#instead of that disappointing shade of blue | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fluorynn · 7 months

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〴 🔗 — ᴀ ᴛɪɴʏ Qᴜᴀʀɪᴛᴄʜ ɴᴏᴡ, ᴡʜᴀᴛ’ᴅ ʏᴀ ꜱᴀʏ?

〴 ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢꜱ : recom!miles quaritch ✘ fem!reader

〴 ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ : 4.3k

〴 ɢᴇɴʀᴇ / ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ : SMUT, no plot, Quaritch got a breeding kink, masturbation with an audience, teasing, vaginal sex, mentions of oral sex, choking? ( Quaritch receiving it, I am FERAL when it comes to those dog tags of his—) unprotected sex, squirting, creampie, explicit language

〴 ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀꜱ ʙʏ : @cafekitsune !!!

〴 a/n : Well… this is unexplainable, lol. One of my first times writing smut for Quaritch — for any big blue alien, lol🥲 Imma admit, I didn’t see him in this way at the beginning but the more I watched the movie, the more I realized he had no right being this FINE😭 anyways, im getting this out the way so I can continue with Neteyam’s series !!! Enjoy !!! <33

“Darlin’, jus’ move yer hand f’me. C’mon—”

The rather swollen lower lip of Quaritch’s lolled once more between his teeth. The corners of his mouth had elevated into a smirk. One that brought a prominent twinkle to his gold hues, one that clashed with the silver around his neck, dog tags dangling across his chiseled pecs down to the planes of his stomach. Of course, the breathing mask was also dangling his neck, but it seemed to be long forgotten by the recom with every breath he stole from you.

Constricting was the word to describe his lengthy abdomen, for the way he restrained himself with his entire abnormal strength from plunging forward into your tiny entrance, and the assistance of the small facility’s dim lights and perspiration coating his azure tones sent another jolt down to your stomach.

“M-Miles, baby, it’s not gonna go in—”

A ‘tsk’ hissed from between his teeth, lips puckering in that feigning disappointing manner, and a deep exhale emerged from you. The pink flesh of your walls fluttered around the imperceptible even though Quaritch’s plump, softly glowing tip stroked at your entrance, your small hands applying the slightest of pressure to his lower stomach.

His head couldn’t help but tilt in wonder while a dimple showed between his brows. Really, he could just ignore your commentary, ignore the way the small length of your fingers pushed at his lower stomach in order to keep him from moving forward and use his much stronger force. But how could he ignore that cute panic striking your eyes? He couldn’t be that harsh with you.

So instead, the large expanse of his thumb reached to gently push your jaw up to look at him. “ ‘T’s always the same thing with you, cupcake. Sayin’ it won’t go in, and yet ev’ry time, it does.”

Another lustful glaze of honey spiraled over his irises, making their shade darker, sponging those now dilating pupils of his as he glanced down your bare body and disheveled attire. His stupidly large hands and sharp canines had torn it to pieces, until your breasts were liberated and your weeping hole clenched from the cool air.

Your round eyes couldn’t evict from analyzing every tiny detail of his breathtaking face; at the way those lines upon his forehead wrinkled with his stifled grunts, how his brow quirked as his golden gaze devoured your every curve, at how his smiling mouth was moistened with your essence and was a reminder to how mere seconds ago, that feline-like tongue of his was between your legs, deliriously assaulting your clit, that Cheshire Cat smile sprawled across his face as he looked up at your crumbled expression.

The luminous freckles across his cheeks and flat nose were shining even more with his sweat and your slick, and the ones trailing down the lean length of his body glittered and entranced you.

His features were sinister, lips curling over his teeth while the rest remained hard. “I won’t repeat myself, cupcake; move. Your. Hand.” His honed incisors found their spot below your jawline, finding the faint puncture they’d left minutes ago and enhanced the mark once more as they sank in.

That was when your jaw went slack, lips shaping a pretty ‘O’ while the smallness of your palms pressed over the nape of his damp neck, fingers winding over the curve of his head.

Quaritch inundated every one of your senses; his scent wavered your atmosphere, his ridiculously long frame lumbering and hiding your petite one from any other’s vision, the coolness of his dog tags grazing the sensitive flesh of your breasts and equally as biting as the way his canines did.

Heat liquified through your entire body, walls elongating beyond constructing capacity the second your cunt consumed him entirely. “F-fuck—”

Quaritch thrusted forward, half of his widthful cock disappearing between your legs, and the tiny bed below created a screeching creak from the act. A dribble of sweat shun between his brows as he grunted a low cuss word, teeth grinding together at the way your little cunt tightened around him.

“ almos’ ‘ere, doll, almos’ ‘ere.” he crooned, thumb rising to stroke the damp locks over your temple, eliciting a muffled whimper from your throat.

Inhaling another sharp breath, glowing orbs peered into yours and with a small bob of your head, the other half of his shaft soon followed until his pelvis hovered over yours. All 10 plus inches stretching you out. Those eyes of his were blown out now as he stared down, being met with a subtle, so very subtle curve shadowing the flesh of your upper stomach — not only his eyes were abroad but so was that smirk of his as his hand went over the expanse of your belly, the outer shape of his cock, calloused fingertips grazing over the swollen flesh.

“Well, wouldja look at that beauty…ain’t it, darlin’?”

Ever so lightly he pushed down, and when he did, whine after whine flew up your lungs. He didn’t dare to move though, not until you gave him the green signal that he could, giving you time to modify and gain control of your inhales and exhales.

Quaritch was no better though, not while he stroked the bulge within your lower abdomen, not while you tried pulling him even closer, sputtering out a low chuckle and jittered breath before raising his mask to take another deep and long inhale. “ ‘N here ya thought it wouldn’t go in—”

He was cut off by the way your dainty hand winded around the loose silver drooping across his chest, wrapping it tightly around each length of your fingers until inches away from the base of his throat. His eyes widened at the sight of yours; round, devoured with lust. “Fuck me, Quaritch.”

His rasped chuckle pulsated through your insides, and a low groan erupted past his mouth when you squeezed around him as the octave of his mocking laughter picked within the deepest parts of you. “Patience, darlin’. Don’t wanna ruin little you if ya don’t give both of us a minute—”

His voice faded amongst the thick air, words caught in his throat with every twist and wind his dog tags made, clinking faintly against the other as your knuckles were practically burying against the blue flesh of his throat, nearly leaving no passage for air to transmit through.

“Ruin me.”

“Well ain’t ya a pretty brat—”

You huffed, hands releasing his necklace and pushed him away. This caused Quaritch to stumble and lose his balance, knees digging into the delicate mattress and hoisting himself up as you slid away from him, tight cunt releasing him with a wet pop that made the both of you moan out loud. He was about to protest as to why you moved, why you turned away from him but all he could do was let his eyes follow the way you got on your knees, follow the way the pretty arch of your back descended down to the curve of your ass; so round, so fucking eye capturing and mouth watering that he has to restrain himself from craning forward to take a sharp bite.

You felt him watching, felt the way those amber irises flickered into specks that soon flowed through you, gathering and igniting down your body and between your thighs as they rubbed together to add friction to the burn. Reaching next to the bedside, you had to prop yourself on your forearms in order to grab what you desired, leaving your whole ass up in the air and in perfect display for the avatar.

Ears chirped high, tail lashing in anticipation the more you arched, abdomen pressed into the white sheets. His palm had slithered down his stomach, fingers wrapping themselves around his cock and tightening at the base when your adorable fingers reached back and parted the globes of your ass, parting them so fucking prettily until both your holes were calling out to him.

“Ruin me, Quaritch.”

“I’ll be damned…” Lithe and swift was his movement as he rose up, and even on his knees his large body still lurched over you when he scooted closer, not caring for the bed’s possible break and the sound of his palm meeting your ass blocked out the creaking.

“Whatever occurred to ‘won’t go in’, huh?” He taunted you, yet you had felt him align himself once more, tip kissing your awaiting hole. He couldn’t help but slip in just an inch for the way you were drenched. Slick were your puffy lips, cascading down the inner angles of your thighs. Quaritch thought a little teasing never hurt anyone, so he was quick to slide out as soon as he slid in.

Desperate little thing you were, squirming and winding your hips back for his touch, the inhuman blaze of his body mingling with yours. You couldn’t help but whine at the way his fat tip did nothing more than graze along your pussy lips, teasing right over your clit.

It hurt , it ached terribly, the sexual frustration that consumed you. “Miles,” you muttered, the call of his name ending with a whine when a single digit of his — not enough to occupy the space of his cock but lengthy enough to stretch you completely out — swirled in, the pad rubbing over your adhesive, soft walls. “Somethin’ wrong, doll?”

His arrogant voice would’ve conflicted you if it weren’t for the way his accent thickened. He took pleasure in this, smug in the way your walls became one with his thick finger, watching the way you fell apart for him; wearily moaning, pussy drooling with no shame. Not a proper fuck yet and here you were, small silhouette disintegrating amongst his touch.

The very touch of his within you that soon turned into two fingers, slow at sliding in and out with the assistance of his dick.

“Quaritch. Enough with the games.”

Nothing but another chuckle huffed out, amused at the way you moved, already scheming and toy with your pretty pussy for as long as he wanted, and you caught onto this. Screw his damn schemes.

His mouth pursed in distaste at the way you perched forward and away from his shining tip. But all he could do was roll his broad shoulder back as he tried peering at what it was that you were doing, with his throbbing cock in his hold.

His head slightly inclined to the side as he watched something come into your hold. “Whacha got there, sweetheart?”

You disregarded his question and turned over, back beautifully curling against the bedsheets and legs bent to the air, parting as far as they would allow you to. Quaritch’s nose sharply inhaled, throat being greeted with every droplet of drool collecting in his mouth at the sight of you; the pillar of your throat exposing the blemished flesh there ( thanks to his truly), head tossed back with your face tilted to the ceiling yet eyes hidden beneath closed lids. The room’s small scale of space only lets the sounds of your breathing enter its atmosphere.

Until the hum of the vibrating device in your hands was featured. Quaritch’s attention was punctured to it, allured to the way you slowly brought it lower with each second.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were ya—”

Oh but he wasn’t. And you would. Quaritch — knelt on your bed that nearly met its breaking point — was disposed of all for a cruddy toy that’s mushed up against your clit.

“S-shit— oh!”

The merciless celerity muggled the liquid pouring from your cunt, seeping through every direction and Quaritch watched in awe at the way it all came into little crystalline spheres, trickling down and pooling into an entire puddle within the disheveled sheets.

This is what you wanted from him, what you needed from him; to give you the immense pleasure this silly toy was providing for you. Yet you had to admit it was enjoyable, the way Quaritch’s sharp gaze stayed fixated on your abused clit, a twitch of his eye giving you the satisfaction that he desired to be the one making you feel this good. He desired to be the one you crumbled apart for; the one that precious pussy got demolished to. But he knew forbearance was never an easy task for you, or better yet he should know this. You weren’t in it for his foolish games at the moment.

“Desperate little thing ya are, eh?”

A coherent rejoin spewed from your lips, no sense to your words whatsoever and this made him grin widely. The bed screeched once more, this time with Quaritch’s back flat against the wall but not before bringing the delicacy of his queue over his shoulder while one of his long arms extended out and lifted your body with lithe, placing you over his upper leg, and you could feel the hardness of his cock, pushing and rubbing against the length of your spine.

Your thighs were dangerously apart from one another thanks to the firm stretch of his large thigh, repelling you from pulling away from him as the pressure of the quivers into your pulsing bud augmented when his palm, forceful and large, enveloped your much smaller one and applied pressure there.

“M-Miles, baby, w-wai—”

His chuckle reverberated within your flesh, adding onto your helpless attempt to moan out a plea. “Nah, darlin’. If ye’re that desperate for it, lemme help ya out then.”

The pressure accelerating working your lower belly was beyond ferocious, and Quaritch knew this rather quickly. He knew this for the way his ears flitted at the sound of your jumbled heartbeat and pitch of your slurs, the way his free hand engulfed your entire hip as he tugged you closer, the way he picked up the intoxicating scent of you increasing, the way he had pushed you forward and plunged one, then two thick fingers deep into your cunt and you squeezed deliciously around them, pushing you close to the edge and into the pools of ecstasy.

The adaptedness of his finger pads covered and smoothed perfectly over the mushy parts of your walls. “ ‘Atta girl, that’s it—” His gravel-like voice grazed into your breathless and sharp exhales.

“I-I’m—Miles—”

An ignition flared in Quaritch’s core, with you so fucking pressed up against him, at the knowledge of you near in becoming undone all over his hand, just for him. The more his fingers thrusted in while the flat of his palm pushed the toy deeper, the more cum oozed out; sticky and translucent lot cohereting against his blue skin and a wide smirk morphed his features, waiting to get a taste.

“Ya near, cupcake?” You chin pushed into your chest, jaw quivering as the words whined out: “Uh-huh, I-I’m close—”

“Gonna make a bigger mess f’me?”

“Y-yes—” Quaritch withdrew his hand from applying pressure and led yours — still clutching the vibrator to your pulsing clit — just right above your lower belly, right near your pelvis area. This emitted an increase of the drizzle that was already scurrying around his fingers and absorbed into the bedsheets and his outstretched leg, until its splotching sounds had clashed with the octaves of your moans.

His hand was unrelenting though, still spurting in with the same merciless force he owned despite you already reaching your peak. “Q-Quaritch, oh my— shit!”

“I gotcha, sweetheart,” he purred into your ear, the pink of his nose nuzzling over the soft skin behind. “Let it out, c’mon, let it all out f’r me.”

The immense ecstasy you had felt slowly eased, bringing you down to Pandora’s surface. The pace of his fingers settled for a slow, sensual one and they jittered slightly within you when your damp cheek fell over his flexing forearm. “That was nice,” you breathed out, peering back at him with that lovely grin of yours that he too returned.

He pulled his digits out, groaning lowly at the squelching sound your cunt created when he did. Though they were quick to latch onto the flesh of your thighs, lifting you in the air until you were pressed down against and facing him. Those supple lips of yours parted in astonishment at the way his damn dick tumescences, cushioned tip shining with the opalescent glow of his precum, sprinkled with the twinkle of his star like freckles. It was unfair how pretty it was, how pretty his entire existence was. And Quaritch knew this, his mind had grown into this form, and he knew the way it affected you by the way he grinned with pride when your lower lip protruded.

