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iniquitousyearning · 1 year ago

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Theodore Nott. | be my first.

PAIRING: Theodore Nott x Reader

PROMPT: “PLEASE please do a Theodore nott x fem!reader virgin!!”

WORD COUNT: 5.5k.

TAGS: 18+, Mentions of Slight Violence, Depictions of Blood, SMUT, Fingering, Bestfriends to Lovers Trope (my personal fav), Virgin!Reader, Loss of Virginity, Slow Sex, Soft!Theo, Multiple Orgasm, Dirty Talk.

"I don't know, Pans, wouldn't that be weird?"

Pansy's laughter echoed in a melodious giggle, the rhythm of her steps creating a soft shuffle across the expanse of your shared dorm. With effortless grace, she descended onto your bed, settling in with a languid poise. Laying on her side, her head found a comfortable perch on her bent arm.

"Why would it be weird?" Her grin, radiant and infectious, painted a mischievous allure across her features. "He's your lifelong best friend. I'm pretty sure he's in love with you-"

"Absolutely not," you interjected, employing a dramatic flourish with your hands for emphasis. "He is not."

Pansy cast a sidelong glance your way. "He so is."

"He's not!" Your grin persisted as you fired back, "if he was, he wouldn't be regaling me with tales of the girls he's shagging every bloody weekend."

Pansy, after a moment of silent contemplation, arched an eyebrow. "Perhaps he's just doing that to make you jealous. Ever think of that?"

You released a sigh, your body surrendering to the bed's embrace as you slumped backwards. The gentle thud of your head meeting the pillows echoed the weight of your contemplations, and memories from the past few weeks intruded your mind--acknowledging the nuanced shifts in Theodore's behaviour, particularly since that one unforgettable common room party.

As the realization took root, you abruptly sat up, the intensity of the revelation reflected in your eyes as they locked onto Pansy's gaze. "Pans...he's been acting distinctly different lately."

Pansy blinked, a glint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "You're just noticing?"

"No, I mean," your thoughts scattered like confetti, your heart pulsating with the weight of the revelation. You realized you hadn't told her. "Ever since that party, the one last Friday in the common room...where we, um...we kissed."

Pansy's eyes widened in sheer disbelief, her jaw dropping in a dramatic display of shock. With a swift, purposeful motion, she sat up, aligning her gaze with yours, the unfiltered surprise etched vividly across her face.

"What the hell!" Her exclamation rang with feigned outrage. "I can't believe you didn't tell me!"

Your expression contorted into a frown as you extended a gentle hand, resting it on Pansy's shoulder. "I'm sorry...we both agreed it was a stupid mistake, and we promised not to tell anyone. We knew you guys would relentlessly hound us about it...I just...I just couldn't risk it..."

Pansy took a measured moment to process your words, her eyes narrowing slightly. She ran a hand through her raven-black hair, the gears turning behind her eyes, thoughts churning with an amused yet contemplative air as she processed your confession.

With an entertained huff, she locked eyes with you. "I can't believe that little weasel kept his mouth shut for all that time. Guess he really can keep a secret."

An assertive snort escaped you, relief from her reaction igniting your features. "Probably just doesn't want me to hate him, considering we're bound to cross paths at every family gathering. Our families are so tightly knit..."

Pansy reclined with a subtle smirk gracing her lips, mischief dancing in her dark eyes. Her fingers traced an intricate, invisible pattern on your emerald green bedspread, their movements betraying a simmering excitement.

Meeting your gaze with unwavering confidence, she responded, "yet another advantage for you, and another compelling reason to go for it."

You shifted, your posture a nuanced blend of contemplation and uncertainty. Your fingers delicately toyed with the hem of your shirt, a nervous energy manifesting in the subtle dance of fabric against your skin.

In the pregnant pause that followed, you countered, "I just...I just can't envision a scenario where asking my best friend to take my virginity works out in my favour."

"I can't see a world where it doesn't," Pansy replied with a softness that hinted at the weight of her conviction. Sitting up again, she met your eyeline, the motion accompanied by a deliberate brush of loose strands of hair behind her ear.

Her gaze held a depth of understanding as she continued, "You guys clearly love each other, given you've known each other forever. He's always Mr. Funny Guy with you, perpetually super flirty and protective...I genuinely believe he'd be happy to oblige."

Absorbing Pansy's counsel with a thoughtful nod, you murmured a grateful, "I'll think about it."

Rising in unison, the two of you traversed to your respective wardrobes, swapping the gravity of the previous discourse for the ease of more casual attire. Satisfied with your choices, you exited the dorm, descending toward the common room. The soft glow of dimmed sconces on stone walls cast an intimate ambiance, while a low hum of hushed conversations and sporadic laughter created a comforting background symphony.

As you stepped into the common room, an immediate sense of unease gripped you. Your attention honed in on the far corner, where a palpable commotion unfolded. Brows furrowing with concern, your gaze fixated on a group of clustered bodies--Mattheo Riddle, Lorenzo Berkshire, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott all converged around someone.

Instinctively, you made your way over, Pansy following closely behind. As you approached the charged scene, you reached out, placing a steadying hand on Mattheo's arm in an attempt to capture his attention. The air buzzed with tension as you sought to understand the cause of the brewing conflict.

"Matt, what's happening?" you inquired, peering past him to catch sight of a bloodied Malfoy standing at the center of the circle. "Did you do this?"

"No, it was Nott," he retorted, his dark eyes meeting yours as he ran a hand through his dishelved curly hair. "They had a little disagreement--nothing too crazy."

Your gaze swept around the circle, capturing the aftermath of the disagreement. Malfoy wiped the blood from his chin on the back of his hand, keeping his gaze glued to the floor. Meeting everyone's eyes, your search finally settled on Theo, his nose bleeding and a minor cut marring his chin.

A heavy sigh escaped you, the weariness evident in your tone. "Do your petty disagreements always have to escalate into a damn bloodbath?"

Mattheo nonchalantly shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. "When they involve Nott...pretty much, yeah."

With an exasperated scoff, you distanced yourself from him, striding purposefully toward Theo. The cerulean depth of his eyes locked onto yours as you approached, a battered hand running through his tousled hair as he shook his head in a frustrated scowl.

"What happened?" you inquired, genuine concern lacing your voice. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Theo's jaw clenched, his stormy gaze shifting from your face to fixate on something over your shoulder. "Sorry prat had it coming."

His eyes locked onto Draco, who was now being tended to by Pansy, the lingering fury evident in the tight set of his jaw and the fire in his gaze. Theo was not merely angry; he was simmering with a profound frustration that permeated the air around him. Sensing his reluctance to share details, you delicately grasped his arm, lowering your voice into a soothing whisper.

"Come on, Theo," you murmured, your tone gentle and calming. "Let's get you cleaned up, alright?"

With a reluctant nod, he cast one last glance over your shoulder before allowing you to guide him out of the common room and back down the dormitory hall. Upon reaching his dorm, he unlocked the door with a brief motion, and you stepped in first.

Navigating the familiar space, you headed straight to his bathroom, grabbing a wet cloth and some ointment. As he took a seat on his bed, the routine unfolded seamlessly--a ritual born out of many similar occasions. Cleaning up your best friend was a well-practiced chore, a testament to his quick temper and penchant for confrontation. It was second nature to you, an unspoken agreement that you'd always be there for him in these moments.

Emerging from the bathroom, you noticed Theo had already cast a silencing and muffling spell over the room. A waft of smoke hung in the air as he lit up a cigarette, his darkened gaze keenly tracking your every movement as you approached.

You came to a halt in front of him, and he widened his stance, creating a space for you to nestle between his legs. Seated on his bed while you stood, the two of you aligned perfectly at eye level. A surge pulsed through you as you observed his plush lips sealing around the cigarette, his long fingers delicately holding it to his mouth. After a quick ashing on his nightstand, he granted you the space to tend to him.

Raising the cloth to his chin, you softly dabbed over the cut, your gaze fixed on the subtle flutter of his long lashes--like delicate wings of a butterfly. A scowl etched his features, and your hands trembled inexplicably, watching his brows furrow, his teeth chewing on his bottom lip. His own hands rested on his knees on either side of your hips, fingers twitching from the sting of your movements.

In a bid to alleviate some of his discomfort, your voice echoed as a delicate murmur. "Do you remember the first time I did this?"

"How could I forget?" He met your gaze, his stormy eyes flickering as his lips teased a subtle smirk. "My personal saviour, always cleaning up my messes."

Pleased with the condition of the cut, you glided the cloth along the sharp ridge of his jawline, meticulous in collecting every trace of dried blood. Progressing to his nose, you repeated the careful process--his eyes remained fixed on your face, observing each subtle movement as you concentrated on restoring his appearance, gently swiping over his lips last.

Grinning at his words, you locked eyes with him. "You're right...I've been quite the skilled nurse, haven't I?"

He chuckled, a deep sound resonating through his chest, the corner of his mouth lifting into a half-smile. "The best damn nurse I've ever had."

You laughed, a warmth dancing across your skin as you pulled the cloth from his face.

"Now that's a compliment, considering you've been in the hospital wing a lot of damn times," you quipped, playfully raising an eyebrow. "I should be getting compensation for my efforts."

"Compensation?" He grinned, the playful glint in his blue eyes unmistakable. "How about I owe you a pack of cigarettes and a promise to keep the brawls to a minimum?"

Smirking, you couldn't hide the amusement dancing in your eyes. "Please, you and I both know your promises mean very little, Nott." As you stepped back, you added, "but I'll take the cigarettes."

Before you could get very far, Theo's large hand wrapped firmly around your wrist, halting your movements as well as the breath in your lungs. Your gaze riveted to the hand, the touch sending a shiver through your skin, before slowly moving back up to meet Theo's eyes. Within their depths churned something profound, a silent intensity that stopped your heart in your chest.

"You want to know why I fought him?" he said, his voice so deep it was almost imperceptible. "Malfoy."

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you waited for him to elaborate. "Sure."

Theo's grip tightened on your wrist, his jaw tensing as his eyes drilled into yours. "He said that if he wasn't with Pansy, he'd have gotten with you a long time ago," he confessed, the words carrying a mix of frustration and vulnerability. "He claimed your hard-to-get facade is all an act...that you're really a little slut..."

Your eyes widened at Theo's revelation, a mixture of surprise and disbelief sweeping across your features. Your pulse quickened, feeling the intensity of his gaze and the gravity of the situation.

"He said that?" you muttered, the weight of Malfoy's words sinking in. Theo's grip on your wrist loosened, and a subtle vulnerability flickered in his eyes as his hand slid lower, fingers finding yours.

"I don't care what he thinks, but hearing him talk about you like that...I couldn't let it slide," he admitted, his voice softer now, revealing the protective undertone that fueled his actions. "He doesn't know..."

"...that I'm a virgin," you said, finishing his sentence with a hushed admission.

Theo's expression softened as he nodded, and his thumb gently traced circles on the back of your hand.

"I don't want anyone disrespecting you like that, especially not him," he said, a mixture of concern and sincerity in his gaze. "You're a fucking angel, he doesn't deserve to even think about you."

Your heart pounded in your chest, warmth spreading through you at his words. Your gaze locked in with his, his eyes momentarily dropping to your lips, yours doing the same. The air between you thickened, charged with unspoken emotions as Theo’s declaration lingered. His protective stance and words resonated deeply, and you couldn’t help but feel the gravity of his sentiments.

Silent acknowledgment settled within you, a quiet admission that the dynamics between you and Theo had shifted. The boy who had once been your childhood best friend was now a source of desire and an unexpected depth of affection. Over the years, his presence had woven into the fabric of your heart, evolving into a sentiment that transcended mere friendship.

"Thank you, Theo..." you murmured, involuntarily leaning closer. "Thank you for-"

Before you could finish the sentence, Theo's hands shifted with intent, cradling the sides of your face as he drew your lips to his. The hunger in his mouth was palpable, a dance of devotion and purpose, his tongue delving past your teeth without a moment's hesitation.

Your lids fluttered shut, your brain caught off guard, taking a seemingly eternal five seconds to gather itself from the molten state it found itself in, the realization dawning that you weren't merely passively enjoying this kiss--you were actively engaging, meeting his fervour with equal intensity.

Your hands instinctively sought his messy hazelnut strands, fingers threading through them as you pressed against him, the world beyond the kiss momentarily forgotten in the heated exchange. As the kiss progressed, your mind struggled to fathom the reality of locking lips with your best friend--a completely sober, unrestrained exchange with no intentions of stopping.

And then, before you could process it, large hands enveloped your lower thighs, drawing you closer as Theo reclined onto his plush green duvet, the soft fabric embracing his back with a gentle touch. Your hands landed involuntarily with a deliberate force on his chest, seeking stability as you shifted to straddle his waist.

The kiss intensified, one of his hands securing the back of your head, while the other boldly explored the curve of your hip, his pelvis pressing against yours, his erection evident even between your layers of clothing.

A low, involuntary moan escaped your lips as his undeniable hardness pressed against you, a sensation that sent shivers down your spine. It kindled a fervent desire within you, a flame only he could stoke. Your hands transitioned from his chest and back into the tousled richness of his hair, fingers entwining in the silky strands. Breaking the kiss momentarily, you caught your breath, panting softly as you gazed down at him through eyes clouded with lust.

Theo's lips curled into a knowing smirk, evident satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he surveyed the effect he had on you. His hands traversed the landscape of your back, drawing you back down to him. Your bodies melded together, the heat rising between you palpable. You instinctively moved your hips against his crotch, craving more of the intoxicating friction that left your senses spinning, and a low groan escaped him, his hands guiding your hips back and forth.

"What are we doing..." Theo whispered, his voice a breathy murmur, his head falling back, and his eyes squeezing shut in a moment of quiet contemplation. "I told myself I wouldn't do this with you again."

Your heart hammered in your throat, your fingers trembling as his hands grazed the curve of your ass. In a mere pant, you breathed, "do what?"

His fingers traced a slow path to the back of your head, gently guiding your lips back to his.

The heat between you intensified as he whispered, "this," against your mouth, his soft breath sparking heat in your veins.

A low, desperate sound escaped your throat, a mixture of a mewl and a moan, as the fire in your core reached an almost unbearable intensity. Theo groaned in response, his grip on your hips tightening, and with a swift motion, he flipped the two of you around, placing you on your back beneath him. His hips pressed into yours with a force that felt like an attempt to fuse you with his mattress, his hands finding purchase on either side of your head, trapping you beneath him.

