#i really hope that they can find solace in each other after everything

[rejoiceinsilverlight]

thinking about super cousins post-season 2 and potential effects of being exposed to kryptonite so many times

[temis-de-leon]

When they don't know you as well as they thought they did

Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub and Belphegor (x reader, separately)

Main Masterlist

C/W: the boys are crushing on MC and it's implied MC is crushing as well, but there isn't any established relationship. Just friends feeling things for their friend, very common. Self-insert, perhaps?

A/N: this is just fluff, very silly, a little ooc maybe, but I'm not sure. I just wanted to make something fun and lighthearted after the recent news.

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No one is surprised anymore at the firmness the brothers speak with when they call you part of the family. Between the pacts and the unsolicited free therapy, it’s only fair, and only an idiot wouldn’t be able to see the affection running through the House of Lamentation.

Still, there are instances every once in a while where, although it’s difficult at the beginning, the boys have no other choice but to accept the fact that you have a completely different life back in the human world and they may not know you as good as they would like.

It starts with the small things; embarrassing conversations where their ignorance gets you to laugh like a maniac more than a couple of times. There they are, blushing in self-consciousness while you cackle uncontrollably because they believed some urban legend about a faceless suited man with freakishly long arms.

Then, slowly, but surely, it turns into more personal things about you, like your irrational, downright, phobia of lizards or the fictional characters you’re surprisingly attracted to.

(Some of those aren’t human, which makes them all feel a strong sense of hope, but you don’t need to know that).

The brothers learn about your studies, favourite subjects and what you’d like to do with your future, even if it sounds hopeless or unlikely. They also keep every bit of information about your friends and family; little comments that you let go here and there and help them understand why you are someone they love so much.

The whole situation evolves in such a way that inviting them to your birthday party in the human realm seems to be the obvious next step.

‘It’s so I can celebrate it with all my loved ones’ you say, and they really can’t deny your offer after that.

So, after a few awkward introductions and half-truths about their origin, everyone is happily talking to each other and eagerly waiting for their turn to be with you.

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Lucifer, who has had a special interest in your family for a while, finds himself chuckling in understanding when your mother complains about the occasional mess in your room. In your defence, he feels obligated to partially throw his brothers under the bus and blame them for keeping you in a constant state of disarray, but then she says something that… perplexes him.

You don’t like perfection? His eyes open wide at the revelation and your mother chuckles, misinterpreting his expression. She doesn’t know who he really is or what he represents, after all.

Just how vast is the veracity of that statement? Does it refer only to a state of mind or do you apply it to everything else?

Thankfully, he doesn’t have time to feel too anxious before he remembers the little details. When your triumphal smile shone in the dimness of his room that time he made a silly mistake in chess, ultimately granting you the win; or when the Anti-Lucifer League managed to leave his hair unkempt for an entire day, which got you to shamelessly look at him for longer than any of his younger brothers would’ve ever liked.

Not being perfect isn’t something he would ever do consciously and he had always found solace in the fact that you like him despite his mistakes. However, knowing you actually like him because of those mistakes? Perhaps letting those cracks show in his façade isn’t so bad as long as it is for you.

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Not far from him, Mammon chats with your human best friend. There’s an air of competitiveness between them, both wanting to be the ultimate best friend, but it all stays light-hearted. There’s no real threat when Mammon gets to be your first demon, you know? It’s a unique position!

But he still makes sure to assert dominance by stating he would’ve made the perfect party for you, better than the one you’re currently enjoying; with food and decorations from the Devildom and the Celestial realm included, matching outfits and, of course, keeping everything hidden so you can have the best surprise of your life. He had thrown a lot of those with Asmo’s help back home, so he knows you love them!

Or he thinks you do, at least.

Your friend sniggers harmlessly when they hear that last part, pointing at him with an infuriating smartass attitude, and immediately shatters Mammon’s reality.

What the heck do they mean, you don’t like surprise parties? He’d done a lot of those back at the Devildom and you’d never complained, appreciative as you are, even helping him do the same for other’s birthday parties!

Sure, you had always looked dumbfounded by the loud cheering and the confetti after stepping through the door, but that was part of the fun… right? You would tell him if you wanted him to stop, wouldn’t you?

He feels a pang in his heart when the idea of you being uncomfortable for his sake appears in his mind, but it doesn’t make sense. While you undeniably treat him better than anyone else in all of the realms, you still correct him when you see fit and him making you unhappy on your own birthday would be one of those occasions.

He trusts you to confide in him when things are wrong just as much as you trust him to do his best. That’s what friends are for, after all.

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And where else would Levi be if not hidden in a corner playing with his DDD?

He had tried mingling with people at the party, or at least tried hanging around them, he swears, but conversations became repetitive and boring and then he received a notification for a daily reward from one of his apps, so, of course, he had to sit down to collect it. Then minutes passed as he completed minigames to power up his cards and… you get the idea.

So when a friend of yours walked towards him, complimenting the pins and badges on his bag and the faint music coming out of his headphones, sure, the evening started going way smoother.

He talks enthusiastically, just like any other time his interests are mentioned, wildly gesturing with his hands and letting the little bubble around them be full of their eager exchange. However, a casual lament from his companion stops him right in his tracks.

It’s a shame you don’t like anime…? His first reaction is to laugh, enumerating everything you’d watched, and later commented on, with him under a blanket in the tranquillity of his room, but the utter surprise in your friend’s face leaves him speechless.

You really don’t like it? But… But he’s made you see so many things! Did you like any of them? Did you lie to his face when you said you enjoyed them? He would’ve never chosen a best friend like that; you were not like that and he refused to believe the contrary.

Also, would a liar buy merch on their own like you did? Would they watch the best episodes again or listen to the soundtrack on repeat when they had a bad day? This new revelation only makes him aware he was the one to change your perspective of the fine arts and he’s damn proud of that.

You are still getting an earful when you get back home, though.

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Satan thinks the kid is a young cousin of yours, but he really hasn’t been paying attention to anything in a long while. How could he, when the enthusiastic toddler had taken their mother’s phone just to show him the family cat’s pictures and videos?

A Mackerel tabby cat, too chubby for his own good but not enough to be actually concerning; playing with feathers, blinking slowly, bumping his head against legs and shoulders, meowing sweetly and, basically, opening his heart in half and making it roam inside his chest like a butterfly.

What a good party.

He mentions all the stray cats behind his house, obviously leaving behind the name of the House of Lamentation and the Devildom, and all the times you’ve gone with him to feed them and play. Satan even shows pictures on his DDD and stops with an adoring expression when you appear on the screen, sitting on your toes with a kitty on your knees and smiling past the camera, straight at Satan.

However, what he hears next takes the air right out of his lungs. He sits down and clutches his pearls and the kid stares at him in anxious confusion, clearly witnessing but not understanding the severity of his distress.

Who, in their right mind, doesn’t like cats?

He remembers the first few times you had accompanied him to his route, intimidated and slightly lingering behind. Initially, he had assumed it was due to the novelty of your friendship or a possible fear of Devildom fauna, but nothing against cats!

Were you afraid of them or just plain uninterested? Why keep going with him if you weren’t as fond of them as he thought you were? Wouldn’t it be because of him, would it?

A warm feeling covers him like a blanket, makes him search for you with his eyes and then immediately blush when you excitedly wave at him, point at the kid and mouth ‘Cute cat!���

Yeah. Very cute.

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On the other hand, Asmo hangs out with the people responsible for the decorations of the party and compliments them on their work. The colours are well-coordinated, there’s nothing out of place and the distribution was thought with all the guests in mind.

Although he hasn’t been able to help in that regard, he’s made sure you would be the centre of attention that evening; a complicated feature coming from him, but he had never minded sharing the main spot just as long as you were the one by his side; and everyone knows that.

You look cute and pretty and hot in your outfit, a style that both compliments and pleases you. You also worked together in your makeup for hours before getting to the party.

However, taking that much time might have been due to scrolling through social media and gossiping so much, but never mind that. Everyone agrees you look incredible and that is more than enough for him.

It isn’t until one of your friends mentions how weird it is to see you wearing makeup that he dares take his eyes away from you to stare at them in disbelief.

He would’ve never guessed that given that one of your favourite pastimes together is makeup as a whole: going shopping, watching tutorials, following trends, doing your own next to each other, doing each other’s… And, even if he wants to use it, his charming power is useless against you, so he knows you do your makeup because you want to and not because you feel forced by him.

Whether it’s something you share because you enjoy it or something you enjoy because you share it with him, he isn’t sure, but he can swear on his precious damned soul that makeup isn’t a need for you.

It’s just a bonus to your beauty.

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Sitting at one of the tables, Beel is simultaneously talking to your older sibling while gulping down an entire plate of bite-sized snacks; thankfully, whatever apprehension anyone felt at his hunger died hours ago and now the conversation flowed more naturally, mainly centred around you.

As much as he loves having you near him and his brothers in the House of Lamentation and thinking of you as another member of the family, he is very interested in knowing how your human family is, especially your siblings. It’s another way of relating to you and making him feel closer.

Plus, he gets to know stories from your childhood you may never tell him on your own; anecdotes that will stay at the table he is currently sharing with your sibling.

Unfortunately, they reach a point where, although he wants to keep asking questions about you, doing so with a mouth full of food might end up with Lucifer’s scolding of the year. Also, he really wants to make a good impression.

So your sibling begins asking the questions. Surprisingly, they start with his tattoo; dark red curling around his muscles and almost going unnoticed under the colours of dusk. Beel smiles without giving it any importance because it really doesn’t have it, but forces himself to stop gulping down food when your sibling throws a fun fact about you.

You find tattoos attractive?

He feels an instant burning on his cheeks followed by the rapid beating of his heart and a knot in his stomach, but there’s also a faint unpleasant sour taste in his mouth.

You’ve never asked him about his tattoo, barely sparing a glance at it when you worked out together or he took off his jacket.

He wonders if you don’t like it or if you think it doesn’t look good on him because all he can remember is the focused look in your eyes while looking at his and the curve of your smile growing bigger as you listen to whatever he says, even when it is entirely about food, and…

You know what? He doesn’t really mind. He is fine with things as they are.

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As both a friend of yours and a fellow younger brother, Belphie respects your sibling’s decision to spill your darkest secrets and thoroughly enjoys the air of comradery between them.

Don’t worry, he won’t let it go past actual serious matters; if you want him to know any of that, he’d rather have you telling him yourself when you’re ready and not get betrayed by your sibling. Silly and harmless pieces of information, however? Those are more than welcome.

And he already has a favourite.

You need to hug plushies to sleep? Tell him more. He doesn’t judge you for feeling the need to hug toys or pillows while sleeping. Actually, he understands.

Do you have a favourite? Is it in the human realm or is it in your room back at the House of Lamentation? While he can recall seeing that ugly zombie iguana on your bed, he’s never seen you cuddling it while sleeping and, other than that, he doesn’t remember seeing one, so he wonders if you hide it somewhere when you know he’s going to your room; but what about those times he enters uninvited?

Does that mean you left your preferred plushie in your room in the human realm? Does that mean that you don’t actually need to hug anything to sleep?

Whenever you share a bed, which is pretty frequent, Belphie can sense an invisible barrier between you that he’s dying to break. It’s nothing physical, given that only he knows how truly comfortable your lap and your chest are, but it’s obvious in the way your hands hesitate to bring him closer.

Shy and indecisive, while you don’t reject his advances, he’s still unsure what your feelings on the matter are. He’d initially thought you weren’t used to having anything so close to you while sleeping, but… now… Maybe he has to assure you that you can hug him as hard as you want.

Belphie is just as good as any plushie, after all; if not better.

.

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Taglist: @ilovecandys2010  @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom

[hollowdeath]

Thank god, another Harry Potter lover! 👓⚡️He really deserves more love! ❤️ That’s why I imagine him and the reader settling in a cottage by the sea or lake (you decide) to heal from the Wizarding War. They find comfort and solace in each other, and yes that includes countless lovemaking. 🥰 It’s just the two of them, so they’re free to express their love whenever and wherever they want. They especially enjoy making love on the shore under the stars after a swim, by the fireplace on a soft blanket, and in the bathtub surrounded by candles. They just need to feel and hold each other to remind themselves that everything’s okay now. You can do whatever you want with this, I just wanted to put it out there. Take care!

thank you so much for this request, i fell in love with it as soon as you sent it! i hope you enjoy!

pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader (18+)

summary: you & harry have moved away from everything & everyone to a remote cottage where the forest meets the sea. all harry wants after everything he's been through is to find peace, & he finds it in you.

c/w: smut!!! oral sex, penetration, rough sex

word count: 7.3k

harry was up early. he was watching the kettle boil on the gas stove in front of him, enjoying the warmth coming off of it, letting himself relax for just a moment. the steam from the water enveloped his face and felt nice. it was so chilly this morning. the windows were fogged over from the fire raving inside the stove, the wind whistling through the walls of the cottage.

the cottage was beautiful, harry couldn't deny it, though he could do with a bit more insulation. the raw, exposed stone walls were charming, and the moss and vines growing on the outside were something out of a fairy tale, but the fire needed to be fed every hour or so most of the day for at least half of the year or else it dropped below freezing inside. however, luckily, harry came to find wood chopping and trimming to be extremely therapeutic. just him, a sharp ax, and acres of woodlands to explore.

that was another thing harry could never deny about this property: the land was worth every penny. it's not often you find such a stunning cottage sitting on the border between a local forest and, what was essentially, a private beach on the north sea. the beach stretched at least a mile, but was obscured by the trees just behind the cottage. the land wasn't cheap, but harry was ready and extremely eager to spend whatever it took to finally get away from everything, live a simple life, and be alone.

alone with you, that is.

you and harry had gone to school together until the war, but eventually ended up reconnecting and began casually dating just over 2 years ago. since then you and harry had found complete solace in each other, both suffering from the negative side effects of witnessing and experiencing the war firsthand and supporting each other through difficult times. you were mostly struggling with paranoia and anxiety, and were actually the first to suggest getting a place together away from everyone else. you thought it would help if you were out of reach, isolated from the world, practically invisible from all danger.

harry, of course, was utterly haunted by the events of the war, and everything leading up to it. he gets angry at the world, has bouts of depression, deals with monumental grief and guilt, and has chronic, clinical sleep issues caused by nightmares. which is, ironically, the exact reason he's awake so early right now.

as he's pouring the boiling water out of the kettle and over a tea bag, harry can feel his eyelids fighting to stay open. he's barely slept this week, and he's starting to feel the effects of it. he's lightheaded, detached, and just wants to rest.

as he's walking to the front porch, mug in hand, harry takes a moment to pause in the doorway of your master bedroom and admire you. sleeping, surrounded by white cotton comforters, drowning in pillows, your hair wildly framing your peaceful face. he just stays there for a while, leaning against the doorframe, watching. he often watches you sleep when he can't himself. it brings him relief knowing you can get the rest you need.

before he heads outside harry slips on his favorite quarter zip. as he's sitting on the stairs outside, he admires the sound of the waves crashing just a few hundred or so yards away from him. he finishes his hot cup of tea, closes his eyes and lets himself sit in the cold waves of the wind. it's nice. like sleeping without the nightmares.

the moment is short lived as he hears the door creak open behind him. he looks back, and is in disbelief at how beautiful you look just waking up. a nightdress that barely covers anything at all draping around your shoulders, messy bed hair, sleepy eyes and a smile as you stand with the door cracked open, admiring harry in return.

"morning," you say simply, your voice still soft and hoarse from sleeping. harry smiles at you with soft and loving eyes. you walk towards him and let the door close behind you as you cuddle up next to harry on the stairs.

you don't seem to mind the chill in the air. your exposed skin is still hot from the fire burning inside. you lean your head on harry's shoulder, reaching for his mug, seeing there's nothing left, and leaving the mug in his hands. harry's chest hums as he chuckles. "would you like some? kettle's still warm," he asks.

you shake your head. you want to stay right here with harry in this moment.

the sea is so beautiful at this time of the morning. the sun was up, but only just barely above the horizon. no clouds, no birds, just the waves and the wind carrying their breeze.

speaking of breeze, you begin to shiver the longer you're out there in only a sleep dress. you still want to stay with harry, enjoying the view with him, but he notices you shaking.

"darling, let's get you inside,"

harry sits you in front of the stove and opens the small latch, letting the door stay open as you attempt to warm your hands. harry feeds the fire and rearranges the coals to make it burn hotter for you. after a minute or so, he also slips off his quarter zip and pulls it over your torso, smiling to himself at just how big it looks on you.

you find yourself finally starting to warm up, your toes burying themselves into the fur rug you're sitting on. after harry pours you a cup of tea, he joins you next to the fire. "thank you," you tell him with a smile, eagerly taking a sip of the warm drink.

harry's arm wraps around you and he watches the fire as you continue to sip your tea, enjoying the feeling of it warming you up from the inside.

you relish this moment with harry. since moving here barely a month ago, you've grown so fond of these smaller moments throughout the day with him. watching the scenery, watching the fire, sitting in comfortable silence, sharing a kettle of tea in the morning and afternoon, simply enjoying each other's company and the peace you've created for yourselves. it was one of your favorite parts about settling into this little slice of life.

and, of course, there was all the alone time.

while living with harry at grimmauld place was lovely, there was never truly a moment alone with him there. you had your own room with locked doors, but could hear someone walking, talking, cooking, always something in the background.

here, you were completely alone. a lot of people might find this situation to be even more terrifying, being so far away from everything, but you both agreed the isolation made you feel safer. safe from death eaters, safe from drama, safe from other people.

the safety from being so alone out here also meant that you and harry could be vulnerable with each other 24/7. you never had to put on a face or pretend things were okay if they weren't. if harry had nightmares, he could make some tea and enjoy a moment outside alone without anyone trying to psychoanalyze him. if you wanted to lay in bed until it was dark out again, harry wasn't going to judge you for it.

that vulnerability spread into other parts of your life as well.

you set your mug down next to the fire and turned towards harry who's already watching you as you admire his blue eyes, bloodshot from barely sleeping last night, or the night before. you take his face in your hands and just hold him for a moment, feeling him lean into your touch as his eyes flutter close. "i love you, harry," you say just above a whisper, breaking the comfortable silence.

harry looks up at you, but his eyes are now full of lust. you barely have a moment to process what's going on before harry leans in for a gentle, wanting kiss.

harry's always so soft with you despite his clearly strong desire. you've never been with someone who wanted you so bad no matter how many times you've been with them. everything with harry was like the first time all over again; the same desperation and desire to please that just never left.

the kiss quickly gets heated as harry pulls his quarter zip off of you, making you both giggle at the fact that he just put it on you only a few minutes prior. your lips reconnect in a haste, not wanting even a single second away from each other.

harry lays you down on the rug beneath you as his hands make their way to your exposed legs, feeling the heat from the fire on your thighs. his shirt quickly comes off as well from you tugging at it. a moan escapes your lips just watching his body as he pulls the shirt over his head.

harry's suffered from many injuries in these last few years that have left him littered in scars. and while you obviously hate to think about harry in pain, something about his scars drove you crazy with lust. a brave boy who faced death and came back, now healing far away from the cruel world with you as his lover. it was just another reminder that you were safe, that he was finally safe.

harry smiles as he goes in to kiss you again, his hands going right back to your thighs as he pushes your nightdress above your panties. you're holding his face lovingly but harry pulls away from the kiss to look at you. he watches your expression intently as he starts sliding his fingers over your panties, earning a sigh of relief from you. harry's eyes grow darker the longer he teases you. he sits up to use his other hand to hold down your bucking hips, causing you to whine in frustration.

"patience," harry commands from you in a stern voice. you look up at him, jaw lax, breathing uneven, and simply give him a nod.

you love this side of harry. of course you fell in love with the soft, gentle, careful parts of him first, but over time you saw more and more of his angry, controlling, dominant side during sex that you were completely weak for.

living at hogwarts and then grimmauld place right after, most of your intimate moments with harry were kept quiet to avoid being heard. soft whispering, quiet moans, slow movements, and breathless orgasms under a heavy blanket with the lights dimmed. once you moved here, away from everything and everyone, things were different.

of course, you were both still a bit quiet and shy at first, not used to having a place all to your own where no one can hear you for miles. but, slowly, you and harry learned to break old habits and started experimenting together. a lot.

it seemed like neither of you could ever get enough of each other since coming here. you'd always been really attracted to each other, maybe more than the average couple, but something about being alone together in this corner of the world where the forest meets the ocean made you feel so connected, so in tune, and completely and utterly obsessed with each other.

it started with long, drawn-out, foreplay-heavy love making in your new bed to "break it in", sometimes spending hours each day just entangled together on top of the sheets, admiring the other's body and exploring every part. then it would slowly move over to the bath, naturally, after spending so much time sweating together in bed. after a while the sessions would get shorter as you would both be completely exhausted afterwards. instead, they increased in frequency.

either you or harry would find little opportunities to sneak in a quick fuck throughout the day between chores, or would give the other person head as they made dinner in the kitchen. it was thrilling. neither of you had ever been sexual outside of the bedroom/bathroom before, but you found it completely erotic.

you had yet to have sex in front of the fire, oddly enough, but you had thought about it quite a few times before. the warmth of the stove, the soft rug beneath you, the light on harry's skin, the sweat dripping off of him…

"[y/n]," harry said, snapping you out of your daze. "are you even listening to me?" he asks with a smirk.

you blush immediately, so lost in your thoughts about the sex you were just about to have that you couldn't even focus on what was currently happening…

"s-sorry…" you mumble. "you just drive me crazy," you admit shyly.

harry's hand pushes further into your hips, a groan crawling out of his throat as he glares at you. "don't make me cum already, darling," he growls, his voice deep and rumbling in his chest.

you whimper under his pressure, your back arching as your body attempts to find some kind of release from the growing tension inside of you.

"so fucking desperate already," harry says, clearly enjoying watching you struggle under his control. "if i could resist you even a little bit i would sit here and watch you struggle all day," he tells you as he leans into your neck, his teeth sinking into your skin. you wince and squeal, your heart racing from the pain.

harry smirks at your reaction. he sits up and releases the pressure on your hips, causing them to buck upwards instinctively. a pathetic "please," is all you're able to muster as you attempt to catch your breath.

normally harry wants to hear you do a lot more begging than that, but he's just as desperate as you are at this point and he can't resist you much longer.

harry props your legs up for him after helping you take off your panties, throwing them to the side as he lays between your thighs. you prop yourself up on your elbows to look down at harry who's hungrily looking between your eyes and your pussy. your breathing is rapid and shallow as your heart continues to thump in your chest. even after all these years and all the times you've seen harry between your legs you just never get used to the sight. he still gives you butterflies like a nervous girl with a crush.

your head rolls in pleasure as harry starts kissing your thighs; even in both of your desperate states, even when he's at his most dominant, he's still the gentle, loving harry you're so in love with.

harry's hands find your own and intertwine your fingers together as his tongue begins exploring your pussy. you can feel yourself getting even more wet as harry's mouth attaches itself to you, enjoying how you taste. moaning, whining, hips bucking onto harry's tongue, you start to feel yourself sweat from both the fire and harry's intense gaze up at you.

"f-fuck," you cry, your thighs instinctively squeezing around harry's head. he can't help but moan as he sucks on your clit, practically letting you ride his face.

you reach for your silky nightdress and lift it above your chest, exposing your nipples to the warmth of the fire as you continue watching harry make your legs tremble.

harry's eyes droop in pleasure. one of his hands grabs for your tits and the other applies the same pressure to your hips as before. you let out your first real moan above a whimper, your hips still trying to grind against harry's mouth as he continues pushing you further into the rug.

his tongue's now inside of you, teasing you as you clench around him, your thighs still quivering.