“You’d be doing us a pleasure in givin’ us a turn, sweetheart.” With a tap of his tip on your tummy, both of your hands reached behind to support your weight on his thighs as you lifted yourself up for it to bury itself in you without any trouble, your cum functioning as lubricant as you settled down halfway down.

Your whimpered “yes” was all he needed to proceed, and the length of fingers wounded over your hip, practically splaying across your back while his thumb pressed below your belly button as he slowly pushed you much further down, watching as his cock awaited filled you, twitching to deeply fill your womb with his cum.

He didn’t mind the idea, he was actually curious to see a Tiny Miles Quaritch or… what would be a good way to name the girl? — if the little plum came out blue and chubby or the peach came out neutral and gorgeous like their mama, running around, wanting to test the waters in getting you round and swollen while carrying his inhuman DNA more than one time. The thought made him spasm as he stretched you out with his entire length, until you were flushed against his pelvis.

“Oh hell,” he gritted out, watching the way your eyes peered down at his constricting torso. “Perfectly tight as always…”

Vehement he was when it came to sex, and every time, with every touch and utter, you mollified for him. Clearly, this time was no different; the feel of Quaritch tumescending in you, his dick embedded within your stomach, all the reason to bring you close once again. “M-miles, oh my god—”

“Permission to move, doll?” The frantic bobs of your head gave him the opportunity to refresh some manners in that pretty head of yours. Teeth, deadly and predatorial, excavated into the interstice where the graceful line of your neck ranged and became shoulder. He didn’t release until the tang of iron became one with his taste buds, the rough surface of his tongue wasting no time in lapping the trickle of scarlet leaving your abused skin.

A hiss whispered from your lungs, and he soon managed to sweetly stroke his wet muscle over the pain he had caused until it was nothing but pleasure. The corner of your mouth hoisted when the flexible extension of his tail coiled around your thigh, wisps of dark hair skimming across your inner thigh.

“How cute…”

“Those ain’t the words I’m waiting for, doll face.” He growled out, and you reached out to very lightly tug on his queue. “Dammit, Quaritch!—”

“ ‘Dammit, Quaritch’ ain’t the statement I was lookin’ for, now I—”

His sentence didn’t finish its near end for your palms had reached behind and planted themselves on his thighs, hips giving a slow roll before lifting your body up until the thick tip of it remained slightly in and slammed back down with a throaty moan.

His back pushed against the wall, putting the mask over his flat nose and mouth once more, and you could see the way his sly grin grew behind the fog his sharp breaths created in the mask before letting it dangle once more across his chest, bracing himself for the next of your moves.

One turned into two, two into three surprisingly hard claps your ass gave with his cock nuzzled tightly and further within your womb with each bounce, each stretch. “F-fuck, Miles, fuck me, please!” You beseeched, you whined, not caring anymore to contain yourself.

Quaritch huffed out a chuckle, a single large hand reaching over to encase both your tiny wrists, practically your forearms in the curl of his fingers and mushed them against your breasts, and his back pushed off from the wall so his other arm could curl around your entire midsection. You had no other option but to surrender full control over to the colonel without a single complaint or shift of movement, leaving it all to him.

“As you please, cupcake,” are the last words uttered before he lifted your body off his cock, only to ram you down with much more verve. He continued until the choir of huffs, moans and whimpers featured with skin plastered and slammed against one another recapitulated within the small room, the most probable outcome being that the other recom avatars and scientists could hear what was going on.

A pearlescent circlet scintillated at the base of Quaritch’s dick, disseminating over the blue tones of his shaft with every rise and fall your pussy gave him. “F-fuck, Miles, fuck, Miles….” was dragged from your hoarse throat, revealing the pretty column of it with the head tilt you gave until an ache came upon your shoulders.

“Damn, darlin’,” his voice gruffed out, vocal cords tight and visible around the muscles of his neck as every single fiber of his body tightened as well as he contained the orgasm his lower belly implored to fully release past his aching tip.

Taking advantage of the hold he had around your wrists, he tugged you forward until you sprawled over his abdomen, the pads of his thumbs rubbing soft circles over your chin and lower lip. “Y’keep squeezing around me like this, pretty thing, don’t know if I can hol’ it—”

“ ‘m sorry, M-Miles, c-can’t help it—”

Trembling, overwhelmed, and close you were to be ruined once more atop of Quaritch. Your thighs and his tail was coated with sweat and your cum that splotched with every pull down and every snap his hips gave. “D-don’t think I can keep it in, don’t think I can keep myself from cummin’ in ya—”

He had slightly pushed you back and brought your sore arms over your head, tears pearling your waterline and lashes as you both peered down between your legs; how his pretty dick disappeared and half of it would reappear once again with the slight protuberance of your belly, the thick and glowing veins accentuating his striped shaft curling inside of you in the most exhilarating and immoral way.

“N-no, please cum in me— d-don’t pull out, d-don’t hold it—”

Quaritch’s brows had pinched together, an affliction being the cause of their shape as his remorseless thrusts had settled for a slower pace, though the force did not go unrelented, and though it brought a scorching pain to settle deep within your bones and muscles, you didn’t regret it whatsoever.

“Words like that are dangerous now. Y’really want me to fill ya up, doll, with the possibility of you gettin’ pregnant?” He brought your forearms back over your chest, pressing them further in as the arm currently around you pulled away, his palm being splayed out and pushing against the small of your back until your body shaped a lovely arch; and he grinned at the fact that you let him bend you to his will.

Uncoordinated syllables spewed from your tongue, unknown to anyone else besides Quaritch for he’s seen you in this state more times than he could ever count. “Hm hmm, get me pregnant, M-Miles—”

Lax colored eyes gained another coating of color as his grin outstretched his entire face. “Hm, really?” His back hunched off the wall until his mouth hovered over your tilted down chin, palm applying more pressure to the lower column of your spine, swirling you over his dick as your whines increased in pitch. “Want a blue fleshed baby in ya? A babe that carries my genes?”

A long groan followed down the length of his throat at the narrow clench your walls gave him from his words, and you could feel every spasm his dick created in your stomach. You could feel the ooze pooling within you, knowing his restraints had been broken as Quaritch’s dick already exuded.

“A pretty baby that looks like their mama?” He grunted out, almost as if the thought excited and pained him all at once, to see a little one portraying the exactness of your lovely features.

“ Do it, Colonel. Fill me up.”

All Quaritch needed was your verbal assent, and with that, not even a second later, the coiling band within his lower stomach finally snapped, emptying his entire load in your pussy, giving into your words. Thick and boiling it was, your cunt, your own flowing with it. The increasing pressure of it became too much, pushing your own release afterwards, hybridizing with Quaritch’s cum as it seeped down his cock, still throbbing from the aftershocks within you.

His tight grip relinquished into a soft one around your arms, soon releasing them as he very carefully, very gently brought you to his front until your chin found its spot over his heaving chest, cock still buried deep inside of you, making sure that none of his seed went without purpose.

It was an entire different story when it came to aftercare, how sweet, how soft he was with you; his large palm cradling the curve of your head close while his fingers managed to reach and stroke the damp tendrils of hair pasted to your temples and cheeks, his tail setting for a protective, gentle curl around your leg, his mouth softly falling over your forehead, your cheek, your neck, shoulder, with hushed praises meeting your perspired flesh as well.

You exhaled serenely as you melted into his touch, Quaritch’s other palm flush over the small of your back while his thumb stretched to stroke your belly. Silence lumbered over the two of you, savoring in the feeling and moment until Quaritch’s rasped, accented voice had to cut in.

“A tiny Quaritch now, what’d ya say?”

“Absolutely not naming him Tiny Quaritch.”

“Nickname should be T.Q.”

#avatar the way of water #avatar james cameron #miles Quaritch x reader #recom!Quaritch x reader #Quaritch x reader smut #𝐍¥𝐑𝐑’𝐒 𝐏𝐄𝐍 !*ೃ༄#recom!miles quaritch #miles quaritch #recom!quaritch x Fem!reader smut #miles Quaritch avatar #atwow quaritch #¡¡ ŋყཞཞ !! 🪼🪼

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flowerandblood · 9 months

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The Fall from the Heavens (2)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: kissing, angst, arranged engagement, violence, swearing, bullying, chauvinism, mention of injury ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She had always felt that she lacked something – mostly when she looked in the mirror and saw instead of beautiful white hair her dark curls falling over her shoulders, which she hated with all her heart. Her eyes also had no shade of the gods, no shade of the Targaryens − her brothers laughed that her facial expressions made her look like a hamster.

She once tried, in an act of desperation, to cut her hair completely, hoping that what would grow back would be in a different shade; fortunately one of her mother's servants who brought her afternoon meal snatched the scissors out of her hand, horrified, and told her mother all about it.

That evening the future queen explained to her that there was also a Baratheon line running in Targaryen blood through her grandparents, that her cousin, Princess Rhaenys, also had dark hair.

This explanation reassured her a little, but she still felt that the gods had deprived them of something, robbing them of the looks that would prove who they were.

Fortunately, they had dragons.

Her dragoness, Larax, had beautiful silver-blue scales and shimmered wonderfully in the sunlight. She was still small and was just learning to breathe fire on command, but she was doing well and was her pride.

She visited her when she sought comfort.

She watched from the sidelines the only person among them who did not have a dragon of his own, namely her uncle, Aemond, only two years older than her. She could see that although he kept up appearances under a stony face, his suffering and disappointment was far greater than hers caused by the colour of her hair.

A Targaryen with a dragon was still a Targaryen.

But what was a Targaryen without it?

When Jace bragged to her about what they had done together with Aegon and Luke, that they had given him a pig with a wings as a joke, she said they were cruel.

She couldn't believe they thought it was funny.

At first she just wanted to see how he was doing, so knowing that he spent his days alone among the books she decided to visit him.

However, it turned out that his aloof nature was due to his caution and insecurity, his readiness to defend himself, although she had never intended to attack him. When he realised that her presence had no undertone he relaxed, even allowing her to exchange opinions with himself.

"I would like to be like Rhaenys in the future." She said softly, thinking dreamily that she was described as a woman of beauty, wisdom and dignity, able to solve many things with her shrewdness, wits, care and compassion.

She heard him snort under his breath, looking at her in disbelief, as if she had said something silly.

"Rhaenys? What's interesting about her? Visenya could fight with a sword and she rode the largest dragon still alive in this world. If I had a choice, I would marry her." He said lowly, as usual pretending to be older than he was. There was pathos in his posture and in his voice – he sat upright, comfortably sprawled in his chair, creating a semblance of confidence.

She raised an eyebrow at his words, unable to hide a smile of amusement. She saw the expression of displeasure on his face, as he clearly thought she was mocking him.

"Aegon the Conqueror thought otherwise. Out of ten nights, nine he spent with Rhaenys." She said with a wince and saw that he pressed his lips together, rolling his eyes, impatient with her remark, and shrugged his shoulders, returning to his reading.

She was really fond of him.

As a very young girl, she had given a lot of her thoughts to her future husband, knowing that as the daughter of a princess she would have her tasks, one of which would be to strengthen their lineage through marriage.

The thought that she would have to marry some boring old man by whose side she would die of despair, and with whom she would have to have many children, kept her awake at night; she wished her husband was someone closer to her in age, someone who shared her values and passions.

She wondered if it wouldn't have been better if her parents had married her to Jace − she knew him and, as his sister, loved him, so it would certainly have been easier − but on the other hand, something rejected her at the thought, she felt some kind of discomfort when she imagined their future children.

This was what she was contemplating when her mother walked into her chamber, wanting to ask her her opinion on the King's decision.

She and Aemond were betrothed.

"You may refuse, my love." Said Rhaenyra, kneeling beside her on the stone floor, taking her hands in her own, fearing apparently that this information would frighten her.

For some reason, however, she was pleased.

Although she did not have beautiful white hair, her future husband did.

She ran out of her chamber, rushing into the library like a storm, the pale face of her uncle expressing shock and fear as she approached him.

"Is it true?" She asked in a trembling voice and saw that he swallowed hard as he nodded, looking at her with wide open eyes.

She covered her face with her hand, a happy giggle escaping from her lips, her heart pounding like mad.

"I'm so happy."

To her relief, it looked as if her uncle himself had no great objections to the king's decision. He began to speak to her more, introducing her to his world, even explaining what he did during his trainings, apparently recognising that as his wife she should know what his life consisted of.

She absorbed everything he said, feeling her heart flutter with joy when he was by her side.

Though she knew it was unacceptable, she dared to ask him to let her kiss him, and after he experienced the taste of her lips, he wanted her to do it more often, though he never said it out loud.

Their kisses were innocent, short, warm and wet, on the forehead, cheek or lips. Every time she pulled away from him he smiled lazily, embarrassed – she knew he liked the feeling.

They both felt so mature then.

At his request she snuck into his chamber at night − they would lie then for hours holding hands, discussing about their future, about their children.

"When I become a rider of one of the dragons living in the caves beyond the sea, we will fly to Essos, to see the temples of Old Valyria." He said with confidence and calmness, stroking her hair in a soft, slow motion that her eyelids closed from; she loved it when he did that.

He had never tried to touch her naked body, put his hand under her nightgown or do anything else that Aegon had proudly told her about, but which she did not comprehend.

She furrowed her brow at his words, worried.

"Dragons in caves?" She asked quietly, and he nodded, swallowing loudly; she knew this topic was incredibly important to him, and he hoped to gain her support on the matter.

"Yes. Once I have a dragon, everything will be as it was meant to be. We will marry in the tradition of Old Valyria, beget our heirs, and then explore the world." He said with assurance, as if he had already planned and thought it all out carefully.

She felt warm in her heart at the thought that he had included her in everything about his life, that he saw her at his side as his companion and wife.

And then it happened.

Laena's death, her funeral and the great tragedy that followed.

That night she was roused from her sleep by the shouting of guards running down the corridor – she heard their words that the prince was injured, that he needed to be taken to the maester immediately, that there had been a fight.

With a pounding heart she put on her robe over her nightgown and ran after them semi-conscious, relieved to see her brothers, all bruised but without any wounds.