"Theo," you murmured against his lips, your hands tugging on his hair in a desperate attempt to part his mouth from yours, yearning for a breath of air. "Theo...”

Refusing to break the kiss, Theo groaned into your mouth, his hand cradling the side of your head, his thumb brushing over your cheek with a feather-light touch. He rocked his hips against you, both teetering on the brink of losing yourselves entirely. The restrained passion and tension accumulated from years of friendship were on the verge of breaking free.

Finally, in a gasp of air, Theo pulled back, both of your chests heaving, your lungs reaching for oxygen in desperation. His blue eyes dipped over your face, lingering for a moment before trailing lower. With a regretful realization, he shifted back onto his knees, putting a disappointing amount of space between your bodies, as if just coming to terms with the consequences of his actions.

"Fuck," he murmured, running an unsteady hand through his hair. "I...I'm sorry-"

"Theo...I want you," you cut him off, the desperation evident in your voice as you expressed your desire for him. "Please..."

Theo's eyes flickered, and he blinked, momentarily taken aback. "You..."

"Yes," you whispered, a subtle flush colouring your cheeks as you pushed aside any embarrassment. "I want you to be my first, Theo."

Theo leaned back down, his hand gently cupping your chin as he directed your eyes to meet his intense gaze, his fingers digging into your skin only slightly.

"Are you fucking serious?" he questioned, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "Don't play with me, principessa..."

"Why on earth would I joke about something like that?" you replied, a teasing smirk playing on your lips. "Of course, I'm serious."

Theo's countenance softened with a tender gaze as he scrutinized your face, searching for any traces of hesitation or uncertainty. Discovering none, he leaned in, planting a delicate kiss against your lips. His hand gracefully transitioned from your chin, weaving into your hair with a gentle, reassuring touch.

"You don't know how fucking long I've wanted you," he whispered against your mouth, his eyes reflecting the intensity of his desire. "But I don't want to fucking hurt you...I don't know if I'll be able to control myself..."

Your fingers gently traced the contours of his face as you held his gaze. "Theo, we've known each other for so long, there's no one I trust more than you...I know you'll be gentle with me..."

Theo's gaze softened further at your words, and he leaned in for another kiss. His hand embarked on a slow journey from the strands of your hair, delicately tracing the curves of your body until it found the waistband of your sweats, teasingly playing with it.

"Gonna' need to ease you into it, principessa," he whispered against your lips, his warm breath mingling with yours. "Let me know if it's too much, alright?"

As you nodded, your hands migrated from his shoulders to entwine in his hair. His hand daringly slipped beneath the cotton fabric, and a gasp involuntarily escaped your lips as he skillfully explored the warmth between your thighs with his fingers. Simultaneously, his lips traced a tantalizing path down past your jawline, each touch sending shivers down your spine.

"Mm, you're already so fucking wet for me..." he nipped your neck and you squealed, fingers gripping fistfuls of his hair. "Gonna' fill you up so good...stretch you out just for me..."

Pleasure rippled through your thighs, your heartbeat thumping in your core. "Theo..."

"Mhmm," he breathed as he trailed lower, mouth grazing over your collarbone, long fingers teasing over your clit, coating himself in your slick. "Fuck, I've wanted to hear you moan my name like that for years...you've completely fucking tortured me, bella..."

You gasped as he teased your clit again, fervent fingers digging into his scalp. "You-you never made a move-"

Theo groaned against your skin, his free hand sliding up to pull your shirt along your stomach, and then skillfully tugging on your bra, exposing your bare chest to his hungry gaze. His lips parted, and a deep lust filled his eyes as he immediately cupped one breast in his palm, skillfully flicking a stiffening nipple between his fingers.

"Fuck me," he muttered before pulling one of your nipples into his mouth, skillfully twirling his tongue around the bud. "I didn't want to complicate our friendship, bella mia...I didn't want to risk losing you..."

Theo's mouth moved to your other nipple, and he deftly took it between his lips, suckling on it before tracing circles around it with his tongue. You moaned, feeling your body respond to his touch, your hips jerking involuntarily as he pushed a finger inside of you, causing you to cry out in pleasure. His thumb resumed its motions on your clit, coaxing sounds of desire from deep within you.

Heat scorched your blood. "F-fuck, Theo..."

"Is this okay?" he muttered, pulling back slightly to examine your face. "You're so fucking tight."

You nodded, incapable of forming a coherent thought as your body's reaction was immediate, every fiber of your being inundated by intense, mind-numbing pleasure. Theo groaned as he brought his lips back to your nipple, skillfully pulling it into his mouth. Your entire body quivered beneath him, unable to comprehend how rapidly your impending orgasm was overwhelming you.

"Oh, Gods, Theo..." you gasped, your fingers tightening their hold in his hair like you were trying to pry it from his scalp. "Oh, fuck-"

Theo heightened his rhythm, skillfully adding another finger inside you as he fervently zeroed in on your sensitive nub with vigorous strokes. Your vocabulary dissolved into a symphony of flailing wails and moans, your eyes rolling back in sheer ecstasy as he sensually flicked his tongue over one nipple before seamlessly transitioning to the other.

"That's right, darling..." he cooed against your chest, his voice torn and barely restrained, a low rasp that sent a thrill up your spine. "Let go for me...I've got you..."

His words alone ignited a blaze of warmth across your skin, and as much as you desired to resist, to not succumb so swiftly, it was inevitable and overwhelming, your orgasm slamming into you like a powerful shot to the gut.

"Shit-Theo!" Your jaw fell slack, eyes rolling back. "I'm-i'm-"

Your vision whitened as you broke, every nerve in your body pulsating with ecstasy. It was a wave crashing over you, leaving you breathless and trembling in its wake. Theo's movements never faltered, his touch relentless, drawing out every ounce of pleasure from your shuddering form.

"That's it--fuck--so perfect..." he breathed, rubbing you through the remnants of your aftershocks. "Such a good fucking girl...did that feel good?"

You nodded, still gasping for breath as you tried to compose yourself. "Yes," you said, feeling a flush of embarrassment on your cheeks. "It felt amazing."

"Yeah?" Theo whispered, his hand withdrawing as he shifted to press his lips softly against yours. "You like cumming for your best friend, huh? Enjoy making a mess all over my fingers?"

You released a throaty groan against his demanding mouth as his skilled hands effortlessly peeled down your sweatpants and panties, revealing the goosebumped flush of your skin. His shirt swiftly joined the discarded clothes, exposing the sculpted lines of his torso. Unrelenting, his eyes remained fixed on yours as he leaned back to undo his belt with a controlled urgency.

Once successful, he leaned back over you and a large hand cupped your jaw, his voice a low, commanding murmur.

"I didn't hear an answer," he stated, the timbre of his words sending shivers down your spine. "Perhaps I need to make you cum again?"

You huffed, a subtle squirm beneath him accentuating the anticipation, his free hand teasing the tender skin of your inner thigh. "Theodore..."

"Would you like that?" he muttered, his lips drawing nearer, the grip on your jaw tightening. "You want me to make you cum all over my bedsheets again, hm?"

His fingers caressed over your heat, teasing your folds, and you arched against his touch, drawing a groan from deep in his chest. You could sense he was attempting to buy himself time, to talk himself down from his excitement. His restraint hung by a thread, self-control wavered under the sight of you withering beneath him.

Swallowing hard, your throat felt drier than the desert as you met his gaze with pleading eyes. "Please, Theo," you whimpered, "stop teasing."

"Fuck--so eager for me, yeah?" he purred, releasing your jaw to slide his boxers down his thighs, pulling free his thick, long cock. "Let's see if we can sate this pretty little pussy."

Your breath fled from your lungs, your jaw practically dropping to the floor. He was massive, even in his own big hand, even as he pumped himself, sliding his fist back and forth over his length as his eyes burned wounds into the flesh of your tits. You whined, your core clenching and screaming with need, drool threatening to pour down the sides of your lips as your desperate eyes shifted between his eyes and his dick.

"Fucking hell, Theo..." your brain struggled to form coherent thoughts, and those words were the only ones that managed to slip past your lips. "You never mentioned...so massive..."

He huffed, and you knew he was watching you--his irises igniting in flames, a tiny smirk teasing his lips as you watched him stroke himself faster, harder.

"I didn't want to intimidate you before you got to experience how good it can be," he murmured, his voice low and laced with satisfaction. "Besides, I'm well aware of your disdain for men with oversized egos."

Your breath caught in your throat as your brain struggled to process the revelation. Losing your virginity to your lifelong best friend, who knew you better than you knew yourself, and who had purposely kept the extent of his endowment a secret, fearing it might scare you off. The boundary between reality and dream blurred, leaving you in a surreal haze of disbelief.

"Just shut up and show me," you finally managed to whisper, your desire overcoming any reservations. "Show me how good it can be."

"Easy, principessa, don't get greedy now," he murmured, his hands firmly grasping your thighs to pull you closer. "You're not ready for everything I have to offer just yet."

Theo leaned back over you, trailing hot open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck and over your collarbone--forearm framing your face, other hand gripping his cock, angling the glistening tip toward your throbbing entrance, teasing you briefly with a few false thrusts, slicking his length in your wetness.

"Are you ready?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your earlobe. "To feel me inside of you, filling you up?"

Your voice barely more than a breath, you nodded in response, averting your gaze to the ceiling. "Please."

Theo huffed, pulling his face from your neck, long fingers directing your gaze to meet his eyes.

"Look at me, bella..." he looped an arm under your neck, long fingers holding you in place. "I want you to look into my eyes as you feel yourself stretching out for me..."

Your lips parted in awe, speechless and utterly intoxicated. Doing as he said, you held his gaze, feeling yourself slowly getting lost in the ocean waves of his eyes. Theo groaned, his own breath shallow as he pressed the head of his dick into you, pushing you apart, and you whimpered, clenching before he even entered you. You were quaking--and he hissed through his teeth before he'd fully sank into you, letting loose a low, deep groan as your wet cunt swallowed his cock.

"Shh," he purred, glimpsing your lips. "Just a little bit more..."

Pleasure and pain erupted through your bloodstream as he stretched you wide, a sharp cry leaving your throat as he pushed deeper and deeper, stroking into your heat with the pace of a snail, inch by agonizing inch--pausing once he'd sunk in to the base. You could feel his cock pulsing inside of you, and you were breathless, unable to fathom how big he was, how full he made you feel.

"Fucking hell, are you okay?" he muttered almost under his breath, his voice cracking with concern as he looked into your eyes, his blue gaze searching for any sign of distress. When you merely nodded, the desperation in his expressions intensified. "Please, talk to me...keep me grounded..."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," you mumbled, still trying to catch your breath. "And what do you mean, 'keep you grounded'?"

Theo sighed heavily, emitting a low groan, his breath catching in his lungs as he withdrew slightly before smoothly gliding back into you. You whimpered, still holding his gaze, lips parted in unbelievable bliss. His hand cradled your head, staring at you with gleaming eyes as he found his rhythm, keeping every stroke deep and careful and full.

"I-I, fuck," he grunted through gritted teeth as he stared down at you. "You're so tight, so fucking wet...I can barely control myself..."

He lowered himself, ensnaring your lips in a profound, fervent kiss while maintaining a deliberate pace within you. Each rhythmic thrust unleashed renewed waves of ecstasy, prompting unrestrained moans from your chest and sending you writhing beneath him.

"You feel so good," he whispered as one of his hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch as he slowly began to increase the tempo of his thrusts. "I can't believe how fucking tight you are. You're going to make me cum so fucking hard, my pretty little virgin."

Your nails clawed at his back, your walls squeezing his thick length with every thrust. "Theo-harder, please..."

"Yeah? You want more, pretty girl?" he whispered, warm breath enveloping your ear. "Such a needy little pussy..."

You gasped, nodding as his lips attacked your neck. "Please, please-"

"Anything for you," he responded, his voice torn, each syllable saturated with longing. "Filthy little--fuck,"

He surged into heightened motion, the force of his hips colliding with yours intensifying upon your command. A sharp cry escaped you when he skillfully found that responsive spot within you, immediately unleashing a cascade of pleasure that surged through your body like electric currents. The intensity reached a near-overwhelming point, a delicate dance between ecstasy and a hint of exquisite pain, causing unbridled moans to spill from your lips uncontrollably.

"Mm," he grunted, a near growl in your ear. "Pretty pussy taking me so well,"

His paced increased again, slamming into your cervix with every thrust. His fingers resumed their work on your clit, yanking you toward your climax, your body being whiplashed with pleasure. You bit down on his shoulder, desperate to muffle your screams as your pussy squeezed him harder, yanked to the edge by the stretch of his cock slamming into you, his fingers battering your nub.

"Theo--w-wait," your words stumbled amidst waves of pleasure, your body convulsing beneath his unyielding onslaught. "Theo, please-I can't, I-it's too much...”

"Come on baby, I know you're close," his voice, raspy and unbridled, revealed the shattering of his self-control. He relentlessly pounded into you, beads of sweat adhering his hair to a glistening forehead. "I felt you squeezing me--fuck--you can take it..."

You gasped for breath, a desperate symphony echoing your lungs' protest as your teeth found refuge in his skin. Fingers, possessed by an almost primal force, clawed into his back, leaving an indelible mark. Theo's movements, unyielding and masterful, propelled you inexorably towards the precipice of climax, each sensation more vivid than the last.

"Theo-" you practically screamed, your body buzzing in anticipation. "I'm gonna' cum, Theo-fuck-"

"Let me hear you," he said, voice shredded raw. "I want to hear you scream for me...I want to hear you moaning my name as this tight little cunt breaks for me..."

"Oh, fuck.." you moaned, eyes squeezing shut. "Fuck, Theo...oh Gods, fuck..."

You shattered, euphoria tearing through you as your walls pulsed and milked his cock. Your eyes rolled back, vision going blank as squeals and screeches left your lips in nothing more than mumbling nonsense.

Theo groaned, bliss numbing your skin, limbs shaking and trembling as he pulled you through wave after wave of pleasure, gripping you tighter until he too exploded, breath sputtering as he poured himself into you, hips bucking until the only sensation left was sweaty, heaving, post-orgasmic rapture.

In the aftermath, an extended silence enveloped the room--long after the cadence of your breaths normalized, long after the faculties of your minds fully reassembled. Theo finally stirred, rolling off you to settle on the mattress, where he promptly drew you into the sanctuary of his embrace.