"harry, harry, please," you say breathlessly, begging for more. harry ignores you, instead only going slower to drive you mad. you groan in frustration. he looks back up at you for only a second, but you can see the smirk in his eyes.

his hand lets go of your tits before making its way to your thighs, pushing them away from his head as harry takes a moment to breathe. you're blushing, completely flustered, eyes half-open. "sorry," you apologize.

"don't be. give me more." harry demands.

his hand pushes further into your pelvis, his elbow holding down your thigh as you wince at the pressure.

harry's mouth returns to your clit as his fingers feel how wet you are for him. your body jolts at the sensation, but harry just holds you down tighter. starting with one finger, harry pushes inside you slowly as you writhe under his grasp. your hands get tangled in his hair again, desperately pulling his face further into your pussy.

harry just chuckles, looking up at you as he slowly pushes another finger inside you. you gasp, your grip in his hair tightening as your other hand plays with your tits. just the look in harry's eyes watching you chase your high is enough to bring you close to the edge.

harry's fingers were pumping in and out of your pussy, his lips and tongue still teasing your clit. your thighs threatened to close again, but harry kept them spread open for himself. "enough," he states, planting his elbows into your thighs and his hand against your pelvis. he glares up at you as he repositions himself. "stay."

you can feel your body react to the aggression in his voice. this is the hungriest, and hottest, side of harry you've ever seen. you're already brought back to the brink of orgasm as soon as you can see harry's fingers pumping inside you again, his wrist and forearm veins pronounced against the light of the fire as he picks up his speed.

the moans coming out of your mouth are filthy and involuntary, your mind going blank at the sudden rush of pleasure through your body. once harry's tongue begins circling your clit again, you don't have a chance at lasting much longer.

"i-i, harry, stop, i'm–" is all you're able to get out before your legs begin shaking, your head thrown back, crying out in overwhelming pleasure. it feels so good not having to hold back your moans anymore.

harry's lips detach from you, swollen, covered in your wetness. his fingers continue thrusting into you, gently now as you ride out your high. he slowly removes them after a moment, his hand and elbows relieving the pressure that kept you pinned to the ground.

you're still whining, your legs aching from struggling against harry's weight. they feel impossibly heavy as you try to bend your knees up. harry just watches you, enjoying the aftermath of his work.

you're still seeing stars by the time harry's pants have come off, his cock barely peeking through the front of his boxers. he starts rubbing himself through the fabric, his breathing becoming labored as you watched him in a daze.

you look up at him innocently through your eyelashes, your mouth slightly ajar as you lean your weight to one elbow, using the other hand to take his place. he lets you take over, slowly stroking his erection through his boxers, enjoying his gaze down at you from above. his hand goes to your cheek, softly tracing the curve of your smile.

his fingers delicately open your lips before roughly shoving them into your mouth. you make a surprised noise, but quickly begin sucking and licking his fingers. he pulls his boxers down with the other hand, and uses your spit to lube himself up. you lick your own fingers and do the same, helping guide his cock into you with a groan of both pleasure and discomfort.

harry gradually thrusts into you, letting you adjust to him, taking his time with you. he watches your aching pussy welcome his cock eagerly, your legs already starting to tremble from the pressure building inside you again. "oh, fuck," harry's voice cracks, his hands gripping your thighs as they continue to involuntarily shake.

a hand flies to your mouth, barely able to contain yourself already. seeing harry's face of relief as his cock slides all the way inside you only makes you clench around him tighter. he lets out a struggled breath, his grip on your thighs only tightening as he spread them open for himself again.

harry's eyes are closed in bliss, his thrusts slow but deep, forcing a whine from your throat each time he's completely inside you. he's starting to sweat, his hair hanging loosely around his forehead, arms flexed to keep his grip on you, his body leaning down into yours as he starts picking up his pace.

harry looks down at you. one of his hands grabs the hand covering your mouth. "let me hear you, angel," he speaks gently but his voice is hungry, immediately earning a soft moan from your lips. he smiles, leaning down to kiss you sloppily.

harry takes this time to really pick up his speed, adjusting his position to roughly thrust himself into your throbbing pussy. his hands grab for the back of your knees, forcing your legs to bend back as he only pushes himself into you more.

"oh my god," you gasp into harry's kiss, your hands wrapping around his shoulders to steady yourself. harry's forehead rests against yours, looking down, glasses fogged up from the heavy breathing and heat from the fire. he's watching himself from your angle, slowing down his thrusting to a torturous pace. you both groan at the feeling and sight of harry pushing his cock completely inside you and slowly pulling back out before thrusting into you again.

"fuck, baby, you take my cock so well, feel so fucking good," harry says breathlessly into your ear.  your nails dig into his shoulders as you try not to cum again already just from harry's voice. you're both sweating, faces pressed together, the fire slightly dying beside you but still creating a warm glow.

"y-you're, mmph, i'm so close, again," you cry, letting yourself rest back on the soft rug. you feel so at peace despite the growing tension in your stomach – watching harry prop himself up with one hand on the ground beside you and the other still holding your leg back, his chest heaving as he continues thrusting inside you with a growing pace.

harry looks at your twisted expression, eyes glossed over and cheeks flushed, your tits bouncing as he roughly uses your body for his pleasure.

"yeah?" harry looks at you, his grip on your leg tightening as he fucks you roughy into the rug. "fucking cum for me," he commands from you.

you barely need his permission before you're already over the edge, legs uncontrollably shaking, eyes rolling back, incoherent words getting lost in your broken moans and cries of pain.

it's all harry needs before he feels himself release inside you, still thrusting into you slowly as his cum spills out of your pussy.

your body is shaking from the sensation, your legs still vibrating as you clench around harry's cock. he struggled to finally pull out of you.

still trying to catch his breath, harry lovingly rubs your thighs as he watches your swollen pussy ache for the feeling of his cock again.

"so fucking beautiful, my love," harry sighs, relaxing his body on top of yours, his head in your neck. "my beautiful, beautiful girl," he repeats, covering you in kisses as he showers you with compliments.

you just giggle at him, exhausted, trying to come back down to earth.

"i can't…move," you mumble between breaths, your eyes drooping closed as your feet touch back down on the rug. you feel even more weak than before.

harry hums, kissing your forehead. "it's okay, i've got you, darling," he says with a warm smile.

he stands up, slowly, but isn't in as much pain as he expected. his knees are sore for sure, but otherwise, he couldn't feel better.

he leans down to help you sit up, guiding your body into his arms as he picks you up bridal style, your head resting in his chest. you giggle again but you're too weak to reject the gesture. he carefully carries you to the bathroom just down the hall from the living room.

harry runs you both a warm bath as you watch from the counter. he's still naked, as are you, but it's not awkward or sexual – it's just natural.

he shuts the water off and reaches for you once again. "i'm okay now," you insist, standing from the counter and steadying yourself with his hands. he still helps you walk to the tub before helping you climb inside. the water's extremely hot, but it feels so nice on your sweaty, aching skin.

"i'll be right back, gotta feed the fire, just wait for me, yeah?" harry says before he dips out of the bathroom.

looking around you as you warm the rest of your body with the water, you notice the candles sitting around the tub from the last time you both took a bath together. just the flash of the memory through your brain is enough to make your stomach twist into knots again. harry had you bent over the side of the tub as water splashed everywhere, the feeling of freedom and carelessness intoxicating you both as you cared about nothing but each other's highs.

with a flick of your wet hand, you light all the candles again, and the room is lit with a warm glow. it's not often you use magic anymore, harry prefers to do things manually now that you're both caring for a piece of land, but the convenience of certain spells are too useful to forget completely.

walking back in, harry smirks at all the candles being lit. he admires you for a moment, naked, sweaty, half submerged in the huge clawfoot bathtub surrounded by the glow of the candles. "trying to insinuate something, love?" harry asks, closing the bathroom door behind him.

you blush, curling your knees into your chest. "just thought it'd be nice to have some light," you say softly.

harry grabs you both towels and sets them next to the tub before climbing in himself. he positions himself behind you, holding your body as he guides you to relax into his chest. once you laid your head back, you and harry sat in comfortable, warm silence for a long while.

it takes a few minutes before harry's hands begin rubbing at your stomach, slowly, making ripples throughout the water as you lower your knees, letting harry comfort you. he's humming softly, your head rumbling in his chest. he rests his head next to your own and watches his hands from your perspective.

his rubbing gets further and further down your stomach, running his hands along your waist and hips before finally grabbing at your inner thighs roughly. you let out a pathetic whimper, watching his hands from above the water.

"is it bad that i already need you again?" harry chuckles, half joking but half already turned on. you shake your head quickly, your hips thrusting up for relief, moaning at his words. "no, need you, please," you respond desperately, looking over at him.

harry's eyes are darker once more, watching as his hands gradually move to your sensitive pussy. you groan in response, but harry quickly kisses you to cover it. "i know, baby, just let me take care of it," he says into your lips.

slowly circling your clit with soft fingers, harry watches as your eyes droop more and more from the building pleasure. eventually his fingers are back inside of you, gently pumping in and out. his head turns back to your body as he watches you react to him. his other hand goes for your tits, grabbing one roughly from just above the surface of the water.

while it feels good being teased you're insanely desperate for harry once again. your hand reaches behind you, feeling harry's growing erection against your back. harry's grip on you tightens as your hand starts stroking his cock slowly under the water.

"fucking dirty girl," he groans under his breath, taking his fingers out of your pussy to continue rubbing your clit. you cry out at the loss of feeling, your hand squeezing around harry as he just enjoys the feeling.

soon, harry's moved your hips to align with his, your arms holding your body up on either side of the tub as you slowly insert harry back inside your pussy once again. the familiar feeling is only enhanced by being underwater, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease as you adjust to the feeling.

"oh my god," you sigh, your stomach already tightening, thighs still a bit shaky. harry's guiding your hips expertly, groaning in pleasure watching your ass dip in and out of the water onto his lap. his head is resting against the edge of the tub, mind blank, solely focused on your pleasure and his.

"fuck, harry," you whimper again, rolling your hips around on his cock before thrusting it inside you again. harry wishes you could see just how sexy you look from this angle, your hair flowing down your back, your skin glistening in the candlelight, the water droplets running down your hips, it's enough to make him resist the urge to finish already.

"you're so perfect," harry groans. he smacks your ass, slapping the water with it, causing you to squeal and quicken your pace. the same filthy moans are still spilling from your mouth, hardly able to contain yourself in this situation. something about using the time meant to help each other clean up to only continue fucking makes you feel so dirty, so used, and it's driving you crazy.

harry suddenly stops you, much to your disappointment, and tells you to trust him. "just get out and stand up," he says.

you do as he says, and eventually harry has you bent over the bathroom counter, barely lit by the candles behind you. he slowly returns his cock inside of you, your bodies dripping water everywhere.

as harry's thrusts become more consistent, one hand grabs for your shoulder and the other for your damp hair. he forces your face to look in the mirror, your eyes barely open from the pleasure. "watch," he commands. your eyes shot open at his voice, tracing the shape of your shadows in the mirror in front of your face.

harry loses himself in you, his head rolling back in pleasure hearing you struggle to take his cock for a second time. you're trying to moan, say anything at all, but your voice is incomprehensible as harry only becomes rougher with you.

"god damn it, [y/n]," harry spits out, his voice clearly exhausted. his hands travel back to your tits, pulling you back up into him as he continues pounding into you from behind. you're a mess in his hands as they roughly grope your tits.

"look at you," harry growls into your neck, looking into the mirror just in front of you as his gaze meets yours. "so fucking sexy,"

your hands desperately grip the edge of the counter for balance, your legs getting more and more weak by the second. harry pushes you further over the counter, his moans becoming urgent.

"i'm gonna fill you up because you're fucking mine, yeah? look at this perfect body of yours," harry's voice strains, his sweaty chest against your back as he forces you to continue watching yourself get pounded in the mirror, one arm over your chest and the other holding your hips. the light of the candles is just enough to let you see harry's dark expression. "fucking perfect, just for me,"

you haven't been able to get a single word out, your mind spinning as harry only gets more and more desperate, his pace getting sloppy.

"fuck, baby, just be good for me and let me cum inside your tight little pussy, hm? let me show you what's mine,"

you're already starting to cum just from harry's words. the overwhelming pleasure racks your body harshly as harry continues to use you for himself. shaking, barely able to stand without his help, your voice is breaking as you cry out in ecstasy for the third time just this morning.

harry's barely able to last much longer. his thrusts have slowed to uneven, jerky motion as he feels his cum spilling deep inside you. breathy moans and aching bodies, harry rests against you with your body limp against the counter. he lifts his head from your neck to kiss your skin softly, everywhere, slowly helping guide you back to the tub for a second time. your legs are weaker than before and you're barely able to contribute as harry leans you into the water, still kissing your damp skin.

"i love you, i love you," he's mumbling between kisses.

you're too weak and dizzy to respond in any way, still trying to catch your breath as harry begins cleaning your skin. he rubs a soft rag along your chest, neck, back, shoulders, and arms. the whole time he's complimenting you lovingly, a gentle touch and warm gaze upon your tired face.

after washing himself, harry also dries you off, carrying you back to bed before getting you both dressed in comfortable, warm pajamas. "just rest for today, my love," he told you as he laid you down. you reach for his hands. "stay?"

harry smiles. you didn't have to ask, it was literally his bed too, but he admires how soft and innocent you are in this moment. though he loves to be rough with you like he just was, there's nothing more special in the world to him than the gentleness between you two. his whole life has been nothing but challenges, setbacks, problems, and you're everything but. he just wants to be soft and gentle with you.

harry climbs under the sheets, his body also succumbing to the ache and exhaustion. he wraps himself around you, already falling asleep against his chest. harry joins not long after, finally getting his much needed sleep without the threat of his nightmares.

a few weeks later it's just a bit warmer out than it has been, so you and harry immediately started the day doing outdoor chores while you could. harry was chopping wood as you cleaned up around the cottage garden. it was too cold most of the year to grow much of anything out of it, but you still liked to keep it manageable for the smaller animals that stopped by to look around.

you also took the time to admire harry, shirtless, sweaty, groaning each time he drops the ax into another cut of firewood. his body had become well built from all the manual labor he's been doing lately, carrying entire trunks or stumps of trees out of the forest, lifting heavy bags of mulch and dirt for you, digging out the flower bed around the cottage, he was more muscular and toned than you'd ever seen him. it never mattered what harry's body looked like to you, you always found him attractive no matter what, but you couldn't deny that his toned back and broad shoulders got you more worked up than usual lately.

it was nice getting to work on the home with each other, a comfortable silence filling the day broken by the occasional question, favor, kiss, or compliment. it was peaceful, this routine you both had, and it felt so natural to work with each other. you hardly had to communicate your ideas because you were often thinking the same things.

tea in the morning, chores once the sun is out, taking a dip in the ocean at sunset, and having a warm home cooked dinner in the dark, the cottage lit from within from candles and the fireplace. it was perfect. for both of you.

and, of course, the sex had never slowed down as well.

you had both joked at the beginning of your move that you didn't think you could ever stop yourselves now that you were isolated from the world, but that's exactly what ended up happening. neither of your desires could be relieved no matter how many times you tried. not that you wanted them to go away by any means, it was just overwhelming, the feral need to spend hours each day pleasuring each other in every way possible. it was always passionate and desperate for more, never becoming repetitive or any less exciting. it was exactly what you both needed and wanted all the time.

as the sun was setting for the day, you and harry sat together and shared an orange you had gotten at the market just a few miles away earlier that week. you were lucky to be close enough to something that offered fresh produce, even in the colder parts of the year. harry watched the waves crashing against the sand, his knees to his chest as you both steady yourself on a large rock between the cottage and the water.

"thank you," harry says softly. you look over at him, his hands now empty as he's swallowing the last of his orange slices. you finish yours as well. "of course," you respond.

harry shakes his head. "no. really. thank you, [y/n], for everything." he says, still watching the sea. you blush, giving him a soft smile before turning to watch it as well. "i'm finally, really, truly happy. for the first time in my life, i feel at peace." harry explains, still speaking softly just over the crashing waves.

you could cry just from harry's words. all you've ever wanted was for him to feel safe. he's had such a difficult start in life and didn't deserve what happened to him, or what he was forced to do. he deserved simplicity. a normal life in a normal home doing normal chores. he deserved to be happy.

overcome with love, you stand from the rock and grab harry's hand, pulling him with you. he silently follows you down the beach. once you're a few yards away from the shore, you pull down the straps of the dress you had been working in off your shoulders, letting the material slide right off your body and onto the sand as you continue heading towards the water.

you turn to look at harry, and he's stunned at how beautiful you are. the shape of your body against the warm sunset over the water, nothing but a pair of panties covering your sweaty skin. your hair was flowing in the salty breeze of the ocean, hands reaching for his as your feet began to touch the water.

harry's ripped and dirty blue jeans come off as well as his glasses, leaving them behind on the sand as he grabs for your hand. you walk into the water together, slightly shivering from the lingering chill beneath the warm surface, but quickly adjusting to the temperature. harry's only admiring you, like he always does, as you dip your head under the water and come up, pushing the hair out of your face.

harry does the same, wiping his face of the sweat and dirt that's collected over the work day with the salty water. this has become one of his favorite parts of your routine together, cooling off in the ocean after a long day. not just to wash off the sweat and stress of the day, but also to admire you in all your glory under the shining sun.

harry wastes no time reaching for you, pulling you into him as you float in his grasp. he holds you for a moment, mesmerized by the light in your eyes, a smile permanently fixed on his face. "my beautiful girl," he reminds you, his forehead leaning against yours. you hum, reaching your hands to his neck as you pull him in for a heated kiss.

you've had sex in the ocean a few times now, and it's quickly become one of your favorites. it's the ultimate form of freedom being naked together making love in the gentle waves, harry holding you around his waist as he hugs your body into his.

most nights you're both too tired from working to go further than sloppy making out and feeling each other up; but other nights, like tonight, you're both too desperate to care if it hurts.

as harry continues kissing you he carries you back to the shore, your legs still around his waist as he lays you down onto the sand. the water just barely washes over harry's legs as it meets the shoreline. you relax into the warm sand beneath you, harry already pulling your panties off. you giggle at his eagerness. he smirks, his hands gripping your waist hungrily.

you can see harry's erection through his soaking wet boxers barely hanging off his hips. just as eagerly, you pull them down for him as he kicks them to the side.

harry easily slides his cock inside of you, letting out a struggled sigh of relief at the feeling. no matter what's going on around him, harry will always feel perfectly in place when he's inside of you.

your hands are tangled in his wet hair, gripping tighter as he bottoms out. he moans desperately, leaning in for another kiss. his pace evens out to a familiar rhythm, your body wrapping around him as he fucks you into the wet sand. the warm sunset is perfectly met with the chilly breeze of the water that's still waving over both of you gently. each time it gives you shivers, your body arching into harry's from the shocking feeling.

harry's not sure if he's ever wanted to finish this quickly before. it was so perfect, this moment, the sun, the waves, you. he just couldn't believe this was his life. making love to the most beautiful girl in the world where the land meets the sea. he never thought life could be this simple and beautiful, but with you it was effortless.

he pulled away from the kiss to simply look at you, eyes drooping, cheeks blushing, eyebrows pinched together in desperation. he smiled. "i love you," he says so simply, his thrusts beginning to stutter against you. you smile back, eyes still half open. "love you, harry, so much," you manage to say between heavy breaths.

you pull him back in for a kiss, and feel his body weaken on top of you, leaning on his elbows for support in the uneven sand. "baby, baby," he tries to warn you, but you just continue kissing him and wrap your legs back around his waist, pulling him deeper into your pussy.

he completely unravels, pumping his cum inside you as he cries against your lips. "fuck," he keeps groaning in a broken voice. you can feel yourself letting go as well, your thighs squeezing around harry's waist as the water crashes into your body again, making you shake even more.

you both enjoy the moments after your climaxes together, letting the water continue to run over you as the sun's light falls below the horizon. harry, still inside you, his body resting on top of yours, tells you he loves you in the softest, sleepiest voice he can manage.

you kiss his head, reminding him how much you love him.

you both eventually sit up, covered in sand, and chuckle to each other about it. harry invites you back into the water where he washes you off, giving you a loving kiss under the dim sky.

he continues holding you there in the gentle waves, the emerging stars lighting the sky above you. he's a bit cold now, but he couldn't be more warm inside. harry just loves you and the little life you've built with him here on the sea. he feels happy, loved, and completely at peace in the ocean with you in his arms.

[s0urw00lf]

Accidents happen

Pairing: Neteyam x reader

Summary: You and Neteyam find solace in each other. Maybe a little too much…

Requested by anon

AN: girl i’m so sorry it took me so long to get this out, i was procrastinating. But i hope you like it and maybe ill do a part two???

The night was quiet, and the waves of the ocean were soothing the nerves going haywire in your stomach. As the next in line of tsahik your connection with eywa was deep, even more so than your mothers for a reason unknown to you. You couldn’t help but worry something terrible was coming but you had no idea whatsoever what it was, that’s why you sat at the edge of the village on a rock, dangling your feet into the water. The pit in your stomach was heavy with bad feelings that were unknown to you. The waves softly crashing into the rock was working wonders calming your nerves, this was the most relaxed you’d been in weeks. You were relaxed but still alert, which is why your ears perked up when you heard footsteps coming from behind you.

You discreetly grabbed your knife out of its sheath attached to your hip, and when the footsteps got close enough you whipped around holding your knife menacingly. At the sight of the familiar boy holding up his hands in surrender after letting a ‘woah’ slip out, you lowered your knife. “I apologize I did not mean to scare you” he apologized, after lowering his hands. You let out a sigh in relief, “it is okay, guess i wasn't expecting anyone to be awake at this time” you said, returning back to your seated position on the rock facing the sea. He nodded in understanding, both that you saw though nor did you really care. “May I join you?” He asked, making you turn your head to him. You pondered for a second before nodding and turning your focus back on the horizon.

You two sat in silence before he spoke “what are you doing awake anyway?”. You looked over to him thinking of an answer “I am not sure if i'm honest. Just needed some peace away from the hustle of the clan i guess” you said not really wanting to go into detail. “What about you forest boy” you teased lightly. He smiled at the nickname you and your sister had graced him and his brother with. “It reminds me of home,” he said, gesturing to the line of trees about ten feet away. You nodded, “do you miss it?” You asked in curiosity. “More than anything” he immediately answered. Your expression softened, “I can not imagine it, being torn away from everything I’ve grown to know and having to start all over, that must be so hard” you said in thought, the thought hurts just thinking about it. “I can not show how badly I miss home, I must be the example for my siblings. I have to like it here so they do” he frowned, dropping his head .“My parents would not let me know peace until I achieved every task with ease” you frowned at the thought.

Neteyam tilted his head in wonder “your parents are hard on you?” He asked. You almost let out a laugh “Of course, I am the oldest, I set the example I hold the future of the clan in my hands. And do not even get me started on when my brother disobeys its always my job to watch over him and take the fall though I don’t have to worry about it much with Tsireya.” You said, feeling irritation arise. Turns out Neteyam had the same problem with his father. “I did not know, I have the same issue with my parents and skxawng brother. It is so hard sometimes, being the perfect son. Making sure I’m doing everything right while keeping an eye out for my siblings and not disappointing my parents” he vented.