She then looked at the chair and screamed, covering her mouth, wanting to somehow silence how loud the sound was − she felt someone embrace her, her mother pulled her close, stroking her head.

"He called us bastards, mother, and he stole Vhagar!" Luke whined.

Alicent shouted to Viserys that she demanded justice for her son, but the King shook his head, looking at her uncle.

His wound was all swollen and red, a scar running across his entire left cheek, his gaze directed straight at her, dulled surely by the poppy milk to ease his pain after his eye had been taken out.

She was unable to say anything, her whole body was shaking.

"Who told you such a disgusting lie?" The King asked him, and only then did he look away from her, staring at him; she could see that he hesitated for a moment, his gaze shifting.

"Aegon."

Her mother wouldn't let her approach him despite her despair − she lied that she would be able to speak to him later, but it never happened.

They never spoke a word to each other again.

She wrote to him a letter in desperation, crying over it, having to pause several times, not knowing how she would convey to him what she was feeling, her childish mind unable to properly put into words what she was experiencing.

My dearest Prince,

know that my heart is torn by despair and disbelief. I pray for you and your health every day. I hope that as soon as you feel better we can meet. I am sending you books that I thought might interest you.

Your Rhaenys

She wrote this, not comprehending that the last thing on his mind now that he had lost his eye was to read, that he had torn up her letter as soon as he had read it, a lack of response from him made her feel even worse.

She felt he was blaming her and didn't know what to do, how to apologise to him so he would forgive her.

It turned out that there was no way she could do this, and the letters she sent to him in the months that followed were not met with a response.

The guards, on his mother's orders, would not allow anyone from their family to enter his chamber, guarded by Criston Cole himself, who, looking at her indifferently, informed her each time that the prince was unwell, needed to rest and would not receive visitors.

In addition to what had happened, she was heartbroken by what Luke had found out, what Jace had known for months, and what had been shouted in their faces that night.

They were bastards.

She felt even more defiant than ever before.

She had felt little when they moved to Dragonstone, when her mother had married her uncle, whom she had clearly loved forever, when Baela and Rhaena had joined their family.

They were sweet, kind and wise, taking her on long walks among the seaside cliffs, however, she was unable to bond with them.

Although officially their betrothal was never called off, it was clear that the King's resolve was no longer in force, the Queen suggested that any of Lord Baratheon's daughters would be a better candidate for her son, and this marriage would strengthen the royal army.

Instead, her mother thought that she, on the other hand, should marry one of her cousins of House Arryn, to secure their influence in the North and seal Eyrie's support for her cause once she was to become queen.

She was unable to find herself in this new reality, experiencing fulfilment and joy only during her solitary flights on her Larax, over the sea and high between the clouds.

To her surprise, her greatest support in her suffering turned out to be Daemon.

He saw her silent agony, he saw her emptiness, he saw her grief and he was able to reason with her, unlike her mother.

His mischievous, mocking nature reminded her in some ways of her uncle – as they walked for hours along the shore without any purpose and conversed, she felt she had regained at least part of her old life.

She liked him because he didn't treat her like a child, because he spoke to her about serious matters and didn't hide anything from her.

"Viserys is weak. He always has been. Your mother is making his mistakes, trying to hide Jace and Luke under her dress. She's trying to protect them from the inevitable." He said more to himself than to her, walking at her side with his hands entwined behind his back, looking off into the distance, his eyebrows arched in disapproval as they always did when he was frustrated.

She sighed heavily, agreeing with him in spirit, knowing what he meant.

Her mother was trying to protect them at all costs, her beloved boys, though the tension between Dragonstone and the Red Keep was greater than ever.

Something hung in the air and everyone felt it.

"And that bastard, that fucking traitor Hightower sits on the Iron Throne in his name and rules the kingdom, just as he always dreamed of doing." He hissed through clenched teeth, rage and disappointment beating from him, from which she felt her heart squeeze.

It shocked her how direct he was.

He was like a living, burning fire.

"When there's no cat, the mice scamper. Or maybe a better term would be rats." She said dryly, and he laughed out loud, glancing at her, his lips curving into a grin, a kind of contentment and pride in his eyes.

"You're like quiet water on the outside, but there's a great storm brewing inside you. I have heard that your would-be husband has become a fearsome warrior despite the lack of one eye. I fear that once you meet, heaven and earth will shake." He said with amusement and she swallowed loudly at his words, knowing he was mocking her.

"I have no grudge against him. Only he can have one towards me." She said lowly, pressing her lips together, feeling a tightness in her throat, thinking about how she had cried enough nights because of this event.

She felt him looking at her intently, a light summer breeze and the sound of the sea all around them, grey, gloomy clouds above them.

"You still haven't come to terms with it." He stated more than asked, and she swallowed loudly, feeling tears under her eyelids, shaking her head, unable to get anything else out.

"Sometimes it's better to rip your heart out than to let yourself be humiliated, to lose your dignity. Do you understand?" He asked, stopping, looking at her expectantly, with a kind of determination from which she felt discomfort in her stomach.

She stared at him with wide eyes, trying to behave as she should, trying not to break, but she burst into sobs as he pulled her close and embraced her, letting her pour out the grief that had been flowing inside her for years, which she didn't want to share with her mother or anyone else.

"– gods – I still love him –" She whined out breathing hard, clasping her hands on his thick tunic, his hand stroking her back comfortingly.

"The boy you loved no longer exists." He said lowly and she felt her heart stop.

A cold shiver went through her body, a wave of disappointment and the realisation that he was right.

When Vaemond Velaryon challenged Luke's right to inherit Driftmark it turned out, to her horror, that they had to appear in the Red Keep to discuss the matter before the King himself. Her mother wanted them all to travel there, as a whole family meant to support her younger brother.

She didn't have the strength for this reunion – she hadn't slept or eaten, thinking about flying on Larax at night and just running away.

But where to?

She thought in moments like this about how her uncle had said he would take her to Essos one day, to the kingdom of their ancestors, and she burst out sobbing again, hiding her face in her hands, listening to the sound of the rain falling outside her window.

The journey to King's Landing had been long and tiring for her − she landed on Larax alongside her foster sisters and brothers, her hair tied up in a long braid, a leather travelling attire on her body, more comfortable and giving her more freedom of movement.

They arrived in the Red Keep using the royal carriages; when she stepped outside she was struck by how smaller and tighter everything seemed to her.

She felt tense and looked uncertainly around, fearing she would see him somewhere, but that did not happen.

They were greeted by one of her grandfather's lords, the Queen not honouring them with her presence; they were informed where they would be sleeping and she shuddered when she heard she would be spending the night in her old chamber, feeling the cold sweat on the back of her neck.

Walking through the corridors of the fortress she was hit by memories from everywhere and even though this was her home, she had never felt so foreign before.

She changed with the help of servants into a more appropriate attire – her two-tone gown had bare shoulders, her long to the ground, wide sleeves were red, and the material wrapping tightly around her breasts and hips was navy blue – the colours of the Targaryens and Arryns, her expression that she supported her mother.

She wondered if she should go outside or if it would be better to stay in the chamber, but in the end she decided that she would not be a coward, that she would not allow herself to be intimidated in her own home.

Therefore, she moved alone through the familiar corridors of the Red Keep, skirting the entrance to the library, feeling her heart beating wildly.

She heard the sound of blades crossing, saw, standing in the cloisters, crowds of people surrounding a pair of warriors apparently practising hand-to-hand combat, heard applause and sounds of admiration, recognised the faces of her brothers among them.

And then she saw him, first his white hair and then his eye patch − she felt her whole body freeze, her throat squeezed so tightly that she felt like she was going to suffocate.

He was so tall that she could see his silhouette perfectly, she couldn't believe how much the man could have changed over the years.

She saw that he had said something to Luke and Jace, the sight of their horror made him grin broadly, but it was a frightening smile, a sneer that didn't reach his healthy eye, his gaze cold, amused.

It seemed to her that she saw more animal than human traits in him, his way of moving, his gait was defiant, agile.

He looked like a predator prowling around his prey.

She thought with pain that he was terrifying.

Their attention was distracted by the sound of trumpets; the gates leading into the courtyard opened and Vaemond Velaryon appeared in it, walking at the head of his retinue. She swallowed loudly as she saw his chin raised high, as if he was sure of victory in his cause even though his brother was still alive.

She saw her uncle turn towards her and walk up to one of the servants, reaching out to him impatiently, wanting him to hand him another shield and then their gazes met.

She saw the surprise and disbelief in his healthy eye; he froze and although he took what he wanted he did not turn to face Criston.

Even from a distance she could see his nostrils moving restlessly with each of his deep breaths, as if he was trying to calm himself, his jaw clenched tightly.

She didn't know why, despite the fact that he frightened her so much, despite the fact that he never answered any of her letters, she felt like throwing herself into his arms and crying, simply to say that she missed him, that she prayed every day that she would see him again.

However, before she had time to do anything under the influence of emotion he turned and nodded at Criston, immediately attacking him with his sword which swished loudly in the air, as if he wanted to take it out on him for what he had just seen.

She decided to return to her chamber, and it was only behind the door that she burst into sobs, realising what had terrified and torn her heart the most.

Daemon was right.

The boy she loved no longer exists.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

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randxmthxughts · 1 year

Text

Nerves talking - Neteyam x Crybaby!Reader

summary: after spending months teaching his little sister's friend how to hunt, neteyam is surprised by the lack of her progress. later on, he discovers then that she is just too nervous to be around him because of her not-so-small crush

wc: 3.1k

contains: miscommunication trope, reader as a sensitive mess, kiri being mvp

masterlist

incredible art by @ArtKokhan on twitter

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“Try again,” Neteyam ordered, as he watched you adjust your grip on the bow.

You gulped, trying to shove the growing frustration back into your stomach. The more you missed the target, the more embarrassed you felt to be working under Neteyam’s watchful eye. Especially because you hadn’t hit it even once since the lesson had started.

And it wasn’t like Neteyam was a strict teacher or would ever get angry with you for failing. On the contrary, his approach was gentle, patient. Even when his father first ordered him to teach his sister how to hunt, and you were pulled along into it by Kiri, Neteyam didn’t even bat an eye at the extra student. Though, somewhere along the way, Kiri grew tired of archery and started missing the lessons, leaving you alone with Neteyam more frequently than your poor heart could ever handle.

You had the biggest crush on the man, always so jittery and nervous to be in his presence that you could hardly concentrate at all. Every time Neteyam would correct your stance, or help you with the bow, all your blood rushed to your ears, skin feeling tingly and hot even by the faintest of his touches. And he genuinely didn’t even suspect it; always being his lovely, charming self, throwing jokes and compliments your way, as if you weren’t one of his worst students. What was more ironic that you were actually a decent archer when practicing in your own company.

As you aimed and released the arrow, it sailed towards the painted tree with a loud swoosh and hit the outer ring. You let out a disappointed sigh, shoulders hunching immediately in discomfort, but it didn’t seem to discourage Neteyam. Instead, he stepped close to you, and guided your weak stance with a gentle touch.

“Don’t forget to breathe,” he advised in a low voice, and you knew for sure that he could feel the goosebumps covering your skin.

As he didn’t rush to step away, his warm breath on your neck, and his hand resting lightly on your back, you became even more flustered. Oh, this was going to suck, you thought. And just like you expected, Neteyam’s proximity to you made matters worse; this time the arrow didn’t even graze the tree, but flew downwards and dug itself into the ground. Neteyam chuckled softly.

“Well, we’re getting somewhere,” he flicked the tip of your nose, “But next time try to aim for the target.”

“Very funny,” you mumbled, shying away from his playful gesture, “I don’t think I can ever hit it.”

“Hey, what did I say about the negative-talk?”

You watched as he took out his own bow and aimed at a fruit that was hanging precariously from a far tree branch. He took a breath and released the arrow, hitting its mark perfectly.

“Bad thoughts hinder the growth,” you answered simultaneously with the thud of the fruit hitting the ground

“Good girl.”

Neteyam went to retrieve the fruit, his back turned, and in that moment you could have sworn that Eywa was looking out for you and saving you from being caught in your deepest shade of blue.

“I think that’s enough for today,” he turned around with a smile, throwing you the fruit. You managed to catch it, “Have some, you need to eat.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Hey, did Neteyam teach you that?” Kiri pointed at the arrow that landed close to the bullseye, its tail springing up and down from the force of the release.

You let out a bitter chuckle, unsure of how to respond to Kiri's question. It was true that you often went to train by yourself to work on your composure around Neteyam, meticulously recalling every piece of advice he had given you. But the moment you were around him, it seemed like all of that knowledge seemed to evaporate into thin air.

“To be quite honest, I had no hopes for you,” Kiri teased.

“Oh, please,” you rolled your eyes at her, “I can actually kick your ass now.”

“Is that so? Let’s see it then,” she challenged, gesturing towards the target.

You grinned with a newfound confidence, taking out another arrow. You guessed that it was definitely the effect of Neteyam and his amber eyes because you didn’t feel nearly as nervous when you were being watched by Kiri. Instead, there was a surge of sureness when you looked at the arrows you shot before, clustered around the closest circle to the middle. You adjusted your stance like a pro, and Kiri couldn’t deny it, she was actually impressed with the way you presented yourself.

It didn’t take you long to focus and shoot, the arrow landing exactly in the bullseye with a swift release. Kiri clapped her hands, releasing a loud excited squeak, and pulled you into a hug.

“You’re actually a pro!” she exclaimed, and you couldn’t resist the sweet satisfaction of your accomplishment. You usually had to reserve it for yourself but sharing it with Kiri felt more special.

But as you let your chin rest on her shoulder, and she went on about how impressed she was, you spotted a figure not too far away. Your eyes widened at the realization that it was Neteyam, and you rapidly pulled away from Kiri in the shame of being watched by him. With heavy steps, Neteyam approached you, forcing you to lower your gaze to the ground. What if he draws a connection between his teaching and you failing miserably, and cracks your little secret about the not-so-little crush?

“Y/N, did you shoot all of these?” he asked, the slight anger in his voice catching both you and Kiri off guard.

She looked in between you confused, never having seen her brother to be so tense around you. Clearly, the possibility of Neteyam getting irritated with you hadn’t even crossed either of your minds.

“She did, even the bullseye,” Kiri shrugged, “Why are you so grumpy about it?”