"Can we acknowledge our feelings already?" Theo teased, fingers delicately brushing loose strands of hair behind your ear. “You know I’ll fight you if we go back to just being friends after all of that.”

You huffed, on the precipice of unrestrained laughter. "Only if you go first."

As you shifted to lock eyes with him, a smirk adorned his face, that mischievous grin unfurling across his impeccably plush lips. "Fine…I'm fucking in love with you."

Your own smirk surfaced, a surge of warmth coursing through you as you leaned in, brushing your lips against his. "I'm in love with you too, you dork."

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aventurineswife · 19 days ago

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Anaxa with a reader who acts like a mitigation unit for whenever he says something blasphemous and leaves people wanting to punch him lmao

The reader is soft-spoken and gentler in disposition (much like castorice) and not exactly on par with him in terms of ingenuity, so some people wonder how they ended up together. But eh, who cares? Anaxa loves them anyways. Though, spending time with him is not good for their heart since whenever he states something outrageous, the reader will chime in with a "he doesn't mean that" and attempt to smoothen the tension, only for this dromas loving nerd to ruin the peace by spouting something like "no, actually, I meant every word I say" and the reader just stares up at the heavens, gaze resigned, and inwardly prays that they won't be stoned to death in that very moment

Bonus if they're taller than anaxa. I just think it would be cute if the reader has to constantly bend down whenever anaxa has something to say. Just the overall trope of the tall one being meek and withdrawn while the short one is feisty and outspoken

“He doesn’t mean that… I think”

Summary: You're the tall, soft-spoken partner of Anaxagoras—the infamous scholar with a talent for making blasphemous statements that nearly get you both stoned on a regular basis. While he fearlessly challenges gods and sages with wild theories and cutting wit, you're always close behind, offering polite smiles, calming words, and the occasional desperate "he doesn’t mean that." Despite your gentler nature and quieter intellect, Anaxa is fiercely devoted to you, pulling you into his chaotic orbit with unwavering affection. It’s loud, it’s intense, and your spine might just be made of divine patience.

Tags: Anaxagorus x Reader, Opposites Attract, Height Difference, Chaotic Genius x Soft-Tall Partner, Damage Control Partner, Romantic Tension, Emotional Vulnerability, Found Family Elements, Slow Burn (Implied), Philosophical Drama, “He Doesn’t Mean That” Energy, Protective Reader.

Warnings: Themes Of Death And Loss, Mentions Of Religious And Academic Conflict, Blasphemy (Fictional Context), Light Emotional Angst, Mild Language, Potential Reader Endangerment (Non-Graphic, Played For Irony/Humor), Anaxagorus being Anaxagorus.

A/N: I love this man, can you tell? 😋💚

It always starts with him saying something he absolutely shouldn’t.

The atmosphere in the courtyard of the Grove is as tense as a taut bowstring. A gathering of scholars and disciples encircle the infamous Anaxagoras, their faces twitching with barely concealed disdain, curiosity, or both. And there you are, standing right beside him like a loyal, bewildered lighthouse in the middle of an academic storm.

“…And that, my dear sages,” Anaxa declares, arms dramatically flared, coat swishing like some peacock possessed by hubris, “is why divine authority is nothing but an inherited illusion. If a god needs worship to maintain power, is it not merely a glorified parasite?”

Silence.

Not a respectful kind of silence. The "someone-is-about-to-throw-a-chair" kind of silence.

You blink. Smile nervously. And step in, gently placing a hand on Anaxa’s shoulder—he’s still mid-pose, soaking in the shocked silence like it’s validation—and clear your throat. You lean forward slightly, voice as gentle as spring rain.

“He doesn’t mean that.”

“I do,” Anaxa replies immediately, not even turning to look at you. “And if anyone disagrees, they’re welcome to explain how an all-powerful being managed to trip over the concept of mortality.”

You don't even sigh anymore. You just look up at the skies, lips silently mouthing the names of all the gods, hoping one of them has a sense of humor.

People often ask how the two of you ended up together.

You, the serene, quiet mitigation unit who wears soft colors and softer expressions. Him, the sharp-tongued philosopher whose idea of a romantic date involves reading banned texts and dismantling holy logic.

“They're not even on the same wavelength,” someone once whispered, watching you gently tug Anaxa back from yet another oncoming theological brawl. “How does it even work?”

You weren’t sure either.

Maybe it’s the way his eyes soften when you’re the one holding the scalpel during a shared experiment. Or how he lets you tie his ponytail every morning, mumbling critiques about symmetry but never actually fixing it. Or how he always looks for you in a room before he speaks—to see if you're there to watch the world burn with him.

Maybe it’s just love. Bizarre, inexplicable love.

Even if that love occasionally comes with public threats of excommunication.

You’re taller than him, of course. He pretends not to notice. But when he speaks, you always instinctively lean down just slightly, hands politely folded, like you’re giving a particularly chaotic child your full attention.

“Listen,” he says one day, post-lecture, voice low and dramatic, “I’ve discovered a correlation between Titan souls and the latent fear gods have of mortality. My next paper will be titled ‘The Cowards in the Sky.’”

You stare at him. Then glance nervously at the passing sages.

“He doesn’t mean that,” you murmur.

“I do,” Anaxa snaps, tilting his head up at you with that familiar glint of mischief and defiance. “And if I vanish in the middle of the night, assume they finally sent divine assassins. You’ll avenge me, won’t you?”

You rub your temple. “I’ll try to negotiate.”

“And you call yourself devoted,” he mutters, smug.

Still, for all the chaos he invites, Anaxa clings to you like a man who has seen too much fire and finds comfort in quiet.

When the nights are cold and long, he curls against you like he’s hiding from ghosts, his left hand resting just above yours. Sometimes, in those fragile hours, he whispers the names of people who aren’t alive anymore. Sometimes, he whispers yours like it's the only name he trusts to stay.

You don’t always understand the depth of his genius. You don’t have to.

You’re there. That’s enough.

You ground him, and occasionally save both your lives from being pelted by rocks.

“I’ve concluded,” Anaxa says one day, while reclining on your lap beneath a half-dead tree, “that your spine must be made of divine patience.”

You smile faintly, brushing a strand of mint hair from his face.

“And I’ve concluded,” you reply, voice barely audible, “that your mouth is going to get us killed one day.”

He laughs.

“You love me, still?”

You lean down slowly, forehead resting against his.

“Unfortunately,” you whisper.

And he grins.

“Good. That makes two of us.”

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lilimaginebean · 4 months ago

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reverse trope writing prompt

note: I found it in my pinterest and knew I had to do it

TOO MANY BEDS

RYUSEI SHIDOU didn't expect you to book a room with twin beds on your first trip as a couple. He was relieved when you went back to the lobby to complain about the suite you were given, as you had asked for one with a queen bed. You came back defeated, the hotel couldn't give you that room because it was already booked. Shidou just smiled and said "Well, we can use one bed to fuck and the other to sleep".

ACCIDENTALLY KIDNAPPING A MAFIA BOSS

REO MIKAGE couldn't have found the situation any funnier. There he was, tied to a chair, staring at you and your best friend as you argued. Apparently, the two of you were new recruits for Mikage's rival Mafia family, the Sakamoto. The Sakamoto had just asked the two of you to kidnap one of Mikage's subordinates in order to get some information. Little did you know that you had accidentally kidnapped the boss, and if the Mikage clan found out that their boss had been kidnapped, they would start a war between the two clans. "I won't tell anyone if you go out with me," Reo said, pointing at you. You shouldn't have left college.

DIVORCE OF CONVENIENCE

SAE ITOSHI is finally single again, and his fans are going crazy over the news. A few months ago, some noisy magazine revealed that Sae had been married to you, an up-and-coming sports reporter, for two years. His fans started attacking him and you, all your hard work to get there, was reduced to just "Sae's partner for life". Best decision? Pretending to get a divorce. He wouldn't have obsessed fans flirting all his information and you wouldn't be verbally harassed. If the fans knew that while they were celebrating the news he was loving you harder in your new and more private apartment.

DATING YOUR ENEMY’S SIBLING

YOICHI ISAGI and you have been dating for 6 months, enough time to finally introduce him to your family. There he was, sweating and trying to keep cool. He wanted to make a good impression. Finally, he rang the doorbell with a big smile on his face. But his smile faded when he realised that the overprotective siblings were some familiar faces: the Itoshi siblings. Sae looked down at him and Rin just closed the door, leaving Isagi outside. He was screwed.

INSTEAD OF FAKE DATING, EVERYONE IS CONVINCED THAT YOU AREN’T ACTUALLY DATING

RIN ITOSHI couldn't believe that the same thing that had happened to his older brother was happening to him. Not only that, but the same magazine. Unlike Sae, things had taken a different turn for you and him. People didn't believe that he and you, the sweetheart idol of Japan, were together, they said that the pictures were too blurry and that if those two figures were you and him, they couldn't see any chemistry. Oh no. At the next event Rin brought you as your plus one and he showed everyone how much of a couple you were.

🎋masterlist | next

#blue lock #bluelock x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #bllk imagines #bllk x you #bllk x reader #isagi yoichi #rin itoshi #sae itoshi #reo mikage #shidou ryusei #isagi x reader #rin x reader #sae x reader #shidou x reader #reo x reader

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sunboki · 5 months ago

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⎯ for eternity longer. (teaser) ⟡ featuring christopher bahng

🍼 : Christopher Bahng x implied! fem. reader

TROPE. pregnancy! au, dad! channie au, overall so so fluffy, comfort, slighttt angst if you squint

WORD COUNT. estimated to be around 4-6k words

WARNINGS. worry about delivery complications, cursing (??), anxiety

AUG'S NOTES. welcome to… brainrot central, the blog YOU can visit whenever you need a daily dosage of utter brainrot from yours truly. this piece is definitely front cover because ughhh our channie as a dad has lived in my head for years, very happy to finally be bringing my ideas to life :)

PLAYLIST.

SYNOPSIS. Christopher Bahng had intentions upon one day being a father, but when the news of a little one on the way becomes the forefront of a life he’d initially spent with one world, you, he’s quickly introduced to the second world he’ll come to adore, a baby.

or alternatively :

Blossoming beginnings, and the bump.

“Channie, baby,”

His name is whispered between sleepy breaths, brows knitted where your eyes attempt at focusing amidst a slumbering haze.

The meager vision granted from a candle paves view to your husband, currently resting his cheek against the soft bump of your belly, pressing the occasional kiss there.

“It’s so cute,” He mumbles, tracing shapes along the skin, eyes crinkling into the dimpled-smile you’ve come to adore.

“‘S late.”

Offering the remark, you smooth a thumb along his jaw, dipping down to trace his bottom lip and earning a small peck against the digit in reply, chocolate irises flickering up to your face with so much love you fear you’re melting.

“I know,” Chris whispers where his lips press to your thumb, voice muffled. “I’m sorry just—“

One chaste kiss to your belly later and he cracks a smile.

“Just love it.”

Another kiss, then another.

“Love you, love this. I’m so happy.”

You are my world, he professes wordlessly, and you scorn the heaviness of your eyes in shielding him from view, the inability for your vocal cords to utter those same three words as you drift back to sleep.

And this is my second world, Chris thinks to himself, fighting slumber to gaze at you just a moment longer, savor.

Because he couldn’t explain how lucky he is, and how beautiful you are, and how warm he feels, his head fuzzy and jumbled into mushy bliss.

A baby, and the thought alone makes him want to squeal.

Chris had yet to ever be hit by a tsunami (thank goodness for that), but he thinks he’s found an equivalent to the feeling.

That equivalent being a particular call while in the studio, an unsettlingly studious Han Jisung seated behind him on the couch while Changbin stands in the recording room, pointing out things in need of fine tuning.

So when you call, he’s led to believe it could be regarding dinner, maybe a date preposition away from his busied schedule.

Yet, upon hearing a sniffle, his eyes round to the size of saucers, index aptly missing where he’d click his mouse, drawing the attention of his fellow producers, their eyes narrowed in mild concern.

“Chris.. baby, I know this is so.. so sudden but,” Between your hiccups and his heart racing, he reruns everything that could’ve gone amiss. He knew you were running late when it came to your period thanks to the cycle-tracking app on his phone, but then again, usually it’d miraculously show up.

Maybe he’d said something? Forgotten something?

Birthday, anniversary, a family member passing?

His head fills with a plethora of possibilities, too many to pinpoint.

“Baby I,” You pause, and Chris rises up to slip to the corner of the room, shushing you gently.

“Hey, hey honey, ‘need you to take deep breaths, okay? It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay. Tell me whenever you’re ready.” He consoles, shifting from foot to foot in a futile attempt at warding the nerves.

A sharp inhale and then-

“We’re having a baby, Chris. I’m pregnant.”

It’s hard for you to even believe, and Chris swears his stomach jumped to his throat for a moment, making hurried eye contact with an evidently confused Han and Changbin from across the studio.

Pregnant.

Immediately abandoning his work, he grants the two a hurried nod they simply wave in response to, fervently racing from the building and somehow managing to avoid a ticket on his 20-mile-over-the-speed-limit drive home, rushing through the doorway to scoop you up into his arms and hold you close, let you cry as much as you need.

Hell, he’s not the one carrying the baby anyway. You’re the one in need of all the fretting.

As if he didn’t fret over you anyway.

Tender fingers ease back the strands of hair from your face, pressing kiss after kiss to your sniffling frame.

If you want to keep the baby, if you need time to think, time to be alone, he’s ready for that. All of it.

Though contraceptives were always in play when it came to the bedroom, it seemed some things would remain out of control.

“I’m.. hic.. I’m keeping it, okay?”

And he’s okay with that, okay with anything his beloved decides upon, thumbing the tears from your pretty face to place a slow kiss to your lips.

On this presumably routine Thursday of his, Chris finds out he’s going to be a Dad.

sunboki, may 2022 ©

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woantohae · 17 days ago

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I wanna know what love is (Bob Reynolds x reader x Void)

Summary: Bob returns to the tower with the rest of the team and prepares to go on missions. Slowly but surely, he trains and has the help of everyone there if he needs it, especially Y/N.

But Void also returns, and he seems interested in the girl, and will take advantage of every moment to feel her close to him.