“Growing up I always looked out to my parents and how amazing they were. They are strong and great leaders and I wanted to be that too, but now looking back I don’t feel as if I am. My parents do not look at me like they do my siblings; like I’m their child. Instead it is as if I am a soldier. I must do everything right, pass every test and look graceful while doing it so I don’t scare off possible mates. And do not mistake me I love my siblings with everything in me but it is so hard, I just wish to freeze time sometimes so I can breathe.” You ranted, somehow finding out that you were not alone in this life made you feel better. Neteyam is not judging you for letting your guard down and wanting to be normal. He’s listening and understanding and that is what you needed at this point in time. You both sat in silence after your admission. He reached over and grabbed your hand and you looked down an your hands and entertained your fingers with his. “I- I have this feeling in my stomach, a bad feeling like something bad is coming.” You let it slip fiddling with his fingers. You didn’t know why he mad you fee so comfortable but you couldn’t complain. Your whole life you’d had up this strong front but he was able to tear it down in a matter of seconds. He lifted his other hand to gently grab your face. Your eyes met his and immediately you saw the softness in his eyes, you also saw how beautiful he was. The glowing dots on his face were beautiful at night. You had never really looked at him before but you were confused on how you couldn’t see how attractive he was. He began to lean in, your breath hitched and your heart rate picked up. “Is this okay” he asked, his breathe fanned over your lips. You nodded and connected your lips.

That night things happened. You were not proud of it, in fact the feeling in your stomach worsened. You and neteyam actively avoided each other, you were terrified for your parents to find out, scared that they would desert the sullys and disown you. You’d been a ball of stress walking around the clan, ‘what would they say? We aren’t even mated’ you wondered. A few days later you found out you were with child after your body had begun to reject your food and your heart practically stopped. You tried to find any way to be away from your family when you ate just so your mother wouldn’t connect the dots. Eyes why? Was this what she was warning you about? Was it meant to be this way?

One day when you were sitting on your ilu at the edge of the reef your siblings had shown up much to your surprise. “Sister, you’re avoiding us” tsireya said worried. You frowned getting defensive “im not, im busy completing my tasks” you lied quickly. Aounung gave you a look as if saying ‘really?’ “I am, okay? I have a lot to complete before the ceremony” you said. Tsireya shook her head “are you okay? Whatever it is you can tell us we wont tell. Even if mom and dad are getting suspicious” she said muttering the last part. At that your walls crumbled, tears filled your eyes and cascaded down your face, “they will hate me, i can’t tell them. You cant tell them” you begged tears still falling downy our face. They both nodded profusely. “I- i am with child” you admitted. Both of their faces mirrored horror, Aonung more angry and Tsireya just complete shock. “What were you thinking, you know mom and dad will-” your brother scolded but you cut him off “will do nothing because you wont tell. Right?” You asked. You both stared each other down and eventually he gave up sending you a nod. “Who?” Tsereya asked, you knew she didn’t want to finish the sentence. You hesitated looking down “neteyam”.

”sister tell me you are joking” tsereya said, her face again filled with horror. “Why would i joke? I was stupid and now i'm paying the price. Hiding it from my family, mom and dad would send them away, the cannot suffer for my stupidity. They can be as disappointed in me as they want, not like it's anything new.” You defended. “Does he know?” Your brother questioned. You shook your head “no”. He scoffed “every word that comes out of your mouth makes me question how we are related.” He said. You squinted your eyes at him in irritation. “What hes saying is maybe you should talk to him. Come up with a plan and go from there. He deserves to know. He is just as responsible as you” tsireya interrupted before an argument could break out. You frowned in thought. If he accepts it you wouldn’t be completely alone if your parents decided to rid themselves of you. You nodded, making your way back to shore to find neteyam not sure how you’d break it to him.

— with neteyam —

his family noticed he’d been acting weird. He started getting irritated easily his fuse was short and no one knew why. “Bro whats your problem” lo’ak asked, getting irritated at Neteyam attitude. “Nothing, lo’ak” he replied shortly, dropping the pile of nets he was told to bring home by an elder. He entered his family’s mauri pod noting that his parents were watching him not so discreetly, something they’d been doing since they noticed his odd behavior. “Did you get the nets?” Jake asked, neteyam wanted to yell or throw something or hit someone. “Over there sir” he said pointing to the entrance to the pod. “Kid i told you to drop it off with my ilu” Jake scolded, neteyam walked over to the nets and grabbed them, his ears pinned back and his tail swished impatiently. He tossed the nets on th ilu waiting at the dock. He re-entered the pod “now its with your ilu like you asked” he said irritation lacing his tone. The pod filled with a thick tension.

Everyone held their breath waiting for Jake to do or say something. Jake stood making his way to neteyam grabbing his arm harshly “Hey! What the hell is your problem boy? Huh?” Jake asked, neteyam could feel the anger radiating from his father and lowered his head in shame. He wanted to cry, but he couldn’t. Not in front of his siblings. Not in front of his father. He had to keep it together. But he couldn’t keep the tears from pooling in his eyes. He lifted his head to meet his fathers eyes. “No problem sir” he said.

Jake immediately noticed the tears brimming his eyes and his grip loosened. “May i be excused” neteyam asked, his voice didn’t give away the tears in his eyes, but Jake could see the pleading look in his sons eyes. Jake nodded, in shock having not expected to ever see his son on the verge of tears right in front of him. Neteyam quickly took his leave. Kiri and lo’ak followed quickly after him. Jake turned to neytiri still in shock. She looked at him with confusion, she couldn’t see neteyam ace over Jake’s shoulder. “He was on the verge of crying” Jake told her. Her eyebrows raised and the same question filled both of their heads ‘what the hell happened’

Lo’ak and kiri easily found Neteyam sitting with his hands in his head. “What happened” Lo’ak questioned, seriously this time. “And if you say nothing i will throw a rock at your head” kiri kinda but not really joked. Neteyam shook his head his hair swaying with the rhythm of his head. “I messed up” Neteyam admitted. Lo’ak folded his arms “what could you have done that bad” he asked. Neteyam looked up to his sibling who were standing right in front of him. “Y/n an di spent the night together” he said. The silence that followed after Neteyams confession was deafening. Lo’ak and kiri looked at each other with wide eyes, confirming that they both heard right. ‘Did you mate with her?” Lo’ak asked. Neteyam shook his head, the lump in his throat prevented him from speaking. He was terrified, if his parents find out he was sure his dad would skin him and his mom would do nothing to stop it, but eywa help him if your parents find out. His family was at risk of being kicked out all because of him and that guilt ate him alive. “Have you checked on her?” Kiri asked, sitting down beside him. “No, I do not think I can” he said. Kiri sighed disappointed. “You idiot brother of mine, she could be going through worse than you. Man up and go talk to her. We’ll take care of mom and dad for now.” Kiri said. “Yeah go, don't be a wuss” lo’ak joked patting Neteyam’s shoulder. He felt lighter knowing he had his siblings support, so he nodded, standing up and walking away. “He is so dead” Kiri said. “This puts me in the clear for the next 10 years” lo’ak smiled.

— back with you —

you found neteyam way quicker than you would’ve liked, his dark blue skin stuck out in the crowd of teal blue metkayina. You slowly approached him, his back was turned toward you and he looked as if he was looking for something. Or someone. “Neteyam” you called. You saw his tail still and body go rigid. He turned around towards you with wide eyes. “Y/n” he said. You both stared at each other, behind him you saw his siblings peeking from behind a rock. “You told them?” You asked softly. He nodded, “just kiri and lo’ak” he said. You nodded “i think we should talk” you said. Neteyams heart dropped. He was afraid of the possibilities. He nodded, “would you like to go somewhere more private?” he asked. You nodded and the two of you began to walk towards the place you’d met that night.

Once you were there and settled, your heart was racing “i- i do not know what to-“ you cut yourself off with a sob. The fear of the unknown was beginning to get to you. Neteyam grabbed your hands and shh’ed you “Mawey, breathe” he said. You nodded, trying to catch your breath. after a minut or so, your mind was a little clearer, thought you still didn’t know how to break it to him. “I’m with child” you said, it slipped out before you could stop yourself. This time it was neteyam who froze. He hadn’t even thought about this possibility. A child. His world felt as if he stopped spinning. “Neteyam we are only 16 years of age, how can we- we’re not even mated” your mind raced faster than you could talk. You wondered how you had known longer than him and was still the most worried between the two of you, he looked deeply in thought. “Maybe we could still go through with it but in a traditional way” he spoke.

you looked at him in wonder, urging him to continue. ‘We could do the ceremony, I will court you and we will mate before you start to show. When the baby comes it will be ‘early’ but healthy” he explained. You were shocked at how quickly he was able to come up with an efficient plan on such short notice. “That could work, but are you sure you wan-“ “i want nothing more, i mean i never planned on a child this early but we could make it work” he said with full sincerity. You nodded “okay, we can do it, but we should probably speed the process” you said. He agreed, pulling you in for a hug, you relaxed in his arms for the first time in a week. You felt like you could breathe again. Everything was gonna be okay, not to mention your mother secretly liked neteyam, so if he was trying to court you she'd accept it. And your father would just want you to pick someone who could protect you and nobody was more trained for that than neteyam. “We’ll be okay” you said leaning your head into his chest. He answered with a “yes”

[logansobsession]

Intoxicating Desire

Pairings: Logan Howlett x fem! mutant reader

Summary: You and Logan have always been close friends, you knew everything about each other and did everything together. The only thing Logan doesn't do, is sit where your power is strongest: the greenhouse. Logan has never seen or heard about your power.

Word count: 4.8 K

Content Warnings: Explicit (18+ mdni), Smut, dirty thoughts, spitting, spicy tension, age gap, praising kink, no use of y/n, reader has ability to control plants and produce flowers from body, along with other flower related things, borderline sub!, teasing, choking.

A/N: This has been sitting in the back of my mind for the past week, I love me a weak Logan * cries out*. Something about his shell breaking and being putty in our hands makes ME turn to putty. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it.

The greenhouse. The place you go to find solace. Granted, it's the only place you can go to feel your powers fully. With being "graced" with the mutation to control plants, along with sprouting whatever you decide from your body.

The silence. The pure oxygen from the plants. It's otherworldly to you, keeping you chained there for hours, sometimes days. Most of your friends at the mansion know about your mutation. But, it's never spoken per your request. Everyone has such powerful mutations, spectacles of wonder and curiosity, then there's you. The plant girl.

You used to hate the mutation when you were shipped to the mansion at 16. Suppressing it any moment given. Charles spent hours upon hours with you, slowly teaching you to love and use the mutation in beautiful ways. Hank taught you how to control your frustrations and anger, which made it more difficult to control it. Scott... Scott didn't teach anything to you, he just enjoyed watching the show when you did use the mutation.

But Logan? He became your best friend, in the aspects of being your mentor. Taught you how to fight and defend yourself during hand to hand combat. He was there to offer a silent shoulder when you cried about boys, to hanging out with you. In fact, you guys hung out everywhere. Until Charles had the greenhouse built for you shortly after turning 18.

Logan never came to visit you when you would hole yourself up for hours. Nobody did really. The only person that visited you was Hank, but he couldn't handle the humidity as well as you did.

Today was humid, but rain pouring down as if the gods were crying. Which meant you would receive no visitors. The constant assault of rain upon the see through roof provided a lulling background noise, it was almost calming enough to let you rest there.

Logan was walking around the halls, bored out of his mind, he didn't have anything to do so he decided to try and find something or someone to cure his boredom with. He turned the corner and began to approach the greenhouse.

You stood in front of a rose bush, trimming any dead or sick leaves and stems from the bush. The rain was a constant sound, almost drowning out the sound of Logan's knocking before entering the greenhouse.

He stood at the entrance to the greenhouse, peering in at you, watching you for a moment before deciding to interrupt you.

"Hey." He said in a gruff voice.

You jumped in surprise, clutching at your heart before smiling.

"Hey! You finally visiting? Or is it too hot in here for you?"

"Too hot?" He raised a questioning eyebrow and shut the door behind him, the temperature in the room didn't seem to bother him at all.

"Seems fine in here to me."

You nod and laugh "Most of them don't enjoy being in here because it gets fairly humid. I think the rain cooled it down a significant amount today." as you gesture to the roof with the plant trimmers before resuming your task.

"Eh, I've been through worse." He shrugged, slowly drawing closer to you, looking over your shoulder to see what you were doing.

You smile again, continuing your work. "I'm cutting any sick or dead stems from the bush. Keeps the plant itself from getting sick or dying."

You look over your shoulder at him. "Would you like a stool? I usually keep one nearby incase Hank or Scott come to visit."

"Nah, I'm fine." He insisted, as he leaned against the wall, he continued to watch you as you worked, he wasn't all that interested in what you were doing with the plant; he was more interested in you to be honest, he'd just never come to check on you as he usually avoided the greenhouse.

"Alright, suit yourself." You shrug your shoulders before doing a final check on the bush, ensuring you didn't leave any behind. You take a step back and smile at your work.

"Now that's a healthy rose bush if I do say so myself." You walk back to the center of the greenhouse, a midsize willow tree surrounded by stone bricks. You sit down on the stone and pat the empty spot next to you.

He watched you as you sat down and pat next to you, beckoning him to sit with you. Logan pushed himself off the wall and stalked over to you, taking a seat next to you. Even sitting down he still dwarfed you in both size and stature, he leaned against the trunk of the tree but still turned his head to look at you, with an eyebrow raised.

You stare up at the willow, and smile. As you're looking up, you say "Isn't it beautiful? Charles picked the location of the green house for the sole purpose of this willow. It's soothing in a way. Branches drooping, almost sad in a constant melancholy state."

He also looked up at the willow, and he had to agree that it was beautiful. As he watched the branches sway, he also noticed the way that they seemed to droop, as if they were sad.

"It does have a calming presence to it." He agreed as he sat by your side, watching the willow.

You break your gaze from the willow, bringing it to Logan. "So how come you never come to the greenhouse? I'm almost always in here. Granted, no one likes the plant loving mutant and her weird fascination with plants, so I don't blame any of you."

He turned his face to look at you, he thought for a moment in whether he should be fully honest with you or not. He let out a sigh before speaking.

"It's not that I have anything against you, I just ain't a big fan in spending a whole lot of time around plants, or inside for that matter."

You nod your head, listening to him as he spoke. You pat your hands against your lap before you stood in front of him "Do you actually think I'm a mutant... like you?" you say as you place your hands on your hips.

Logan raised an eyebrow curiously as you asked the question. What a strange and out of the blue question to ask, he thought to himself as he looked up at you. He also noticed a shift in your tone. So leaned back against the willow and took a moment to think about his answer, before responding, "If I had to make a guess... I'd think you're a mutant."

You nod your head and smile. "That is correct. But my mutation isn't anything special. So I never use it." You shrug before picking up the trimmers and walk over to a patch of lilacs.

He continued to watch you as you moved over to a different plant. He stood up and followed you to the patch of lilacs. " Why don't you use it? You've been here for years, and I've never seen you do anything different?"

You get down on your knees and slowly start your work on the lilacs "Well it doesn't serve any real purpose, so I don't use it. I'm not a show off like some people in the mansion." You turn your head up at Logan and smile innocently.

He chuckled at your response, "No, you're too sweet to be that kind of person." A thought suddenly crossed his mind, he looked down at the lilacs as you worked on them.

"May I ask you something?"

You smile wider at Logan's compliment and turn your head back to the lilacs "Of course, I'm an open book. You can ask me anything."

He watched you for a moment as you continued to work. He paused for a moment, he was suddenly feeling a bit nervous but he didn't show outward signs of it. "So, what exactly is your mutation then?"

You let out a small sigh and slowly stand up. You walk back to the willow, setting the trimmers down. " I'm a little rusty, it's not something I do often, so bear with me." You say, brushing your hands off on your apron. "Come here" You hold out your hand for Logan to come near.

He watched you as you finished up and put the trimmers down. He raised an eyebrow in curiosity as you held out your hand and gestured for him to come closer. He hesitantly stepped closer towards you.

"Come closer...I need you closer for this." You wave him to come closer. You shake your arms and shoulders, growing nervous as to if you can even do it anymore. You smile and wink at Logan, " This is my favorite party trick. But I save it for special people."

He watched you as you stood in front of him with a nervous smile. He raised his eyebrow as you said it was a "party trick". Still, he was more than intrigued to know what exactly what your trick was. He stepped even closer to you, standing in front of you.

You place your hands softly on Logan's chest, over his heart. I looked up at him, " I need you to think about something or someone you care about or love. Whatever it may be. Okay?" You raise your eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

He took a sharp breath as you placed your hands on his chest. He felt his heart rate pick up as you did so. He looked down at you, noticing you had gotten closer to him. He nodded, he had someone in his mind.

"Alright. I got what I need in mind."

Logan watched in surprise as the green house began to change around the both of you, as vines and branches creeped up the glass walls, making it much darker inside than it was before. He looked up at the roof and saw it covered in vines and branches. He watched as vines slowly crept down, blooming into long tufts of wisteria. He looked back down at you, he was shocked to see you exerting this kind of power. He'd never expected it from someone of your nature. Still, he kept his mouth shut, eager to see what you'd do next.

You let out a ragged breath, searching for any more power you had. Slowly, hues of pinks and purples erupted from your hair. Tiny flowers blossomed, framing your face perfectly. You open your eyes, breathing hard and smiling. Your hands still resting on Logan's chest as you say "Like my party trick?" You look around at the vines and flowers covering the inside of the greenhouse.

He was speechless, he looked around in awe at the greenhouse. Covered in vines, with wisteria everywhere. His eyes fell back down to you as you spoke. He looked over your face, noticing all the tiny flowers framing your pretty face. He blinked a few times in shock, until he finally came back to his sense and spoke, his voice slightly shaky from the shock. "That's a pretty amazing party trick you have there."

You smile and gently remove your hands from Logan's chest. He remained in a daze, watching you pat his chest before removing your hands. You looked up at the ceiling, proud of the show you had put on for Logan, after not using your abilities in at least two years.

You reached up, grabbing a small tuft of wisteria, opening Logan's hand and placing the flower in his hand gently. He felt his heart skip a beat as you grabbed his hand, placing the flower there. He could feel butterflies in his stomach as you looked at him.

Your face grows warm before speaking up, " I do have one little more part of my mutation that I didn't tell you about."

Logan raise an eyebrow slightly at your words, listening intently as you spoke. You'd piqued his curiosity. A part of your mutation that you hadn't told him about? He found that interesting and honestly a bit annoying that you hadn't told him already.

"There's a part to your mutation that you haven't told me about? And what is that part, sweetheart?"

You smile, taking a step back so you could clearly see his face. "You know some flowers release a scent? An almost intoxicating scent that's alluring to the senses?"

He glanced after you as you stepped away from him, watching as you brought your hands to your sides. He nodded his head, already knowing where you're going with this. He was already realizing that you'd been holding something back from him. "Yeah, I know what you're talking about, why?"

You stay silent point to yourself, hoping he makes the connection. It took him a moment, but he soon caught on to what you were hinting at. And as soon as he had, he swore his knees almost buckled at the realization.

"You-your flowers do release a scent that's luring to the senses?"

You nod, "Some of them yes. As an extra boost. But Charles taught me to suppress my emotions and this because it acts as pheromone." You state. You take a few moments in silence. "Would you like to see what I mean?"

He didn't even have to think before nodding his head, he wanted to see un-suppress this little ability of yours, seeing the effects it'd have just out of pure curiosity. " Yeah, I'd like to see what you mean. Go on sweetheart go ahead and show me."

You sit down on the stone by the willow tree and close your eyes. You mentally unravel everything Charles had taught you. Slowly. But surely, a rainbow of colors blossomed within your hair and an intoxicating scent mixed with your pheromones.

Logan was absolutely mesmerized as he watched you sit down and close your eyes, watching in wonder as the normally subtle blossoms in your hair began to explode to an almost dazzling spectrum of colors. And as the intoxicating scent mixed your pheromones, he strange sort of need grow in his chest.

"Sweetheart... What are you doing to me..."

The scent grew stronger, becoming easily detected by the normal senses. It filled the green house, almost creating an invisible haze. The scent was slowly driving Logan crazy. His breathing was getting heavier in response to it, the smell being intoxicating like you had said. He felt something deep within him respond and almost beg for him to get physically closer to you.

"Fuck... darling...the smell... It's messing with me..."

You opened your eyes slowly while holding your breath and looked at Logan. You tilted your head in a way of saying "I told you so" before closing your eyes again and cutting off the scent from emanating any more. You stood up and walked back to Logan and smiled.

The moment you'd cut off the scent, he felt like he'd suddenly been doused in a bucket of cold water. He was suddenly able to actually get his bearings again, able to realize how strongly he'd been affected by you un-suppressing that part of your mutation.

"Jesus Christ... that scent was... something else.. I don't think I've ever felt that type of need for someone, sweetheart..."

You dramatically bow, and stand back up straight. " And that is why I spent four years training alone with Charles. All in the mind."

Logan chuckled softly, feeling amused at how dramatically you had bowed just to emphasize the effectiveness of the power you had just revealed. " Damn... I can't really blame Charles for spending that much time with you to make sure you'd be able to control it. If you could just let that loose, anytime, you'd have every single person in the mansion swooning over you in no time."

You look down at your hands momentarily, " That isn't it at the strongest, I know your heightened senses are probably raw from that little bit. I could show you, but if you need fresh air, I promise I won't be mad at you Logan."

As the scent of the flowers still lingered throughout the air, mixing with the subtle but still present smell of your pheromones. It was driving him insane, like a constant itch in the back of his mind, to just grab you and keep you close to him. "Darling I'm not going anywhere."

He hadn't completely regained control yet and he sure as hell wasn't going to leave you alone when he was still being affected by you. You look at him and nod, understanding. " I'll go somewhere where you can't hurt me and I can stop anytime that you want me to."

His breath hitched slightly at your question. His head was still clouded from the scent that had filled the green house and he couldn't think clearly enough to decide whether that would be a good idea or not. Something deep within him was still demanding and almost begging for him to get closer to you, to hold you in his arms. But he somehow managed to answer coherently

"You sure you want to do that sweetheart?"

"I want to show you what it's like if I went out on a field mission with you guys." You start speaking as you look at Logan. "I can't direct it yet at a single person, so if I use it against an enemy, it'll also affect the entire team."

Logan nodded as you spoke, listening intently. The strong scent still filled the air, his mind still in a haze. He was definitely tempted to get closer to you, but he managed to rein in his urges, barely..

"So that's why you can't actually go missions... it'll affect the team as well, not just the enemies.."

You nod your head "Yes. It's really the only useful and semi powerful thing in relation to my mutation..." You trail off, bringing your hand back to Logan's chest. "Are you sure you want to go through it again?"

He was tempted to just wrap his arms around you the second you put your hand on his chest, feeling it like a jolt to his system that just further made it hard to think. But he managed to answer you again,

"Yeah. Go ahead, sweetheart. Let's see what happens."

"Stay right there and don't move" you say with a serious tone coating your voice. You walk over to the willow tree and begin climbing in.

You reach the part of the tree that has a groove, perfect for sitting, a place you commonly rested at. You sat yourself in a way that Logan could still see you, but still in a way that would prevent you from falling in case you fainted.

"And you're positive that you want to do this?"

Logan watched as you went and climbed the tree. He was definitely having to exert every last ounce of willpower and strength he had to follow your instructions and just stay where he was and not follow you up that damn tree. "Sweetheart, I'm positive. Go ahead and show me what you got."

You close your eyes and open your arms from your body. Flowers blossoming from your head, painting your arms in hues of pinks and purples. You slowly begin to smell the familiar scent you spent hours holding deep down, radiate from your skin. As your eyes are closed and focusing on your body, you softly say "This isn't full power... Are you okay?"

The moment he felt the scent return to the air and begin to permeate throughout the greenhouse, all control Logan had was gone; the scent completely taking over his mind within moments. All he could think about was getting up to you, how perfect you would fit in his arms, and how much he just wanted to get close and touch you. But he tried to answer you in a coherent way. "Yeah... I'm fine... keeping going.."