"So all this time you were pretending to be bad at it, even though you knew how to shoot?" Neteyam ignored her, his tone more accusatory.

“Hey, back off,” Kiri scrunched up her nose in irritation, gently shoving Neteyam to make him move. He took a few involuntary steps back, but his expression remained cold and frustrated.

“No, I wasn’t pretending, I really didn’t know how to…” you trailed off, staring at the ground. The lump growing in your throat at the accusation was making you too emotional to remain calm. You had never heard Neteyam speak to you that way before, and you were afraid that you might burst into tears if you had to look at him.

“We have been having lessons for months, Y/N. You think this was a funny prank to pull? Do you have any idea how much time I wasted, and for what?” he let out a disappointed sigh, his hands falling to his sides.

Your heart sank as you forced yourself to meet Neteyam's gaze. You couldn't tell him the real reason, at least not like this, not here. His anger was morphing into disappointment, which was confusing, because he was usually so patient with you. But Neteyam hated being lied to, and he didn't want to feel like a fool for your own entertainment. He wondered if you had been going around with other hunters, showing off your skills while he put all his time and energy into teaching you something you already knew.

“I’m sorry,” you managed to say with a sniff, tears already welling in your eyes, “I didn’t mean to waste your time.”

Neteyam only shook his head in response, his expression softening slightly as he caught the glistening of the tears you were barely holding back. He exhaled loudly through his nose and stormed off, and the second he was gone, the tears broke like a rainstorm.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

If you had thought that being around charming Neteyam was difficult, you had clearly underestimated facing angry Neteyam. The cold shoulder he kept giving you was agonizing, eating you from the inside slowly and painfully. And being the way that you were, you could cry on the spot every time he ignored you in public.

Kiri was convinced that the only solution to your reconciliation would be telling him the truth. Neteyam had been burned by being taken advantage of before; girls pretending to be incompetent at things they were actually skilled at to gain his attention, and completely disregarding his time. Especially with the intensity of his Olo’eyktan training, Neteyam barely had time to breathe, let alone use it on someone who didn’t need his help.

And what you didn’t know was that it especially hurt Neteyam that it was you. Someone he had grown to care for and looked forward to meeting up with. A chore that didn’t feel like one. If he had a choice, he would spend all day watching over you, guiding you through every misstep without a care. Because being around you allowed him to drop down his guard and be himself, something he struggled with as the future Olo’eyktan burdened with heavy responsibilities. There was no pressure to perform.

Your shy nature, your sensitivity, was what encouraged him to be more open, light-hearted. You were so comforting to him, Neteyam felt like he could crack jokes and even flirt sometimes, without feeling guilty for it. Oh, he thought he was such a fool for believing anyone could ever see him for the way he was.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You gripped the handle of the basket so tightly, your knuckles had turned white with the effort. Holding it close to your chest, it was much heavier than you remembered, filled to the brim with fruits picked out from the tallest trees grazed by the sunlight, and aromatic herbs woven into bouquets. It was naive to think it could be enough to get Neteyam’s forgiveness but you still felt bad. Very bad.

As you approached the corner of their house, he suddenly sprang out in front of you, causing you to stumble and almost drop the basket. You were startled, but Neteyam seemed unimpressed to see you there.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice cutting through the air like a sharpened blade.

“I just wanted to give you this and apologize again,” you mumbled, offering him the basket.

But as Neteyam stared at your outreached hands with pursed lips, he made no effort to accept it. He stepped back with a shake of his head, and you could feel your heart sink.

“I don’t want it.”

"I didn't mean to offend you - ," you began to explain yourself, trying to remain calm but your vision was already blurring from tears.

“You had done enough already,” he scoffed and walked past you, leaving you standing there.

You let the basket hang in your hands, so heavy, you were barely holding it. Tears streamed down your cheeks in big drops, and despite your mind telling you to go back home, it was like your feet were glued to the ground.

“Y/N?” Kiri’s gentle voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

You hurried to wipe away the evidence of your humiliation but Kiri was quick to draw the connection between the look on your face and the basket filled with gifts. Without hesitation, she pulled you into their home and sat you down on the ground.

“Don’t cry, Y/N, it wasn’t your fault,” she put a hand on your shoulder, “It was all a big misunderstanding, I’m sure Neteyam will come around.”

“I didn’t mean to lie to him,” emotions were overflowing within you, and between your sniffling, Kiri had to concentrate to make out your words, “I just like him so much, he makes me shaky...”

“Well, you have to tell him that he makes you nervous,” Kiri urged with a softened gaze, “Neteyam will be flattered.”

“No, he will think I am pathetic,” you shook your head.

“He won’t,” she disagreed, "I mean, you didn't even want him to teach you in the first place. I forced you into the lessons and left you alone. Honestly, it was my fault."

“It wasn’t,” you sniffled again, “I shouldn’t have wasted his time like that. He taught me so much but I just can’t concentrate around him… I can’t even talk to him sometimes, let alone shoot well.”

A small smile stretched Kiri’s lips, the sight of her friend confessing to her such obvious feelings was amusing. Like everybody else, Kiri had known well that you were soft, taking the smallest things to your heart. And though the solution seemed too clear to her, she didn't want to interfere in something that should be left between you and Neteyam. Instead, she was prominent in only nudging either of you in the right direction. She threw a meaningful look at the entrance where she had sensed Neteyam’s lingering for some time now.

When he saw you tear up at the refusal of the gift and stormed off, Neteyam’s heart couldn’t bear it to know it was already the second time that he made you cry. And no matter how disappointed he was with you, he just simply wasn’t going to tolerate the thought of you being so upset over him. The regret pushed him to chase after you, to apologize and hope that the words he’d pour out would be enough to calm you down. And it was then when he overheard you crying to his sister, the confession stopping him in his tracks.

His heartbeat was so loud, it filled out his ears and vibrated through his throat. Neteyam came to a stunning realization that the feelings he had buried deep within himself were reciprocated. That the reason why he was never frustrated with your slowness was finally justified; all this time, he secretly hoped you would need his guidance for as long as possible, just so he could spend more time with you. The sight of your delicate tear-stained face, glistening eyes adorned with long lashes clumped together, made him want to hold you and never let go. Yet, knowing that he had such an effect on you made Neteyam feel like the happiest man on Pandora.

“I think it’s my cue to leave,” Kiri stood up, glancing at her brother.

You frowned at her sudden movement and followed her gaze to the entrance. Neteyam stepped in nervously, his eyes locking with yours. Mixed emotions washed over him like a bucket of cold water, drenching him to the bone. You liked him. And he hurt you for it. Embarrassed and flustered, you clung to Kiri’s hand, silently pleading for her to stay, not wanting to be left alone with him.

“Can we talk?” Neteyam asked quietly.

He caught your attention just enough to allow Kiri to slip away. She nudged him playfully upon her exit and there you were... Has he heard your confession? The look on his face was so sour, almost like he was readying himself to turn you down.

“Y/N, first, I must apologize for being this cold with you,” his voice was soft, startling you slightly.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, never expecting it. Was Neteyam apologizing? He hesitated before lowering himself to the ground in front of you. His eyes observed the basket of gifts for a moment, as he was pondering over his next words.

“And I also heard what you said to Kiri about me. And I...I didn't know you felt that way."

Your heart beated trepidly at his words, humiliation flooding your veins immediately. You had never intended for him to find out, especially not like this.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, this must be worse than if I had pulled a prank on you instead,” your voice was so sincere with apology, it mortified him.

“No, no, don’t apologize, you did nothing wrong,” he shook his head so desperately, it must have strained his neck, "And I don't want you to feel like you have to impress me or anything. I just want us to be... comfortable with each other. I guess, just didn’t think you liked me so much, I threw you off your game,” he chuckled weakly.

“This is so embarrassing,” you covered your face with your palms, but Neteyam was quick to gently peel them away. He lifted your chin with his fingers, urging you to look at him.

“No, I think it’s cute… you’re very cute.”

“W-what?”

You stammered, the words you could only wish to hear in your dreams were spilling out of his mouth. How could he have been that blind towards your affections? You were always carefree and bubbly with others, but so shy with him. And Neteyam adored your shyness, he just couldn’t believe he had never made a connection before.

He beamed at you, as if he was seeing you for the first time. Your timid nature, delicate features, the way you blushed under his gaze. Neteyam leaned closer, the proximity sending shivers down your spine.

“I like you too,” he whispered.

You blinked in shock, your gaze darted between his captivating eyes and his plump lips. Unable to hold back any longer, Neteyam leaned in even closer, his breath warm against your skin. He kissed you, and it was as if the world around you had ceased to exist. Your mind went blank as his soft lips moved in sync with yours, and his hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer in a gentle, swift move. Everything he did was perfect. He was perfect.

Neteyam pulled away for breath with a toothy grin, leaving you completely wordless. You tried to calm your own breathing, but the feeling of the kiss was still too fresh on your lips, blushing profusely as he leaned back.

He observed the basket once more before reaching out to pluck a fruit from it. As he brought it to his lips and took a bite, you couldn't help stealing glances at him, desperately appreciating the way he savored it.

"Thank you," he said, looking up at you, "This is delicious."

And with no further warning, he pressed his lips against yours once more, his gratefulness manifesting in that sweet gesture. Your cheeks flamed as you savored the taste of fruit on his lips. When you parted, Neteyam rested his forehead on yours, a small smile on his lips.

“I don’t think I can keep up with our lessons after this,” you joked, trying to ease the tension between you.

“Mhm, maybe we should just try out a new reward system instead,” he teased back. Your laughter bubbled up at his words, and Neteyam thought it was going to become his favorite sound in the world.

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taglist (let me know if you want to be added):

@bigdikzaddy @awriana @scarletrosesposts @abbersreads @mechformers @my-love-of-books @avatarbyamara @robin-the-enby @netemoon @minjix @nilrilie @grierpilots @suntizme @live-laugh-neteyam @misscaller06 @darkacademictrash @arminsgfloll @omnifanfic-copycat @crazyforteyam @sakura-onesan

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adoregojo · 5 months

Text

★- haunted by the trails of you.

a/n: here's some more angst i had in drafts and now I'm setting it free. wanted more pain but this what yall are getting for now d: (potentially getting a part two)

summary: their first anniversary without you, and you'd still be haunting them. !! gn reader!! characters: isagi, reo, rin. warnings: men. hurt/barely an comfort, the word 'vomit', blood mentions in rin's part, appear of other characters. perhaps heavy angst?

isagi: it was at his own home. for what he can fathom, isagi isn't considered as someone who's hooked on the past. at least that's what he pinned his head to. what had chronicles should've been a lesson, something that'll help him move forward, a memory that'll get him through to his feet again.

once the past had been written, there was no undoing. only exceptions and take the moral out of it.

sometimes isagi wished he had tugged on that enough as much as he tugged his heart to yours.

he was about to send himself a clout. has he learned nothing? why can't he draw a clear line without the ghost of you obsessing in every corner of his life? so instead, he botches his hair to untidy navy-blue locks flying out of place, mumbling cusses to none other than himself.

He bet he looked like a madman, uttering loathes undertone within every step upon a stair he took. He swore he spotted a middle aged lady covering her son's ears in horror. maybe he wasn't muttering as low as he thought.

it was saturday, in which isagi takes a day off to greet his parents from time to time. and he wasn't gonna cancel that over some feelings he might've got the wrong end of the stick about, it was probably just lingering lust and affection he had for you, but I'll past. clinging to the mere possibility and ignoring the ache that remains for too long than intended.

swirling the keys with his bare hands, isagi can view the frigid smoke of his breath appearing with every puff he let out. the tips of his fingers and knuckles were embarrassing standing out an angry shade of red, he forgot his gloves, again ,recalling: yoichi never really had to bat an eye when it comes to gloves. he'll even do it on purpose since you wouldn't think twice before launching yours to his frosty hands, while interlocking your hands with the other one.

now that he mentioned it, he always recollect how futile of an attempt it was. because the back of his hand will always remain polar, but at that time, it didn't carried a feather. he didn't really mind freezing to death if it meant I'll be in your arms. then he'll die any day.

isagi remains stationary, until his forehead rests the irony of his house door. he didn't know if he was deeply disappointed in himself, or just drowned by the sweet bygone days. gabbling something about how an idiot he was before taking a deep lungful of air and finally opening the door.

flinging his shoes to gods knows where, at this state even his mother's berating wouldn't budge a bone in him, yeah, this is how bad it was.

to his astonishment, there were no trails of his parents. isagi called, shouting once, twice. and gave up on the third time. he jogs around to the kitchen era, like expected: a dangling note covering some plate, informing him that they went out and they'll be back before dinner.

isagi just let out a defeated sigh, an obvious pessimistic wave looming over him. he was genuinely hoping to spend a family-time right away, and something to divert him away from the wraith of you.

a part of him wondered, what answer could he hand his parents, breaking the fact that you two were no longer together. his parents always loved you, adored you even. they'd definitely be shattered, he'll just muddle it by saying that you two drew apart till an ultimate downfall drilled up a hole in your relationship, leading to a break up. they’ll buy it, right?

blindly, isagi carried out the plat, slamming it flatly against the wooden table of the living room. making himself comfortable on the couch that held on the glimpse of his childhood, it was a pleasant to be at home again, and one of a great distraction.

he needed it.. anything to sway him away from the remainder of what name of this day earned..

from the corner of his eye, he spotted a second note. scoffing at himself isagi gets a grasp on it, living on the thought it might've been his parents requesting him to do chores, or just asking him to take extra care of himself.

isagi consulted it, even when a part of him begged him not to.

‘dear, yocchan. we really hope you'll be the one to read this, but if not! hello yoichi’s partner, that's quite embarrassing if you're reading this hahaha. but anyway, we figured that today is your two anniversary, isn't that just great? We remember just yesterday they were being introduced to us for the first time. What a good time to be alive, but anyway. There's some surprise cake for the two of you to share! Happy anniversary, you lovebirds.- your mother (in law).”