Content warnings: fluff, hints of angst, SPOILERS FOR THUNDERBOLTS, Void being obssesed with reader, hints of smut, found family trope, sexual tension, dark! Void.

Author's note: A lot of you ask me to continue this fanfic, so here it is! Hope you like it <333 I'm thinking of writing a While You Were Sleeping au! with Bob and Bucky as the Callaghan brothers..... tell me if you like the idea 💌 @stillinracooncity @looneylooomis @cosmicpixel97

The smell of food invaded Y/N's nostrils. They had prepared different dishes—consisting of macaroni and cheese, sandwiches, and a few slices of pizza—to celebrate Bob's arrival at the tower after so long without seeing the full team.

The laughter never stopped, and the buzz of conversations around the table never seemed to end. The warmth of the room made Y/N finally feel part of something. Part of a family that had been through similar things in their lives and could understand each other almost immediately. She still missed her brothers, and there wasn't a day she didn't think about Dieter. But the girl didn't allow herself to dwell on the past; she now had a goal in life: to be part of the new Avengers.

"Tell us, Bob, did you miss us?" John asks, chewing on a piece of pizza.

Bob smiles and lets out a nervous laugh, shaking his head.

"Of course I missed you, guys. It was lonely in that house, even though you came to visit me frequently," he replies, playing with his fork in his bowl of mac and cheese.

"Aww, we missed you too, Bob," Yelena says, looking at him fondly.

"Yeah, you were missed around here," Ava continues, nudging him playfully.

"Really missed" Bucky emphasizes giving Y/N a mischievous look, to wich she rolls her eyes.

"Thank you guys," he says, a hint of blush spreading across his cheeks.

Y/N looks up at him with a soft smile and meets those blue orbs for a fleeting moment, before Bob decides to look down at his plate. It was clear their feelings were more alive than ever and on edge.

The table could have been talking about something else, but everyone else could tell by the glances and smiles they were giving each other what they were feeling, so John decides to intervene with a playful smile.

"So, tell me, Bob. Who did you miss the most of the team?" he asks and suddenly the room goes quiet.

Bob opens his mouth to answer, feeling the spotlight on him. Everyone else looks at the brunette, amused, waiting for his answer, even though they already know it—it's obvious when his eyes flit from the table to Y/N.

"Guys, don't bother Bob," the girl says, taking a sip from her glass, even though inside she still wants to know the answer.

A sliver of hope and excitement spreads through her chest, hoping it could be her, but she feels like it would be stupid to even think about it. It seemed like Yelena could be the answer, because they were always together, and she was the one who decided to give Bob a chance and take him in. The complicity was there, so Y/N was almost certain the blonde would got the point for that.

"C'mon! It's just a question. I wanna know too" Alexei says with food on his mouth.

"Dad, please, close your mouth" Yelena sighs and shakes her head.

Ava decides to intervene.

"So, who's the lucky one?" she asks.

The table is still waiting for Bob's response, and before he can answer, the doorbell rings.

"Must be dessert," Bucky says, getting up from the table.

Bob feels his soul return to his body. Because it's not so easy to say that his favorite company was Y/N, the girl who makes his heart race faster than usual and who constantly plagues his mind.

Now wasn't the time.

Now was the time to eat dessert.

———————————

The laughter had ceased, and silence reigned throughout the halls and corners of the tower. Everyone was either asleep or tucked away in their own spaces, trying to get through the night, as was usual.

Apparently, there were two people who couldn't stay still.

On one side was Bob, who wandered the halls trying to get to sleep, but something on his mind was tormenting him. Or rather, Void tormented him. The entity that seemed to be fighting the hardest to emerge and take control of Bob again. It had been doing so frequently lately, especially when a certain female presence was near Bob.

He didn't want to have to lose control again, but Void was plaguing his mind to do it, and he was about to do it if Bob let his guard down.

On the other hand, Y/N was on the couch in the tower's living room, staring out into the night and listening to the rain falling furiously. There were some rumbles of thunder accompanying the ambient noise, which made Y/N adjust the blanket surrounding her body better. It wasn't uncommon for the girl to be unable to sleep, but lately, her mind had been creating dreams where the same person was always invading her head.

That person was Bob.

The dream began with the man trying to take her hand, but as soon as he did, a darkness began to take over his body, trying to encourage her to do the same. Even though she didn't want to do it, there was something that drew her to try. As if this person wanted her to unleash her full power and not consider the consequences. But at the same time, it wanted to take control of her.

To be close to her.

Whatever it was, it made her hair stand on end.

"Shit," she heard someone curse as they entered the room.

Y/N turns her head and looks at Bob, who is standing nervously near the hallway wall, feeling embarrassed at having been caught. She offers him a small smile and shakes her head.

"Can't sleep either?"

Bob laughs nervously and shrugs.

"I've never been able to sleep properly," he replies with a hint of nostalgia in his voice.

Y/N shakes her head ndicating that he should come and sit next to her. The brunette does so almost immediately, stumbling over his steps because he wants so much to be near her. The girl takes off her blanket and covers Bob as soon as he reaches her side of the couch.

The truth is, he'd been thinking about telling her how he felt, but he always chickened out, thinking she couldn't possibly feel the same way. Yelena had made it her mission to tell him that it was more than obvious the feelings they had for each other, and John had even encouraged him to make a move on Y/N. But there was someone who was waiting for the opportunity. And Bob was afraid of that: losing control.

Again.

He couldn't.

Not when it meant Y/N could get hurt in the process.

He would never allow that.

"So, what should we do in the meantime?" Y/N asks with a soft voice.

He frowns slightly and pouts, wondering what to do while he's busy.

"I've never been good at breaking the ice," he admits with a nervous laugh.

You've never been good at anything.

That voice again.

It haunts him forever. Now more than ever.

"We could ask each other questions to get to know each other better," the girl offers, turning her body so her full attention is on Bob. "I'd like to get to know you more."

Bob smiles and nods, feeling a heat spread to his cheeks.

"Sounds good," he says, settling into the couch. "Ladies first."

Y/N smiles and thinks about it for a few seconds before asking.

"Where are you from?" "I was born in Florida. I lived there until I was 16, and then I came to New York," he explains, his voice soft at the memory. "Until I read about the program in Malaysia and the whole Sentry thing, and well... here we are."

He laughs nervously.

"Favorite movie?"

And so they continue, endlessly asking questions, unwilling to break the moment. Although sleep is starting to become a problem, neither of them seems willing to end the conversation—they should cherish this moment however they can, they think to themselves.

She feels the connection with Bob and doesn't want to miss the opportunity to ask him the question that was on her mind that afternoon after lunch.

"You don't have to answer this if it makes you uncomfortable, Bob" Y/N begins saying.

The least she wants to do it's making him feel pressure to respond it. But the growing feeling of curiosity plagues the girl's mind to encourage her to ask this question.

"Of course, Y/N. But I really doubt you'll make me feel like that, you know" he says trying to lighten the mood.

You could never make me feel uncomfortable, he thinks.

Honestly, he was kinda nervous of the question that the girl could possibly ask him. The brunette starts to mentally prepare himself to anything in order to look casual and cool in front of her. The raindrops broke the brief silence between them, giving them a moment of calm so they could talk better.

"When we were having dinner, John ask you something about your favorite teammate coming to check on you and visit you while you were in the lake house," the girl begins to say, testing the waters so as not to sound so hasty or nosy, "and you didn't have time to answer."

Bob swallows and settles back on the couch, fiddling with his fingers. He knows he's trapped and must answer the question, and hates himself for not being able to be confident enough to tell her it's her right away. Even though he's dying to let her know that she's the only one he feels comfortable with and would like to continue being by her side.

Yelena has given him that trust as well, of course. And he was thankful for that.... but the girl in front of him stirs strong emotions inside him that only want to be reciprocated. There's no day that he's not thinking about Y/N — what she's doing, what she's thinking or if there's a small chance that the girl it's thinking about him too. He knows it is something pathetic, because she is way out of his league.

At least that's what the other guy says constantly to him.

"So, I wanted to ask you, and you don't have to answer, of course," she moves her hand to emphasize the last thing said "who was your favorite when we visited you back then?"

"I uh...." he stutters and looks down briefly.

C'mon Bobby. If you don't do it, I will.

"You don't have to..."

"It was you" he finally admits out loud.

Y/N closes her mouth immediately upon hearing his answer and releases the air she had unconsciously accumulated. She looks at him carefully, her eyes soft, waiting for him to continue.

"I don't know when it happened exactly, but it's you," Bob says, and suddenly such a simple answer has become the opportunity to admit his feelings for her.

"I can't get you out of my head and I'm always wondering where you are, what you're doing, or what you're thinking. Damn, I also wonder if you might be thinking about me, but it's ridiculous to even imagine, right?" he says with a humorless laugh "I just know that you're incredible and so beautiful that... god, I can't even think properly when I'm around you"

Y/N feels her heart race with his words and her eyes watered for a moment at the confession.

"All I know is that I'm falling" Bob says and looks directly into her eyes, feeling more confident suddenly "And god, I'm falling hard for you"

Y/N moves closer to join their lips in a kiss, letting him know exactly the same. The man is quick to reciprocate by putting his hands on her waist and holds her body close to him. In one swift motion, he lifts her and settles her onto his lap and continues exploring her mouth with passion and determination. His rough hands rush to feel every corner of her, removing the blanket from her body to get a better feel for her. Grabbing, palming, and caressing every corner of her over her shirt, but his mischievous fingers hide beneath the fabric to feel her skin.

Y/N sighs between kisses, noticing the heat of the moment and questioning Bob's abrupt change of attitude so suddenly, but before she can ask him, Bob's lips attack her neck, making her close her eyes and imprisoning him against her so he won't stop.

"Bob..." she moans and the man lets out a small laugh with a smirk on his face.

"Yeah, sweetie?" he asks her.

"Don't stop, please" she begs him.

The man can respond by holding her to his body and said against the skin of her neck.

"I wasn't planning on"

And he smiles with satisfaction, having achieved his goal.

Having her close to him.

While Bob just hoped he wouldn't hurt her.

I swear if you hurt her...

That's where you're wrong, dear Bob. I'm not planning on hurting her.... but to enjoy having her.

Just like you will, soon.

You can thank me later.

Yeah. Right.

Bob just hopes he will regain control of the situation again, because he can't help but grow desesperate to have her in his arms. To be with her, love her and cherish her.

He knew Void was also enchanted by the girl, but unlike Bob, his purely was obsession. The shy brunette worried he'd harm her in the process, but as long as Bob or Sentry regained control, he'd make sure he didn't do anything to her.

His time will come.

In the meantime, he will wait.

And it'll be worth it.

With her, it'll always be.

#fanfic #fluff #angst #bob reynolds x reader #marvel #thunderbolts #smut #sentry masterlist #sentry x reader #the void x reader #bob reynolds x fem!reader #bob reynolds x female reader #robert reynolds masterlist #robert reynolds x reader #robert reynolds x female reader

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7s3ven · 9 months ago

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HATE YOU, LOVE YOU. aonung x fem! r

[ full masterlist ]

IN WHICH... Aonung has no future mate; as a last resort, he is set to marry the eldest Sully daughter. The only problem is that their hatred for each other runs deep.

Notes: Omatikaya! Sully! Reader, somewhat enemies to lovers (I tried), swearing, age isn’t mentioned but aonung + you are like mid/late teens, no use of y/n, oldest sister (same age as aonung but kiri and tuk and maybe lo’ak are younger than you), one bed trope, arranged marriage

—

You didn't like Aonung from the start. He was rude, egotistical, and overall an entirely unpleasant person to be around.

He could say the same about you. He had always had it out for you from day one. The moment you arrived with your family, Aonung had disliked you the most out of the bunch.

He always found Kiri strange and Lo’ak and Neteyam insufferable but you were the bane of his existence. He almost despised you. The way you walked, talked, and acted released an anger inside of him that felt foreign.

He watched as you strutted around in beautifully beaded loincloths, smiling at the boys who stumbled past you with awestruck expressions. They loved you, he did not.

"Are you sure it's not just jealousy?" Roxto uttered as Aonung's ears folded back at the mere sight of you.

Aonung scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Me? Jealous of her? No way." He scrunched up his nose. "She's a stupid tree hugger." Roxto's eyes darted from Aonung to stare at you. You were sending Aonung an angry glare after accidentally overhearing him.

"A tree hugger, Aonung? At least I don't accidentally swallow sea water every five minutes." You hissed, your thin tail swishing in fury. Aonung returned your glower. "Don't forget how I can easily beat you to a pulp."

Aonung especially hated how you always picked fights. You were nothing like Kiri and Neteyam, who were calm and tried to avoid conflict for their own good. Aonung theorised Lo'ak got his fighting spirit from you. Yet, as shameful as it was to admit, Aonung also knew you could and would beat him in every brawl. Your sharp tongue and quick reflexes always managed to cut him down to size every time.

You lifted a brow as you watched Aonung flex his hands to suppress his frustration at your words.

"You talk like a big boy, but we both know how that'll end." You poke his exposed chest, ears flicking in annoyance. You tilted your head, almost daring him to make another move.

He clenched his jaw, tongue running over his teeth. He knew he should have walked off the moment you approached him, but he didn't. He was regretting it now. You had a spark in your eyes, a telltale sign of you preparing to beat him into the ground.

"Is that a threat, skxawng?" Aonung stepped closer, staring down at you.

"Yeah, you scared?" You retorted with a smirk as your tail flicked in amusement.

Aonung sneered at you. The sight of your lips curved into a smirk did something to him. His pulse quickened, and he couldn't tell if it was because you made him angry or because your pretty face was so close to his.

"As if." Aonung jeered, quickly turning around. You watched him leave, disappointed he hadn't put up a bigger fight. Arguing with Aonung and seeing his shocked face at your quick insults were the highlight of your day.

“Y/N!” You heard Kiri call out for you. You glanced over your shoulder, waving at your sister. “Father is looking for you. I think it’s urgent.” You sighed, ears flopping.

“Coming.” You slowly drawled. The warm sand shifted under your feet as you turned. You fell into step with its Kiri, feeling her curious gaze burn into you.

“What were you two arguing about this time?” Kiri questioned. She could tell by the aggravated look on your face that you had recently spoken to Aonung.

“He’s an idiot.” You muttered, baring your fangs, “I don’t know how anyone can stand him.”

Kiri hummed, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “And yet you always find a way to talk to him.” You shot her a glare in response.