You take a deep breath and let your mind and body begin to take over. You mentally go to a different place as the scent grows unbearably strong. Your body begins to sweat, beads of sickly sweet sweat rolling from your face down onto your cleavage. The sweat creates an even more pungent aroma that mingles with the scent within the greenhouse.

Logan's breathing was becoming shakier with every second that passed, feeling the scent grow even stronger and that mixed with the beads of sweat slowly making their way down your body was driving him absolutely insane. He was still having to exercise every ounce of self control to not follow you up the damn tree, desperately fighting against the overwhelming urge to just grab you and make you his.

"Oh...God... sweetheart you're making this so damn goddamn hard..."

It's been so long since you've let go like this, the release of pent up energy felt good, too good. You lean back hard, back connecting with the thick tree branch as the scent rolls off of you in thick, aggressive waves, as your self control whittles down to nothing.

He was at the very edge of his willpower by this point, the scent was so damn strong now and the sight of you lean back, sweat rolling down your body was taking every ounce of control he had away.

"Fuck...sweetheart you're going to send me over the edge... I swear to God I'm gonna completely lose it if you go anymore..."

Logan's voice sounding further away as you drift away from the control you had spent years precising. You knew deep down that you would have to go back to working with Charles, but in the very moment, it felt soothing to finally lose control.

Logan couldn't think clearly at all by this point, the scent that filled the air and the sight of your body, sweat beginning to soak your camisole, were driving him past the brink of sanity.

"God... Sweetheart... I can't hold back anymore.. I'm gonna do something...I'm warning you now"

You relish in the feeling of release, realizing that it needs to be done more than not doing it at all. Flowers and thin vines erupting from your hands, crawling and wrapping slowly around the tree; creating more open pockets to release the intoxicating aroma.

That was it.

You relishing in the release and the sight of the vines and flowers from your hands, wrapping around the tree was the last straw for Logan. He couldn't hold back anymore and as such, he gave in to the urge, not caring anymore.

"God DAMN it... I warned you." He let out a growl as he quickly ran towards the tree.

You laid there in uncontrolled bliss, too far off of the edge on control to reel it back in. Logan quickly jumped, using every ounce of his strength to scale the tree and get up to where you were, looking absolutely feral as he approached you, where you were sitting in the small groove of the tree.

"Oh sweetheart... look at you... you look like an absolute mess.. like a damn vision sitting up here... a vision that's mine to touch."

You barely feel Logan's body heat as your senses are far more defined than before. But all control of this has been lost and you lay there deep within your mind.

He quickly crowded towards you, leaning over you slightly as you sat there in a sort of half dazed state in the tree. He was feeling very, very possessive of you in this moment, seeing you with sweat coating your body; flowers and vines from your hands wrapping around the tree, and that scent of yours filling the air.

"God you're so damn perfect like this, so damn gorgeous.. so damn mine to touch..."

The lull of release temporarily becomes bearable and you slowly come back to your mind, scent still radiating from your body. You open your eyes and see Logan leaning over you, eyes dark and filled with desire.

He was looming over you, body almost fully caging you to the trunk of the tree. Eyes dark, nothing but lust and wild with possessiveness as he looked down on you, seeing you slowly start to come back to your senses. He couldn't help but take in the sight of you, practically drenched in sweat and flowers, sitting there in a half-dazed state of release at his touch. "There you are... look at you doll... a complete mess..."

You hazily smiled, closing your eyes once again, more vines erupting from your hands, slowly slinking around Logan, tying him in place all while pulling him closer. You whisper to him gently "I told you it's a lot."

Logan tried to bite back a moan as he was suddenly enveloped by the vines from your hands, feeling them wrap around his arms and legs, pulling him even closer until he was fully pressed against you, completely at your mercy.

"Doll... you're killing me here.. you feel so damn good..."

You look at him through half-lidded eyes, whispering "You doing okay?"

He nodded quickly at your question, feeling like his body had never been more alive and on fire than right then. Being all tied up by the vines from your hands, being held so close against you, the aroma of flowers and the sweat from your body being absolutely overpowering...

"Yeah... I'm doing more than okay sweetheart.."

A vine slowly snaked up Logan's back and around his neck, wrapping itself firmly around his neck as more flowers blossomed, releasing the aroma right underneath his nose.

He practically saw stars as the vine began to wrap around his neck, flowers releasing more of the damn intoxicating scent and completely scrambling his mind even more. He let out an almost guttural sounding moan at the intense feeling, the vines and scent making it increasingly difficult to think.

"God... sweetheart.. that feels so goooood...."

You close your eyes once more, controlling the vines wrapping Logan, pulling him face to face with me. The vine grips at Logan's neck again, you open your eyes again and smile. " Told you it's powerful.." You whisper against his lips.

Logan looked completely feral with how he practically on the verge of losing it as you pulled his face even closer, the vine around his neck tugging again, making the sensation even more intense. He let out a guttural moan again at how good it felt being wrapped up and completely within your power, being so close to your face with your lips just barely touching his.

" God sweetheart... you're insane."

You open your mouth just barely, dragging your tongue against Logan's bottom lip before bringing it into your mouth, biting and tugging at it before releasing it. "Tell me what you want to do to me Logan...please."

Logan practically whimpered at that, the feeling of your tongue against his bottom lip and you biting and tugging was more intense than he really expected it to be, driving him insane. He let out another guttural moan as you released his lip, feeling completely under your control as he managed to answer

"I want.. want to touch you.. kiss you.. feel your bare skin against mine.. just have you completely."

A low hum radiates from your throat as you bite Logan's bottom lip again, harder and drawing blood from his lip. "Tell me what you want to do to my body Logan."

He let out another moan as you bite his lip again, drawing blood. It hurt, but he couldn't focus on the pain as the feeling being tangled and held by the vines and being held so damn close you was overwhelming.

"God..I'm..I'm gonna kiss your body all over.. gonna feel your skin.. gonna devour every damn inch of you and make you mine..."

You hum again, "Tell me you're mine... tell me you'll be mine to use and play with whenever my little heart desires Logan.."

He let out a moan at the hum you gave him, feeling more and more like he was yours to use and play with. His primal side was fully taking over at this point as he answered.

" God yes... I'm yours sweetheart, I'm all yours.. I'll be yours to use and play with whenever your damn little heart pleases..."

You close your eyes, tightening the vine around Logan's neck even more "Good boy..." You whisper, praising him.

Logan let out another moan as the vine around his neck was tightened even more, his breathing becoming even more labored as it took him everything he had to answer you. His mind completely fogged over by how this felt, being so completely captured by you, completely at your mercy.

"God... yes... I'm your good boy.. please sweetheart... don't stop... keep going.. I'm all yours..."

[pressureplus]

HEYA HELLO HI

first, i want to genuinely thank you guys for the account's existence and your hard work. reading through the posts is often the highlight of my bleak days, and im immensely grateful for you providing those moments of joy :]

SECOND UH ID LIKE TO ORDER A SPECIFIC KINDA HEADCANONS LIST IF NO ONE MINDS AND IT HASN'T BEEN WRITTEN ALREADY ALRIGHT YEAH

a nonbinary reader who is pretty similar to Seb's stubborn, independent and sassy persona but WOMP WOMP, they're suddenly head over heels for him. NEITHER WANTS TO ACKNOWLEDGE THE FEELINGS (aka "HE'S FUCKING MARRIED, IT'S NOT MUTUAL AND IM BUSY WITH NOT DYING, BUT I CANT GET HIM OUT OF MY HEAD" & "I HAVE A WIFE AND THEY'RE JUST SOME EXPENDABLE BASTARD, GET OVER IT, SOLACE"). the distracting, unnecessary, painful pining. how do both cope and who's gonna break first? and most importantly, is either gonna throw their ego and rationality out the window to confess despite the fear of looking pathetic?

oooof i hope it's not too much and it's not breaking any rules. thank you in advance if you find it interesting enough for writing! :D

Awww, thanks so much! Although I should make it very clear the wife in question will remain vague and is NOT BASED ON ANYONE! Thanks for the request ❤️

♡Married! Sebastian Solace x NB! Similar! Reader Headcannons♡

Warnings: Sebastian is Married and Y/N is technically an Affair Partner

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

He had found you interesting from the moment you opened your mouth and got sassy with him, mostly because most people don't have the balls to do it

Despite finding this slightly irritating, he also found it refreshing, so he didn't immediately shoot you if only for his own entertainment

A terrible mistake he'd soon find out

He developed some definitely unhealthy feelings the first time one of your comebacks had an almost flirtatious undertone

It was an accident on your part, but it got him thinking

He was a married man fawning quietly over you, how awful is that?

I mean of course he’s flashed the wedding band, and of course he's mentioned his wife when others flirt with him, but that doesn't change his feelings

If you flirted with him, would he really reject you?

Could he?

He hadn't known the touch of his wife in years, the softness of her hands, the warmth of her kisses

After everything that's happened he couldn't even remember her name. He should be able to remember his wifes name right?

Does he really even care about her? Does he love her now? Did he love her then?

It comes with an odd sense of guilt he doesn't like to look at. Especially when you do something that makes his heart flutter.

You, on the other hand, probably didn't develop any real feelings until he actually saved your ass.

You'd been running for your life and he’d snatched you up and into the vents, tossing you easily into his shop and shutting it behind you

His gaze transfixed on said vent, a hand on his gun. Something about him choosing to save your life while also putting up with your attitude was a little attractive…

Okay, insanely attractive

Sure, Sebastian’s guilt for being attracted to you is bad, but so is yours

You’re attracted to a married man who has absolutely gushed about his wife in front of you before. Even if it was only because someone tried to get a little flirty, what does that matter?

Honestly the mutual attraction makes it hard for you both to focus

Everything about that man is intoxicating, his smile, his laugh, his attitude. Can you really be judged for this?

Neither of you can focus on anything but each other whenever you’re both in a room.

It’s led to Sebastian getting surprised whenever another person buys something off him because he had no idea anyone else was in here

Its also led to you freaking out whenever one of the other expendable touches your shoulder without you having realized anyone was standing behind you

You hide it well…at least you hope you do?

The longing glances and quiet staring on both sides is unbearable though

Especially considering you’re both making those dolly eyes at each other, batting lashes and daydreaming

It’s cute but it’s also incredibly wrong of you two and you’re painfully aware of it

No amount of sharing food and acting like it’s not a date will make it less of a date

He’s already long since decided that he’s going to offer you come with him so you both can leave together

And though neither of you will have the heart to confess for quite a while, I think he’d do it on your way out. Something about you almost dying when you both escape makes him desperate to tell you how he really feels

When that ‘I think I’m in love with you’ slips out while he’s bandaging your arm that’s been cut by glass, how can you refuse?

Especially when you’re in love with him too?

He’ll toss that ring into the ocean once you reach the surface, his wife never loved him like you did anyway

[kanmom51]

Are you sure? Jeju - Episode 4

The Pool

Honey's I'm back. Been to the edge of Australia, literally, and back.

Finally watched the episode, and oh boy, there is so much to break down, isn't there.

I won't lie, I've seen so much talk about EVERYTHING here on Tumblr and on X, and I really am joining this party super late. But I will be posting here for the fun of it, cause it's never enough, right? And also maybe I can bring some of the moments together, for points to be made, Idk. I just hope I can manage to get some posts done before the next episode drops, cause there is really so much to unravel here.

Out of everything that went down I thought I'd start with JM and JK's pool party fest.

They return from dinner, where they let Tae know he's a guest on THEIR show once again (and I mention this just because those two just don't stop reminding us and him of said fact, lol) and decide to go into the pool to cool down.

JK looked like he needed a bit of cooling down when JM was undressing next to him.

It was just the two of them, Tae not joining.

JK is in first and JM following, entering and moving towards JK with a LOOK on his face. A LOOK that had JK finding the need to remind JM that the pool wall was glass and see through.

There is no way under the sun that JM's intentions were pure at this moment.

NO WAY!!!

JK knew it.

You gotta be daft not to see it, especially with that man's reaction to JK's comment.

And it's funny, cause it's not like JM didn't see that glass pool wall before. It was just JK's need to remind him off it that makes it so much clearer he was up to no good, lol.

Did you notice how the footage cuts at that moment? I guess we are already used to these cuts, right? There are PLENTY of them in this episode as well. Don't get me started on the before shower, during shower and after shower that night, lol.

Right after that cut we go into Jikook playful mode.

We don't know just how much time they spent in that pool, but we got close to 4 minutes of it. Clearly they were there for some time, we got to see some highlights. The PG version of them playing around in the pool.

It amazes me every time when I see just how in sync those two are with each other. And we got to see it here as well. I mean, we saw it right through the episode. Remember in part 2 of my Jikook in bed (AYS CT) when I mentioned JK was just being with JM when he was just resting his head on JM's thigh? Well, I believe that word is so appropriate for this episode as well.

BEING

Just the two of them.

Even with Tae there with them, it was just them being with each other. With the mundane and everyday stuff.

It's the checking in on each other (for example when JK was getting excited over the food in the Japanese restaurant and JM checks in on him, or when he hits his fist on the table in the chicken restaurant and again, JM checking in on him, or JK just rubbing JM's thigh in the restaurant in episode 3 knowing he's not feeling the best).

It's the making joint decisions - what to eat, when to eat, what to do, when to go to sleep.

It's the calmness. Just calmness in their interactions.

It's them knowing what the other is feeling or meaning, at times without even speaking.

It's them playing around with each other when others don't even understand what's going on (Tae on the boat not getting their playfulness or sense of humor).

It's their constant hyping each other up or complimenting each other.

It's them finding solace in each other.

It's them cuddling watching the sunset.

It's them finding figures in the clouds and drawing them.

It's them hugging while snorkeling.

It's them seeking each other out while snorkeling, wanting to share the experience with the other, share the fun.

It's them sharing their solo music and choreo with each other before it comes out. Spending their time talking about each other's singing and dancing.

It's them being super flirty and talking with underlying innuendos through out their conversations.

It's them just BEING with each other.

I will most likely be writing much more about this, probably small posts with these special moments, but I just had to mention this here as well. Because this here, their time in the pool, was one of those moments as well.

They just click.

And it's so damn loud just how special they are with each other, how different they are with each other.

Saying that is not about diminishing what they have with the other members, because we all know just how close they are with each other, all 7 of them. They are bandmates, they are good friends, they love each other. But let's be realistic here, with all of that, the level of their friendships, the depth of their relationships with each and every one of the other members varies. it's just how it is. Real life, you know. And saying that JM and JK's connection is different and showing how it's different does not diminish from their connections with the others, it just highlights THEM.

And as such, I don't cower away from making these comparisons, because they are part of what screams that the two are a couple. There are things you do with your significant other you don't with your good friend. There are ways you behave with said significant other that you won't with your good friend. There are things you will allow your significant other do to you, do with you, that you won't allow with a good friend. It's the way you communicate with your significant other, things you say, things you don't say, things you don't need to say, tones you use, all of which you don't do with a friend, no matter how good of a friend they are. That's life. No reason to shy away from that just because there are some people that will take it the wrong way.

JM and JK in the pool was just that.

When you know you know.

They were playing games with each other.

Btw, I'm gonna say it even though you have all probably noticed this already, but JK, he doesn't push JM in that game. Not one time. And it reminds me of previous times they've done this.

More games.

then for Tae's benefit.

They were being playful with each other.

They were having fun with each other, just BEING.

Doing THEIR thing.

Jjust clicking.

Being absolutely the cutest EVER possible.

And they can't be Jikook without their signature "You are me I am you", right?

This whole sequence reminded me of the last time we got to catch their late night playfulness. You know, the whole mosquito net debacle, lol.

Only this time there was no alcohol involved and they fully aware of the cameras filming them, lol.

And before all those that happen to be lurking here waiting for me to say something to latch onto start celebrating "she said it", I say calm your farm, because NO SHE DID NOT. Them knowing the cameras are there and having fun TOGETHER, at times posing for the cameras, hence doing it for us to see, takes absolutely NOTHING from it being an authentic and spontaneous interaction.

I can't believe that I actually have to explain this.

Did I mention how many times those two reminded Tae and us that he's a guest on THEIR show?

"The guest is coming"...

"He must be bored and wanting attention"...

"He must be lonely..."

And this is for our benefit? Or their own, perhaps, lol.

"He's the guest... guests can comb their hair...guests should be pretty..."

And then the editors chime in as well.

I guess it was super important to drive this point right home just in case there were those that still didn't get it.

This show, it's JM and JK's. Period.

Tae = guest.

And he is sure going to be reminded of that by both of them throughout the trip. He is, and so are we.

And what about JK leaving the pool only to jump in again ("it's cold") to climb out again with JM?

Again, one of those "we do things together" of theirs.

All in all, the episode was friggin amazing. If there was anyone who for some reason (delusions, for one) thought that Tae being there with them will take away from us seeing just how JIKOOK those two were, or that JK would show his undying love for his husband and father of his children (🤮🤮) that sure was a hell of a rude awakening for them.

The interactions were as clear as day. And very telling. As per usual and as I had said in the past, if anything then JM is the axis with JK and Tae circling him, biding for his attention, JK knowing everything there is to know about JM while Tae needing to say just how much he knows JM. And if we're on the subject of Tae wanting to tell us just how much he knows JM, what we also got to see is just how much Tae and JK don't know about each other (Tae not knowing JK doesn't drink sweet drinks before eating or JK not knowing that Tae has been struggling with sleep lately), again, as a stark difference to JM and JK's abundance of it (JM knowing JK hadn't slept on the flight back prior to their trip, JM singing 3D).

I have so much more to say, but I'm going to stop right here, leave some more to talk about later.

[noahsmuse]

second chance?

✮ PAIRING: noah sebastian x reader

✮ REQUEST: “Can I request a second chance romance one shot? Like in 2020 - 2021 the reader and Noah were dating and they break up for [insert reason] but they run into each other at the BMTH concert in 2024 or something and one thing leads to another suddenly they you know, hooked up and Noah doesn't want it to be a one night stand with her soooooo you can go from there.”

✮ A/N: sorry for the recent inactivity but now, i’m BACKKKK! continue sending in requests for me to write & hope you all like this fic ≧'◡'≦

everything seemed picture perfect between you two. the makeshift dates and the candle-lit dinners that would be hosted in his dining room with dinner that you both made, and just when you thought that the pair of you were full from dinner he was usually still hungry….but for something else (you). in a world of what seemed to be chaos, you found solace within each other.

until, the time came that heavy pandemic restrictions were slowly being lifted and Bad Omens was scheduled their first tour back to be openers for In This Moment and Ice Nine Kills. going from seeing noah almost every single day to barely hearing from him was a very intense switch that put a strain on your relationship since communication was such a huge trait for the two of you.

knowing this would probably only get worse as they’re gonna get busier and continue going on tour. even though you two loved each other to the ends of the earth, when he came back you both made the decision to break up but still remain friends to avoid any heartbreak or miscommunication.

this brings us back to present day, it’s been three years since you’ve broken up with noah. you both talk occasionally and send the usual happy holidays and birthday messages but haven’t actually seen each other face to face since the break up.

one day you hear your phone going off like CRAZY, you managed to find out that one of your girlfriends was able to get pit tickets for a Bring Me The Horizon concert happening in your city. prior to these messages from your friends, you had zero idea they were coming to your town and who would be with them, but decided why not go and have some fun!!!

the day that you and your friends have been so estatic about finally comes around, you’re all dressed to the nines, wearing your sexiest but comfortable attire that perfectly matches the mood for the concert. since the adrenaline is pumping throughout your friend groups veins, all of you decide to make it to the venue just early enough to secure the merch that you’ve had your eye on and your spots for barricade.

after waiting for a few hours, the doors of the venue open and everyone runs while holding each others hands to make it right in the center of barricade with a perfect view of the stage.

around an hour goes by, you still have no idea who the openers will be until the crew of the band lowers down a tapestry with a name that sounds very familiar to you….’Bad Omens’, and that’s when it clicks in your head that your ex boyfriend’s band is an opener for the tour. obviously you don’t wanna seem like an obsessive person to him but you’re literally sitting front row, right in the center, so there’s definitely no way that you could hide.

as soon as you start trying to think up of a plan to make sure noah doesn’t see you in the crowd, the lights abruptly go dark and small vibrations rumble through the ground of the arena with jolly, one of noah’s best friends and roommates comes out right in front of you playing the riffs of a song that you learn is called artificial suicide from their newest album (one that you also learn you were the muse for a couple of songs on the record), ‘The Death Of Peace Of Mind.’

even though you didn’t really know the words to their newer work since you’ve only really heard the demos and songs from the band’s first two records, you can help but feel proud for how far they’ve come knowing that noah had expressed some doubts for the record with you during your time together.

while watching the show, you constantly had a feeling that you were being watched…but when you looked up at the stage, you found the front-man of the band gazing off in your direction.

nothing really happened between you two when they were performed besides noah staring at you while singing a couple of songs which you presumed were about you. the rest of the show goes on, you and your friends have the time of your lives screaming your favorite songs on the top of your lungs. when the show was over just as you were about to leave ash, noah’s trainer and bad omens new security caught your attention saying they’d like to invite you backstage so you decide why, not ! after all you and noah are still friends even though he was the only love you regret breaking things off with.

ash guides you in the direction of the Omens’ green room when you notice someone standing in the distance. as you both get closer to the room, you soon realize that this person is actually just noah who asked ash to bring you backstage so the two of you could “catch up.”

which led to noah bringing you back to his hotel room and ending up laying beneath you, fiercely rolling your hips against his with some help provided by him thrusting into you. moans and grunts spill from you guys’ lips, getting closer and closer to your release….right when you grind on his dick hitting your sweet spot perfectly, feeling pure ecstasy wash over the both of you as he holds your hips down so he can fill up your pussy with his cum.

just as noah wakes up in the morning, he remembers everything that happened last night. looking down at you still asleep with the sun peaking through the blinds and shining on your gorgeous face is when the realization hits him…he can’t let you go again.

meanwhile, you just woke up, not really remembering where you were or what happened but when you looked down to see you wearing one of noah’s shirts and then back up to see his smiling handsome face. which brings back all the memories from a few years ago, it felt like nothing changed…”we should talk” breaks you away from your thoughts (aka, regrets for even breaking up with him)…

the conversation ended with you two walking out into the lobby of the hotel they were staying in, holding noah’s hand with the biggest, lovesick smiles on your faces to hear someone yell “FINALLY!” in the distance. (it was a combination of jolly and matt who were celebrating seeing you two together)

[nayziiz]

Disturbed | OP81

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader (she/her)

Author's note: I'm trying something a little bit different with shorter form fics, so please send through any requests or feedback. These one shots will likely not have a second part unless it really speaks to me to continue with it. Thank you!

Masterlist

In the high-stakes world of motorsports, where the roar of engines drowned out all other sounds and the smell of burning rubber hung heavy in the air, Oscar stood as a beacon of unwavering determination. His name was synonymous with calm and resilience, his reputation forged on the anvil of countless hard-fought battles on-track and defying odds by helping keep his team in the running for third in the Constructors Championship. From the moment he first strapped himself into the driver's seat, Oscar had possessed an indomitable spirit that seemed impervious to the twists and turns of the race track.

Race after race, he pushed himself and his car to the very limit in pursuit of glory. Whether navigating treacherous hairpin turns or duelling wheel-to-wheel with his rivals, Oscar never backed down from a challenge. His resolve was unyielding, a relentless force that propelled him forward, even in the face of seemingly insurmountable obstacles.

But for all his unwavering determination, there were moments when he faltered too. It was on one particularly gruelling race day that the cracks in his armour began to show. Everything seemed to conspire against him – mechanical issues, strategic missteps, and a relentless onslaught of bad luck. Each setback chipped away at his confidence, threatening to unravel the very fabric of his resolve.