‘don't get too carried away please! - your father (in law).”

isagi flouts, bitterly. so sorely that all the rock-hard grip of his hand went straight to poor paper, ripping it apart to fall into small chunks. the stomach-bug swirl, not the one with the butterflies plopping in the depths of his stomach, swarming with to define a new level of bliss. but a disgusting ache of venom mobbing, making him want to vomit in an instant.

if it wasn't for his neighbors, isagi would've outcry his lungs out of frustration. but he wasn't on the field, where his anger planted. Now it's just a sad smile etching on his features.

and maybe a drip of a few tears..

how long were you planning on haunting him for..

reo: he had to delete it.. for the longest period, reo had never been so glued on what he busted by his own hands, words and ego. he had no one to blame but himself, and yet no amount of strength that earth granted him, no matter how the sky have bore in tears gleaming the ground, a pool of agony cries pleading for him to do it.

all that and he’d still struggle to press the delete button. He just couldn't.

“man, just delete it already.” chigiri cried out, slamming his palms against the skin of his forehead. He was tired. and he wasn't even getting paid to deal with this shit.

“it's easier for you to say it, you don't get it.” reo sassed back, trudging inches away from the redhead who's eyes twitched in disbelief.

nagi and chigiri一well, mostly chigiri, have been summoned by a cry for help from their shared friend. just for the end of the world to be him trying to delete the pictures and videos of you and him, his ex that lived in his head rent free.

it was a wretched sight to see, his eyes were tearing up while scrolling through your memories together. chigiri一god’s greatest soldier, was really, really doing everything he can to encourage reo back on his feet. It was like helping a spineless creature to straighten up.

it's quite impressive, he can use all his abilities on soccer pitches, give his best assists, be the heart, the mind and the soul of the field. Yet behind the plate was a completely different person, a hopeless guy curled up in a ball of your blanket that carried most of your left cologne, and sobbing till the sunrise. and today was a special show, he was absolutely shattered because your scent was slowly vanishing.

all chigiri can do is pinch the bridge of his nose in foiling, “listen, how about we go out or something? there's a nearby place we can get lunch and-”

“they used to love that restaurant¦” reo whines, shoving his phone into the redhead face, it carried a picture of you smiling blissfully and unaware, cheeks rife with food. “they're.. cute, so cute it makes me want to die.” falling backwards on the silky duvet of the queen-sized bed.

“Please don't, I still need my monthly allowance on genshin.” the one time nagi decided to finally say something, it had to be this. and chigiri never wanted to zip up someone's mouth so badly.

“you keep on stabbing yourself in the throat, you dumbass. if you can't do it then I'll do it for you.” stretching out his arm, opening up his palms for reo to hand over the phone and get this over with already.

in an instant, the phone was being embraced tightly to his chest, “no! I can do it myself, I just need some time," Chigiri just raised his hands in surrender, mumbling a quick ‘whatever’ as he jumped out the bed, leaving the extra space for his friend to grieve, alone.

it was a miracle that his tears still remain un-parched. Every photo he scroll through, the lump in his throat narrows painfully. clinching his lips upwards every time he crossed over while you were smiling, it hurts so good. He doesn't recognize whatever the knot in his stomach was reducing in sorrow or ecstatic.

he wasn't trashing any of those, he couldn't find it in his heart too. instead of criticizing himself of what he should've said to make you stay, what could've he done to swoon your heart instead of fleeting it. you'll keep on tip-toeing around his heartstrings and he'll let you without a charge.

he squeaked in his pillow, he just kept on bruising himself, torturing himself by the dim memory of what the two of you had once. something that not even money could regain or even soothe on. he yearned for one more kiss, one more embrace, one more chance to get a glimpse of you and he'll die a happy man, that's a lie, he'll misses you even after death.

he wished for you to come and haunt him, eat him to bits. but it was like he was the one haunting the crumbs of you.

on the middle of his groaning mess, an amber eyes staring sharply at him, his figure casting a shadow over his state. “here, drink up.” nonchalant, he handed him a random juice he ‘eeny, meeny’ his way to. reo accepted the drink, his arm sluggishly taking it. chigiri swore he was about to crack the glass over his head if he wouldn't stop this pitiful little act of his.

“why are you even this hardcore sad? you were never like this in the last weeks.”

“it's their anniversary, but not anymore I guess.” nagi shrugged, still too focused on the screen of his phone to pay the slightest amount of attention. turning a blind eye when reo flinches a bit at his truthful words

“have anyone told you you're a terrible human being?”

one sip, a second one. and his lilac eyes were watering for a million time. “they used to love this drink.” he whispered.

“i genuinely hope you choke on it.”

rin: it got so bad, he talked to sae about it.. running a few years backwards, if you told the sixteen years old itoshi rin he'd be seeking his own deadbeat of a brother to vent he'd spit out in your face with no second thought.

and if he could, he would've. because rin was rethinking his life choices, taking a step back every second yet taking two ahead then comprehending once again. and now there was no going back, what was between him and the urgent fate was a wooden door.

his hands buried deep in his pockets instead of making an attempt to knock. he found gazing at his pair of shoes much more entertaining.

he didn't have it in his head to think straight, not when you clouded over like an angry storm, all he can do is take it and let your teardrop roll down his face, or maybe they were his own tears, he couldn't savvy it.

after a deep lungful of air, rin thrust his forward, just an inch away, only to stop briskly. sae? really? just how desperate is he? very. he come to cuss himself for counting you as the one and only person he apostrophizes with. if only he’d listen when you would rant about him approving his social skills, he should've listened instead plugging his ears. He wished he listened to a lot of things you said..

in a rush, the door unlocked in a swift. almost making him funk backwards, unraveling the sight of his older brother, standing unimpressed. and before rin could speak a word, sae took the lead.

“you know I could see your shadow casting under my doorstep, right?”

Rin clicks his tongue in annoyance, and when he doesn't reply, the reddish head moves to the side, and rin steers his way in. shutting the door behind him, sae jog away, letting him take off his shoes. not even a proper welcome, he shouldn't have gotten his hopes up.

the apartment was quite tidy, a strong aroma loomed underneath his nose. Despite that, it was awkwardly dull, not even ghosts would bother haunting it. rin takes a seat in a solo couch, fumbling his fingers in a bothersome way, the silence was a deadline, not anything he wasn't used to.

It was just the first time rin had come here, by himself. without an actual family required to stick to the back.

or without you.

unintentionally, Rin's leg keeps thrusting. a bad habit of his when the tension gets thick. every passing second he berates himself even further, damn him for having only one path to seek solace in, for allowing only one soul to soothe over his frail heart, for authorizing only one embrace to delay him.

and damn you for carving open his heart. just to leave him to bleed.

the echoing steps of sae cut his strails of thoughts. settling down his cup of hot tea. rin raised a brow at the uncivil manner. “you didn't ask for one.” his brother shrugs calmly, oh he was driving him nuts with this unchanged attitude.

breathe in, rin.

reverberating voice called, so he obeys. straighten his pouster. “I wanted to talk to you about something. it's important.”

“I can tell. and your sidekick is nowhere to be found, did they finally ditch you?”

his hands clutching up in a makeshift ball, rin says nothing.

“oh, so they did?” sae blows a few times over the overheated cup, taking a sip then uttering something under his breath. “Well, that's unfortunate.” adding another cube of sugar as he retorted.

rin only got something out of this, that his brother didn't give a single fuck. and it drove him to the edge.

“You can at least pretend that you care.”

“never said I didn't.”

“you didn't have to, it's fucking showing.” rin seethed, his clenched hand striking the table balance, making the sugar cubes fall out of place. his anger was collapsing even the sweetest floras.

that doesn't nuge sae the slightest, but makes him frowns his brows a bit, because he was the one who had to sweep that off later.

the tension was solid and bulky, and Rin refused to break eye contact with the equal hues. Daring him to say something, anything. Yet he took it as a challenge, like he always does. The only way he communicates with sae is by beating him, proving himself. He'll die on that hill, even if it killed him itself. even if it has killed you already.

he knew this was a stupid idea, he should've just rotted in bed, he should've kept on living in the repeated circle of misery. He should've just lived up with every rush of breeze rustling his mistakes over and over, where he could've sworn that it was your voice.

breath, rin.

he was fucking trying.

“So what do you want me to do about it? be your wingman and pair you together again?”

“or, you could just say nothing. listening is enough.”

after a moment of silence, sae shoulders ease up. a guster pointed for him to keep going. so rin dose, he rants and rants like he had the time of the world right in his palms. It was mostly about you, how you were something that became his everything, how he should've stopped you like he wanted to, how he let you be driven away like he always does, how he should've apologized like he was supposed to.

blustring about ‘what the if’s’ and what would've happened if he just.. he loved you like you loved him.. if only he tried. he can't blame it on his immense ego, his lack of communication, the digged hole on his soul that you bleeded to fill, you gave all your flesh till there was nothing left but bones.

he could've rebuilt the broken pieces of your heart, but they were too sharp to hold. He bled within every one, he was bleeding to ashes, to nothingness.

you loved till there was nothing left to love about you. you drained down the hill. not even his blood could fulfill you.

his voice would crack, a dust cloud blows over his eyes, yet sae would stare at him ever so flatly. if he even dares to say disappointment. disappointed that his younger brother was just a copy past of him.

someone that kills everything he touches.

When rin has nothing left to say, sae stands up. reaching his pocket for a card that carries a name and a number. as the dark-head flipped the card between his fingers, blood-thirst eyes narrowed at him.

“a fucking therapist? are you fucking kidding me?"

“you clearly need one.”

“I don't, is this some kind of lukewarm joke?”

“stop being corny, I'm trying to help you here. if you aren't willing to let yourself feel the sense of loss, you can suit yourself out.”

and with that, sae turns his back to him. like he always does. climbing the stairs to his bedroom, leaving rin to reconsider where his actions have driven him, how beyond it threw it all.

although, he’ll never let himself feel the sense of loss. never. He'd rather be haunted by you than be alone forever, he'll be a stray till you pick him up again.

lmao wrote this with nagi plushie watching me like a hawk

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock #reo x reader #isagi x reader #rin x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #rin itoshi x reader #reo mikage x reader

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lalovi · 6 months

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AN: This is an April Fools special because I feel like Shadow Milk definitely uses this day as an excuse to pull pranks on you. I really wanted to make an Easter Special yesterday but ran out of time.

Shadow Milk Cookie x Reader

Oneshot

Warnings: None

-April Fools!-

Today is a day that you haven't exactly been looking forward to. You see, Shadow Milk Cookie is no stranger to pulling a prank or two. He actually does it very often, and every time you fall for one, he'll laugh and laugh and laugh.

But now that it was April first, he actually had an excuse.

Normally, you're awoken by the chime of your alarm clock or by Shadow Milk Cookie shaking you awake because he's bored and needs attention.

Today it was from a gong.

Yes, that big cymbal looking thing. Honestly, who just casually has one of those lying around?

Shadow Milk, apparently.

"Good morning Doll!" He said cheerfully and like he did not just burst your eardrums.

You would groggily lean up in the bed, giving your boyfriend an annoyed glare.

"You've just been holding onto one of those for this moment?" You asked him, referring to the gong.

"Nope! I just got it in yesterday."

Of course he did.

"Now come on, we've got a big day ahead of us! Hurry up and get ready, silly." He shoved you into the bathroom for you to get yourself ready.

If you thought that he also wouldn't take this chance to pull something, then you'd be poorly mistaken.

The mirror was fully covered in sticky notes, and this was a big mirror. All of them were different shades of blue, as well.

Written on each of them was a different thing that he liked about you.

You read every single one.

It was a cute prank and you appreciated the dedication, but... now you didn't want to take them off.

Okay, that's fine, you can just use the mini makeup mirror instead. No big deal.

He's such a brat. Cute, but still obnoxious.

Once you finished getting ready, you walked out of the bathroom to see a still smiling Shadow Milk Cookie.

He was waiting for something.

"It was cute," You'd say.

"I know! ...Did you take it down though?"

"No."

"Oh really? You liked it that much? I'll make sure to compliment you more often, then."

He walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder. He left some soft kisses along your neck.

"Come on dove, let's go eat~"

Shadow Milk Cookie began to guide you outside of the bedroom and into the kitchen.

Everything was upside-down.

The couch, the picture frames, the lamp. Everything.

When you looked towards the obvious culprit, he only had yet another innocent smile on his face.

"Oh my, what happened here?" He'd ask, feigning ignorance.

"I wonder.."

How did he even have the time for something like this? No. How did he even do something like this? It was almost impressive.

"So... how do you plan to eat breakfast like this?" You asked him, crossing your eyes with a disappointing look.

"Ah right..." He just kinda stares at the ceiling before snapping his fingers. All of the furniture returns to its original place. There was also some breakfast on the table.

"See. I think ahead!" He gestured for you to sit down, to which you obliged, and began eating the food that Shadow Milk Cookie prepared.

Nothing seemed odd about it.

It's strange. He keeps alternating between sweet and sour.

What exactly was his plan?

You took a sip of the coffee Shadow Milk had prepared.

It wasn't sweet.

No, it was actually very bitter.

Salty, even.

"Do you like it? I added a special little something," he said with a smile.

"Why are you like this?"

"April Fools!"

It was going to be a long day.

#cookie run kingdom #crk #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #cookie run #shadow milk cookie x reader #shadow milk cookie crk #april fools #shadow milk crk #shadow milk cookie oneshot #shadow milk cookie x reader oneshot #shadow milk #shadow milk x reader oneshot

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yarmiko-art · 2 months

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Watch out, kids, there's a man eating butterfly over there--!

Really wanted to make something like this with them for a while. I care for them so much. Wholeheartedly believe that those kids have a really deep bond

There's a lil tidbit down the post with me trying to do the character study on Gooey.

"I can't do it right," Gooey mutters quietly with clear sadness in their voice, looking at the crumpled wad of paper under their fingers. Whatever this thing was, it definitely wasn't a paper plane he worked so hard on for the ten minutes, sticking out his tongue with diligence.

The boy raises his head up, looking at a white speck among the green leaves. Kirby's planes flew easily and far without effort. One of them soared so high up that it got stuck in the crown of a tree, which stretched a huge pleasant shadow above them. A pretty orange butterfly perched itself on a white wing. Even it likes Kirby's plane better.

Kirby's paper frogs were better, too. They jumped on the grass as if they were alive - the boys just needed to lightly poke their flattened heads. Origami cranes gracefully positioned themselves in the shade with their wings spread out. Waiting for the wind to pick them up in the air. The doves were made of regular, even lines.