You saw your father, Jake Sully, standing at the entrance of your family pod, pacing back and forth. He lifted his head, looking a little more relieved to see you.

“Father.” You greeted him, looking around curiously. Your mother, Neytiri, stood in the corner of the pod but there was no sign of your two brothers and Tuk. You tilted your head.

“Good luck.” Kiri whispered in your ear. You whipped your head to face her, eyes wide.

“What?” You whispered, panic growing in your chest. Why was Kiri wishing you luck? Had you done something to anger your parents? They had grown used to your squabbles with Aonung to the point where they looked past it.

But you had not punched him, not gotten into any impulsive fights, or caused any trouble. So what could you have possible done?

Your racing thoughts were cut short when Tonowari cleared his throat. Your gaze shifted from him to his wife, Ronal, who stood beside him with her usual calm demeanour. It was Aonung, however, who caught your attention. He stood on the sidelines, equally as confused. Your lips immediately curled into an unimpressed sneer. He mirrored your look, folding his arms over his chest.

The silent exchange of glares were your normal routine now.

Tonowari clearing his throat snapped the two of you back to reality. He shared a brief look with Jake before ushering both you and his son inside the pod. Jake, Neytiri, and Ronal all stood in front of you while Tonowari remained behind, ensuring neither you nor Aonung had the faintest idea of making a run for it.

You and Aonung stood side by side, shoulders brushing. You would have immediately stepped away if it wasn’t for Tonowari keeping you firmly in place. His hand finally slipped off your shoulder as he walked to join Jake, Neytiri, and his mate.

You watched the four of them carefully, eyes narrowed.

“Aonung.” Tonowari addressed his son first, “You have yet to find a mate.” You turned your head to suppress your snickers.

“I don’t think he ever will.” You uttered, rolling your eyes. “And I don’t think I can help with whatever… love problems he’s dealing with.”

“Hush, daughter.” Neytiri snapped, “This is no joking matter.” Your ears straightened up at her harsh tone. She rarely ever spoke to you like that.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Aonung lower his head to hide his mocking grin. Though, he received the same treatment.

“Do not smile, Aonung!” Ronal exclaimed.

You and Aonung locked eyes, wondering what you both had done to end up here. Your tail nervously swished and it took immense control to still it.

“We have been discovering this matter for weeks now. Jake Sully has made it clear that he has no intention of leaving so suddenly.” Tonowari finally spoke up again. “This decision has been carefully considered and, as a last resort, we must take it.”

Your stomach dropped as Tonowari’s gaze landed on you. It quickly flickered to Aonung, who immediately stiffened.

“Y/N.” Jake stepped forward. You tensed, feeling lightheaded all of a sudden. Your father’s expression was firm and you could tell he wasn’t exactly thrilled about the decision Tonowari was referring to. “Your mother and I have discussed it at lengths and we do not want to pressure you into such things but it must be done. For the good of both the Metkayina clan and our family, we have agreed that you two will become a mated pair.”

Your ears loudly ring as your heart almost came to a stop. You and Aonung? A mated pair? You could barely stand being in a five metre radius of each other. How could you be expected to share such proximity?

“Him?!” You exclaimed, pointing a finger at Aonung. “Could you not have chosen anybody else?!”

“Father, Mother, I cannot marry this tree hugger! She will kill me in my sleep!” Aonung shoved you away.

“You will learn to get along.” Ronal’s calm voice pierced the chaos.

“But I hate him!” You shouted, ears pinning against your head.

“And I hate her!” Aonung added, his eyes pleading for his parents to reconsider their choice.

“And that’s the way it’s meant to be!” You both screamed in unison.

Jake raised an eyebrow. “Well, based on that little in-sync thing you two have going on, you should get along just fine.”

Ronal shooed the two of you away so they could discuss private matters. You gladly left, relieved to be free of the suffocating atmosphere.

“This is all your fault.” Aonung hissed as he passed you. You loudly scoffed, reaching out a hand to tug on his tail.

“My fault? It’s your fault that you don’t have a mate! Now I have to consider a future with you of all people!” You pushed him aside, your slim tail slapping his leg to prove your point.

“Well, maybe if you didn’t fool my family into thinking you’re some kind of prissy princess then we wouldn’t be in this situation!” Aonung fired back.

“Oh, look at you. Using big words now. As if you’re any better. You treat other girls decently but when it comes to you, you look like you wanna drown me!”

You heard a quiet hiss slip past Aonung’s slips. “That’s putting it kindly. The things I’d actually do to you are much worse.”

You paused, looking over your shoulder with a disgusted face. Aonung immediately realized his mistake. “That sounded a little more sexual than I intended.” He muttered, “But you get my point!”

“I don’t speak buffoon, sorry.”

“Did you know about this?” He grasped your wrist, pulling you back. You groaned, turning so fast your braided hair almost hit you in the face.

“You think I’d be this angry if I knew? If I knew about the arrangement, I would have been long gone before they announced it to us! Now let go.” You attempted to pry your arm from out of Aonung’s grip but he didn’t falter. “I said let go, jerk!” Out of instinct, you slapped his face. Hard.

His grasp loosened and you were able to free your arm. “Weirdo.” You whispered under your breath as you stormed away. You let Aonung a fuming mess as he held a hand over his cheek. It was turning red from your harsh slap.

Aonung bared his teeth. You had slapped him. Out of everybody you could’ve have hit, you chose him. He watched your retreating figure, teeth clenched out of annoyance yet a blush still spread over his cheeks.

You made the mistake of telling Tsireya after not being able to find Kiri to confide in. Tsireya then told her Metkayina friends who shamelessly spread the gossip. After that, the word of your betrothal spread quickly. Aonung barely had time to return to his own friends before they patted him on the back and laughed.

“You tamed the wild Sully girl!” One exclaimed. Aonung deeply frowned.

“It’s not like I want her to be my mate anyway.” He grumbled. Both you and Aonung were stubborn and hard-headed, preferring to do tasks your own way instead of asking for help. Perhaps that was why the two of you always clashed; because you were too similar for your own good.

You didn’t show your face for the rest of the day. You were stuck in your family’s pod, arguing with your father and trying to change his mind. Your attempts were fruitless.

“I’m going for a walk.” You scoffed, quickly walking away. Nobody tried to stop you. Kiri called out your name but Neytiri gently hushed her.

“Let her clear her mind.” Neytiri uttered.

You wandered along the sandy shore of a nearby beach, tail lashing in fury and kicking up sand as your frustration bubbled up. You raked a hand through your long hair, the village lights getting fainter the further you walked. You picked up a rock, angrily hurling it into the cold ocean.

“Great, now you’re destroying our beaches. That was a sacred rock, you know.” Aonung’s presence behind you only made things worse.

You glared at him. “Cut the bullshit.” You kicked up a flurry of sand at him.

“I’m not joking. Maybe if you retrieve the rock, my parents will call off the deal.” Aonung watched in amusement as you actually slipped into the water, disappearing below the surface. You returned a moment later, the wet rock in your hand. Beads of water trickled down your exposed skin and your hair stuck uncomfortably to your face.

“Here.” You dropped the rock on his foot, grinning as he jumped.

“Ow! That hurt!”

“I know. It was supposed to.”

Aonung let out an exasperated sigh. He crossed his arms over his chest, his usual sign of annoyance. “You aren’t special, you know.” He muttered. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his words. His biting remarks meant nothing to you.

“Oh, what a shocking revelation. How did you come to such a conclusion?”

Confusion clouded Aonung’s face before he shook his head. “And you speak weirdly.”

“No. You’re just dumb.”

Aonung clicked his tongue. “I’m trying to be nice and you’re dropping rocks on me.”

“If that was you being nice, I’ll pass.”

The constant bickering reminded Aonung that no matter how hard the both of you tried, you just couldn’t see eye to eye.

There was a moment of silence. Aonung slowly shifted to stand beside you, keeping a respectable distance but close enough to see you out of the corner of his eye.

You were pretty, especially in the moonlight. The moon bathed your face in a soft glow, your freckles shining like the constellations spread out across the starry sky. Aonung’s gaze subtly travelled to the sharp curve of your jaw and the way your head was proudly tilted. Your long braids swayed in the gentle breeze.

Aonung glanced up at the dark sky, eyes trailing over the glittering stars before flickering back to your face. And yet, no star shone as brightly as the freckles dotting your cheeks.

Your beauty was infuriating. How could someone so alluring be so argumentative?

Realising he had been staring for far too long, Aonung quickly refocused on gaze on the sand below.

“You were staring.” You flatly said, ears tilting in amusement.

Aonung merely scoffed in reply, crossing his arms defensively. “In your dreams.”

The sound of the waves softly crashing against the shore was comforting as you slowly kneeled down. The usual harshness in your doe eyes was replaced with something gentle as you became suddenly enamoured by the seashells at your feet.

“How do you feel about the arrangement?” Aonung joined you on the ground with a heavy sigh. He leaned back, his arms supporting him, and stretched out his legs. You peered through your lashes, staring at him, before softly scoffing.

“Bullshit.” You whispered. “You should already have a mate by now. Why do you not?”

Aonung shrugged. “I don’t want anyone here. None of the girls appeal to me. They will simply love me to elevate their status.”

“You’re getting serious. Using big words.” For the first time in history, you smiled at Aonung. It was barely visible, the corners of your mouth barely twitched, but he saw it.

“I want someone who likes me for me. Who doesn’t care about my status.” Aonung’s hand sifted through the grains of sand before he glanced over to see what you were doing. He was taken aback when he locked eyes with you. You were still staring at him while fiddling with an intricate shell.

“How cute.” You replied. Aonung watched as you stood up, brushing the sand off your skin. “I must go now. My family will be wondering where I am.”

You didn’t bother saying good-bye to Aonung. The words would have felt bitter in your mouth. Aonung let you leave. He picked up the shell you had left behind, twirling it around in his hands.

The truce between you and Aonung didn’t last long. By the next day, you were back to your usual routine; arguing nonstop until one of you surrendered.

It was the afternoon when you were finally free of Aonung. You watched Ronal as she worked, occasionally pausing to explain steps to you. An important job of being Tsahik was healing and since Neteyam was always the first in line, you had never bothered to learn. You were second in line and confident you would not have to take over for Neteyam. You were organising herb leaves when Aonung stepped into the hut, a shallow jagged cut running across his shoulder. You halted your actions.

“Y/N.” Ronal beckoned you over with a simple call of your name. She instructed you to hold Aonung’s shoulder down but the moment your cold hands brushed against his skin, he hissed.

“I don’t want her touching me!” Aonung exclaimed, pushing your hands away.

“You two will be doing a lot more than touching when you are mated.” Ronal huffed, lightly slapping her son for his petty behaviour.

Aonung turned to give Ronal a horrified stare. “Mother!” He shouted. “You know I would never do such actions with a tree hugger!”

You loudly clicked his tongue, delivering a sharp jab to his cut. He yelped in pain. “Jerk.” You grumbled.

“Spoiled brat.” Aonung quickly replied.

You opened your mouth to retort but you were quickly silenced by Ronal. “Enough!” The Tsahik exclaimed, glaring at the both of you. “I do not care how you two get along but the fate of this clan is in your hands. Do not disappoint me.”

“She’s not even Metkayina.” Aonung mumbled, huffing. He winced as Ronal disinfected the cut on his shoulder.

“Metkayina or not, it has been decided. You will accept it.” She sent a firm look your way, “Both of you.” She quickly wrapped Aonung’s wound. “You are dismissed.” She said, turning to you. “Aonung, spend time with her. I do not need your petty rivalry getting in the way.”

Aonung frowned but he didn’t not have the courage to defy his mother. He quickly grabbed your wrist, pulling you out of the healing hut. “Where do you wanna go?” He muttered, uninterested.

You kicked his shin. “I don’t know. You’re the one dragging me.” Aonung didn’t reply. He simply tugged you towards whatever destination he had chosen in his mind and you merely followed him. “I’m really hoping you’re not a serial killer now.” You voiced as you followed him through the thick vegetation.

“I would have killed you first if I was.”

You rolled your eyes at his response but you couldn’t muffle your small laugh. At least he got your sense of humor. Aonung’s ears twitched at the sound of your light giggle, suddenly wishing he had heard it sooner. Maybe he would have stopped targeting you if he knew your laugh was so pretty.

He pushed past the last leaf to reveal an area of the beach you had never seen. You tilted your head, intrigued by the warm sand and the light of the sun reflecting off the clear water. Aonung finally let go of your wrist but you found yourself missing his touch more than you despised it. You pushed the thought to the back of your mind.

“I’ve never seen this area before.” You uttered, stepping forward. There were more seashells littering the ground and you eagerly crouched to glance at them. Aonung pretended not to pay you much attention as he stepped into the water, letting the ocean lap as his warm skin. He watched you from the corner of his eye as you grinned down at the shell you were holding.

“You like shells?” Aonung questioned, wondering why such a thing could make you look so happy. You lifted your head, nodding. You had never seen such things in the forest. It was all leaves, trees, and dirt. The sea shells were a delicate difference.

“I used to like acorns.” You said, showing Aonung a necklace that had a large acorn nut hanging over your chest. Aonung’s lips pulled into a thin line as he bit back a bitter comment.

“Strange.” Was all he said before turning his head. Your interest in acorns and shells was… odd, yet it was also a little cute to see your eyes sparkle over such simple trinkets. Aonung stiffened at his thoughts, quickly shaking his head to get rid of them. He looked back a moment later to find you gone.

He assumed you must have run off when he wasn’t paying attention but he felt something grasp his ankle. He didn’t have time to react before he was pulled down. When he swiftly resurfaced, he heard your quiet snickers.

“That was not very nice.” He groaned, taking a hand through his now wet hair. You merely shrugged, showing that you didn’t regret it one bit.

“Payback for the time you dragged me around with your ilu.”

Ah, Aonung had forgotten about that.

You lay on your stomach in the shallow water, body pressed up against the sand. The water engulfed you while your head perched above the surface, perfectly dry now.

As Aonung attempted to wring the water out of his hair, his gaze suddenly flickered to your face. He found himself noticing things he hadn’t before, like how the four most obvious freckles on the side of your face formed a square and the way a few strands of curled hair framed your face. He felt his breath hitch and he subconsciously took a step back.

“Ew, were you checking me out?” Of course, you had to ruin the moment with a loud scoff.