As the race wore on and Oscar's fortunes continued to decline, a sense of despair settled over him like a suffocating blanket. Doubt crept into his mind, gnawing away at his confidence and sowing seeds of uncertainty. For the first time in his career, he found himself teetering on the brink of defeat, his once unshakable resolve shaken to its core.

Amidst the chaos of the pit lane and the cacophony of roaring engines, there was one constant that anchored Oscar's fraying sanity – her. She was the quiet strength in his corner, the steady presence that never wavered, no matter how tumultuous the storm. Her belief in him was unwavering, a beacon of light cutting through the darkness of doubt.

With each passing lap, she mumbled quiet prayers in the garage. She was his rock, his anchor in the storm, her unwavering support a lifeline in his darkest hour. And though he struggled to find solace in the midst of defeat, he knew that as long as she stood by his side, he would never truly be alone.

As the chequered flag finally fell and the race came to an end, Oscar found himself staring down the bitter taste of defeat. But in the arms of the one who had stood by him through it all, he discovered a glimmer of hope amidst the wreckage of his shattered dreams.

“Oscar, listen to me,” she said, her voice cutting through the chaos of the post-race pit lane like a beacon of clarity. “I know things didn’t go as planned, but you've got this. You've faced tougher challenges before, and you've always come out on top. This is just another step to reaching the top.”

He glanced over at her, his eyes searching for reassurance in the midst of his turmoil.

“But what if this time is different? What if I've finally met my match?” he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

She reached out and gently took his hand, her touch a comforting presence in the midst of his turmoil.

“You're Oscar Piastri,” she said, her voice unwavering. “You're one of the most talented drivers out there, and nothing – not even a bad race – can change that. You have the skill, the determination, and the heart to overcome anything that comes your way.”

In the aftermath of defeat, Oscar realised that his strength did not lie solely in his ability to conquer adversity, but in his capacity to accept defeat with grace and humility. And though the road ahead may be fraught with challenges, he knew that as long as she stood by his side, he would always find the courage to carry on. For in her unwavering support, he found the resilience to rise from the ashes of defeat and chase his dreams once more.

[animehideout]

Hello!! can you do a gojo x reader and like gojo is always on a lot of trips to kill curses and stuff and everytime he comes back home all he wants to do is just sleep with you and it starts making you think he only wants you for your body but she just keeps that thought to herself cuz she thought if she tells gojo he might end their relationship untill something happens and she finally breaks down leaving gojo to comfort her

Please and thank you!

My One And Only

Gojo Satoru x Fem! Reader ( Reader thinks Gojo is using her for her body )

a/n: thank you anon for this request, I really hope you enjoy this one. And remember guys, don't bottle up your feelings, talk it out , communication is the key <33 love y'all and stay safe.

Warnings 🔞: SMUT NSFW MDNI / NOT PROOFREAD.

Song recommendation: I'll Be Good - Jaymes Young 🎶

♪I never meant to start a fire, I never meant to make you bleed.. I'll be a better man today♪

You sat on your bed, clutching your phone tightly after reading a message from your boyfriend, Gojo Satoru: { Get ready for me, princess. I can't wait till I get home and have you all to myself, all night }.

The words, the familiar message, never seemed to change. While you longed for a more thoughtful, romantic message, disappointment crept in every time you unlocked your phone. You understand his busy schedule and duty as the strongest sorcerer, exorcising curses and protecting others, but what about your feelings? Who protects them?

He's often away on trips, since the higher-ups depend on him for everything. You've always taken pride in his skills and capabilities, that earned the trust of others, making the world feel safer with his presence. But, your bed remains cold, your house feels empty, and he's not physically present when you're sad, need to vent, or simply want to share a laugh. The persistent feeling of loneliness creeps in, filling your mind with unwanted thoughts. Each night concludes with a heavy sigh, as you find solace in cuddling your pillow, questioning the nature of your relationship with him.

You meet once a week, you'd eagerly set the scene for cozy moments ; snuggling, watching a movie, going on a date, or simply chilling and talking. Yet, it always veers into having sex. You love him and want him as much as he wants you but you can't help the disappointment you've felt

“Is he using me?”,

the same thought echoes in your mind week after week. You wanted to communicate your feelings, but the words linger unspoken at the tip of your tongue, always swallowed back, completely offering yourself to him.

Night fell swiftly, the clock ticked so fast, and there you were sat on your bed, half naked, waiting like he told you. You could have refused, but you simply didn't. you missed him and craved the way he touches you, the way he makes you scream his name, the way your eyes tear up from how good and deep he's pounding inside you. The way air gets stuck in your throat when his big veiny hands circle around your delicate neck. You wanted every bit of it, there's no denying in that.

The front door swung open and closed, signaling Satoru's arrival. Your heart quickened, anticipation the long night that waited ahead

“Hey, baby..” he began,

placing his keys on the nightstand and giving you a peck. You managed a weak smile.

“Did you miss me?” he added, stripping himself. “Come on, join me for a shower and help me wash up”.

He gently pulled you towards the bathroom.Your back was pressed to his chest, as he left a trail of kisses on your shoulders and the back of your neck. The warm water relaxing each tensed muscle. You closed your eyes enjoying the sensation. The steam raising from the shower, created a gentle fog turning the bathroom into a cozy space. Too emersed into the cute moments of peace,

“Maybe tonight will be different, maybe he'll stay and won't leave after sex like he always does, saying that he needs to be at work again” you thought to yourself,

hoping that this night, he proves all what you've been overthinking for the last weeks in wrong, but shorty you were pressed against the bathroom wall, warm water still running. A surprised gasp left your mouth at the sudden movement. The cold wall that Gojo pinned you against sent shivers down your spine.

“I can't wait any longer” he whispered to your ear. He turned you and now you're chest hitting the wall, “bend over a bit for me, babygirl” he demanded, growing impatient by each passing second.

A groan escaped his mouth when your tighteness welcomed his hardened cock. A soft moan, slipped from your parted lips as he started moving. The rhythmic sound of water droplets echoed and mixed with the wet clapping sounds, and your moans. Your eyes rolled back, too needy for him as he fucked that spot again and again,

“I fucking love fucking you, I love fucking your body, this pussy is all what I can think about” he said panting.

Little did he know that what he said but turn you off so quickly. Your body, is it all what he wants? he didn't even say 'I love you', his sweet talk was all about what satisfied him, but enough,

“Can you stop please” you said out of the blue, making him look in confusion but kept on going,

“already tired? I've planned a long night for us..but if you want me to stop use your safe word” he chuckled.

“I SAID STOP” you snapped.

Under different circumstances, you'd find joy in his words. However, with all those unspoken emotions weighing on you, hearing him say something like that became your breaking point. He stood still, a hint of concern in his voice as he asked,

“D-did I do something wrong?” His hands rested on your hips from behind.

In that quiet moment, only the sound of the water stream filled the air before you spoke again,

“I don't want to continue, pull it out”.

“Hah is this some kind of joke? why on earth would I stop?”

“Because I don't want to”

“Dont lie to me Y/n, I know you want it, I won't pull out”

“Satoru...please” you said as you moved his hands from your hips.

His brows furrowed as he distanced himself from your body, pulling his length out of you, giving you what you requested. You cleaned yourself and then stepped out of the shower wrapped in your towel, while he observed silently.

Seated on the edge of your bed, you waited for him to join you.He carefully settled beside you, his gaze unwavering on your form.

“So, are you going to tell me why the hell you did that?” he asked, breaking the awkward silence.

Without meeting his eyes, you murmured, “Do you even love me, Satoru?” Your gaze remained fixed on the floor.

“What kind of question is this?”

“Just fucking answer it” you spat out in a harsh tone, catching him off guard.

“I do, of course I love you”

“Haha, funny. Why'd you lie? You just love my body, Satoru, don't you?”

“I love you and I love your body. Can you please explain it to me clearly? Cuz I failed to get your point”

“Oh is that so? okay then I'll explain to you, I'll explain to you how I've been feeling for weeks now, how I'm always left alone, how you always show up once a week, have sex with me and then leave as if I'm your fuck toy, I'll explain how you don't even care, cuz you only care about how to pleasure yourself... I'M NOT YOUR SLUT GOJO SATORU”You yelled.

Caught off guard by you, his blue eyes widened mirroring the disbelief that etched across his face. Your words hung in the air, leaving him momentarily speechless.

“A-are you serious?”

“YES I'M FUCKING SERIOUS, IF YOUR FEELINGS TOWARDS ME FADED THEN JUST SAY IT SATORU, BUT DON'T YOU DARE TO FUCK ME EVER AGAIN”

You broke down into tears, hugging your knees, wet hair falling on your face, chest still heavy even though you let out all of your concerns.

“No, no, don't cry, Y/n. Baby, look at me, please” he said softly, a hint of panic in his deep voice.

His fingers gently lifted your chin, making you meet his gaze. Kissing away your tears, he whispered,

“Don't ever think like this again. I love you, Y/n I always have and always will, and nothing can change that”

“Then why'd you leave? It feels like you throw me away everytime after getting what you wanted from me” you expressed with a quiver in your voice.

“I'm sorry if I made you feel that way. I never meant to hurt you. I was just scared they might harm you, which is why I minimized our dates”

“Who might hurt me?”

“The sorcerers working against me and the special grade curses. I would never forgive myself if something bad happened to you”

“You know I'll be fine. You don't need to overthink it like that. It's not even my point yet—”

“I know, I know, thats it's always us having sex? thinking that I'm taking advantage of your body? Why didn't you tell me earlier baby? We could've talked it out, I could've explained, we could've done something else... It's just that's how I express love to you, through physical intimacy. I thought you liked it, I thought you were enjoying it. That's why I didn't stop. And I'm sorry about that..” he whispered, looking down, visibly disappointed in himself.

Your gaze lingered on him; you believed him, of course, you just needed that reassurance.

“I thought if I told you you'd break up with me and leave–”

His heart ached, how could you possibly think of that when he loved you with each fiber in his body.

“L-leave you? my life is meaningless without you Y/n how could I ever leave you” he explained pain visible in his tone.

You shrugged, sniffling, looking at him with your teary eyes..

“Come here” he signaled for you to move closer.

His large arms enveloped you in a bear hug as you sat on his lap.

“I love you for you, for your personality, your mind, your laugh, for the way you find beauty in everything. I never meant to disappoint you, and it will never happen again. Next time, if something bothers you, just talk it out and don't bottle it up. I want you to be comfortable all the time, okay?” he exclaimed, kissing the top of your head.

You nodded slowly, further burying your head in his bare chest, your warm breath tickling his skin.

“How about we cuddle and watch your favorite movie? I'll take a day off tomorrow so we can spend more time together, and you're right; I shouldn't be overthinking that much. From now on, not gonna minimize any date, instead, I'll work harder on keeping you safe all the time...You're my one and only Y/n!!” he said with a wide smile, lifting your spirits once again.

You spent the night in each other's arm, eating popcorn and pastries, laughing and joking around, till both of you fell asleep... You indeed helped him learn how to treat you better, helped him express his love in other ways, helped him to take into account your feelings. Communication is all what both of you needed from the very beginning.

Satoru made a promise to you and to himself, to devote his life, strength and efforts to you and your relationship.

[gardenofnoah]

turn me like a beast / hold you to the floor

tags: nanami kento x reader, princess!reader, violence, injuries (minor), non-graphic descriptions of hunting, medium burn, sort of enemies to lovers but mostly scared strangers to unfortunate lovers, the fall of a dynasty, character death (sorry), reincarnation, bittersweet ending. mdni.

wc: 6.5k ish

notes: for @medusashima’s collab—indulging myself (and y’all) in my take on one of my favorite stories. i hope you like it 💘 this is based on the tale of the two fossils found wrapped up in each other in an unlikely pairing (which is made even better by the fact that it is not fiction and it happened!! love is real nerd!!). there’s a really phenomenal webtoon called burrow (by saige9) that makes me cry and that y’all should read immediately. anyway, enjoy. love u

summary: the world is at its end, and an unlikely pair finds solace in each other. to love is an animal thing.

it shocks you, how gentle a tug it takes to unravel everything that you were. only a thing between two others—before: a princess on a hill, the unraveling, and who you’ll be after.

your feet stomp clumsily over dirt and jagged rock—softened soles split open easily with each stride. but, ever your grandmother's frightened little rabbit, not even that searing pain is enough to thwart you in your descent down the hill—away from what is surely certain death. nothing but the animal need to survive pushing you forward—to get to whatever comes next.

it happened too fast—the only way a dynasty can fall to those privileged enough not to notice the slow decline of the society around them until it's too late. your family spoke of pockets of uprisings as if they were fictitious and theoretical—some grandiose, far away prediction of the old crone that haunted the village below your compound, and certainly not the men concealed by shade of trees that had been pruned by your family for centuries, salivating but patient for the perfect moment to strike.

and then they were dead. all of them but you.

a childhood of exploring the grounds of your family home proves useful in knowing without much thought which paths lead farthest from the carnage at your back, but your fright makes you uncoordinated—mechanical in your stride. the price to stop for even a second is far too high, and the hounds that howl after you in the dark serve as a constant reminder of the consequence of hesitation. so, bruised and bleeding, you keep on.

you run until your lungs threaten to collapse and then on farther. your feet carry you through unfamiliar wood, but in your rush, your brain rationalizes that the repercussions of trespassing cannot be much worse than what's behind you. and that seems to be the truth—right up until the real consequence drops out of the tree above you and pins you to the earth below, a blade to your throat.

gritted teeth snap too close to your face. you hear a deep voice—maybe a deeper threat, something to raise the hair on the back of your neck if you could only focus on the words. the world spins and your mind struggles to make sense of the sudden stop in motion, but something far more animal inside you decides that it's had enough. against any remaining survival instinct, you feel all tension bleed from your body—the stranger's face comes into clearer view right as you go limp underneath him. resignation wins out—your limbs wouldn't move if you pleaded with them to.

blond eyebrows meet hairline as your attacker is caught off guard by your forfeiture. "what are you—"

once distant howls growing nearer cut him off. he looks over his shoulder, eyes narrowed at something he cannot yet see. you watch from outside yourself as he turns back toward you. dark eyes meet your own and you see the decision make itself—in one instant you are free of his bodyweight, and in the next you are weightless as he hauls you over his shoulder.

he makes it no more than 10 feet down the path before the last bit of adrenaline leaves you and is replaced by a sudden, blinding pain with no identifiable source. you feel it everywhere—all of the seemingly inconsequential injuries catching up with you now that you've stopped moving. the receding tree line is the last thing you see before the world goes dark.

.

..

the warmth that surrounds you is decadent. you curl into it, reluctant to break the spell of sleep. but then you remember.

you shoot upright, sending at least three layers of blankets rolling off of you. you pinch the fabric of the top one between your fingers—alpaca. not native, but farmed here over the last century or so. you know (and had been told) that it was unbecoming of a princess to hold so much commonplace knowledge. but then again, status matters little now, and this blanket is soft. you're grateful to know the beast it was made from.

it hurts, but you coax your head into swiveling around to survey your surroundings, surprised when you find that it's very clearly someone's home. it's old—some of the wooden boards that line the walls have started to bow against the nails that drove them into the framework of the house, and daylight peaks through the cracks. the bed you rest in can barely be called that—an old futon cushion atop bundles of straw. but it's warm, and you slept. someone has been taking care of you. the thought is sobering; the anxiety that comes with it is enough to hold you to the bed for the foreseeable future.

but your stomach growls, and the bodily betrayal forces you to move. you do it slowly, kicking both feet out from under the blankets. to see them bandaged is startlingly unexpected.

your memories until now are fuzzy at best, but the last thing you distinctly recall is the feeling of sharpened metal biting into your skin. there are few ways you can fathom connecting the dots from that moment to this—swaddled in blankets with your wounds tended to. it leaves you on edge.

on two feet, you sway a bit—the hunger feeds the vertigo that spins the surroundings in your peripheral. one hand braced on the bed now behind you, you blink until things settle. you take a step forward, and the pain is shocking—your feet are clearly more injured than they'd felt at the time, but there is only one way out of this room. you press on.

the heavy wooden door opens into a one room cottage. it's old, and not in the well-loved and well-lived way—the dilapidated structure and lack of any real homely qualities tells you immediately that it's current inhabitant is more of a recent opportunist than a longtime homemaker. that distinction mattered little now, though, and you suppose you should be grateful for your stranger's resourcefulness.

you creep further into the room without a sound until you find yourself in the middle of it. crouched and defensive, until the realization hits you—you see all four walls and are perplexed to find that you are completely alone.

the room is little more than a crooked wooden table and a futon pad on the floor. there are remnants of a fireplace in the center of the room—mortar and brick crumbling up wooden slats toward the roof, but still useful with still-burning embers inside. truly, it's more primitive than livable—there are weapons and tools strung up along the wooden panels of the walls, and animal hides hang in any space between metal and wood. but it's warm, and it's a reminder of what is at stake. what should spur anxiety brings only confusion—when cost of survival is so high, why add another body to the burden?

you forget yourself until the heavy fall of footsteps outside the door reignites your adrenaline. you watch, wide eyed and frozen, as the door picks a fight with whoever is on the other side of it. a weight smacks solidly into it once, twice, and a third time before it opens with a heavy groan. in the daylight, your captor is revealed to you.

hard eyes widen slightly at the sight of you, and then narrow in suspicion. you're still as he takes in all of you, and suddenly very aware of the nightgown you escaped your home in, still hanging off your body. you fight the urge to withdraw into yourself—you know it’s not the time to cower.

he eyes you for a moment more, and then drops a heavy pack on the floor next to him, and busies himself with unloading. you watch as he pulls out tools that look unfamiliar to you—though you suppose any tool would. it's not as if you or your family ever had a need for them.

you watch him work and are surprised to find that he's...handsome. jaw set at a hard angle with scars that wrap around the slope of one side, he's rugged in a way you'd never been taught to find appealing. he is unlike the men that sought after your hand with promises of riches and comfortable living. he is unlike anyone you've seen before, truthfully.

"um—"

"is there something you need?"

his coldness stuns you for a moment. you're not sure what you were expecting—you'd no real reason to anticipate any kindness from the man, but the care by which your feet were wrapped had led your mind in that foolish direction anyway.

you fight the urge to draw your limbs into yourself like a startled turtle. "oh—i just. wanted to thank you, i suppose. for helping me."

he looks up from his sorting to meet your eyes, and the disdain in them feels like a physical wound. he drops the tool in his hand with a sharp thud against the floor, and it makes you jump.

"once you've healed, you will leave."

you exhale sharply. it makes sense, of course—it is no small ask of him to allow you to stay even until you're healed. even so, the reality of the world that awaits you carries a weight to it—it lurks around the periphery of the tiny cabin, waiting for you to poke your head out.

then comes the loss—the blood that still stains your fingertips and the hem of your nightgown. you bow your head—out of shame or grief, you're not sure—and turn on your heel, right back into the room you came from. you shut the door behind you quietly, and you don't make it to the bed. you sink to your haunches and gravity pins you there, head in hands as your mind reintroduces you to each of the ghosts that now have a tight grip on both your ankles.

.

..

it's dark when you emerge, once again driven by hunger or thirst, or some other base need to stay alive despite every glaring sign not to.

you commit yourself to stealth—to staying out of your stranger's way, as much as you can before you take your leave. the dark of the cabin hides you in your trek out of your hiding place—unfortunately, it also hides the solid object on the floor, laid directly in front of your door. your foot catches it and it clangs, the metallic echo ringing in your ears.

you curse under your breath, bending down to feel around in the blackness for whatever you hit. you startle when your fingers hit something unexpectedly soft. you squint, and suck in a breath when you realize what you're holding—a piece of bread. rather, half of a loaf, with a cut of meat nearby, on the metal plate that you’d kicked. you blink, like if you do it enough, the mirage will dissipate and leave only dark wood behind. but it doesn't—the bread gives some as your fingers squeeze around it as if to test it's trustworthiness. you decide to stop looking the gift horse in its mouth, and recede back the dark of your room, food in hand.

.

..

oddly enough, it becomes a regular occurrence. you grow accustomed to expecting a plate of food by your door every night—a seemingly ironic luxury, given your reality now. you hardly see your stranger—you've no idea when he has the opportunity to leave food by your door unnoticed, give his penchant for absence. puzzling still is that the food you're given varies, as if he intends for you to have a fully balanced diet in the middle of a societal collapse.

he doesn’t stop at the food, either—after a few nights spent in your room, he makes his first real appearance in the daylight. a knock at your door rouses you from what’s become a habit of mid-afternoon naps, in lieu of staring at the splintered walls of what was quickly beginning to feel like a cage instead of a place of healing. you pull the door open to find your stranger towering over you—leering down at you with the same discontent he had before. only now, he holds something in his hands, and extends them to you.

“there’s a stream at the edge of the boundary.”

he thrusts what’s in his hands to yours, and you realize that it’s clothing—not in the best shape, but certainly better than the blood-crusted nightgown you still wear. he says no more, and for once you’re grateful for his curt demeanor. he turns on his heel and stalks out of the cabin, back to whatever the outside world has to offer him. after a moment, you follow his path, for the first time since you’d arrived.

it stuns you for a moment, how sinister the land looked in the dark, and how different it looks now. the sun shines hot down on the wheatgrass that sways gently in the breeze. it picks up a lock of your hair and you feel lighter with it.

you walk where you assume you should—down a thinly-worn path between the grass. you find it eventually: a small stream, just wide and deep enough for you to bathe in if you crouch. you turn your head to each side, squinting in your search for prying eyes—you find no one, but it’s still wholly uncomfortable to undress in the open like this.

your reservations leave you the minute you step into the water. warmed by the sun with a sweeping current, you let out a guttural moan that would’ve certainly earned you a chastising from your grandmother for its crudeness. you can’t help it—the caked on dirt and grime dissolves under your fingers and leaves you feeling better than you ever have. there is a slight sting in the soles of your feet—that it is slight is surprising to you, and a harrowing reminder of the clock that continues to tick out of your favor.

.

..

days bleed into weeks. your feet heal earlier than you expect them too, and the guilt you carry is worse than the wound. you know you’ve reached the end of your stay, but you can’t get yourself to leave. not when your stranger still insists on taking care of you. the anticipation is sickening—instead of sitting and waiting to be shooed away, you decide to earn your stay. hard work for someone who’d never worked a day, but the determination proves stronger than the fatigue.

you clean. it’s the only thing you can think to do, and truthfully, it’s necessary. you haul water in old containers on your shoulder from the stream, and you wash the dust away until the floors shine and the windows are clear again. you do this everyday—finding something to clean and fixating on it until the sun reaches the other side of the horizon. today is no different—you set your sights on the ash in the fireplace, using a metal pan to scoop it into a stray tarp to carry outside when you’re done.

you’re almost finished when you hear the now familiar sound of boots scraping the stone outside. you tense, but you don’t stop, pulling another pile of stale smelling soot onto the tarp as your stranger opens the door. you hear him stop behind you, but you don’t turn.

“what are you doing?” the tone is not as harsh as you’re used to—a little fatigued, mostly inquisitive.

“cleaning,” you say softly, pulling up at each corner of the canvas and watching the ash collide into neat little heaps in the center, “i’m almost done—i’ll be out of your way.”

you get to your feet, discard in hand, and turn to look at him. his strong brow furrows as he looks at you, like there’s something about what he sees that he can’t understand. against your best interest, your curiosity gets the better of you.

“i’m sorry, it’s just—i never learned your name.”

the look he levels you with makes you wish you’d never asked. his expression gives away nothing, but it tells you enough.

“how are your feet?”

your stomach drops—all of your attempts at earning your place for naught after all. but you stand in front of him now—to lie to him would be foolish at best.

you can barely raise your voice above a whisper. “healed.”

he studies you for a moment more, and it’s too much for you. your eyes fall to a crack in the floor, and distantly you wish you’d shrink down to slip inside of it, never to be seen again.

