that's all I ever wanted. the other stuff#is clearly beyond me but idk. just sucks to hear bigger artists tell you to just be content to be the little nothing that you are and to no#aspire to achieve the things you want.#and I shouldn't let it get to but 3 years later and we have given up.#even lowering goals to just such small things and those can't even be achieved đ#anyways HBD Theo. You gave up on the dream of being an artist. Me too đ€đđ
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