“As if.” Aonung growled, kicking droplets of water your way. In response, you grabbed a handful of wet sand, flinging it at his chest. You mockingly poked out your tongue at him, a gesture he had seen Kiri do often. Ah, so she got it from you.

“You’re making it very hard to be nice.” Aonung hissed. You almost laughed. Him? Being nice? The word nice wasn’t in his vocabulary.

“If that’s you being nice, I’d hate to see what mean looks like.” You teased. Aonung angrily huffed.

“The deal between our families isn’t off.” He grumbled, “So, we’re stuck together. You could at least try!”

“Hm. That’s the smartest thing you’ve said all day.”

Aonung dunked your face into the water as retaliation. You gasped, spitting out a mouthful of water. “Jerk!” You screamed at him.

“See! You aren’t even trying to be nice!”

“That’s because you shoved my head into the water, dumbass!”

Aonung sat himself beside you, a little too close for comfort. “Personally, I don’t want to be stuck with an angry mate.” His gaze raked over you. “My mother said compliments always work. So, uh… I like your hair?” His statement came out as more of a question. You stared at him, unimpressed. You quietly sighed.

“Fine.” You groaned. Your eyes flickered to him, searching for something to compliment him on. “I… um…” You clicked your tongue before pressing your lips into a thin line. Finally, you spoke up again. “I like your eyes.” You choked out.

“What do you like about my eyes?”

“That’s not fair. You didn’t describe why you like my hair.”

“I like it because it’s bouncy and no matter what you do with it, it’s always styled perfectly.”

You suppressed the urge to snarl at him. “Your eyes are blue.” You muttered, “I like blue. They are… different from the yellow eyes the Omatikaya possess. The blue matches the ocean and I like the ocean.”

You saw Aonung’s lips curve into a teasing smile. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

“I feel like I’m going to be sick.”

You returned to your family pod tired. Trying to see eye to eye with Aonung was far more exhausting than anyone let on. It wasn’t only your personalities that clashed. He seemed to hate everything you loved.

You liked seashells. He did not.

You liked heights. He did not.

You liked a specific type of fruit. He despised it.

You were ready to collapse on your mattress but you halted when you saw your parents packing your things. “Uh… what’s going on?” Your asked, tail lashing. Neytiri simply smiled at you.

“I know this sudden… arrangement is hard on you, daughter. Kiri has offered to stay the night with you in a separate pod so you can gather your thoughts.” Your bag was shoved into your arms. You narrowed your eyes, a little suspicious, but you were too tired to argue.

“Okay.” You slowly said. “As long as I have somewhere to sleep, I don’t care.”

“It’s the one at the end of the village. Hurry now.” Neytiri quickly ushered you away. You sighed, lugging yourself towards the pod that sat a little isolated from the rest of the village.

“Kiri, I don’t see how this is supposed to help.” You groaned as you walked in, hearing loud rustling. Kiri must have arrived before you. But your gaze landed on someone who was definitely not Kiri.

“You’re not Tsireya.” Aonung sneered.

“And you’re not Kiri. What the fuck did you do this time?” You hissed.

“Tsireya told me she wanted a sleepover… I had to agree because I owed her a favor.”

“My mother told me Kiri would be sharing the pod with me.”

Suddenly, it clicked. The two of you had been tricked by your own family. You were thinking of storming back into the village but your mother wouldn’t be very pleased. You were already on thin ice for punching a Metkayina boy last week.

Begrudgingly, you dropped your heavy bag. “It’s only one night with you.” You muttered but it was more to reassure yourself. You looked at the only bed in the middle of the claustrophobic room. “I call dibs on the bed.” You jumped on it before Aonung could retort.

“Well, I’m not sleeping on the floor.” He tried to push you off but you stood your ground.

“Neither am I.” You seethed. You glared at each other before Aonung scoffed. You grabbed a pillow, dividing the already small bed into two smaller sections. “You stay on your side and I’ll stay on mine.”

“Fine by me. As if I’d willingly want to be close to you.” He rolled his eyes in that infuriating way he always did when he thought he had the upper hand.

You shot him a scathing look before slipping under the covers, lingering on the far edge of the mattress as though it might save you from the awkward proximity. Aonung climbed in on the opposite side, keeping as much distance as possible. It was already night, the moonlight shining through the cracks of the fabric covering the entrance. You and Aonung fell into an uncomfortable silence, broken only by the sound of the ocean waves gently lapping against the shore outside.

You closed your eyes, ignoring the growing tension. You fell into a peaceful slumber, your chest slowly rising up and down as your dreams were filled with the familiar sight of the forest.

The next time you opened your tired eyes, it was morning. You slowly blinked before noticing a warmth around you. You shifted, the feeling of something firm against your forehead. You froze, almost letting out a shrill scream. You were pressed against Aonung as he gently rocked you, still fast asleep. His arm was draped over your waist, keeping you close, while his tail wrapped itself securely around your leg.

You attempted to wriggle free to avoid an awkward conversation when he awoke but his arm pulled you closer. “I’m not a teddy bear, you buffering buffoon!” You slapped his shoulder. He stirred, eyelids slowly fluttering open. The first thing he saw was your angry face. His grasp on you loosened yet he didn’t immediately withdraw like you expected.

“I told you to stay on your side!” You exclaimed, punching his chest. The hit did nothing to harm him. If anything, it only amused him.

“I did!” He fired back, “You’re the one who turned around and attached yourself onto me!”

“I did not!”

“Did so!”

Accusations flew from both of your mouths and yet you were still pressed closely against each other. “Ugh! Get away from me!” You finally pushed him away, rolling to climb out of the bed. But you miscalculated and you ended up falling to the floor with a loud bang. Aonung was immediately at your side, not wanting to be responsible for your possible concussion.

He helped you up, which was the most gentle he had ever been. For once, his tight grip didn’t cause an aching bruise.

“I’m fine.” You snapped at him as he pressed something cool against your throbbing forehead.

“Stop being so stubborn.” Aonung forced you to sit down, noticing how you couldn’t stand without swaying. He left the pod without a word. You assumed he was fed up with your attitude. You didn’t expect him to return two minutes later while you tended to your headache, medicine in one of his hands and a beautiful shell in another.

“I, uh, found this.” He grumbled, holding the shell out for you. “It reminded me of you.” It was a pastel blue with speckles of yellow painting it. You stared down at it, studying the shell’s shape.

Aonung cleared his throat, his cheeks suddenly feeling hot. You saw how his face flushed with color as he almost nervously fidgeted with his hands. “Do you… like it?” He asked, “Because I can take it back if you hate it. I don’t really care. I knew you’d hate it anyway.” He reached out to take the shell back but you instinctively pulled it away.

“No… I like it.” You whispered, growing protective over the shell.

Your gaze drifted down from Aonung’s bright blue eyes to his necklace, a piece of jewellery with intricately woven string that held a tooth in the middle. He was… relatively good-looking. His arm band, adorned with shells, was wrapped tightly around his bicep. Aonung had a sort of rugged beauty to him, shaped by the relentless ocean and the harsh tidal waves.

“Are you checking me out?” Aonung used your own words from yesterday against you. You merely huffed, a mix of amusement and frustration swirling inside of you.

“As if.” But your words came out quiet. You glanced down at the shell once more, trailing a finger over it in curiosity.

Perhaps Aonung wasn’t so bad after all. If you managed to look past his aggravating and obnoxious tendencies, he wasn’t exactly the worst person you could be stuck with.

965 notes · View notes

prythianpages · 28 days ago

Text

If Only | Eris x Reader

Eris x Reader ft Azriel | Azriel is there to comfort you after winnowing you both from Day Court.

a/n: This is pt 9 & takes place right after you asked Azriel to take you away, approx 3.3K words. Also, I have no idea how maternity care goes in Prythian, given we got little insight with Feyre so I'm just going with whatever I can think of lol. This is kind of a bit of filler part but we do get a little gender reveal in this <3

warnings: angst, reader is pregnant/ hidden pregnancy trope, reader has a panic attack

Behind you, you heard the sound of Eris breaking.

Not aloud. Not with screams or fists or flame.

But you felt it through the bond.

The wind kissed your cheeks as Azriel’s shadows dispersed, having winnowed you away from the room you stood in. You landed in a clearing somewhere deep in a forest. The canopy of the trees above swayed and you could hear the faint sounds of insects chirping and buzzing.

It sounded peaceful…and you were anything but.

Azriel released you slowly, his arms hesitant. They remained extended around you, in case you stumbled. He was speaking but you couldn’t make sense of his words, your arms wrapping around your stomach. Your body curled in on itself as if you could hide from the emotions screaming through the bond.

Desperation, longing, regret.

All his.

It felt like a dam had opened inside of you, Eris’s emotions and pain crashing through to you in intense waves. You felt like you couldn’t breathe.

Azriel’s shadows danced around you, swirling anxiously like they wanted to help but didn’t know how. He rubbed the back of his neck, his face twisted with guilt. He could only blame himself for your current state. He had been the one to let your secret slip.

A single shadow brushed against your arms. It grounded you back to the present, making you straighten up and look at Azriel.

“I’m sorry,” you heard him say through the pounding in your ears. “I didn’t know he didn’t… I assumed, I never would've—”

You shook your head, biting your lip. That was the least of your worries. Yes, you were upset Azriel had told Eris. You weren’t planning on telling Eris, you didn’t know how. But maybe, deep down, part of you wondered if Eris finding out had been inevitable. Maybe even necessary. And if that was true, maybe there was some small silver lining to be found in it all.

You were so confused. You wanted to cry. You didn’t know what to think, what to feel.

You had wanted Eris to find you. You’d imagined him coming, falling to his knees, begging for you back. And when he finally did, amber eyes burning with torment, you hesitated.

Why?

You loved Eris–still love him. But…no matter how much you loved him, love alone didn’t erase what he had done. You were hurt, left aching and angry. His rejection had hollowed something out in you.

Did he want you? Or was it the bond? Was it the child?

You’d heard the stories—how mating bonds could make males possessive, even obsessive. Some believed the magic behind them was tied to legacy and bloodlines, to the power of offspring.

Was that what brought him back?

A wave of nausea rose in your throat.

Or worse—what if he meant it? What if he truly loved you, and you had just walked away from the only chance you had at a family? At mending what had broken?

You had been prepared to do this alone, facing every single fear and pushing forward on your own. But preparing to face motherhood alone was different from actually doing it.

And you didn’t want to do this alone.

Eris’s emotions were raw and unguarded, still pouring through the bound and flooding your senses. They bled into your own until you couldn’t tell where his began and yours ended. It was too much.

The tears finally came down.

Your knees buckled and Azriel caught you in an instant. The moment his arms wrapped around you, you let yourself fall apart. Your hands were balled into fists against his chest, face buried into his leathers as your body shook with the sobs you had held back for too long.

Everything spilled out. You cried for the love you felt, for the pain, for the fear of raising a child in the middle of a storm you hadn’t meant to start. You cried for the past you couldn’t return to and the future that now felt like a cliff’s edge…

“Take me back,” you were suddenly whispering. “Az, take me back.”

But there was no confidence or certainty in your tone. Even Azriel could pick up on it.

“Y/n.” His voice was low, grounding. His hands came to your face, lifting it gently. Thumbs swept away the tears streaking down your cheeks. “Breathe,” he instructed softly.

Your chest tightened, the air caught in your lungs as panic rose again. “What if I made the wrong choice?” you gasped, your eyes wide, your pulse frantic beneath your skin.

Azriel’s heart twisted with guilt and sympathy. “Hey,” he murmured, bringing you back to him. “Nothing is final. Just breathe with me.”

His eyes met yours, urging you to focus as he inhaled slowly. You followed his lead, the two of you exhaling together. One breath. Then another.

“Don’t make any rash decisions now,” he continued, his voice calm in an attempt to soothe you further. “You’re safe. Your baby is safe. If you want to return to him after, I’ll take you to him myself. But for now, keep breathing with me, okay?”

Azriel was right. The bond between you and Eris was loud and confusing. And you didn’t trust your own thoughts when they weren’t fully yours. All you knew for certain was that the child growing inside you didn’t deserve to be born into chaos. It needed some clarity, some stability.

“I don’t want to do this alone,” you said, voice trembling.

Azriel’s hand moved to cradle the back of your head, gently bringing your forehead to rest against his shoulder. “You don’t have to.”

You wanted to believe him. By the Cauldron, you wanted to. But anxiety rose again like a wave, cresting too fast. “I don’t have anywhere to go…”

You thought you’d had more time to plan. You hadn’t expected for Eris to turn up so suddenly. All the money you’d been saving from selling your jewelry, your belongings…it was all still in Day. You had nothing with you now.

“I know a place you can stay.”

Your feet touched the ground and though it was more comfortable winnowing with Azriel’s shadows, it still left you a bit disoriented. Some of his shadows stayed with you, soothing you gently. You blinked your vision clear, finding yourself standing in front of tall, iron gates.

Azriel touched the handle and after a moment, the gates opened on their own. He turned to you, motioning for you to go first. As you walked past the gates of the estate, you were immediately hit with the sweet scent of roses. Beautiful blue roses were in full bloom, their petals catching glimmers of the fading twilight.

The house beyond the blooms was quaint and modest in size, despite the amount of land surrounding it. You didn’t know who the house belonged to, having trusted Azriel completely. But you could tell whoever lived here built this home with love.

A low meow pulled your attention to the side. A small black kitten darted from behind a bush and rubbed against Azriel’s leg, its bright eyes blinking up in slow adoration at him. He chuckled softly and crouched to greet it. Shadows slipped from his shoulders and gently patted the kitten’s head, coaxing it into a playful chase.

When you looked back up, you noticed more cats lounging in the garden, their curious eyes blinking back at you. The door to the house opened before you could reach it.

A tall woman stepped onto the porch, her wings smaller but unmistakably Illyrian. She was strikingly beautiful. Long, dark hair fell in soft waves down her back, and those familiar hazel eyes were framed by a face that mirrored Azriel’s. They had to be related and you could only assume this was his mother.

Her gaze found the male beside you, her face brightening.

“My son,” she breathed, confirming your thoughts. She rushed down the steps and wrapped him in a tight, fierce hug.

You watched as he melted into her embrace. Since you’d known him, you’d never seen him look so at peace. His shoulders dropped, and his arms wrapped tightly around her in return. It brought tears to your eyes—tears you quickly looked away from.