“tomorrow i will show you how to trap.” he gruffs, finality lacing his tone. your eyes snap to his but he’s already turning, half way out the door before he stops. he turns his head, eyeing you over his shoulder.

“kento,” he mutters, barely audible and strange meeting your ears, “my name is kento.”

and then he’s gone again—leaving you standing there with a hand full of dirt and no way to discern your left from right as your world tilts on its axis, if only slightly—but noticeable and disruptive all the same.

.

..

you don’t sleep well that night—startled out of a twilight sleep in what appears to be the dark hours of the morning by the rapping of knuckles on your door. kento nods to you in a greeting of his own, turning swiftly on his heel and heading toward the front door. you follow him dutifully, pulling over your shoulders the blanket you’d snagged before you left the warmth of your bed for the chill of the morning. the grass is cool and dewey under your bare feet, and it’s a quiet luxury you find yourself reveling in as you pad along behind him. you can hardly see him in the dark and yet you keep up, somehow—you know there’s too much at stake to lag behind.

true to his word, he teaches you how to trap. solely by doing—few words are exchanged between you as he trudges into the stream and hauls out a weaved basket attached to a rope, fastened to the shoreline by a stray branch. the light that creeps over the horizon begins to illuminate his work—silvery tails gleam as they flick back and forth from inside the cage. you know better than to be sad, but you feel it anyway. it’s silly to feel a kinship with the creatures, not even sentient enough to know that there is no escape for them—but you know, and the weight of that is a tangible thing.

he teaches you how to prepare the fish, then—and you get through it, if not only through sheer determination to not throw up in front of kento. the sun rises and illuminates other opportunities to learn—he teaches you about the native plants, only in simple directions of pointing to a patch of green with an accompanied “don’t touch”, or “fine to eat”. it’d feel patronizing if it wasn’t all so overwhelming—he had a knowledge of things you’d never dreamed of before. all you can feel is excitement that he’s willing to share it with you.

as the sun begins to set, he brings you to the garden—a small patch of land, seemingly unassuming until you step inside. there are fruiting plants everywhere you look—fat, red tomatoes and vining, prickly cucumbers, complete with rows of leafy greens and cabbages. you can’t begin to imagine how he’d managed to grow all of this by himself. his nightly food gifts start to make more sense.

you work side by side, pulling ripe crop from each plant and placing them into a metal canister—usually used for mechanical purposes, but at the end of the world, you find many uses for what you have. you feel emboldened somehow with your hands in the dirt next to his, and the words leave you before you have a moment to reconsider; you tell him of where you’d come from, and of your descent down the hill. you think of the kin you’d left behind, and you feel detached as you tell him of the loss—an observation if nothing else, as if you’d sat on a shoreline and watched the tide flood in.

he doesn’t react—not to your noble status, and not to the death—he’s quiet as he moves on to each plant, only the pattering sound of what he harvests hitting the tin bottom of his canister. you don’t mind—there’s no reaction you’d expect or find helpful, and for some reason, his presence is enough. you find it odd that weeks ago his footsteps incited real fear in your veins, and now he’d spent the day teaching you new ways to be useful. it was a strange and intimate gratitude, but one you felt nonetheless.

you find you see him more now, with your newfound ability to contribute and the determination to do just that. days are spent hauling fresh catches out of the stream, and hunting down small mammals to supplement your diet. you watch him closely—the flex and twist of his torso with the pull of the bow, the way he narrows his focus to the fluffy little thing that scurries among the leaves. with the twitch of a finger, the arrow flies toward its target—there is a screech, and then a sobering quiet. for the first time in your life, you pray—quietly, for the creature with the same instinct to survive that drives you to take its life.

“here,” kento says, handing the bow to you, “try it.”

you wrap your fingers around the wood and do as he asks. it’s deceptively heavy—the tension of the bow makes it nearly impossible to draw back with your own strength. focused and determined not to fail in front of him, you nearly jump out of your skin when his hands cover your own.

“there’s no trick to it,” his voice is gruff but gentle and far closer to you than he’s ever been, “just pull back, like this.”

he guides your hand backward with his own and the tail of the arrow follows—at your back, you feel the muscles in his chest ripple with the effort.

“focus,” he breathes, and you fight a shudder at his proximity, “listen.”

and it’s hard to hear anything over the roar of blood in your ears, but you try, blinking in an effort to snap out of whatever trance kento has put you in. it takes a moment, but then you hear it—the crinkle of leaves beneath tiny paws.

“take a deep breath.” kento allows you to move the bow where you want to, and you try to focus your aim. a bushy tail flicks up behind the underbrush—you train the point of the arrow right below it. your heart thuds wildly in your chest, and suddenly you’re worried that the bow might slide out of your sweating palms, impaling you instead.

“let it go.”

you do as he says, and the ringing in your ears drowns out the sounds of short-lived suffering. he lets go of you then—you don’t notice he’s come to stand in front of you until you feel the rough pad of his thumb swipe gently across your cheek. you blink, your own fingers reaching up to find tears you don’t recall ever shedding. your eyes meet his, and they burn with an intensity you’ve never seen in him before. but he’s not angry—you feel no compulsion to apologize for whatever is happening to you. he takes the bow from your hands, and slings it over his back.

“we’ll go back now,” he says quietly. you follow him up the path, and the tears don’t stop until you reach the cabin. you wonder who exactly it is that you’re crying for.

.

..

you don’t know what it is about the nights that follow that lead kento to decide to stick around, but there’s a part of you that’s glad he does. above all else, you knew better than to question it. he doesn’t say much—he never does—but you’re more than happy to fill the silence. you suppose you owe him the opportunity to know you, after all he’s done for you—you’ve no idea how to quantify the gratitude you’ve felt over the last few months. you do what you can.

“there’s a story my grandmother used to tell,” you murmur, eyes to the fire that crackles in front of you, “i used to sit at her feet while she brushed my hair. she only ever told it to me—it was like a secret between us.”

the wood pops and spits an ember at your feet. you watch it blaze bright, the tiny thing—one last attempt to catch before it snuffs itself out. “there was a princess that lived high in a tower built to protect her from the bandits of the neighboring empire. she was only ever allowed to walk the grounds of the palace under the safety of a full moon. one night, as she crept out of the tower under the cover of the dark, she’s lured into the dark forest by a witch. she promises to grant the princess any wish, for a price.”

your eyes catch kento’s, and for once, his expression is not indifferent. he is here with you in this moment, and it warms you more than the flame. “of course she wishes to be free,” you continue, waving a hand at its inevitability, “and the witch turns her into a hare. and in the original story, that’s the end of it. there’s a lesson there, right?”

“but in my grandmother’s story, it’s the best thing that could’ve happened to the princess. she’s free to hop around to her heart’s content. all she does is eat greenery and lay fat in her den until she dies a natural death after a long and happy life.”

you hear what you think is a scoff from the man next to you. your eyes roam kento’s face, and you think there might even be a hint of a smirk there. it thrills you.

“the tale of an optimist,” he offers quietly, and it’s not bitter.

“she was,” you murmur, “until the end, she was an optimist.”

it’s quiet between you for a moment, save for the crackle of the fire.

“i’m sorry you lost her.”

you smile, and it hurts. the tears well up before you can stop them.

“it’s unfair,” you croak, despite yourself. you’d done well to put up a good front in front of kento—humbling, to see how quickly it could be undone.

you startle when you feel a warm palm close around your clenched fist. “it is unfair,” he says, eyes meeting yours.

the warmth is profound, again despite the fire that heats your cheeks. you find yourself leaning into it until you’ve tucked yourself under his arm. he’s tense, but allows it.

“tell me something about you,” you whisper thickly, needing to think of anything else. he hums, tipping his head back. you sneak a glimpse of the curve of his jaw, glowing between shadows cast by a flickering flame. scar tissue curves and shimmers as it tenses.

“we were a group,” he murmurs, still looking up at the old, wooden boards, “myself and some of the neighbor children. there were no family units, there— we created our own.”

you’re so quiet you think you can nearly hear him piece together the memory in his mind. you know he’s gifting you something precious, so you don’t dare speak.

“we were too young to be running around alone, but there was nowhere to go. we knew enough to dodge the militias that would burn through each village. we thought we did, anyway.”

“the elders were kind. they brought in as many of us as they could on nights when the trucks would come down the road. but we didn’t have parents or homes, and they couldn’t take in all of us.” he pauses, sucking in a long breath. it shifts you when his chest expands. “i was small enough that i was able to fit through a hole in the crawl space under a home. Yu tried, but he wasn’t fast enough.”

“he was my best friend.” kento’s voice is quiet, and more fatigued than you’ve ever heard it. it’s unnerving, seeing his humanity laid out so plainly. “he tried to run, but they caught up just as quickly. they would’ve just taken him to a work camp, but he put up a fight.” he says it with a small smile, like he’s proud. “they shot him and left him there to die.”

if there was a way you could be closer to kento, you’d have found it by now, but you find yourself trying to sneak up under his ribs anyway. trying to find a way to siphon his pain into yourself, if only for a moment.

“you were brave,” you whisper, having nothing else to say except for that—for what feels obvious and true. he scoffs, but you can hear the grief behind it.

“maybe,” he says, arm tightening around your shoulders, “i don’t think i’ve ever felt that way.”

you hum, a low and sympathetic thing, fighting the urge to nuzzle into his chest. it’s strange, how easy it is to default to such animal inclinations when there’s no need to abide by arbitrary customs. there is only the two of you here, and the urge to comfort kento is strong.

“will you let me do something?”

he glances down at you out of the corner of his eyes—narrowed in distrust, despite baring his most tender bits to you only a moment ago. you push past it.

“here,” you say, sitting up and out from under his hold, “sit here.”

“on the ground?” he’s not so much incredulous as he is confused—and you’ll take what you can get. you nod, an appeasing sort of grin teasing the corners of your mouth.

his eyes are still narrowed when he goes—crouched in defense like you wait with bared teeth instead of open arms. still, he moves to sit before you—facing you. you laugh a little, endeared.

“i meant for you to turn—“

“no.”

you’re snapped back to reality then—to the present moment, with this man that kindly took you in but does not trust you. you take in a slow breath, careful not to flinch under the weight of his stare.

“okay,” you murmur, reaching up to pull free from your hair the comb that tethers it in its knot, “that’s okay.”

your hair slips down over your nape as you pull the teeth of it free—hard and familiar in your fingers, you offer it to him like one would a scrap of food to a feral dog. an heirloom made of deer bone—your family’s own commitment to using all that you were given, even if it was in excess. a reminder of a luxury that never felt like one until now.

“is it okay?” you ask, pulling up on your own bravery to keep his stare. after a long moment of careful deliberation, he nods tersely.

you lean forward slightly, careful of his space, and let him see the comb as you reach up. he jumps when the dulled prongs meet his scalp, but you stay the course. you pull it through the blond strands—longer than they were when you first met, the dulled ends slipping through with each pass.

you sit back to look at him after a moment. there’s no resistance, nor is there any enthusiasm—but you trust that he’d stop you if he was uncomfortable, so you keep going.

you lose yourself in the task, pulling (or pushing, from where you sit in front of him) the carved bone through his hair. you allow him the privacy of a reaction—eyes focused only on the strands that flit away from the teeth of the comb.

so focused, it seems, that you have to suppress the jerk of your leg when he leans up against it. the quick glimpse you allow yourself gores you—his eyes now closed, head cushioned by the soft of your thigh. looking more childlike than you’ve ever seen him in the months you’ve spent every minute with him. you see flashes of him as a boy—small and without scarring or a reason for haunches to raise in fear or rage. you think of him laughing—rolling in mud and being scolded by an otherwise kind woman instead of squeezing his way through jagged, wooden boards to save his life. never knowing the sound of a shot ringing out in the street.

you tuck your face into your shoulder—determined to hide the tears and your grief on his behalf. determined to let him feel this, whatever it is, and be a safe place for him to do it. to be the strong arm and the kind hand for him now—the one he can give his precious trust to.

the fire crackles and the mourning is heavy in the air—but kento is alive beneath your fingers, and your own heart beat is a heavy and reassuring thud inside your chest.

.

..

he is a rose in bloom, in the nights that follow. tightly coiled and still with all of his thorns, but in bloom nonetheless.

he becomes something of your shadow. where he lingered out of distrust he now hovers with intent—comically so, his large body folding itself in the small confines of the makeshift kitchen while you wring out linens in the sink. it’s clear that something has shifted between you—though what, you’re unsure. your mind tells you he is finally coming around to you. your heart yearns for something more than just his trust, though you are not unaffected by the weight of that trust alone.

he is never more than an arm’s length away. he leaves in the darkened hours of the morning to hunt, and is somehow back before the sun rises to wake you. that was another shift—he hadn’t asked you to join him on a hunt since that night. he hadn’t asked you for anything after that, really. he sleeps nearer, too—you’d been under the impression that he’d been sleeping outside until he wound up at the foot of your bed, sleeping still like a guard dog. you didn’t have the heart to ask him about it—you just left the candle burning and turned away from the door. he was owed privacy in his vulnerability, and you give him that.

and however hard to read the man may be, you feel some discontent at not pulling your weight, so you try your best to anyway. patching up holes in the wooden exterior of your home. sealing the windows with fur and fat to beat the chill of the creeping fall. you know that the garden tending is cyclical with the seasons—the cold calls for heartier vegetables. you pull and preen until your fingers swell, aching.

and there he would be—watching you, as always.

“hard work for a princess,” he mutters through something suspiciously similar to a smirk. you level him with a glare—the heat of which is immediately snuffed out in comparison to the heat of the cloth that he wraps around your wind-bitten hands. the heat of his body before yours is a close second to the warmest you've ever been despite all of the holes you'd still yet to patch.

“i hardly remember ever being one now,” you murmur, leaning into his side as his thumbs swipe over your palms—needle pinpricks left in their wake, even through the fabric.

he scoffs, his hands engulfing yours in his warmth. "are you not still?"

"i suppose, technically." you shrug, letting him crowd you over to the old, torn up futon that you'd been using as living room furniture. he'd been doing a lot of that lately—pushing you to relax. itching to take a weight from you. he arranges you to his liking, wrapping one of the woven blankets around your shoulders. "i was meant to be made into more than that, you know. before the uprising."

kento only raises an eyebrow at you. you shrug, past the point of shrinking from his silence. "my family had paid a sizeable dowry to have me married off. an heir in a neighboring village, supposedly. only my grandmother was against it, in her own, quiet way. she took to calling me her rabbit, after her story. she wanted differently for me."

there's no mistaking the way kento stiffens. there's no reason for it, nor is there a justification for the way you want to placate him. you do it anyway.

"maybe it's for the best," you say, waving your hand as if to dismiss the whole thing entirely, "i'm not exactly the noble type, now."

you watch him deflate. he nods sagely, the smirk pulling at his lips again. "surely you're the most frightening princess i've ever met."

you turn your head to watch him settle in next to you—another new behavior, seemingly unbothered by the proximity that he no doubt was unfamiliar with. "what's that supposed to mean?"

his teasing grin fades into something a little more forlorn. "when i found you, i expected you to be afraid. i wouldn't have harmed you—i only wanted to scare you off."

you huff. "that wasn't very nice."

"you weren't afraid though. it was unnerving."

"oh?" you grin, reaching to poke him in the ribs. "you were afraid of me?"

he reaches for your hand and pulls it to his lap. "i was sad for you. it wasn't a resilience—it felt as though you were broken."

it hurts, you decide, to be known like this. how simple things had been when he'd only left you provisions at your bedroom door and left you be. now you'd gone and allowed your heart to run freely ahead without a tether. you'd no way of preparing for the injury that freedom would cause.

"you pitied me," you mutter, unable to keep the bitterness from your tone. the mood shifts between you, and something inside you wants to resent him for it. how warm it had been inside the delusion—the world in which you both exist in this space as equals, brought together by fate and want and nothing else.

"no, not pity." you startle at the feeling of his fingertips as they brush a tendril of hair from your face. "you reminded me of myself. i didn't want you to be alone."

"why take on that burden?"

kento hums, pushing his fingers through the hair at your temple. despite yourself, you lean into the touch. "maybe i didn't want to be alone, either."

you blink, the sentiment working its way into your head. it lands significantly south—deep in your chest with an ache you can't describe. you reach for the wrist in your peripheral, stopping his movement and keeping him close. "is that all?"

"no." his admittance is a whispered, strained thing. you're close enough that to tilt your head back brings his jaw to your lips. the ghost of your breath along his skin makes him shudder, and you feel the fingers in your hair flex into a grip.

"what else, then?"

he ducks his chin to nose at your cheek. your eyes flutter closed, mind empty of all that swam around in it only a moment ago.

"my rabbit," his bottom lip brushes against your own, "what else is there but you?"

.

..

the weather changes and the gods grow restless.

you both feel it at the first chill of the year. there’s no graceful turn of the seasons—the air is bitter and cold, and you know something is coming. there’s little time for play, so on the last few warm evenings of fall, you take advantage of it. or you try to—you drag kento into the stream to soak in the dwindling rays of sun, but the knowledge of what is to come weighs heavily on you both. he holds you up in the current—body to body, only breathing. you can't get close enough—to reach inside him and carve out a space for yourself would still not sate the longing you feel.

that wretched something shows it’s face soon enough. the first snow is harsh, collecting in heavy banks against the roof of the house. the wood sags under the weight and the cold creeps in through the wood until the fire is no longer enough to warm the house in it's entirety—only the small space in front of the mantel that you crowd around. you and kento don’t talk much these days—to speak takes energy you don’t have to spare. he is doting as he always is—making sure you are covered in every layer of fabric and fur he can find, but something is wrong. you know the worst is yet to come. you feel it in the way kento holds you too close during the night; it’s never warm enough.

at first there is hope. kento has his food reserves and you'd preserved some of what you’d gathered. but a week of snow turns to two, and two weeks turn to two months. the rations get smaller and the two of you get hungrier. by the third month, you understand that you will not be spared the gods’ wrath. you see the punishment for what it is—a utilitarian consequence to all of the bloodshed by man. you do not have the energy to mull over the unfairness of that. even if you did, the gods do not concern themselves with what is fair—you know that now. the light inside you fades with every new inch of snowfall.

but kento is kind, despite your insistence that he be otherwise. he pulls from his own warmth to add to yours. your dinner portions are always bigger, even if it means he goes without eating entirely. it’s in vain, of course. neither of you will live through this. you scold him for pushing the last of his food on your plate and he doesn’t bother to respond. he only watches while you eat, like he can’t rest until he knows for sure that you have eaten all he has to offer you. you chew through tears and the only comfort is the hand that reaches to wipe them from your cheek. it’s a painful end, wasting away like this. watching kento fade away.

it's when you can smell death's approach that you know with certainty that your humanity has fled for a better place. the thing that remains in you—that keeps your heart beating, that coaxes your lungs to inflate—is purely animal. and it's out of that same primal need that you close the distance between kento's frail body and your own. in the silent chill of the night, the warmth between you may be merely a hallucination now, but you feel it all the same. there is no pain anymore. only a pull into a sleep you want so badly to slip into.

you don't cry—you use the last of the strength in your body to tuck yourself under kento's chin and curl around him in some intimate display of what exists between you. of what has existed this whole time.

"if this is the end," you murmur, knowing that it is, "i'm happy that i'll leave this world with you."

the knuckles that brush against your cheek are sharp and gnarled now. you've never known a touch so tender. it’s odd to speak—to shatter the intimacy of the silence that’s floated around the both of you for much of the last few weeks.

"do you know now?"

if you close your eyes, you can pretend that the man in your arms will live to see the morning. that this is merely pillow talk, and the sun will wake you with warmed skin in a few hours.

but you don't let yourself turn away. it's striking, how even with his last few breaths, kento manages to use them worrying about you. you wonder if he's done it the whole time. you do know; you realize with unmistakable clarity that you'd know his love anywhere, now. you nod, feeling his thready pulse against your forehead.

"i do. you'll have to forgive me for not seeing it sooner."

you feel him scoff—an inappropriate use of dwindling breath that makes you laugh, too. "there will be plenty of time to show you in the next life, my rabbit."

a brief bitterness curls up your spine—the unfairness of all of this creeping back up like a rising tide. how cruel it was to have settled on the loneliness of a life without love, just to be shown the magnitude of a life with it in the final months of your own.

but it recedes in the next moment, because there is no more time to grieve. you can only feel grateful, now—to leave this world saturated in all that kento has given you.

cracked lips brush the skin of your temple—he has no real energy for a proper kiss, but the desire to comfort is strong between you. you spend the next few, precious moments counting the breaths that rattle inside his chest, grateful for every one cycled through.

in the silent hours of a darker morning, there is a light only the two of you can see. shrouded in the glow, he is so beautiful.

with all of your strength, you call him by his name, one last time. "until next time, my love."

epilogue

if the notion of certainty is alive in anything, it is in the way that fable and folklore are sure to be born and born again out of gatherings of beings with mouths to speak it. one such example is the jagged, snow capped hills of Akaito—a new village comprised of all walks of life, the one commonality between them being their displacement during the fall of the Zaiaku dynasty almost one hundred years prior. built overtop the remnants of survivor settlements crushed under the Great Snow, all who inhabit the land know well of the blood that has stained the soil and pay mind to honor the loss of life in their own ways—namely in storytelling. this great coming together eventually gave way to a new mother tongue for the telling of a new bed time story to bleary eyed babes in the middle of the night: the tale of the Akaito lovers—the wolf and the hare.

as the story goes, villagers who have been bestowed some unearthly dose of luck by the gods may catch a glimpse of an unlikely pair—a formidable looking white wolf with scarring across its broad body, and its counterpart: a fluffy and downright regal grey hare. one might catch them romping around in the dusting after a fresh snow, or preening one another under a shaded tree in the heat of the summer. depending on who tells the tale, it might be the case that if a person is truly fortunate and determined to wait out the dark of night, they might even be gifted the sight of the duo curled around one another, sleeping peacefully in a protective and loving embrace under the light of a waning moon.

as with all fables, the story is altered with every new tongue that speaks it, and one day the tale will vanish from the minds of the younger generations completely. but for now, it is ripe in the minds of the young and old, the latter of which are very certain that it is no mere fable at all.

[aphroditesmoon]

Hi! I’m not sure if u do smut or not but I was wondering if u could do a Legolas smut with fem!human!reader, like a enemies to lovers kind of thing. Maybe hate sex? <3

too close

legolas greenleaf x reader

summary: legolas has his doubts about who you really are, but is that really why he can never meet your eyes with anything else but anger in himself.

warning: afab reader, nswf, smut 18+, etl, legolas being a jerk, probably bad description of mirkwood

a/n: soo sorry i took ages, I've been taking new meds, also i havent written smut for a while so im a bit dusty, hope u like it<3

○○○○○○

Summer is barely a real season under the protective courts of Mirkwood, you could barely feel the heat or see the sun through giantic starfall tree and at night, the chill through the strong winds gives a hint of winter in its air.

You loved it. Training at night feels easier when your not already sweating through your tits ten minutes in warm ups. And the quiet around you, save the crickets and owls hooting, gave you the solace you seeked for each existing day you lived through.

But despite finding everything well with want you asked for, the universe seems relentless with making sure you'll always be keeping your guard up and your annoyance up higher, with the ever consistent appearance of Prince Legolas Greenleaf.

He stands by the corner near an entrance to the castle, watchful of you while thinking he's quiet. His lack of trust in you makes him believe that you somehow lack in the specialties of elf abilities, like for example, your keen hearing.

"I could hear you for a mile away, prince." You also caught onto his snort, before his footsteps sounds louder. "How did you lnow it was me then?" He asks, less snobby than usual.