And Gooey couldn't even make a simple paper plane. Maybe the wings were too short to allow them to fly forward rather than fall, driven down by the force of the impact. Or maybe he was making too many bends on the sheet, constantly forgetting which corners to bend inwards. But it suppose to be so easy. Kirby made it look so easy.

Gooey looks at their hands in disappointment. Palm. Five splayed child fingers with a couple of scratches from carelessness. No different from a human one. Gooey grabs Kirby's wrist and puts his palm against his own, carefully comparing them. Frustrated eyes run from one hand to the other. Kirby doesn't mind. His free hand ruffles the blue dreadlocks on other's head in a soothing manner.

"Don't be upset. I didn't do it right the first time either."

Gooey unclenches the fingers, closing his eyes. He wouldn't be so upset about the first time. But this was the third one! Something was clearly wrong! He obviously did something wrong while morphing these hands—Huh?

The look of big dark eyes attracts something new. Kirby takes out a new sheet from the pile of paper pinned down by the picnic basket. He smoothes it out on the grass and lures Gooey closer.

"Fold it in half first," the boy draws an imaginary fold line across the sheet before Gooey hesitantly follows the instructions, "Neat! And now one more time. And then open it."

Fold the corners to the inside. Fold up the bottom. Corners again... Following Kirby's words was much easier than frantically trying to remember the next step in fear of ruining the sheet. Turn it on its side and in half again. Huh, Gooey doesn't remember such a step in the plane making. Although, maybe that's why they didn't couldn't do it right.

The sheet goes tightly under the fingers, bending unevenly. "It won't fly this time either," the boy tells himself, but completes the last instruction - pull the corners to the sides. He expects the paper to tear, but instead the origami in his hands opens up in--

"A boat?" Gooey blinks a little puzzled, and Kirby tugs at his elbow in the direction of the pond. The water was right next to them, splashing the knees, covered with herbal juice Two hands sink into the cool pool, allowing the boat to gently stand on the shiny surface. Gooey leans forward, hanging over the pond at a dangerous angle, about to fall into the water. But the boat is not sinking. Kirby takes a deep breath and blows - the light paper gives in, and moves forward, leaving a small ripple on the blue surface.

Gooey blinks again and their face breaks into a happy smile. It's strange, he can't remember what he was so upset about.

Out of the corner of his eye, he notices a reflection in the pond below him. Two little children - one in a white overalls, and the other in a blue robe. He raises his hand and the child from the pond waves back at him. Palm. Five children's fingers. Quite human.

#I love Gooey with all my heart but I have this crippling fear that I'm infantilizing him in the writing.#Since lil fella is Dark Matter and I hc them all as shapeshifters--#I'll need to make another post for that #A lil heads up for the text piece - Gooey and Kirby both pretty agender in my mind so they go with any pronoun really #Kirby fanart #Kirby series #Kirby gijinka #Kirby Gooey #Gooey Gijinka #Kirby #Gooey #YarArt

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endthedream · 10 months

Text

[8:29 pm]

heeseungs new hair colour makes you feel a type of way.

1k words / slightly suggestive (make out scene)

masterlist

Heeseung nervously glides his hand through his hair, one time, two times, enough times to not be able to keep count anymore. He looks at the time on his phone over and over again, awaiting your arrival almost anxiously.

Heeseung looks at his reflection on the black screen of his phone, reminding him yet again where the nervousness inside of him comes from. It was a spontaneous decision, not even him knew about it until twenty minutes before it was done. And now instead of the purple he had for months, his hair is a deep shade of blue. He isn’t complaining, not at all, he loves how the blue hair looks on him, he just doesn’t know what you will think.

Over the past month you have been empathising how much you adore the purple colour on him. He vividly remembers one night, his hands roaming your figure , lips on your neck, bodies intertwined, where you breathlessly told him how attractive he looks with the coloured hair. Heeseung has been using his look once too many times to make your knees week, to make you fold for him, and now that it’s gone, he is scared what you think of him.

Will you still find him attractive? Will you be sad? Disappointed? He doesn’t know where this nervousness comes from. Never did you have problem with any of his hair colours, but it’s the clear fact that you liked the purple one the most that makes him nervous. He didn’t want to change it, liking how everyone reacted to the colour on his hair, but with the new comeback a new hair colour was required. He just wished that maybe he could have warned you, told you so you can prepare for the change.

Just as he was about to check his phone again did he hear your key opening the door. Heeseung sits up almost immediately watching the door of the living room closely. He hears you taking of your shoes and jacket, putting your key on the little drawer in the hallway and taking small steps towards the living room.

“Babe are you home already? I was just thinking if we should-“ But before you can finish your sentence, you stand in the door frame of the living room, your boyfriend sitting on the couch looking at you with his big deer eyes. You immediately notice it the soft blue slightly wavy hair sitting on top of his head. You can’t help but to stare at him with wide eyes and an open mouth.

“Do you hate it?”, your boyfriend asks in a small voice, insecurity dripping from every inch of his body. “I know I should have told you but I didn’t know. It was super spontaneous.”

“Heeseung-“, you try to speak up but he doesn’t let you, too focused on explaining you the situation.

“I know you probably hate it and you wish you could have the purple back. I know how much you loved it, but I really like this colour and maybe in a few days you got used to it and then you will love it too. I just hope you still find me attractive because I know a hair colour can change everything but I’m still me, you know? And I-“

It happens so fast that Heeseung couldn’t even prepare himself. Almost instantly, you take quick steps towards him, sit yourself down on his lap and softly plant your lips onto his. It takes him a second to register that you’re kissing him, but the moment he does, Heeseung wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you closer and kissing you deeper.

He presses you down against him and as a soft throaty moan leaves your lips he takes the chance to slide his tongue into your mouth. You wrap your own arms around his neck, one hand softly grabbing the hair on the nape of his neck, tucking it with a need that lets him roll his eyes back in pleasure. When you feel Heeseungs hands slide under your shirt, desperately meeting your hot naked skin, you know you have to pull away from the kiss.

“God, Heeseung, I didn’t think you could get any hotter.”, you whisper against his lips, leaning down to press a few open mouth kisses to his neck.

“What?”, he croaks out, mind still hazy from the kiss.

“Heeseung.”, you say, looking into his eyes now. “Did you really think I wouldn’t find you attractive anymore because of a hair colour?” Heeseung doesn’t give you a verbal answer but as you see him lower his head out of embarrassment, you know the answer to your question.

“Look at me.”, you softly call out, putting your hand on his cheek and lifting his head so he sees your face as you speak to him. “No hair colour or hair cut could ever change my mind about you. Yes, I did love the purple hair but I also loved the black, the pink, the blonde and the white hair. You know why?” Heeseung shrugs, eyes big and wide, looking deeply into yours. “Because I love the person wearing those colours. I love you, Hee. No hair colour will change that. And none of the less you make every hair colour look great.”

You see the small grin forming on the boys lips and you feel a quick wave of relief seeing him feel better about himself. “Heeseung with all due to respect you look so hot with this hair colour.”

“Do I?”, he teasingly asks, eyebrows raised and a smirk plastered on his face. “How hot do I look?”

“So hot that I want you to rip of all your clothes right here right now and take me on this couch.” For a millisecond, Heeseungs eyes widen at your request but as quick as it happened, it’s gone again and instead lust fills his brown orbs.

“Oh, Y/n.”, he says, almost moaning your name. “I’m going to fuck you so good that you will forget your own name.”

#enhypen heeseung #lee heeseung x you #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung imagine #lee heeseung drabble #lee heeseung #heeseung drabbles #heeseung x reader #heeseung imagines #heeseung #enhypen heeseung imagines #enhypen heeseung drabbles #enhypen heeseung x reader #enhypen heeseung x you #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen drabbles #enhypen scenarios #enhypen

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tielmamon · 8 months

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Geralt meets up with Jaskier at the marketplace only to find him unusually flustered by some merchant he's talking to. Strange, usually its the other way around. Rolling his eyes at another possible angry spouse situation, Geralt stalks his way towards them.

He couldn't really tell you why exactly he's more irritated now- when Jaskier is the one stuttering and blushing under the charms of this fucking nobody- and so he pointedly ignores the little twinge he feels in his chest .

The merchant stands to casually roll the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows and smiling wider when Jaskier knocks his lutecase against the stall, thoroughly distracted.

With a low growl he didn't realize he was doing, Geralt lays a hand on Jaskier's shoulder once he's close enough. The bard squeaks, turning to Geralt and flushes a deeper shade of red.

"G-Geralt! I didn't hear you, my friend." The bard smiles, but his eyes are slightly frantic.

"Is everything alright?" He asks and before his bard could answer-

"Everything just fine, my good witcher! Was just asking Master Jaskier here to tell me a few stories of his travels." Geralt turns, eye twitching slightly at the interruption. He finally gets a good look at the fucker who seems to have his bard in a blushing mess. Dark wavy hair, strong build, piercing blue eyes, strong jaw and dimples as he smiles.

Nothing they hasn't seen before. Daresay, Geralt might even guess that this man- no, this boy was downright boring to look at, compared to all the other colorful people Jaskier surrounds himself with. Still, the child continues.

"I was just wondering if he had the time to tell me a few over dinner-"

"He's busy."

"Oh, well maybe at breakfas-"

"We leave at dawn."

A tense silence settles between the three. Jaskier's eyes widen upon reading Geralt's attitude. His witcher was thoroughly annoyed. Why? He's not so sure yet but with the snarl on his face and the clenching fists, Jaskier figures it's probably best if they leave now.

"Okay I think it's about time we settle back at the inn, wouldn't you say, Geralt? Right." He doesn't wait for a response, instead snaking his hand around Geralt's arm and tugging hard.

"Henry! Wonderful meeting you, of course. Thank you for your lovely company this afternoon but I'm afraid we have a contract bright and early tomorrow so we really must go. Goodbye!" Jaskier watches the young man startle from his frozen state to a disappointed look as they walk away. Jaskier is reminded of a kicked puppy.

Once they were a safe distance away, the bard turns to ask what the hell was all that about when he realizes that Geralt was straining his neck looking back at the man, eyes narrowed with one of those scowls Jaskier sees him use on people who think its a good idea to touch Roach, or one of his bags, or apparently now Jaskier himself.

"Will you stop that??" The bard all but smacks Geralt's face forward to stop him. The witcher, ever stubborn resists and only relents when he feels a palm cup his cheek to face him.

"What the fuck had you so enamored with him?" Geralt grumbles, like a grump. Jask stops them and shoots him a confused look.

"You don't see it?" He cryptically says, which only confuses Geralt as well.

"See what?" A beat of silence before Jaskier huffs an amused laugh and drags them into the inn, arms linked.

"Nevermind." Jaskier smiles.

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #the witcher #geraskier headcanon #something stupid #geralt got a doppleganger #but he's an idiot #fanfic

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dorcas4meadowes · 7 months

Note

Hiii!!! This is my first time really leaving a request but imagine being like best friends with Clarisse but also dating Luke and her dating Chris bc like gossiping about them, double dates, the entire dynamic would be fire

Double Dates

Pairing - Luke Castellan x reader!Zeus

Warning - alcohol, light fighting, kisses

W/c - 4k

(Pretend weather affects inside chb, this sorta drags on, but i plan to make a pt 2 with more double date energy)

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The woods were decorated with pinecones and screams.

Misery and Kleos sounded almost indecipherable, so you didn’t attempt to assist or applaud the shrieks. The atmosphere held both despair and glory, the bizarre feeling almost painful since you gained neither.

You hesitated to continue with Clarisse’s order to stay on the outskirts of the forest. The only fight you met from a handful of Demeter kids who were focused on decaying vegetation, the win was disappointing.

The path you trailed left a strange configuration, the ground exposing your depleted performance through the snow underfoot, many prints leading in circles. You trudged through the silent woodland and listened to the creak of tree limbs and distant bird chatter, all unnerving through the stillness.

Your breath rose like smoke as you watched it spiral above you to the sky which was darkened with clouds. The dim light made it difficult for you while you cautiously stepped over broken logs, your path only met with an end of secrecy and the border rive, which had frozen over delicately.

Perhaps you were hoping for chaos, so when a sudden sound of leaves rustled it startled your intrigue. The disturbance led you to hit your spear against the blanketed ground, the impact causing an abrupt burst of energy to illuminate the forest's demeanour and electrify your weapon.

You held it out in front of you, your head swiftly turning to a figure which emerged from the shade of a pine.

“Look, I don't want to hurt you”.

You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend's concern, “I have no worries Castellan”.

You both remained still for a few seconds, studying each other's stance and hold, his mere presence made you aware of your entire body. You took a swift inhale before you stepped in his direction. You went first, but his move to block your attack was fluid and precise. Each defend and bout almost choreographed.

You obstructed his hit and retaliated quickly which he caught with the edge of his blade. He began to step closer and push your spear and so it held above you, his lips toying with his stupid smirk.

With one arm he kept both your weapons up and with his other he took the helmet from his head and shook out his sweaty curls and pushed yours away as well.

But as he challenged you with one hand his grip depleted, beginning to shake from the impulses which your weapon emitted. He was strong, but not enough. He kept nearing closer, your arms drifting further above you, his nose just brushing against yours.

“You forfeit?" he whispered, his lips grazing against yours with each word.

He expected a weak response - words to fuel his glory - but instead a soft kiss was pressed to his lips, followed by a quick pull away from your weapon and leap of your body as he staggered forward. Your spear pushed against his armour which had him on the ground. With a swift kick you pushed the sword out of his disorientated hands, and stood in front of him with a hand on your hip, your other on your weapon.

“On your knees Castellan?”, your head tilted to one side, his lips opened to speak, but they closed when a racing body leapt across the ice another behind it eagerly.

Clarisse screamed words which were inaudible, but with the blue flag crumpled in her hands and a victorious smile etched onto her face, you took no time in cheering, the conch matching your excitement.

Chris stood beside her panting and flipped you off, you gratefully responded with your finger before turning back to your boyfriend who’s shoulder still had a twitch from the electricity.

“You surrender?” you asked, leaning down to him a little to emphasise your poise.

“Never”.

Unexpectedly a pile of snow was launched at your chest plate causing sleet to fall down your back and into your bra, the rush of cool making you shriek. You immediately began to throw whatever was in reach at Luke, his laughs only excelling.