Here I go crying again, you thought. You hoped your child would look at you the way Azriel looked at his mother.

When she pulled back, she gave Azriel a lingering, affectionate pat on the arm before turning toward you. Her smile was still warm but a little curious now.

“Hello, I’m Rosanna,” she greeted, extending her hand. “You must be Morrigan.”

You felt Azriel tense beside you. You offered a small, polite smile, even as your cheeks heated. “Um, no.”

“Oh!” Rosanna blinked, then laughed, waving a hand. “Sorry, sorry. Elain, then?”

“Also no,” you said, shaking her hand. “I’m Y/n.”

There was a flicker of something in her expression. Not judgment, just… interest and a mild surprise. And then she was smiling again, genuinely. Her other hand came to rest on top of yours, enveloping it in its warmth.

“Y/n,” she repeated, as if tasting the name. “It’s lovely to meet you. Forgive me. Azriel’s never brought a girl here before but I’ve heard of plenty–”

“Mother,” Azriel said, interrupting her with a slight wince. “Can I talk to you in private?”

Rosanna nodded and beckoned you both inside. You followed hesitantly, your fingers twitching at your sides. You felt awkward and out of place all of a sudden. And somehow, they both sensed it—Rosanna, who gave you a reassuring nod, and Azriel, whose shadows gently nudged the small of your back.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Rosanna said kindly. “Would you like tea? Or warm milk?”

“I’m okay,” you murmured and after more reassuring, they disappeared into the kitchen.

The inside of the house was as lovely as the garden that surrounded it. The furniture didn’t exactly match yet it went well together. A soft, knitted blanket was draped over the back of the couch, and a few well-loved books sat stacked beside a reading chair.

Your eyes caught on a framed painting above the fireplace.

It was unmistakably the work of a child. Two stick figures with wings—one tall with long hair, holding the hand of a smaller one. Wisps of black trailed from the smaller figure’s wings. In blue paint, scrawled beneath them: I love you mom.

Your heart clenched, mouth forming a silent “awe.” You turned away before you could cry again and sank onto the couch. A couple of minutes passed as you sat there, watching the shadows lengthen across the walls, before Azriel returned.

“So,” you said, rising to your feet. “You must have a lot of girls, huh?”

“She was exaggerating,” Azriel replied with a casual shrug but his ears flushed slightly.

You found it too amusing to let it go. “Sure she was,” you said, dragging out the words with a small smile. “Most males don't have a lineup long enough to confuse their own mother. Sounds like player behavior…”

Azriel’s shadows danced around his shoulders in a teasing manner, almost like they were agreeing along with you. He gave them an accusing glance, swatting at them. “I’m not,” he said with a small huff.

“Well, player or not, I hope your love life is faring much better than mine,” you said.

Azriel was quiet for a beat too long.

“It’s not,” he then admitted.

“Oh,” your smile immediately dropped, taken off guard. “Sorry, I didn’t mean–”

“It’s alright,” he said quickly, gaze dropping. “I do get a bit of female attention but...I have a habit of falling for the ones I can’t have.”

You looked at him then, really looked at him. His shadows curled around him like they were trying to comfort him, so different to the way they had been moving earlier. You had no idea you were both hurting in different ways and suddenly you felt bad.

Azriel has been such a good friend to you–your only friend, actually. And now you felt like you had neglected your end of the friendship that been brewing between you, too caught up in your heartache to notice his.

Before you could say something meaningful—or worse, sappy—you heard Rosanna’s voice call from the kitchen.

“Come on, you two! There's some tea and also sweet bread…I heard it pairs well with troubled hearts!”

You and Azriel blinked at each other, the same small, understanding smile tugging at both your lips. “She’s not wrong,” he murmured. “Her bread does make one feel better.”

Azriel had excused himself after finishing the entirety of his mother's sweet bread, earning a small scolding from her for not leaving any leftovers for tomorrow's breakfast.

That’s when you found out he didn’t live here with his mother but in another city within the Night Court. He would return in a couple of days with a healer to properly assess you. Before leaving, he had also assured you that no magic could trace you back to this place. Wards had been layered here by his High Lord himself, all to protect his mother—and now, you.

Rosanna had been nothing but kind and welcoming, but after learning this was her sanctuary, that intruding feeling crept back in. You were a pregnant stranger with a confused heart and a million fears. Of course, she had assured you that she didn’t mind, adding in that she longed for some company.

The days of waiting for Azriel to return passed slowly. You kept to yourself at first, making yourself as inconspicuous as possible in Rosanna’s space. You took to speaking only when spoken to, offering polite smiles and helping with small tasks around the estate.

Rosanna didn’t seem to mind your silence. In fact, she had a way of making space for you without demanding anything in return. She had a few quirks that reminded you of Azriel. You found it endearing and her warmth infectious.

Then, just as promised, Azriel returned with a healer, a female with warm eyes and silver streaks in her hair.

The moment you saw her, panic and worry stirred in your chest. You hadn’t had a single official check-up. You didn’t even know how far along you were. And there had been so many sleepless nights, clutched around the ache in your chest, thinking of what you had lost and everything you were now responsible for.

What if your sadness had soaked into the child? What if your heartache had done something wrong?

“Y/n, this is Madja.” Azriel said as he approached where you sat on the bed. “She’s the best there is. She’s brought me back from the brink of death more times than I’d like to admit.”

Madja arched a brow and gave Azriel a dry look. “And yet somehow, he still insists on throwing himself into danger like it’s a paid hobby.”

“Because it kind of is.” Azriel replied with some humor in his hazel eyes. “Perks of being the Night Court’s spymaster and all.”

“Perks,” Rosanna said with a huff, both her and Madja fixing him with identical unimpressed stares. Even his shadows paused mid-drift, their inky tendrils hovering above him in silent judgment. If your nerves weren’t on edge, you might’ve laughed at the scene before you.

Then, Madja turned to you with a small smile. “May I?” She asked, motioning to the space next to your bed.

You nodded, unsure if your voice would work even if you tried. Azriel and Rosanna took the cue to excuse themselves, slipping quietly out of the room to give you privacy.

Madja sat next to you, her movements steady and practiced. She pulled out some ointment from her worn leather bag before settling it down on the floor. She gave you a kind look, the kind only time and experience could carve into a healer’s face.

“You’ll feel some pressure,” she said as she applied a bit of the glowing salve to her hand. “But it shouldn’t hurt.”

You forced a breath into your lungs. “Okay,” you managed, your voice barely a whisper. You couldn’t tell if your heart was pounding from fear or excitement or something in between.

Madja motioned for you to sit back and you followed her instructions, lifting your gown up to expose your stomach to her. She placed a firm hand on your stomach and you could feel her magic pulse beneath her fingertips, a warm sensation spreading over you.

There was a beat of silence. Then another.

Then—movement.

Your breath caught in your throat. You had felt your baby move before but not like this. This felt stronger than the usual, delicate flutter you’d feel every now and then.

“There,” Madja said softly. “Did you feel that?”

You nodded again, stunned. The life inside of you, moving eagerly beneath Madja’s touch. Your baby was very much alive and growing. Maybe, just maybe, despite all your sadness, your baby was okay.

But then Madja’s expression shifted. Her brows furrowed faintly and your heart skipped a beat. “What is it?” you asked, fearing the worst.

Madja didn’t answer at first. She was still, palm still flat to your belly. Her gaze was distant as if she was sensing something. She exhaled slowly, her eyes lifting to meet yours.

“The babe has fire in their blood.”

“What…," you struggled with the right words, too many worrying thoughts clouding your mind. "What does that mean?”

“It’s not a bad thing,” she said carefully. “But to feel that kind of magic pulsing through this early…” Her voice trailed off as her eyes moved over you again, her gaze calculating. “It means the baby will be strong and gifted. Like the—”

Madja stopped herself, sensing your growing unease.

But she didn’t need to finish. Like the father, she was going to say. Like–like Eris.

Madja hadn’t known but she knew it was not you who was able to wield fire. There was no reason to tell her about the father. Or at least, you didn’t think there’d be. You could see it click into place for her, who the father must be, for the child to radiate that kind of power. Her eyes lingered on yours with a silent understanding.

“As for your progress,” she continued, shifting her tone to something lighter, more clinical, though the wary look hadn’t left her eyes, “you’re nearly at the halfway mark.”

Your thoughts reeled, scrambling for the math. Your heart plummeted as your suspicions were confirmed. It was that night. The night Eris broke your heart. The night he pushed you away and you’d been too distraught to remember the tonic the following morning.

You swallowed hard, the ache pressing behind your eyes.

“But the baby is okay, right?”

“Oh, yes.” Madja’s nod was immediate, certain enough to ease some of the weight off your chest. She pressed her hand a little more, and your baby stirred again in response. A soft, gentle smile curved her lips. “Would you like to know the gender?”

“Yes,” you breathed.

“It’s a girl.”

“A girl,” you echoed in wonder, tears pricking your eyes.

You were having a girl. A daughter.

You could already imagine her, soft and perfect, curled in your arms. You felt yourself smile, even as tears slipped free. The words lit something in your chest. Something so tender and bright. You hadn’t realized how much you needed this–this moment of peace and hope.

You were so overwhelmed with emotion that you hadn’t realized you’d sent them down through the bond until you felt a response. A tug. Eris. You felt the flicker of his confusion, maybe even concern.

Your chest tightened, your hand resting protectively over your stomach. Would he be as happy as you were, knowing the life you carried inside was a daughter?

a/n: I debated on waiting on revealing the gender until reader gave birth but decided why wait? Eris, however, can wait a little longer to know. How do we think he'd react to a daughter?

I dropped some hints for the next part 👀

Also, I am just as bad as SJM with names, so I figured Az's mom name should be related to Rose, considering she lives in Rosehall. Hope you enjoyed me including Az & his mom being cat lovers ❤️

series taglist: @kodafics , @shinyghosteclipse, @marrass, @posierosie, @solanaaaaaaa

@tele86, @bubybubsters, @k-homosapien, @mariaxliliana, @kathren1sky-blog

@anainkandpaper, @icey--stars, @moonlovefairy, @hellohauntedturnstudent, @lucia-valentinaa,

@wrenisrad, @smol-grandpa, @sleepylunarwolf, @63angel, @anuttellaa

@anon1227 @paleidiot @thatacotargirl, @queenoffeysand , @slut4acotar @awkardnerd

@blueroseava , @lovetia , @historygeekqueen , @idk1027 ,@naturakaashi

@blightyblinders , @wolvesnravens , @galaxystern08 , @faeofthemoonandstars , @antisocial-architect

@elisha-chloe, @cwallace02sblog, @randomramblesfanfiction, @moonlitlavenders, @booksnwriting

@sunny1616, @holb32, @gamarancianne, @daemyratwst, @ratgirl2020 @balufy

#eris x reader #eris x you #eris x y/n #eris fanfiction #eris vanserra x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar angst #eris angst #the mark eris left behind

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airybcby · 1 month ago

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I LOVE YOUR WORKS SO MUCH UGH. anywaysss, reo heavy HEAVY angst pls. idk, he just seems like the kind of guy who fits in angst fics SOOO muchh😭 that's actually all, thank youuuuuuuuuy

you know just the way to my heart ;)

જ⁀♡⊹｡° don't get sentimental

( reo mikage x fem! reader )

♡ a/n — reo AND angst? my loves.

♡ word count — 1.3k

♡ content — reo mikage x fem! reader (could be gn! but i wrote abt a wedding dress and kids so), arranged marriage (can you tell i love this trope?), angst, dream scene (once), set when reo and reader are like 26-28ish, childhood friends, unrequited love, pining, not proofread!

♡ synopsis — Reo always wonders that if he stayed in the perfectly crafted cage his parents made for him...would life be different?

── .✦ one day i am gonna grow wings

You and Reo met when you were three years old.

Not in the tender, fated way that fairy tales romanticize — but at a merger dinner between two families with too much money and not enough heart.

Reo doesn’t remember it, not clearly. He was a blur of bowties and sugared-up nerves. But you remember.

You always do.

You’d tell him about it later — how you cried when he took your toy car, and how he gave it back, with a crayon drawing of you both holding hands. The lines were shaky, the sun too big, your hair the wrong color.

You kept it anyway.

From that point on, there was no separating your lives.

Birthday parties, family vacations, etiquette classes, weekends filled with obligation masked as bonding.

You were the only kid he could tolerate in that world. The only one who didn’t flinch when he got too intense. The only one who didn’t care about the Mikage name.

Your parents always said it like a joke.

“They’ll end up married, just wait and see.”

A little prophecy dressed up as humor. Something you could both roll your eyes at… until it stopped sounding ridiculous.

“You know they’re going to make us get married, right?”

You were sixteen. Reo remembers that day better than most.

The rooftop of a rented summer estate, the orange wash of sunset casting long shadows across your face.

You both had ditched a charity ball downstairs. The music floated faintly up through the walls.

Reo had laughed. “Could be worse.”

You had turned to him. “Yeah? How?”

“At least I like you.”

The quiet that followed wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable. Familiar. Something you’d both grown into, like an old sweater neither of you had the heart to throw away.

You were best friends. Always had been.

And maybe something more, though you never said it aloud.

Because what would’ve been the point?

Then Reo found soccer.

Not the kind played in private academies or manicured fields behind country clubs — but the kind that tore your knees open and made your chest burn.

The kind that made him feel alive for the first time in his life.

You supported him.

Of course you did.

No one else saw how he lit up when he played.

How he finally started speaking about something without apologizing for wanting it too much.

But your parents didn’t.

When Reo told them he wanted to go pro — that he didn’t want the family business or the predetermined life that came with it — the engagement that had always been quietly understood fell apart.

They ended it swiftly, like cutting off a loose thread.

And Reo let them.

He didn’t fight. He didn’t beg. He just walked away.

And somehow, that hurt worse than anything.

Still, he stayed in touch.

You both did.

Late night messages. Check-ins during tournaments. Birthday calls that grew shorter each year. The tether between you stretched, but it never snapped.

Until one day… it stopped being enough.

You were twenty-six when your parents arranged another marriage.

To someone suitable.

Someone who wouldn’t walk away from legacy.

Someone whose name paired well with yours on embossed invitations.

He wasn’t awful. Just… not Reo.

You told yourself that mattered.

That this was easier.

That you were happy.

The wedding is beautiful.

Of course it is. Everything your parents curate is.

The flowers are pristine.