He must be drunk, you tell yourself.

"You have that pompous, all knowing kind of stride, it has its own beat when you walk." You expected him to roll his eyes like he usually do, belittling you like a child being reprimanded. But suprisingly he laughs. "That sounds a lot like you're projecting, after all, only pompous, all knowing arseholes are the ones who isolate themselves and train alone."

Ah, there it is. He's sobered up then.

"And what humble, kind enough of an elf, would waste his time stalking other people just to throw insults like a 7 year old?" You snapped.

If he had found your irritants amusing before, now his smile fades altogether,  and he looks the same as when he's about to pull an arrow on an orc.

"The kind of an elf who's trying to protect his kingdom and father." You laughed honestly yet mockingly before dropping your sword altogether to look at him. "You think your doing the king a favor? His majesty has his own mind, he trusts me, so I'd suggest you drop your savior facade and trust him." He shook his head and looks away for a second, as if deep in thought. "My father doesn't trust anyone, let alone random rogue elves who comes out of nowhere."

You raised you brow at his bravery in speech. 'This random rogue elf is the reason your father is alive, if I had even a glimpse of malice in me, I wouldn't have done nothing but serve him well for the last 10 months." You say matter of factly.

And before he could argue again, you wave your hand at him annoyed, and turn your back at the prince. "I practise better when im alone, and now you've ruined my peace, if you don't have anything new or smart to say-"

"You are a witch." He speaks. You actually freezed for a moment, forehead frowned in confusion. "Excuse me?"He repeated his impossible words. 

"Im a witch...because i saved your father's lives?" You ask him, slowly. He looks more frustrated then ever, as if you're the one patronizing him.

"No, you are a witch, because you have bewitched him." You could laugh if you didn't want to punch him. "And how have I bewitched him?" You almost yell. "I don't fucking know!" He yells first.

"My father has never trusted anyone, except for me, yet i see he'd put his life in your hands if he has to. And you know that, you know what you are doing. How you win his praise and trust when you fight, and when you put yourself over him, over the other shooters, martyring yourself."

Your mouth was wide open, your brows furowing, but no words escape you as he continues, inching closer with every word, untik you're both a step away from eachother.

"And you know exactly what you do to me." He was hovering over you, with a glare so intense you've never seen from the mirkwood prince. "I've done nothi-" He cuts you off when you've just gained enough control to speak. "You've bewitched me."

His breath was steady even in such anger, fanning your face gently as he inhales and exhales.  "I don't trust you, and i shouldn't care too much of another fighter in our army, another stranger i shan't waste my time on. Yet one glimpse of you, and you're stuck in my head, like a memory i can't seem to forget."

he was silent after the last confession ends, and you have the stubborn urge to answer to him. "That sounds like a you problem, not mine." He gives a short bitter laugh, looking up to the sky for a second, as if praying to the stars for guidance. "What have you done to me, cruel enchantress."

The rage seemed to lessen in the glare he still holds at you, but something more hungry lays in his gaze. "I've done nothing. Im no witch." You answer, so over all of this cat and mouse game. "And if I was, I wouldn't waste my time on someone so frustrating like you, and your stupid perfect nose, going around acting like you're-" He cuts you off, closing the small space between the two of you with his lips.

It was persistent, the way his mouth pushed over yours, like a strong wave crashing over sands, forcing it to feel the same surge it's being held againts.

When your hands finally found its strength, you place them againts his chest, pushing him off, he startles and moves a step, eyes locking with yours.

His hands that were once on each sides of your face, falls down to his side, fingers flexing as if too empty now. "I hate you." He says. His eyes saying the opposite. Your mind repeats over and over of what he had done and you tell yourself that it can't get any worse or better than this, so you took a move yourself forward, standing on the ground he was on a second ago.

"Then why don't you show me how much."

You don't hesitate to pull his face towards yours, recreating the similar scene as before. His hands move to wrap around your waist, while yours tangle themselves in his untied long white hair.

You gasp when his tongue licks over your bottom lip, giving him what he wanted, your tongues clashes as you two continue kissing eachother like you're out of air. You don't flinch when he backs you up until your back meets the flat of a wall.  His right hand starts to fliddle with the laces tying your leather top on. You help him take it off before your own fingers helps him take his breeches of while he moves his lips to your neck.

"I like you better with your hair down." You manage to gasp out while he's sucking on your neck. "And I like you better with your mouth shut."  Legolas replies before his hands easily turns you around your face meets with the wall.

You barely hold on to the wall when his grip on your hips tighten, your own training tights pulled down before you felt him againts your back.  You squirm and let yourself grind againts his hardness when one of his hands move to your front to squeeze your breasts, flicking your nipple, gently moving lower then from your chest to yoir stomach, grazing your scar filled abs until it gets lower to where you want him the most.

He's still squeezing your left hip while rubbing his hard cock againts your ass.

Finally as he sinks into you without notice,  receiving  a loud whimper from you, his hand over your hips move to grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back againts his chest. His right wandering fingers were still againts your front, rubbing circles on your thighs.

You're too speechless, feeling yourself filled up to the brim by him. He doesn't move at first, head laying low by your neck, hot breathing againts your cheek. You almost cry when he slowly pulls out, until he pushes himself in again, harder tham the first thrust.

He doesn't stop them, pushing into your hole repeatedly, his hands moving up from your thighs to your clit, rubbing over it with a pace that wanted to make you scream.

Legolas finally regains enough strength to start biting and sucking on your neck, marking you, while he doesn't stop pounding into your wet cunt.

The fullness of his cock and pressure of his fingers makes your cunt tighten againts him, he lets out a growl you've never heard if the elf prince before he bites down your sweet spot harshly, making you scream out his name. "Fucking hell." He groans out, fucking out all his pent up anger and tension over you.

.Your hands feels slippery againts the wall, gripping againts nothing while he takes you like a ragdoll, manhandling you take his cock over and over, watching you turn into a crying and moaning mess.

"Legolas, please- uh." You mewl out to him He hears you, pleased he is as he lets out a grin againts your neck. "Please what, my love?" He asks huskily.  Love, thats a new one.

"Need to come-" You beg out to him.  And Legolas, for all his false pretense of hostility before, could never say no to you.

He pushes your face againts the wall again,  both of his palms now back to each side of your hip, tightening againts them as he plunges himself harder inside of you as you scream out his name, shameless of who could've heard them. Your nipples grazes againts the hard bumpy walls, oversensitive to everything now,  you clench againts him so tightly that you could hear him curse out in elvish as he holds on to your bruised sides.

You feel tears brimming in your eyes as he continues fucking you while you explode all over him, your orgasm leaking out of your cunt, all over his leg. "Argh- im going to-" He doesn't finish his words as he finally cums after you, his hot cum leaking into your hole and then lower lines on your arse.

His head leans on your back, his breathing rapid and sweat glistens you both.

Legolas pulls you back by your breast, letting you rest on hus chest while the two of you try to regain some air. His fingers grazing the valley of your tits, head stuck on the side of your forehead. Once you've calmed down from your high, you tilt your head towards him, relishing his warm arms around you.

He leans forward, letting your forehead meets. You let out a small smile.  "Now what?" Your voice gentler then expected. "Now-" He answers, voice hard. "-I'll take you to my chambers, and I'm fucking you again."

[staryuee]

“ YOU MAKE ME FEEL SAFE.”

꒰warnings꒱ semi-proofread <3

⠀꒲ ` synopsis . . . telling [char.] that they make you feel safe ♡

⠀꒲ ` characters . . . aether, lumine, dainsleif, xiao, tartaglia, wanderer, yae miko, kokomi, itto, cyno, kaveh

⠀꒲ ` notes . . . quite short bc a bitch is exhausted from exams </3 love u lots mwah mwah sorry for dying every month

AETHER — 空

“you make me feel safe.”

“eh..?” aether pauses for a brief moment and instantly turns to look at you, a look of both surprise and joy encapsulating his features. he blinks twice, a smile forming on his lips as he stares at you with eyes filled with so much adoration that it makes your breath hitch.

“i’m.. im really happy to hear that, i really can’t put it into words.” he walks over to you and entraps you in a heartwarming hug, one that made you melt as soon as his body made contact with yours. hearing such a lovely phrase so easily drop off your tongue made him genuinely feel like everything he’s done so far wasn’t in vain.

it felt so right; to be the cause of someone else’s happiness; a haven for their security, and to know you had that in him was something so sweetly fulfilling.

LUMINE — 荧

“you make me feel safe.”

lumine stops in her steps to swiftly turn back to you. you flash her a lovely smile, one which she complaisantly returns with blush dusting her cheeks. “you’re so corny.” she goes over to you to squish your cheeks together, staring at you in awe as she does so.

“but,” she pulls you in for a hug, “i’m glad — it’s my job to look after you after all.” she squeezes you tighter and you can’t help but pull away to sneak in a sweet kiss to her forehead, she leans into it, still looking adoringly up at you with that smile of hers, you feel yourself heat up at the very sight of it.

“you make me happy.” she whispers and presses herself closer to you, hands resting gently on your waist.

DAINSLEIF — 戴因斯雷布

“you make me feel safe, you know?”

you were merely having a late night conversation, it divulged from your morning duties and then to what you love each other; your words leaving dainsleif rather speechless. such flowery words being uttered by someone he’s internally sworn to protect till the end of time genuinely feeling safe with him ? if he was a tad bit more.. emotional.. he could shed a tear.

instead, he opts for kissing your cheeks and cuddling you closer with his lips turning upwards ever so slightly. he wants to tell you how loved you make him feel, but he settles for his own quietness and the comfort of your warmth.

there’s still no words in any teyvat language that could express or even comprehend his love for you; he can only hope that his fleeting touches are enough to share a sentiment similar to your own.

XIAO — 魈

“xiaoxiao.” your voice echoes melodically in his sleepy mind. he replies with a simple hum.

“you make me feel safe.” you lean on him nonchalantly as if you didn’t just say something that could break him.

“it’s my duty to protect you.” he pulls you in closer, his heartbeat beginning to quicken with every shallow breath.

“i mean that being with you is just extremely comfortable and peaceful, it has little to do with your ability to protect me.” you laugh as you intertwine hands with him. xiao leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on the crown of your head, responding with a stuttered yet wholehearted reply was not worth the embarrassment for the yaksha.

he pulls your interlocked hand up to his lips and places a soft kiss on your knuckles, the silence thick yet so serene. he finds comfort in solace, but you’ve shown him that the atmosphere of loneliness can be shared with the silent affection of a loved one.

TARTAGLIA — 公子

tartaglia caressed your cheeks, staring at you with such determined love and adoration it was enough to send your heart into overdrive. every swipe of his thumb, every glance at your lips and every kiss that he stole managed to send flurries of butterflies into your stomach; which lead to your impromptu, “you make me feel safe.”

he stopped his ministrations abruptly, his eyes widening yet his smile remaining all the same. he lets out a soft sigh before sprinkling gentle kisses across your face, “you’ve really got me wrapped around your finger, huh.”

your fingers trail up to caress his nape before tugging him down for a quick peck. “yes i do... “ you murmur as his hands move from your face to hold the back of your head, pulling you closer. he lets out another chuckle before kissing your nose softly, a light blush colouring his skin. “ you make my heart race like nobody else could.”

SCARAMOUCHE — 斯卡拉姆齐

“you make me feel safe.”

“i’m sorry, what?”

he wonders what kind of miracle blessing he must’ve committed for you to even think about expressing such a thought. “are you feeling sick? what’s wrong with you?” he pinches your cheek with an unamused look as your giggles bounce off the walls. he turns to leave without a second thought, trying his best to suppress his feelings.

“hey — i was being genuine !” you hug him from behind with a soft smile.

“right, and i’m a human being.” he rolls his eyes as he attempts to push you away, with very little reluctance at your affection. thought he doesn’t believe your words, for ehem obvious reasons, he still feels the slightest bit overjoyed at the prospect of your words being genuine.

YAE MIKO — 八重神子

“you make me fee safe.”

“well, aren’t you a charmer, my dear?” miko gives you a sly smile before taking another sip of her saké. “which book did you steal that line from, hmm?” she laughed softly, patting your head gently as consolation for her teasing. you pouted at the playful touch but she was far from deterred. the moment she pulled back, she had a mischievous glint in her eyes. “do you have a way of showing me your words are true, darling?”

you roll your eyes at her shamelessness, reaching up to pull her in by wrapping your arms around her neck to oblige her romantic request. she gives you a final sly grin before leaving a soft yet passionate kiss on your lips.

“hmm..i’m still not convinced.” she giggles, pulling you in once again. you were in for quite the long afternoon..

S. KOKOMI — 珊瑚宫心海

“hey koko,” she hums gently, looking up at you with drowsy eyes, “you make me feel safe.”

it was honestly like you shook her with electro itself, or like she poured hot tea over herself with the way she instantly woke up; the biggest smile beginning to adorn her gorgeous features. kokomi sighs pleasantly, gazing at you with pure devotion before getting up to hold both of your hands in hers.

“i’ve had many people express such a sentiment, but hearing it from you..it means so much more.” she leaves a trail of chaste kisses across your cheeks before leaving a final one on your lips.

“did you read some sort of book on how to attack the divine priestess’s heart? because it’s very hard to not fall deeper in love with you.”

A. ITTO — 荒泷一斗

“you make me feel safe.”

itto nearly gave himself a concussion with the way his head instantly shot up and then proceeded to hit the large branch above him. you were simply aiding him in finding some onikabuto, what was that phrase for ?! he shook his head to shoo away the dizziness before stabilising himself on the tree beside him with a goofy grin, “well of course you’d feel safe around me ! look at me man, strong as an ox !!” he started flexing subconsciously out of nervousness, your affectionate laughter filling him with warmth.

he took a quick glance at you before trapping you in a sudden rib-crushing hug. “you are too adorable for your own good.” he smiles and squeezes you in tighter with a kiss.

“you’re one to talk, love.”

he feigns an insulted expression and points at himself with dramatics, “heyhey, i’m not adorable i’m cool, there’s a difference!”

CYNO — 赛诺

“you make me feel safe.”

cyno looks at you confused, his head tilting lightly to the side. “it is an honour to make you feel that way, i’m glad to be of service.. but what brought this on?” you hugged him quietly, he pulled you in closer yet he still craved some sort of verbal answer from you.

you thought for a bit before answering, “dunno, it just feels natural to say stuff like that with you, you know?” he absentmindedly smiled at you, kissing your forehead as a reply. “it feels natural saying puns around you.” he mumbles.

“i’ll take everything i just said back, cyno.” you flicked his nose, a small grin landing on his face as a result. “you love me but not my jokes? how disrespectful.”

KAVEH — 卡维

“you make me feel safe.”

“i don’t think i’ve done anything to receive such a grandiose sentiment from you, love.” he nonchalantly mutters as he continues on his recent sketch. your frown doesn’t escape his gaze and he can feel his heart clench with guilt at the thought of making you feel upset at the cause of his own insecurity.

you walk over to him and hug his back and he can’t help but lean in to your touch, “sorry — i appreciate your words, really, you’re too good to me.”

you nuzzle closer to him before mumbling, “next time you disregard my love i’m gonna bite you.” you chuckle and it makes him feel slightly less embarrassed for his lack of response. he turns around and places a gentle kiss onto your forehead and you hum happily against the contact.

“i love you so much.”

©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost <3

[ode2rin]

behind you

pairing. chigiri hyoma x gn!reader

at the tender age of seven, you understood that being left behind was not an option. in your innocent and pure heart, you knew that you belonged right by his side.

“hyoma, wait for me!” you called out, your voice filled with a mix of breathlessness and determination as you chased after your best friend.

chigiri slowed down and turned towards you, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. his glossy pink eyes shimmered with excitement, inviting you to join in his playful game.

“come on, catch up! or else i might just leave you behind!” he playfully challenged.

and so, with one single goal in mind, you poured every ounce of energy into your small legs, pushing yourself to run faster.

you had to catch up to him.

yet, you never did.

now, in your early adulthood, with longer legs that have grown along with you, you find yourself reflecting on those childhood races.

the distance between you remains, and all you can do is watch his back.

it has become your familiar scenery, an all-too-familiar ache in your chest that accompanies being in love with someone you can't have—your best friend, chigiri hyoma.

that's how it has always been, ever since.

you've watched his back as he is surrounded by countless girls in your school, professing their love for him left and right, while yours stays hidden like a sacred prayer in the chambers of your heart.

you've watched his back as he turns away from his locker, brimming with valentine's chocolates, while yours weighs heavily in your pocket, seemingly unable to contain everything you wished for him to know.

you've watched his back as he walks onto the field, his eyes fixed on the goal ahead. you feel a rush of pride as he scores, his agility and grace filling you with wonder. you want to shout his name, to tell him how amazing he is, but you hold back, afraid of breaking the spell that binds your friendship.

you've watched his back as you reach out your hand to reassure him that everything will be alright, that his injuries won't tarnish the striker within him, that in your eyes, he remains the best.

but in all those moments, all you can do is stay behind him.

because you're slow, and there's nothing he hates more than slowpokes.

you were slow to express your feelings, always a step behind the swarm of girls vying for his attention.

you were slow to place your chocolates in his locker, missing the chance for him to see them—and to see you.

you were slow to let your cheer be heard, holding back as your voice fell behind the screams of his name from others.

and you were slow to reach him when he fell, too slow to catch him before he hit the ground of hopelessness.

and so, all you can do is watch his back, silently chanting that perhaps, just once in your life, he will turn around and truly see you.

maybe he did notice, all those times you whispered your prayers into the wind. perhaps he caught glimpses of you, but each time, you were just slow enough not to meet his gaze before he looked away.

but as you yearn for his affection in return, you understand that the true beauty of your friendship lies in its unwavering support, in being the one he can always depend on. so you continue to stay behind him, holding onto the hope that one day, when the stars align just so, he will turn around, and the yearning in your hearts will find solace in a single profound moment where your eyes finally meet, and neither of you can bring yourselves to look away.

note. ik ik it's word vomit once again (it's my forte atp), was not really planning on sharing this but i was threatened/j . just thought abt it randomly bec i love love love bestfriends who are total idiots (look me in the eyes n tell me chigiri isn't meant for bffs to lovers) that pines for each other (and the angst that comes w it). but here goes nothing!

𓆩♡𓆪 for the ever so lovely, @angelchigiri

part 2 here!

[bookshelf-dust]

the hurt is good

part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi

billy hargrove x fem!reader

word count: 5,163

warnings: swearing, cops, talk of jail/billy's abuse, neil, fluff and love

a/n: well, here it is. this is the very last part of my very first series. i am very proud of the ending i've created for these two. i like to think i've given billy what he deserved. i'm so grateful for all of the feedback and support you've given me on the previous parts. also, a part of this relies heavily on hopper’s letter from season 3, so that’s that, and then some of his other dialogue. i’ve found that it fit billy effortlessly. i really hope you enjoy this and maybe find some solace in it. i love you all <333

before you read, listen to: time after time by cyndi lauper and/or the promise by when in rome

————

The first night without Neil, Hopper sits in his car outside the house. He promised no one would hurt them. He means it.

Nicky went to high school with both Hopper and Joyce. In fact, she was suspended for dealing them weed under the bleachers at one point. She regrets nothing to this day.

Because of that, it really wasn’t too difficult to have a heart-to-heart with the man, to get him to sit down with Billy. And Max and you. Susan.

Hopper had shown up at the house to speak with Neil. When he arrived, he told you to keep Billy in his room, though that hadn’t mattered. The second Billy realized he might actually get out of this, that he might live without fear of his own father, he buried his face in your chest, tears wetting your collarbones, your t-shirt.

You’d let him get it all out, stroking his loose and frizzy curls, occasionally laying your hands over his ears to muffle any shouting. Billy squeezed you each time you did so.

Even if he was a little hopeful this might work, Billy couldn’t help but think about that night when he was a kid. When his mama left him with Neil.

He’d sat on his bedroom floor, trying to be quiet while his dad showered, pleading with her.

“Please mom, don’t do this. Please come home.”

“How long? How long?”

“I miss you.”

She was the last person he felt safe with, before you. And she’d gone, leaving her boy with him. Trapped. Part of him wasn’t sure this would work out. He’d hoped for so long that his mother would return, and she hadn’t. Neil had dictated everything in Billy’s life so far, so how was it possible for anything to change?

Hopper had given Neil Hargrove one option.

“You’re gonna sign these papers,” he’d said, gesturing at the divorce packet lying on the table, “and I’m going to quietly take you down to the station and expose you for the piece of shit you are. Lock you up for abusing your child.”

Neil had started screaming about how Hopper had no right to do any of this, to barge into his home claiming all of this.

“Sure, yeah, pitch a fit. Like that’s gonna change anything,” Hopper said, entertained by the fact that Neil was acting like the victim.

During one of the intervals where your hands were pressed to Billy’s ears, the hoop in the left one biting into your palm, you’d caught something Hopper said.

“I suggest you shut your mouth before you give me something else to report.” By the tone in his voice, you could imagine that he was inches from Neil’s face.

“You’re a coward,” Hopper had said. “Beating on your kid because your life didn’t turn out right. Well let me tell you something, that’s not his fault. It’s yours.”

There’d been a knock on Billy’s bedroom door followed by Hop’s gruff voice. 

“Y/N, kiddo can I have a minute with you?”

Billy had looked up at you, eyes puffy. “I’ll be right back baby, I’m not leaving, I promise.”

You’d pressed a kiss to his forehead, and he’d held onto your hand until it was too far out of his reach.

Shutting the door carefully behind you, you’d looked at him. “We’re taking him away,” he said.

You blinked. “Really?”

“Really. He signed, so Susan is good to go.”

Hopper considered letting Neil run away, making him just disappear, but he didn’t want to chance him doing this to someone else. He’d already done that once though, hadn’t he?

“I’m really proud of you for helping him through this, kid. You remind me of your mom.”

His hand had been warm on your shoulder.

“If you want me to be honest, he’s lucky this prison isn’t very big. But that doesn’t mean nothing will happen if others figure out what he’s in for.”

You nodded, knowingly.

“Powell and Callahan just got here. We’re gonna be quiet. No lights, nothing. I don’t want to make this worse for Billy. But if he wants to see, we’re going soon.”

“Thank you, Hopper,” you’d said, hugging him. He’d let you. He’d had his fair share of a shitty father as a kid. Helping someone like Billy is something he’d always wanted to do.

Back in Billy’s room, you’d taken his face in your hands.

“Baby, they’re taking him now. Do you want to watch or stay inside?”

His back had straightened. He knew what he wanted, and he told you as much, so you led him through to the back steps, holding his hand the whole time, Max behind you, resting her chin on her brother's arm.

Billy got to watch them shove his father in the back of a police car, hands behind his back.

He was finally free.

————

Susan pawned most of Neil's more expensive things, that way she'd have money to cover bills for a while and have something to put towards the house payment. She hadn't really been trusted with the financials when Neil was around, aside from basic spending. Now that she had two children to look after, she really didn't want to be in a bad spot.

She had a feeling most newly divorced women would use the money to buy themselves something nice, but she didn't see any point in that. This wasn't about her. This was about making a life where Billy and Max could feel safe.

Even if Billy had whined about it to you at first, having dinner with Max and Susan at least three times a week to start was helping. And he would never admit this, but Susan was actually a pretty damn good cook. Whenever she'd prepared food pre-inmate Neil, they'd been kind of shitty. Billy supposed this had been her tiny form of protest.

It's pretty late now, but Billy is sprawled on the couch watching reruns of whatever. He's really not even entirely sure what's happening on tv. He thinks this might be Cheers. It's the fact that he can be on the couch that he's doing it. He doesn't have any particular reason to hide in his room unless he wants to.