You didn't exactly know when you toppled into the snow, but when you couldn’t feel your fingers and your clothes were drenched, the cold only emphasised your desire for a shower.

The showers never afforded much privacy, even though your body remained a mere suggestion - apart from your shoulders - you found discomfort in knowing you could catch someone's gaze at any moment. So you waited promptly until the stalls were vacant, except for friends you could tolerate.

It was almost an established procedure that Luke would shower prior to you, then hold you in company while you did so.

His head leant against the wooden timbers, his curls dampened by the rising steam, his barely audible words competing against the chorus of water. Some days he would join you, but you wanted soap to drip trace your body instead of his hands.

It was rare you could come by hot water, so when the infrequent heat left the tap you merged yourself in the soothing rhythm. The drips were like summer rain and fell onto your skin in all the right ways.

“Baby, it would be nice to get out,” Luke said and continued his last sentence.

“We went out when the twins threw that party”.

“That was months ago, plus Clarisse is going”, his response was inattentive as he grew amused by the veins on his own arm, flexing mindlessly.

“Is she?” you asked.

“She’s going if you’re going, and Chris is going if she goes”.

“Couldn’t we watch a movie instead? I saw a new trailer, Jennifer's body. I think it’s about a cheerleader or something”.

“We do that every night”.

“How long do you plan on staying at this thing for?” you asked, as a bar of soap slipped from your hands.

“A few hours maybe”.

“I have to watch the Apollo kids get sloppy drunk for a few hours!”

“You don’t have to, Beauregard will be there and you can dance with her, and for one i’ll be there”.

You turned the shower off and asked Luke to hand you your towel which wrapped around your steam obscured body.

“I’ll think about it,” you said.

“You will!”

“Maybe”.

You knew you would go, but you found pleasure in listening to him beg.

_____

The dining pavilion echoed with conflicting chatter and a vengeful distraction on Herme's table.

“Uno!” Clarisse screamed, oblivious to the trembling campers who caught her adrenaline shattering gaze.

“You can’t end the game on a colour change”, Luke enlightened her.

“Fuck you i won”.

“He’s just mad we won to capture the flag” you spoke, looking in the direction of Chris who flicked a card at your forehead.

“We felt bad for always beating you, it was more of a let”.

“Your excuses numb me Rodrigues” you mocked, reshuffling the cards which were sprawled over the table. You push each set on the wood and begin another fretting game, watching everybody’s twitching features.

Pick up two

Pick up four

“Suck it Castellan!” Clarisse shrieked, watching his slowed response.

“Just pick up baby, you aren’t always going to be on top” you teasingly spoke, leaning over and patting his hand.

“I -” he gave up on his sentence and picked up 16 cards to his already enormous hand.

You won this round, Chris next and then Clarisse again, but uno could only progress for so many rounds before it became too repetitive.

“Let’s make this interesting, the winner gets a week off chores” Chris suggested, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m in, the stables stink like ass” you said, placing your stack in the middle for Clarisse to shuffle.

“I’m down” she agreed, your boyfriend’s smile only answering your question.

Once the challenge was set the game had become theatrical; Clarisse’s screams, Luke’s laughs and both you and Chris’ unspoken glances.

As the game advances Chris’ hands grew to contain an abundance of cards, the absurd sheets all falling when Luke yelled.

“Uno hah!” the final card hit the table and you couldn’t help, but groan.

“Watch your back Castellan” Clarrisse snarled, abruptly standing up to ease her steam. “Yeah Luke, wouldn’t want anyone to hurt you” you said, kissing him on the cheek then leaving back to cabin 3, with the promise of meeting him within an hour.

The Zeus cabin was consistently desolate, the stale air defeating the little number of inhabitants. The interior was a constant reminder of the gods' disinterest in your life, the vacant bunk beds and unclaimed spaces proved that you were an anomaly, but mostly a hazard.

The empty cabin smelt of pine and leather and despite your heavy usage of perfume, the lingering scent never seemed to fade. It was almost as if it were trying to silence your existence.

There wasn't the hustle or rush in your cabin as many others had to experience, only the hum of electricity and the quiet reflection from the open sky.

Despite your initial hushed greeting, your sister brought relief to the quiet, her steady presence in your life reassuring your every move. Thalia had grown from your half sibling to becoming your chosen family, you were tied together by blood, but her fondness for you never felt transactional, she made you feel appreciated for simply living. The only adversity with your sister's company is the loose chops of hair that would float around your cabin from her irrational trims, but ignoring the material difficulties - and her slight narcissism - you loved her, you always would. So did your friends, Clarisse admired her and they shared an unspoken respect for each other, she didn’t mind Chris or Silena and Luke were hers before he was yours. She was not jealous of your relationship, but she felt that she was losing him to you, the one person she could trust to not complicate her life, taking who meant most to her.

The addition of your companions and hers meant that your docile cabin was filled with bursts of spirit once every so often, but when the sky darkened and the temperature plummeted it was just Thalia and you, her words gentle and actions soft. You were the one person who she would protect from the brutality of the world, the one person she felt vulnerable with.

“I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?” Thalia asked, she gently hit the top of your head and moved towards the door with a bag slung over her shoulder.

“Mhm'' you agreed, watching her leave. Something that would never change would be her avoidance of goodbyes.

The air that gasped at Thalia’s departure was swiftly content with the arrival of Clarisse, your friend perched on the edge of your bed fastening a clasp of gold around her neck.

“You drinking tonight?” she asked.

“If I plan to leave with my sanity, then yes” you replied, shrugging your jacket over your top. The camp shirts were comfortable, but they didn’t exactly exude “lets get drunk and make mistakes”, so events usually held a casual attire.

She made a low hum, “I could use a break”.

“I heard Beau’s gonna be there tonight”, you plucked at an invisible string that entwined Silena and Clarisse. “I know, I heard she’s hooking up with Beckendorf”.

“Heard you finally hooked up with Rodrigues”, you teased at the new found information that she shared over a piece of toast. She threw a shoe at the back of your chair and you turned with a grin. “How is that going?”

“Yes” she mumbled.

“Yes?”

“He’s shit but he’s nice”.

“He’ll get better, they usually do” you smiled.

“Please don’t tell me you're referring to Castellan”.

“No, he was always a good shag”.

“Block my ears please”.

“You asked”.

“I did not!” she defended, swiping lipstick from your desk.

“Where do you go anyways?” you questioned, you were eager for the answer since you never found any privacy. Whether you were stealing kisses behind stone sculptures or bent over in your dark cabin you always seemed to get interupted, any mood which arose immediately decreasing.

She replied with one word “Showers”.

“You ever get caught?”

“Twice, but people learn to piss off pretty quickly”.

You caught her eye in the mirror and couldn’t help but laugh, because in a matter of moments you were immersed amongst the Dionysus cabin which held sweaty bodies and flashing lights, Clarisse leaving your side swiftly to down shots which piled up seamlessly.

On either side of the floor stood pulsating stereos that only added to the distraught atmosphere. The cabin scraped up surprisingly well from its usual mess, but the strung lights and table of drinks could not pull away from the crowds.

These parties always proved to be tedious.

Nobody could hold their liquor and the room was swarmed with drunken mistakes. Within ten minutes you had observed your friends humiliate themselves willingly and drag one another into private corners, everybody seemed eager to confess their secrets which you listened to absently, their breath laced with cheap alcohol.

Many of their vicarious actions humbling any pedestal you placed them on.

“No you listen to me, i - i know it’s dumb, but he has nice eyebrows” Silena slurred, hovering over you.

“Beau you don’t know him” you explained, trying to impede your words into her intoxicated mind.

“But I love him!” she exclaimed rather loudly.

“How about we get you back to your sisters” you suggested, setting your drink on the table beside you. You hitched her arm over your shoulders and searched for Drew who always seemed to be alert, letting her fall into her arms.

“Maybe you can stop baby sitting and enjoy yourself”.

You turned to your boyfriend, “perhaps i could if this cabin weren’t filled with idiots”.

“Are you calling me an idiot?” Luke asked as he slid his hand through yours.

“Yes”.

“You will never have fun if you don’t let yourself”.

“I never will then”.

“Not with that attitude”.

“Your personality fatigues me”, you pestered and rolled your eyes.

“Loose some layers and come dance with me” he suggested, taking a few steps towards you.

“It’s four degrees outside”.

“Not in here it’s not” he said, his fingers slipping behind the neck of your jumper and trailing down so the zip fell with each moment.

You wouldn’t admit to it, but his touch sent sparks down your spine and any excuse for him to be touching you, you would both utilise.

He leant closer and brushed his lips against your ear, placing your jacket over his arm.

“I love these little lace up tops'”, he whispered, his words fighting against the rising voice of Shakira. His hands toyed with the strings of your shirt before pulling you towards the crowd of campers whose arms were strewn above their heads.

Lucky you were born that far away so

We could both make fun of distance

You shifted weight on your feet and loosened a little to “wherever whenever”, stifling a laugh as Luke spins you around and into his arms, attempting to ease your rigor. You didn’t want to enjoy yourself, but you couldn’t help but find a steady sway in your hips as Luke guided them mindlessly, his hands on the bare skin of your back.

Le-do-lo-le-lo-le, le-do-lo-le-lo-le

Can't you see? I'm at your feet

The flashing array of lights only made it more tempting to seek out comfort in Luke’s body, the blue hue making him appear angelic which wasn't far from the truth.

Whenever, wherever

We're meant to be together

From the sheer number of people dancing your bodies were pushed together, his hands tight against your ass to keep you close. His placement was intentional so when he turned you they could travel to your hips with ease. You skimmed your body against his, his lips peppering small kisses along your neck as you pressed yourself further into him.

Lucky that my lips not only mumble

They spill kisses like a fountain

You let your head rest against him as he nips below your ear, his fingers pressing into your hips firmly, you were sure you were branded. You couldn’t help but feel completely and utterly blissful (horny is the right word) allowing his hands to turn you so you features eagerly brushed against one another.

His head drops to the space between your neck and shoulders while a hand travels up your side, one still swaying you gently. His fingers fold under the hem of your top and progress to cup your breast in his hands, his fingers pressing into the fat. It doesn’t take you long to assist his grip back to your waist, but once he hangs loosely around your middle you feel as if you know all there is to Luke Castellan, the soft curls only the start to him.

Le-do-lo-le-lo-le, le-do-lo-le-lo-le

At your feet, I'm at your feet

You didn’t care considerably for the music, but it seemed to completely cease when a hand landed on your shoulder, trying to tug you away from your boyfriend. It took little time for Luke to notice the hand and for you to turn, to only have your nerves ease when the grip belonged to Clarisse who drunkenly pulled you close to her, laughing, holding you affectionately, not caring for Luke’s groans from the loss of you.

After a few sweaty dances both you and Chris found solace in the contents of red solo cups, both attempting to empty the liquor fastest. You threw the liquor down your neck ignoring the burn, watching him mirror your movements, but even then, that didn't last too long, your body - with the assistance of Silena’s hands - were being pulled over the people who were gathered around the carpeted floor in a circle.

Chris was to your left in and you both looked for one another for an answer, but when a bottle was placed in the middle of the group by a child of Hecate, it gave you your response.

They went first, spinning the empty bottle and met a child of Hermes in the centre for a quick snog before it spun again and spun until it came in the hands of Luke.

He leant forward and breathlessly spun it swiftly. You watched it pass you and Clarisse and anybody you would be comfortable for your boyfriend to kiss until it landed on a pretty girl from the Hephaestus cabin. She smiled as she leant forward and so did Luke,

Moments before he planted a generous kiss on her lips his eyes met yours for a split second then closed. The more she explored his lips the more her hands wandered, pulling at a few curls at the nape of his neck, touring with the strands which were yours.

You could feel yourself blink and by the time they pulled away giggles slipped out of the girls lips and you felt like you were going to gag. You rolled your eyes at their persistence, but you let your gaze linger on the girl who seemed cheerful.

The glass continued to spin, people meeting in the middle numerous times until it caught at the carpet facing your knees. You looked up to the person you were soon to meet and when you did your lips tugged into a grin.

Enzo you believed his name to be, a son of Aphrodite, very renowned for his soft lips and gentle touch, that which you were eager to know. You could admire one's beauty, but you felt no need to act on your impressions, so when you could - free of charge - you would.

Enzo dark curls fell over his eyes, framing his face carefully as he neared closer to you, his lips instantly falling onto yours when his hand snaked around your neck. He moved differently - his lips that it - it was nothing like Luke. Enzo was harsh and he had no hesitation as if pouring his soul through the press, you felt like you had known him in several languages and multiple lifetimes.

The room blurred a little after you pulled away, a swift last kiss pressed to your cheek as if bidding his farewell. You smiled at his warmth and then moved to your seat, watching the already spinning bottle at the hand of Silena.

“Had fun?” Chris whispered to you, watching a daughter of Iris pull Silena into a messy snog.

“I suppose so”.

“My brother looks riveted,” he said, his tone teasing.

“When does he not” you replied, turning to his impending gaze on you.

“What” you mouthed.

“Nothing,” he mused, it wasn’t nothing, but you were too intoxicated off of your dances and a few drinks to be concerned.

When the game disbanded and were relocated it took very little to persuade you of much, so when the offer to play just dance arose you had no hesitation in amusing yourself with the game, Clarisse and Chris beside you.

Out of the humming centre lay a few old couches which are where you flickered through songs on a wii and paused at “wannabe” by the spice girls.

The first few beats of the song played and you instantly began mirroring the characters on the screen, mimicking the choreography.

You carelessly moved your body and couldn’t help, but laugh at Chris who was never graced with the ability of rhythm. You danced and allowed yourself to disregard any priorities you held, letting them drip off of you like the sweat that beaded on your lower back.

“Hey Y/n!” Clarisse yelled over the chatter and music.

“Yeah?” you responded, breathing heavily as you danced the last few moments of the song before falling against the couches behind you.

“Call me a daughter of Hermes, but I'd love to travel in your bra”.

You giggled at the joke, “call me a son-”

“Son?” “- of Poseidon, but there’s a tsunami forming between my thighs” you laughed, leaning over to plant a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

“Call me Kronos’ but i would love to eat you up” Chris teased as he slumped next to Clarisse snaking an arm around her.