The venue gleams.

Every single guest is dressed like they walked out of a glossy magazine spread.

Reo is seated near the back.

He tries not to draw attention — not an easy task when you're one of the most recognizable athletes in the country. But he doesn’t want to be seen.

Not today.

Not when he’s watching you walk down the aisle.

You look stunning. Almost unreal. Draped in expectations and silk.

Your face carries the kind of smile people wear when they know the camera’s on them.

The kind that says: I made peace with this. I chose this. It’s fine.

Reo watches every step like it’s in slow motion.

Watches the way your fingers tremble slightly around the bouquet.

The way your eyes flick, just once, toward the back of the room.

You see him.

And for a second, you hesitate.

Not enough for anyone else to notice — but Reo notices.

He always does.

And that’s what kills him.

You sit at the sweetheart table beside your new husband.

You barely talk.

People approach to congratulate you. Take photos. Compliment your dress.

As soon as they leave, the silence wraps itself around you like fog.

Your husband checks his watch. You glance toward the door.

You don't look unhappy.

But Reo sees it.

He sees the way your smile dims when no one's watching.

Sees how your posture relaxes only when you're alone.

Sees that the girl who once dreamed of freedom is still hiding beneath layers of compromise.

He tries to leave quietly, not sure how much more he could take.

But someone stops him, grabbing his shoulder.

“Reo Mikage? No way. My nephew’s obsessed with you—can I grab a photo?”

He obliges. Napkins, cocktail menus, a tie—he signs them all.

Another hand. Another flash of a camera. A compliment. A drink.

“You’ve done so well for yourself, son. You must be proud.”

“Your game last month—insane. That last-minute goal? Genius.”

“Tell me, are you seeing anyone?”

More laughter. More champagne. More people trying to own pieces of him.

All the wings he fought to grow suddenly feel clipped.

When he finally slips outside, it’s past midnight. The sky is ink-black, scattered with stars he doesn’t care to name.

He leans against the railing of the venue’s back patio, shoulders heavy.

A breeze picks up.

He thinks about the first time you kissed — unspoken, quiet, on a winter night when the world felt too big and too far away.

Thinks about the dreams you once shared — the tiny apartment you were going to decorate together. The dog you’d name after some ridiculous pun.

The freedom you were going to steal back, inch by inch.

And he wonders, not for the first time:

If he had just stayed in the cage they built for him…

Would he have you too?

That night, Reo dreams of a different life.

It’s warm. Familiar.

He wakes in a bed too soft to be his, sheets tangled around his legs. Sunlight filters through sheer curtains.

There’s the faint sound of a kettle, and then—

Your laugh.

He follows the sound down a hallway. Through a door. Into a kitchen he doesn’t remember ever living in, but feels like home.

You're standing by the counter, wearing his hoodie.

A child clings to your leg—small, babbling, messy-haired.

Another one is at the table, coloring furiously with a crayon held in their fist.

“Morning,” you say, smiling, like you’ve always said it that way.

You hand him a mug. It’s chipped. The design is worn.

He’s never seen it before, but he knows it’s his favorite.

He takes it, touches your wrist, kisses the top of your head.

Everything is soft. Simple. Sacred.

The child at the table holds up their drawing.

A shaky stick figure with purple hair. “It’s you, Daddy!”

He crouches down. Laughs. Feels his chest ache with a love too big to hold.

And then—

The sound of a whistle.

The roar of a stadium.

A voice calling his name like a siren from outside the dream.

He wakes up alone.

In a hotel room.

Dark.

Cold.

The air conditioner hums.

There’s no warmth.

No laughter.

No tiny hand tugging his sleeve.

Just his phone, lighting up with notifications.

A news article about last night’s wedding.

A tagged photo.

A message from a fan.

And the ache still in his chest, blooming like grief.

He presses the heel of his hand to his eyes.

He wonders what kind of cruel dream gives you a life and then takes it away before sunrise.

The kind you don’t forget.

The kind you never stop wanting.

if you were wondering, reo is my favorite character to write angst for :)

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

❀ tags: ❀ @kenyuukissme ❀ @irethepotato ❀ @kiyy0mei ❀ @x3nafix ❀ @sugacor3 ❀ @ohagiyoo ❀ @reigensuperstar ❀ @nevvynevnev ❀ join the taglist here !

#★ · airybcbyy #mikage reo x reader #reo mikage x reader #reo mikage #reo #bllk reo #blue lock reo #bllk reo mikage #blue lock reo mikage #airy posts #bllk #blue lock #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #reo x reader #airy answers asks :)

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s-awturn · 10 months ago

Text

Drivers and their romantic tropes || F1 Grid

cw: insults, rivalry, fighting, superficiality, suggestive behavior, almost obscene — if you squint your eyes — romance, age gap, cuteness, love and blah blah blah

starring: LH44, CS55, CL16, LN4, OP81, MV1

a/n: I've probably found a new addiction? Making headcanons is so much fun, I can feel the obsession with this format coming on. By the way, I'd love to hear your suggestions (it's just a tip,I'm not suggesting anything 🤭

LEWIS HAMILTON - Age Gap

Being Charles' younger cousin gave her some privileges like going to parties and the paddock whenever she wanted or meeting the drivers and other celebrities, and that's how you met Lewis. Of course you already knew who the Million Dollar Man was, but in person it was all better — and damn, he was so much better in person. The attraction between you was immediate and for a long time Lewis denied what he felt, You were much younger than him and you were still Charles' favorite cousin, meaning it was obvious that you were overprotected by the Monegasque. Which reduced any possibility of a relationship between you and the British pilot to zero.

However, there are no forces sufficient to prevent the universe from moving its strings in any way it wants, so it wasn't long before you and Lewis were making out in every free corner, be it the driver's lounge, the Ferrari motorhome or one of the secluded spots at the team parties. Eventually, the attraction between Lewis and you grew to the point where it became something strong and lasting, well, Charles' efforts to keep you away from Lewis were in vain.

You adored Lewis, you loved how he took care of you, how he made it clear that you were his priority, Lewis treated you like no other guy your age had ever treated you.

Lewis would never admit that he liked how much older he was than you, he loved the way you trusted his experience and maturity, allowing him to take care of you in the best way possible, because there is nothing he loves more than making sure his little girl is completely happy.

CARLOS SAINZ - Fake Dating

Carlos needed a fake girlfriend to calm the media and you needed a miracle to cover your student expenses, so the two of you ended up combining business with pleasure. The two of you made a deal, you just had to pretend in front of the media and friends — everyone had to believe the charade, even family members — you were supposed to accompany him on some races and root for him, post pictures together, and Carlos would pay for everything you needed until you graduated, which was, more or less, another semester and a half. And most importantly, feelings could not be involved.

With everything combined, what could go wrong, right? But of course, everything went wrong the exact moment you realized that Carlos was the perfect boyfriend material.

How could you not fall in love with the guy who opened doors for you? Or who would pick you up at the university gates with a rose? You were getting involved and this went against the agreement you and Carlos had established. You couldn't tell if Carlos also ended up developing feelings in the meantime, he was a difficult man to scrutinize, and it was easy for you to assume that it wasn't reciprocated and before your heart was broken, you broke the agreement, returned everything Carlos had given you — as part of your act — and the money.

What you didn't know is that Carlos was in the same situation as you and it wasn't at all pleasant for him to find a note from you and all the gifts he had given you. You left and left him with just a "sorry, I can't anymore"; and in a few weeks, you didn't know how, but Carlos found you at the guesthouse where you were staying.

And there, standing in the hallway of that modest boarding house where you were staying, Carlos confessed to you, shouting that you couldn't leave him without him trying to win you over. You laughed and kissed him, because the Spaniard didn't need to try, he had already done it.

CHARLES LECLERC - Marriage of Convenience

Your family and Charles' family had been friends for years — really many years — and it only took one drunken night for your father and his to make an agreement, they would unite their families in marriage.

Her marriage to Charles.

And it was all well and good, if you two hadn't hated each other since the first time you saw each other. God knew you tried to be nice to Charles, but he took immense pleasure in being nothing short of unpleasant to you; he loved to laugh at you, he picked on you for everything you did, he handed you over to your parents when you were up to no good, so it didn't take long for you to start hating the boy.

You exchanged barbs at every opportunity you had, you begged your father to break off the engagement, after all you didn't want to marry someone who openly hated you. However, with the sudden death of Charles' father, any chance of breaking off the engagement fell by the wayside, and you were doomed to a failed marriage from the start because you hated your fiancé and it was completely reciprocated.

You tried to propose a deal to Charles, that you two break the commitment, he was adamant, there would be a wedding. And you didn't understand, why did he want to marry you if he hated you? With this doubt, you tested Charles' patience until he confessed that there was never any real hatred, he provoked you because he thought it was the only way to make you notice him.

Taken by surprise, you didn't know how to react other than to move away from him. You were confused by that revelation, both with Charles and with your own feelings; however, there was no distance really, because Charles almost set up camp on your doorstep. It was his turn to annoy you and it was no different, you fought until you ended up kissing. Not once, not twice, but several times until you both admitted that it was never hate, in fact. You two were married in the middle of spring, in a chateau in France,

LANDO NORRIS - Strange to Lovers

It all started with a blind date gone wrong, Lando ended up getting the wrong table and this resulted in the two of you talking until the restaurant closed and you two were asked to leave the place, only then did you discover that he was not the guy you were dating. Not that you thought it was bad, Lando was great! He was funny, witty and kind, he made sure to drop you off at home and took your phone, so what if he got the wrong table? He even had an amazing date with a stunning girl, so in the end, nothing had really gone wrong.

After that meeting, you unfortunately didn't go out anymore because of your racing schedule, but you exchanged messages every day, it didn't matter what the subject was, it could be something about Formula One or the puppy video you sent him. Talking to Lando was easy, it didn't even seem like you met by chance, when you noticed, you had already been talking for almost nine weeks, you had two more dates. On your first date, Lando insisted on taking you to an art gallery that had recently opened in London, on your second date, you took him to karaoke.

When you really realized it, Lando was no longer a stranger, you had his clothes in your drawers and he kept his skin care products in his bathroom cabinet. You and Lando had a firm agreement, to always talk, never go to bed angry, and never hide anything—not that you could hide anything, since you were already so intertwined with each other that nothing could remain hidden between you anymore.

You attended his races, whenever you had free time, Lando would be attending your exhibitions. Honestly, that wrong meeting was the best thing that happened to both of you.

OSCAR PIASTRI - Friends to Lovers

Friends since childhood, they went through all the stages of each other's lives, Oscar had been in your life for so long that you couldn't even imagine what it would be like without him. You supported him when he decided to become a pilot, you watched every race you could and in return, Oscar was at all of his college presentations.

People always thought you were more than friends, but Oscar always gave a shy smile and reinforced that you were just friends, you don't know when or how, but at some point it started to bother you. And that didn't make sense, because you were really just friends.

There was no you without Oscar and there was no Oscar without you.

When he managed to move up to F1, you made sure to buy a box of orange fireworks to celebrate, so what if you were living on the East Coast of the United States? Oscar deserved the fireworks. He made sure to send you a beautiful bouquet of tulips — orange because that was your color all along — a huge breakfast, and a sweet note when you graduated from college.

Little by little, the obligations of adult life, the racing calendar and everything else began to take up all of your time and this decreased the frequency of conversations between you and Oscar. You didn't even notice that you weren't talking to your best friend as often anymore, you only realized that you hadn't spoken to each other in weeks when the news broke that he was dating.

You didn't understand why it hurt so much, maybe because he didn't tell you or because he was dating an old colleague of yours... Either way, it hurt to know that, but you sent him a message, wishing him well. You talked for a while, but it felt strange, something had changed between you.

But you didn't focus on that, Oscar was happy and you were happy for him, so you put the discomfort aside, the important thing was that your best friend was radiant. Your feelings weren't important.

Maybe the boiling point was Christmas, you returned to Australia to spend the holidays with family, completely forgetting that the Piastri were also part of the family, so there was Oscar. You expected to find his girlfriend there, but it was just Oscar, your Christmas present, and his signature shy smile. When you asked where his girlfriend was, Oscar said he didn't have a girlfriend, and when you wanted to know why, his answer was very succinct: she wasn't you.

Your heart raced like an eight cylinder engine when he kissed you and fuck, that was the best Christmas ever.

MAX VERSTAPPEN - Enemies to Lovers

You were Max Verstappen's new teammate at Red Bull and if love at first sight existed, you and Max created hate at first sight. You hated each other so much, both on and off the track. You found Max to be impulsive, disrespectful and arrogant, concluding, for you, Max was a total idiot.

In Max's eyes, you were stubborn, showy, and nosy, completely irritating. You fought over everything, from the current strategy to the can of energy drink, the journalists loved the fight between you, the team tried to pacify in the best way, but you and Max? All it took was a spark for you to start a fire.

Your fans speculated that there was much more behind all the hate.

You don't remember which race it was, but it was in the middle of a chicane where you and Max were racing for first place when your front wings collided, you don't even know who crashed into who, you just remember spinning on the track and hitting the barrier. Max continued the race and took the podium that Sunday. You were furious when you arrived at the pits, just like Michael Schumacher at the 1998 Belgian GP. You were shaking with anger, your engineer tried to calm you down, your manager, but no one could calm your fury.

That was the worst fight you two ever had, it was bad enough that you decided to cut off all communication with Max, you felt like a pawn in his hands, you really thought he had used you to win the race, and you couldn't even explain how frustrated that made you.

This made things very bad within Red Bull, you deliberately ignored Max, you didn't even respond to his provocations anymore, it was as if Verstappen didn't even exist. And it bothered Max more than he would like to admit, it was like an itch that wouldn't go away. You couldn't ignore him forever.

Max approached you in the hotel hallway, he forced you to listen to him. You had to drag him into your room before the other guests witnessed another fight between the Red Bull drivers. None of you knew when or how, but when you realized it, you were tangled up in your bed, uttering insults between groans and pleas; after that night something changed, the rivalry remained as strong as before, in fact even more so, because you were hungry for the title of world champion, and wouldn't let her future marriage to Max get in the way of that. After all, friends are friends, business is business.

gif credits: lewishamiltongifs, bjeanesthings, cielolercs, formulacuties, delulujuls and isolatingmyself.

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#f1 imagine #f1 #s awturn #lewis hamilton x reader #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #max verstappen x reader #f1 headcanons

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