He's missed this couch. It's the same one he's sat on since he was a kid. Since his mother was still around. It was one of the few items that made it to Hawkins when they moved.

Susan has the day off tomorrow. She said so at dinner. Hence why she's still up.

Billy hears her footsteps and looks up when she walks into the room. She gives him a gentle smile.

"I'm making Max some hot chocolate. You feel like some? I have marshmallows too, if you want those."

"Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks."

She smiles again and then disappears for a while before returning with a mug that has a six-year-old Max's hand print on it.

Billy sits up and takes a sip. He can't remember the last time someone made him someone other than you or Nicky made him something like this.

Susan sits down a little ways away from Billy in an oversized chair that Max usually claims as her own. The only time anyone else gets to sit in it are in times like these when she's being forced to do science homework with Dustin yapping in her ear. She'd asked for help, not an entirely new lesson. Dustin did not care.

Susan starts to read a book, and Billy almost forgets she's in the room when she speaks.

"Billy?"

His eyes rove across from the television to her over the top of his mug. She sets the book down.

"I just wanted to apologize. For not doing anything to protect you from your dad. I don't really have a reason other than selfish ones, like I was afraid he'd start on me, or Max. I guess I just thought if he got it out things would be okay." She buries her face in her hands.

"God, I'm so sorry, Billy. This is your home, and I came into your life and took you away from where you'd grown up, and I never stopped to think about what it was doing to you. I was only thinking about myself."

“I should’ve helped take care of you. You were just a kid. You’re still just a kid. And I’ve done nothing but let you down. I want to be better. I’m not saying I want to replace your mom or anything, but I don’t want you to feel unsafe or unwelcome here anymore.”

Billy keeps drinking his hot chocolate but he has to hold it with both hands because they’re shaking now.

“I feel like I don’t even know you. And maybe that’s because you didn’t want to know me, or maybe because I just avoided you.”

“I’m just so sorry, Billy. I want to try. I am trying. The both of you deserve so much better and you don’t have to accept this. I just wanted you to know that and that I care about you.”

Billy is quiet and for a moment it scares Susan, but she understands he might not have anything to say. He might not want to say anything. He might be waiting until he can afford to move out of this fucking house.

But Billy finally sets his mug down. It’s empty. He looks at Susan and he nods.

“It’s okay,” he tells her. “I understand. I don’t blame you and I appreciate that you want to try. I want to try, too.”

Susan nods back, a sweet smile on her face. It’s gentle, the look she’s giving him.

Billy does understand though. His being the target of Neil’s abuse prevented both Max and Susan from it. He understands that Susan was afraid of her husband and the man that she might not have known he’d unveil to be. She was scared. He understands.

He’s willing to try. To let her in.

She stands and picks up Billy’s empty cup. “Was it okay?” she asks, “It’s just the store bought kind.”

“Yeah. Yeah it was great.”

When she grins at him she looks young. She looks tired and upset, but maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe it means change. Maybe it means she’s learning. She’s trying.

————

“Wear mine.”

Billy looks at you through the mirror in front of which he’s been primping. He claims he doesn’t like it when you say he’s “getting pretty.” His blush says otherwise.

“Yours?”

He rolls his eyes and puts down the hairspray he was holding. “Yeah. It’s fuckin’ cold tonight. Just put mine on. I don’t want you to walk all the way back to your house just to get something I have.”

You snort, making for his closet door. “All the way back?”

He bumps your hip with his, a common you-little-shit gesture.

“Because I live so far away.” You greet the pornstar taped to the thin wood before sliding it open.

“Should be on the right,” Billy says, ignoring your comment and shoving cologne down the front of his pants while you aren’t looking. It’s a habit at this point. Shit, he doesn’t even think about it, and he knows he doesn’t have to impress you.

You push around the clothing hanging in his closet, a couple button-ups, leather, a sweater you’ve never seen him in. It’s this cream color, thick and cable knit. You pull it out. 

“How come you don’t wear this?” you ask, holding it up to him. He unsnaps another button from his shirt and your eyes follow the movement even though you don’t mean to ogle. 

Billy looks the sweater up and down like it’s grossing him out. “I wore it once,” he tells you.

“Once,” you mock playfully, putting the shirt back into his closet.

Billy’s hands are on your hips in an instant, spinning you around. “I thought you were getting a jacket, not raiding my belongings.”

You stick your tongue out at him. It’s childish and you know it, but you do it anyway. He smacks your ass in retaliation, and you go to squeeze his but he grabs your wrist, pulling it to his mouth so that he can kiss your pulse point.

“Barf.” The voice makes you turn your head, and Max has pushed the door open fully where it had been cracked. 

“Hi, Max,” you say, pulling your hand from Billy’s grasp, even if he pouts, and moving to actually retrieve the denim jacket you’d been instructed to wear. 

You can feel Billy and Max staring at each other. “What do you need?” he asks her. 

“Just came to see if we were planning on leaving today or if I should maybe hitch a ride elsewhere.” She enters the room and sits down on the edge of her brother’s bed. 

Billy glances at his watch. “You said to have you at El’s by seven-thirty. We’ve got time.” 

She crosses her arms and Billy faces the mirror again. He thinks he’s finished. “Did you even finish packing your bag, shithead?”

You shove your arms through the jacket sleeves, looking at Max. She raises her eyebrows. No, she definitely did not. There’s a flash of red hair as she hops up, and then she’s gone, the sound of dresser drawers being yanked open and shut echoing down the hall. 

You start rolling up the cuffs, and Billy reaches for the collar, adjusting it for you. You’re focused on getting your hands free when you feel Billy’s finger lifting your chin up. He brings his lips to yours, kissing you once. He pulls away and you move back in, wanting one more. He obliges, albeit grinning at your eagerness. When you’ve gotten your fill, you kiss his cheek, and that’s the one that makes him blush. 

He moves away from you, pulling on his own jacket. “I’m gonna go start the car, okay?”

“M’kay.”

Max let it slip once that Billy always went out to warm up the car before taking them to school. She wouldn’t have assumed it was for her right off the bat, but when she realized he didn’t do that when it was just him in the car, she figured out it was him being nice. Now he just does it for the both of you. You won’t ever say anything about it. 

You look at yourself in Billy’s mirror, listening to his footsteps down the hall and out into the living room. You put your hands in the pockets of his jacket, and to your surprise you feel something. It’s not spare change, or a lighter–anything you would’ve expected to find. 

It’s a sheet of paper. You pull it out, thinking it might be homework he tucked away or a receipt or something. It’s not, though. It’s notebook paper, and it’s been neatly folded like it was done with purpose. 

You sit on the edge of Billy’s bed, and unfold it. To your surprise, it’s a page covered in his handwriting, that pretty, sometimes faintly cursive scrawl. There are some lines scratched out because he used a pen and couldn’t erase. But the thing that catches your eye is the very first line. It’s just your name. It’s a letter. A letter for you. 

Your heart starts to race and you find yourself beginning to read, sinking further into his mattress. 

There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about, it reads. 

Feelings. Jesus. The truth is, for so long I’d forgotten what those were. I’ve been stuck in one place. In a cave, you might say. A deep, dark cave. And then I sat with you at lunch, and bought you a book, and suddenly you were part of my life. For the first time in a long time, I started to feel things again. I started to feel happy. 

But, tonight I’ve been feeling distant from you. Like I’m pulling away from you or something. I’m sitting here and I’m thinking about the way you looked at me that first night at the record store. The way you held on to me when I slept over for the first time. I’m not even sure if you remember it, but every time I tried to move throughout the night you whined like you were afraid I was going to leave you. Like you needed me. 

But you didn’t know about my dad or that I was falling in love with you then. And I can’t stop thinking about how I raised my voice at you when I came over today.

You pause, realizing when it was that he wrote this. The day he fought back. 

And I’ve been afraid for so long that I might turn out like him. That I might be just the same. And I’ve been scared that you might realize that too and leave me behind. But I didn’t feel that way today when you spoke to me like a human being and you wanted to work things out. I’m changing. You’re changing me. We’re changing. And I guess, if I’m being really honest, that’s what scares me. I don’t want things to change. Because there’s a part of me that worries you might still change your mind. The rest of me knows you won’t. 

So I think maybe what I’m saying is that when you didn’t know about how I felt or who I really am on the inside that it didn’t feel like I’d lose you. But now I’ve let you in and you can see all of me. And now that you’ve said you love me I really don’t want things to change. I don’t want to lose you or want you to go. 

But I know that’s naive. To think you’ll leave. That’s not who you are. I know you’d look at me and say that’s not how this is going to work. 

My whole life everyone has picked someone else over me. Left me behind. Left me on my own. And I know that’s how life works. It’s moving. Always moving and people change whether you like it or not. But you’ve taught me that change can be good. That it doesn’t always mean people changing their mind about me. About caring about me or that I’m good enough to keep around. 

And sometimes change is painful. Sometimes it’s sad and sometimes it’s surprising. 

Happy. 

So you know what? I don’t think change is bad anymore. I think I’m supposed to learn from it. I think that when life hurts, because I know parts of it are going to hurt and there will be things that always hurt, I should remember it. Because the hurt is good. It means I’m out of that cave. 

I just want you to hold my hand while I figure it all out. 

You finish reading and fold the letter back up, putting it back where you found it. You hadn’t realized you were crying, but you were, and you spend the next few minutes fixing yourself in Billy’s mirror. 

When he returns he thinks you’re the one primping. 

“Ready, baby?” he asks. “Max is in the car.”

You turn to him, and he smiles at you. That pretty, pretty smile. You kiss him on both cheeks and then shut off his bedroom light. 

“I’m ready.”

————

Billy pulls away from Hop’s cabin after dropping Max off, but he’s quick to stop the car again. 

You were quiet the whole way there. Sweet as always, no doubt, but it was clear something was bothering you. He doesn’t like it when things upset his girl. 

“What are you doing, Hargrove? We’re gonna miss the movie if you keep this up.”

He raises his eyebrows at you. “Well excuse the hell outta me, hon’.”

You slap your hands against your face, peeking through your fingers at him in hopes that he’ll go ahead and scold you.

“I want you to tell me what’s wrong, baby.” Billy doesn’t have to elaborate. You never seem to have to explain your feelings to him much anymore. It’s like he’s figuring you out, like he understands and knows when something’s bugging you or if you’re hurting. 

“It’s nothing bad, I promise,” you say.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to know.”

You nod, and reach into the pocket of the jacket, pulling free the paper. It’s seconds before Billy sees the striped sheet that he remembers what it is, what he’d left in there. 

It all comes back to him, his wrist hurting from pouring his heart out, the relief he felt at putting his feelings somewhere. 

You hand it to him. He unfolds it and scans it over. “You read it?” He knows you did.

“Yeah.” You smile shyly at him, and it’s the same smile you gave him that very first night that you came to check on him. Billy wants to kiss you, so he leans over the center console and does; he presses his mouth to your forehead, warm and sweet. His presence is all-encompassing: heady cologne, minty gum. So very Billy. So much like home. 

He hands the paper back to you. “Feelings, huh?” he says, his mouth pulling up at the corners. 

“Feelings.”

You sandwich your hands between your thighs, taking a deep breath. Your eyes start to water and you can’t help it.

“Billy, I would never leave you, okay?” You were hoping the tears wouldn’t spill over, but it doesn’t matter because your voice fails you. It wavers and you sound fragile, young. And then he’s taking your face in his hands, wiping under your eyes even though there isn’t anything to wipe yet, just soothing motions over the apples of your cheeks, calloused thumbs and warm skin.

He stares at you, his eye contact unbreaking. When he looks at you like that, blue eyes boring into yours, you can’t help but feel a little full. Because he’s looking at you like that. You. 

“I know that. I know.”

You nod, and he nods with you, so much that it looks silly, the both of you nodding, and you start to laugh. 

“I made you feel that way? Really?”

“Of course you did,” Billy says. “My whole life I’ve felt like I’m like a black hole or somethin’. You don’t make me feel that way.”

Your heart aches for him. For this boy who’s had no one tell him how good he is. Who’s finally let you in. Who’s finally realized he can have better, and that he deserves to. 

“I love you, Billy.”

He kisses you on each cheek, your face warm against his lips. He grins and you can feel it on your face. 

“I love you too.”

When you get to the movie theater, you do pay for popcorn, and you do hand him the snacks you kept in your bag after you take your seats. Your mother said movie candy was getting much too expensive. 

You pop a handful of Sno Caps in your mouth, and Billy opens his mouth. You sprinkle some in his, and then reach for his hand. 

He looks down at your clasped fingers while a kid almost faceplants with a bucket of popcorn on the way up the stairs. Thankfully their father caught them first. 

“You did say you wanted me to hold your hand.”

“I did,” Billy says.

—————

“Sit still, I’ll be right back, I swear.”

Billy crosses his arms, but it’s hard for him to look entirely brooding when he’s got plum shadow on his eyelids. You stand. “Here, Max, supervise.” You hand her the brush between your fingers, and she snorts at her brother from where she lays across your bed. 

You make for the living room, suppressing a grin at the sounds of laughter emanating from the area. Susan and Nicky sit on opposite sides of the couch, watching The Golden Girls and talking about whatever it is that mothers-of-dating-children talk about. 

“Mom,” you say, coming to a stop in front of her. 

“Hi, honeybee. What’s the matter?” 

“Can I use some of your makeup? There’s some things you’ve got that I haven’t and–”

She smiles at you, adjusting the well-loved pillow squished behind her back. “You know you can. Whatever you need.”

Her grin is contagious, and you find yourself smiling back just the same. “Thank you.”

She nods. “Playing dress up?” Your mother gives you a knowing look, thinking about the idea you’d had in mind ever since you watched Rocky Horror with Billy that first time. 

“You could say so,” you tell her, and then you’re off to raid her bathroom cabinet, pulling free the large and full bag of goodies. 

You start to rifle through the corduroy pouch, but decide it’d be easier to take the whole thing with you to your room, so that’s what you do.

When you return, you settle on your knees in front of your boyfriend, still finding it odd that you get to call him that now, even if that is exactly what he is to you. Your pretty, pretty boyfriend. Your boyfriend who’s letting you do his makeup. 

Max hands you your brush back, raising herself up on her elbows so that she can watch the show better.

“Hi,” you say to him, pressing a kiss on the tip of his nose. 

“Hi,” he responds, his voice showing all signs that he’s both enjoying this, yet also grumping about the fact that he let you do it in the first place. He settles back on his hands, legs spread so that you can sit in between them and reach him. You pull free both the pencil of thick liner you’d been looking for, and a pot of blush you know to be much pinker than the one you’ve got. Yours has also been broken on multiple occasions so that now it’s just little bits of pink powder sliding around in the pan. 

You uncap the liner first, a warm brown shade, clearly freshly sharpened by your mother. “Close your eyes, pretty please,” you tell him. He obliges, lids fluttering shut. 

You reach out, and starting to drag the tip of the pencil across his skin, you realize your hand isn’t as steady as you’d like, considering the fact that you’re also half-focused on not kneeing Billy in a place you’re quite sure he’d prefer to not be kneed. 

You let out a frustrated sigh, and Billy blinks up at you. “What’s wrong?”

“This isn’t working. Just–” You shove the eyeliner pencil into his hands, and then move from between his legs. You grip his calves and move his legs together, then crawl forwards a little and straddle his lap.

He grins up at you, a cocky and mischievous look. “Comfy?”

“Shut up and close your eyes again.”

“Well you don’t want much.” 

You pinch the squish of his side and he swats blindly at your arm. You take Billy’s face in your hand, resting the pinky of your dominant one against his cheekbone. This go around you’re able to drag the liner effectively across his eyelid. A tap at his face signals he needs to look up, and when he does, you do the same to his lower hip. Afterwards, you take a super small brush that Max found and use it to smudge the eyeliner out some, that way the lines aren’t so harsh.

You finish and take Billy’s face in your hands again, turning it to face Max. “Thoughts?”

She taps her chin, though smiling all the same. “Very nice.”

With a little more manhandling, you get some mascara on those lashes of his, though not without a little pleased squeaking in the process. It’s at the blush that you get excited enough to make him laugh. You swipe your brush heavily across his cheeks, and then the tip of his nose, where you’re probably much too generous. You don’t care. He looks so, so pretty, all blushy like this. 

“Part your lips.” You say, thumb tugging at his bottom one. You put a gloss on Billy’s lips and almost lose it for good. He’s so gorgeous. 

When you finish, you wipe your hands clean on a towel and back up a little ways from him to survey your work. 

You clap your hands. “Max, help me. Would you look at this?”

She does, laughing gleefully. “Oh my god, this is so good.”

You look Billy in the eyes, and Max hops up off of your bed to get a better look. “You look so gorgeous, my love.”

He’s thankful for the blush in that moment, because without it you’d see the effect your using that name had on him. 

“Thank you,” he says.

“Wanna see?” God, you look so happy.

“Do I have to?”

You bite your lip and Billy pulls it free, taking the little handheld mirror from you. 

And, honestly, he thinks he looks kinda hot. You picked a good eyeshadow color, one that makes his blue eyes stand out even more, and he just looks pretty. Just as you’d said. 

“Do you like it?”

“Yes. You did a very good job.”

He goes to kiss you, but you stop him. “Nope. You’ll mess up my work!”

Billy rolls his eyes and flips Max a bird when he sees her giggling at your enthusiasm and his compliance. 

“Can I take a picture?” you ask. 

Billy holds up his hands. “Oh hell no.”

“Billy, she needs to document her masterpiece,” Max says, though really she knows it’d make great blackmail. That and she loves how happy the both of you seem. She’d like to remember this too. 

“Please?” You give him your very best puppy dog eyes, making sure they’re watery and everything. You know he’ll give in. 

“Fine. But you show this to anyone, and you’re both dead.”

You laugh, grabbing for your Polaroid camera. “Who the fuck do you think I’m gonna show? Everyone I know is in this room.”

Billy’s smiles then, and you’re just quick enough to catch it. You get another after you kiss his sparkly forehead. And when you’ve finished, you stick them in the frame of your mirror so they’ll always be there. 

That night, after Max and Susan have gone home, you sit in the bathroom to help Billy wash the makeup off, but only when you’d let Nicky see, and she thought he looked stunning. Showstopping, she’d said. 

And it’s then, as you wipe the rosy tinge from his cheeks, revealing his freckles once again, that you realize months before this you’d been so alone. You’d ached for a moment like this. 

And here you were. So even if the journey to get here had hurt, even if it’d been hard and pushed you to your limits, it’s okay. Because that’s how life works. It hurts sometimes. And that’s okay. 

Because the hurt? The hurt is good.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[rollinouttahere-writes]

This question might be off topic..👀 or strange perhaps.

In your opinion , how do you think other Strawhats if each of them were in Luffy's place instead and instead of Ace , Luffy died at Marineford?

I am trying to find a way to draw other Strawhats but slightly having troubles with finding best devasted like poses/things they's do upon such trauma☆

This wound up focusing a lot more on the long term aftermath than the initial devastation because I believe it would be pretty similar for everyone (whole lot of screaming and crying), but I hope you still find this useful or at least fun to read.

In the event of Luffy dying at Marineford, everyone would be in shambles. Whitebeard (assuming he lives) would offer them a place to stay on his ship while they regroup and try to grapple with the trauma of what happened. He isn't forcing them to join his crew or anything. They're free to go whenever they please, but he would also welcome them with open arms should they choose to stay.

Zoro splits off almost immediately and returns to his life as a bounty hunter. He is very much still pursuing his goal, just in solitude. He is constantly being inundated with invitations to other pirate crews, but he rejects all of them (sometimes violently). Luffy is the only person he will ever all captain. He blames himself a lot for his death. He was supposed to support and protect his captain, but he failed miserably. He's even more cold and removed than he used to be, and he'll never let anyone else in again. He also drinks more, to the point that it becomes genuinely concerning.

Nami also leaves, but takes more time to do so. She claims that she's only going back to Cocoyasi village temporarily so that she can process everything that has happened around familiar faces, but she never sets foot in the Grand Line again. Luffy was her safety net. Even in the most scary and intense situations, she could find solace in the reassurance that Luffy would be there to handle it... But now he isn't. He's gone forever and she feels lost without him. The Grand Line is much more scary without him leading the way. She will eventually start venturing around the Blues, but that is it.

Usopp cannot handle the survivor's guilt. He latches onto the Sogeking persona to cope after Luffy's death. It becomes extremely rare to see him without the mask, and he doesn't even respond to hearing the name Usopp anymore. He wants to go home so bad, but he can't bring himself to. He can't stomach having to look everyone there in the eye and telling them why he's back. Now would be a great time for Yassop to step up and be a father, but he's nowhere to be seen so Whitebeard steps up to the plate. He supports Usopp and actually talks him through the intense grief that is choking him. It takes time, but Whitebeard does succeed in making Usopp take of his physical and metaphorical mask by properly addressing his emotions on the matter. Usopp decides to stay with the Whitebeard Pirates and accepts becoming one of Whitebeard's sons.

Sanji is devastated. He wanted to leave immediately, but waited around for Nami to be ready to go before heading back to the East Blue. Sanji goes back to the Baratie and refuses to talk about what happened. He blames himself intensely for not being there for the battle and fully believes that it's his fault that Luffy is dead. On top of his smoking habit, he starts drinking. Everything feels so hollow now, and nothing will fill that emptiness. The only times that Zeff or the other Baratie staff members get a glimpse of the old Sanji is when Nami stops by to visit with him. Even then, he's much more subdued. He never really recovers from this and has abandoned the idea of ever finding the All Blue.

Chopper is inconsolable after Luffy's death. He feels like a failure as a doctor for not being able to save him even though there was nothing that he could do. He also chooses to stay with the Whitebeard Pirates and becomes Marco's apprentice. As devastated as he is by Luffy's death, he copes with it relatively well by throwing himself into an education. He does becomes obsessed with curing Whitebeard, however. He can't stand to watch two captains die back to back.

Robin up and vanishes as soon as night comes. This breaks her. She fully believes that Luffy's death was her fault. Someone finally loved and accepted her and look what happened to him. As far as she's concerned, she's cursed. Naturally, she distances herself from literally everyone. She refuses to let anyone else die because of her. She'll spend the rest of her life in solitude, and it probably won't take very long for that to happen.

Franky goes back to Water 7 with the Thousand Sunny after confirming that the Straw Hats were disbanding and that no one else wanted it. He makes the ship into a memorial for Luffy and takes meticulous care of it. While the death absolutely does hurt him, he copes with it the best out of anyone. He is no stranger to grief, and he bounces back relatively quick. He works for Galley-La designing ships, as well as doing so as a hobby.

Brook is similar to Robin in the sense that he believes that he is cursed. He finally let someone in and joined another crew, only for the captain to die almost immediately. He resolves to never join another pirate crew. Unlike Robin, he doesn't completely sink into despair. He pours all of his pain into music, and you can find a lot of clear inspiration from Luffy and other Straw Hats in his music. He also takes the time to visit Laboon whenever he can. He doesn't want the poor thing to be abandoned all over again.

Bonus round for Ace. Ace will never emotionally recover from this, and his grief is messy. He alternates between hysteric sobbing and an uncontrollable rage. One moment he'll be begging a god that he doesn't even believe in to give Luffy back and take him instead, but the next second he'll be destroying everything in arms reach while scream his throat raw. He's cursing Luffy for being a damned martyr. For putting himself somewhere he had no business to be. For leaving him to pick up the broken pieces in Luffy's wake. There is a noticeable improvement in his psyche once he reunites with Sabo and realizes he isn't the last brother left alive, but he is never truly the same after Luffy's death. It should have been him. He is very much at risk of dying not long after Luffy because if Garp doesn't kill Akainu, he will. And he will die trying.