“Oh um” you stirred, thinking of a comeback.

“Maybe I am the daughter of Athena, because I would love to strategize how to open your legs,” Clarrisse slurred, making you breathless from her stupid jokes.

You leant into her side, her arms around you and Chris, she had two hands after all, but so did you, your grasp empty of Luke.

“Where’s Luke?” you said, not caring of your volume, recalling what felt missing.

“Probably moping”.

“About what?”

“Global warming i don’t know” Chris confessed, causing you to push yourself from the couch and to search for your lost boy.

Your head buzzed and your limbs ached, not particularly from movement, but lack off. You staggered through the room and allowed yourself to take your time as you lazily surveyed the following in front of you. Mist glazed your sight, so every step felt like a game of charades, hoping you would not fall against the wrong body.

“Luke” your voice croaked, pulling a hand to your mouth when a hiccup left your lips. “Luke” you repeated, your legs weak under you as you trailed through the bodies and dropped possessions.

“Need help angel?”

You were close to the door when a boy from the Apollo cabin steadied you, “I - i where’s Luke?”

“He’s outside I believe”.

“Thank you soldier” you saluted the blonde.

“You sure you’re ok getting there”.

“Impertantly” you slurred pulling away from him and using the door frame to push yourself out of the hustle with a groan. “Luke” you slurred, the last letters elongating, “hide and seek, i see”. You passively rubbed at your eye with your hand, your make up cascading across your cheek with each swipe. “It’s ok, I'm not going to eat you”.

Your words fell like your body did against a plush landing of greenery. “You’re not Luke'', you hit the grass and recoiled as shocks sent through your fingers and sparks threatened to spread against the green. “I hate you” you spat, letting the grey fog in the air drag a body towards you.

The voice spoke, but you couldn’t decipher their words, but their touch, it was one you would recognise blindly. Luke was not immune to your sparks, but found pleasure in the shocks as it proved your consciousness. He ran his hands across your sweaty forehead and did not flinch as you reached to pull yourself to him, melting in his arms.

“Let's get you to your bed hm?”

Luke indulged in alcohol but knew his limits, unlike you who drank till senseless.

“I’m not tired” you whined, morosing with the thought of your bed.

“How about a walk to take the edge off”.

“No” you denied his other request.

“What do you want then”.

“You”.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

this was sitting in my drafts and i probably will re write <3

@prettyinsatiable @daisydark @creamsweets @auttumnsayshi @ashr0 @y0urm0m12 @2hiigh2cry @niktwazny303

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagines #luke pjo #pjo x you #pjo x reader #riawrites

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bbgghost · 1 month

Text

lot to love: chapter 3

blurb: you are the nineteen year old, younger, mutant sister of Mystique. you go to Professor X's school and have been since you were young slow burn with wolverine ♡♡♡

a.n. i don't remember what the rooms are called in the mansion i tried my best thanks queens. i feel this is better than the last even if it barely mentions logan lol. also ik i just posted chapter 2 but i have time to write so why not ♡

c.w. reader gets nervous, reference to smoking in a past chapter, fighting (not with logan), mention of blood and a wound. also age-gap between reader and logan cos he is 200+ yrs old !

masterlist | tags: @white-wolf-buckaroo

You had woken up earlier. Early enough that it was before the sun had even risen. Ororo had knocked on your door at 4:00 exactly. With a deep sigh you had told her you would get up. You didn't want to disappoint so you quickly grabbed your day clothes and rushed to the communal bathrooms where you had washed your face and brushed your teeth. You considered leaving your skin in its natural blue shade, with scales and all. Instead, you made your looks as normal as possible. You almost looked like you were before you left home.

Rolling your eyes at the thought you stepped out of the bathroom and walked down the hallway and the lengthy steps till you found Logan. "Hey kid. You ready?" He asked. "Yeah... I guess." He gave you a knowing look at your response. You held his eye contact for a bit.

"Meet us down outside the training room." The Professors voice echoed in your heads. Logan coughed and broke eye contact before walking past you. You blinked before turning and following him down the hall and into another room.

"Once you enter the facility, this will all be about you Y/N." The Professor said firmly. You nodded and listened even more attentively if possible. "As soon as you land, you'll be on your own. All you will need to get is the files labelled 'Lehnsherr, Eric' and 'Darkholme, Raven'." You clenched your jaw at the mention of your sisters name.

"Right..." You affirmed. Both Logan and Ororo looked at you concerned. "After that, you just need to walk out the front door and there should be a car waiting for you infront of the lobby." He finished his instructions and you took that as indication to get moving. Ororo guided you into another room where a suit awaited you. "I'll leave you to it." She said kindly.

You showed her a brief smile before turning back to the suit. You heard the click of the door as she shut it, and you began stripping. Slipping on the suit wasn't as difficult as you thought it would have been. The mostly black suit, with its small yellow accents looked so familiar to you. You pulled you hair out from under it and grimaced at the sight of yourself. It fit against your body perfectly, it just didn't feel like it belonged to you.

Coming out of the room, you saw Logan take a deep gulp as he gave you a once over. Ororo gave you a sweet smile as you all boarded the jet. Sitting in the seat behind Logan and Ororo, you strapped yourself in and stared ahead of you. After a couple buttons pressed by the lady infront of you, the plane you were now defintely trapped in begin to lift in the air. You clenched your jaw tightly, gulped and dug your nails into your palm. Hearing your teeth grit against each other, Logan turned and gave you a harsh, concerned look.

"You're alright kid." He said. God, as if that was gonna do fuck-all! You ignored him, but once you got to a steady pace, you managed to calm yourself down. Taking deep breaths you looked out the large expanse of the window. Logan turned to you again. He glanced at your heaving breasts, then your face before whipping his head back to the front. He prayed you hadn't caught him and tried his best to suppress the feeling brewing in his chest.

After about twenty minutes of cruising, you had begun your descent. It was now 6:00am, and you were still pretty tired. Flashes of last night crossed your mind as you though about everything he said to you. And how you had shared that cigarette, even if only for a second. You were truly day dreaming at this point. Imaging what else he could've done if he hadn't stopped it there and lit his own. He had tasted your lipgloss. The thought of that made your heart race even faster.

Logan had looked at you without you noticing. You had this dazed expression on your face, and your heart rate was going faster as the moments went on. You bit your lip softly. He didn't know if he was more grateful for the fact you weren't stressed anymore or for the sight you were giving him.

Either way, you had landed, smoothly might you add. You unbuckled yourself and moved towards the back of the jet. The large door opened and your walked down it to see a sleek, black BMW sitting on the dirtroad next to the field you had landed on. "Oh, hell yeah." You exclaimed, quickly walking toards it. You ran your hands along the rims of the window, aweing at how modern it looked. Ororo laughed at your excitement and came up beside you, handing over the keys. "Don't do anything too crazy." She said with a smile.

"Thanks." You breathed before unlocking the car and hopping in. Once in you turned on the radio and rolled down the window. "You seem alot happier now." Logan said as he leaned into the opening you had provided. "Yeah, I am!" You said as you put the keys in the ignition. "Okay kid. Stay safe." He told you before moving backwards and tapping the boot of the car.

You had begun driving before they could remind you of the key things of the mission. Turning on the radio, you heard the familiar tunes of some old Elvis song. You were in some old Western town on the outskirts of Washington, so its only made sense. You drove along the dirt roads until they turned to tar, and you continued. You'd only ever driven a few cars in the past couple of years, and they had only ever been with Ororo. You had to say though, this was the coolest one yet.

"In 500m you will arrive at your destination." said the robotic voice of the GPS. You took that as a queue and shape-shift into the man you were pretending to be. When you arrived, you parked in a random spot and grabbed the breif-case in the passanger seat.

You stepped out of the car and walked towards the front of the building. The security guards scanned your prints before you walked into the lobby. People were buzzing everywhere, they were all dressed as official as you and most of them had phones to their ears. You gulped down any nerves you had before walking towards the elevator. Once you got in there, you looked at the many labels for each level.

You had decided that Case Management was probably the most suiting one. Somehow, despite the buzz and noise in the lobby, there was only one other person in their with you. He stared at his phone the entire time, but got out on the same floor as you.

"Level 10. Case Management."

As soon as you stepped out you saw the rows and rows of files that adorned each shelf. On the left of the shelves there were about ten desks. You walked over to one with your name and placed your breif-case on top of it. You sat down for a moment, pretending to work on something in a note pad, before standing up. You made a beeline towards the rows labed 'S' and after retreiving Magneto's file made your way over to the 'D'. Opening the draw you found your sisters. You opened it and skimmed over the different information that they had on file.

Siblings: Darkholme, Y/N - F, 19 years of age, assumed to have similar powers and therefore of a similar level of threat.

You rolled your eyes before taking your two files and stuffing them in your suit jacket pocket. You walked back to the elevator and waited for the ding of the doors.

When you did hear them, you looked up. There stood a man, dressed formally, but when you looked him in the eyes you knew there was something wrong. Oh god, you thought. An immediate look of rage overtook the mans face as he lunged at you. Quickly, you dodged the attack and stood tall again. He stood up and stared at you madder than before and threw a punch your way. "Ugh! Raven!" You screamed, touching your now bloody cheek.

"Shut up!" She growled, before shoving you against the back of the elevator. You kneed her in the gut and watched her keel over. You didn't want to have to do this. You really didn't. But you needed to get the hell out of there. So you shoved her out of the doors way before pressing the close button. You watched her run to the doors and try to open them as they closed. The last thing you got from her was a loud scream, "No!"

You're heart racing in the silent elevator, you touched the cheek she had punched again. Taking your hand back, you looked at the blood covering it. You pulled out your phone before holding it up to your ear, trying to cover the mark as much as you could. Rushing out of the building and into the car, not without some concerned looks from strangers, you finally took a breath.

You turned to see your sister, now in her normal form running towards your car. After screaming some profanities, you reversed before speeding out ino the busy streets of Washington. You heart wouldn't stop beating fast until the tar streets had turned to dirt and when you could see the start of the field that Ororo had landed in.

Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, you could really feel the pain of being hit in the face. Popping down the sunshade, and revealing the mirror you looked into your reflection. There was swelling around the area, and a good amount of blood was dripping from the wound. You touched it so softly, yet still let out a hiss at the contact. Tears brimmed in your eyes as you took more deep breaths. You looked back at the road, and pushed the sunshade further forward till it no longer was in your way.

"Fuck me." You whisper to yourself, tears now fully going down your cheeks.

#wolverine x reader #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #logan #x men

116 notes · View notes

221bshrlocked · 1 year

Text

i remember...

Pairings: Captain Rex x afab! Jedi Reader

Words: 8579

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending. Mutual Pining. Some mention of blood loss but it’s not graphic. Love Confessions due to anesthesia-like fluids. I make up some random stuff about bacta so just ignore that bit please. Sad Rex. Heated Make-Out Session. Oral (female receiving). Squirting. Oversensitivity. Biting. Slight Dirty Talk. Penetrative, Unprotected Sex (wrap the shlong before you king kong my dudes). Breeding Kink. Creampie. Rex being a gentleman after sex.

Summary: “You’re s-safe, thank the Force.” His hold on you tightens when you hiss in pain, but you never once turn away from him, wanting to commit every moment to memory. If you survive this, you are sure you will never come this close to him again. But if you die, oh, if you die, then you would have spent your last seconds showing him how much he means to you.

A/N: This is for @imarvelatthestars who is also taking part in the @cloneficgiftexchange. I hope you enjoy this and I can’t wait for you to read the two other fics as well. Also, hi it’s nice to meet you :) This was originally going to be just fluff but my hands slipped and they went all the way so I hope you don’t mind. P.S. This is the first time I write for our dear Captain so I hope I got his character down correctly. If not, please let me know how I can write him better. As always, reblogs are appreciated.

It was becoming unbearable, mustering up the courage to fight every day in a war that meant absolutely nothing, that held no benefits for anyone except for those in political standings. The feeling of dread only worsened in the past few months, almost as soon as you were added to the 501st as another General. Count Dooku’s thirst for blood has increased, and you had this fear that it wasn’t only him. No, there was something much bigger playing at hand.

Perhaps someone even.

Shaking the dreadful thoughts aside, you scan the grounds quickly to see if any of your men were still alive. As you walk through the carnage, you will yourself to come to terms with the reality of this new life that has been thrust upon you, the recognition that it was most likely worse for your men making you wince angrily before returning to the task at hand.

“General,” the familiar voice of your Captain shifts your attention behind you, and you nod with an exasperation you’re sure is visible to him as you head towards his equally fatigued body.

“Any news on whether Anakin managed to get the intel?” You rub the side of your temple as you wait for Captain Rex to focus on you instead of his dead brothers surrounding you.

“He uh, he didn’t get there in time. He thinks one of the super tactical droids destroyed everything before it self-destructed.” You can hear the disappointment in his voice, and you look into his eyes for a moment to gauge his reaction. Grief swims in his eyes as he returns your gaze, and you hate that you don’t have to look at him to know what’s going through his mind. His Force signature is a cool shade of blue, one that parallels the lines adorning his armor, and your heart clenches when you see how different it is from the normally calming purple hue often surrounding him and setting your mind at ease. You’re reminded once again of just how much of a toll this war is taking on him and his brothers, and you turn away from him out of fear of bursting into tears and making matters worse.

If only you could comfort him beyond what’s deemed appropriate.

If only you could tell him how you feel.

“Don’t worry General, we’ll get them next time.” You hate that he’s trying to make you feel better when it is you who should be offering him supporting words. No words manage to part your lips, and you hum at him as you kick one of the battle droids nearby, trying to distract yourself from pushing past those hidden boundaries and embracing him in an attempt to return those affections he so clearly pushed upon you.

Just as you walk around him, you sense a strange feeling overtake your mind, and you glance to the side quickly, not really thinking of what you’re doing as you step in front of the Captain and activate your lightsaber. The sequence of the blaster shots drives your anger deeper, and you evade them to the best of your abilities, away from Rex and yourself until they each hit the battle droid attempting to kill you.

Scanning the area one last time, your mouth runs dry when you turn around and watch pure and utter shock display as clear as daylight on your Captain’s features. Pushing the weapon back into the holster around your hips, you smile at him to let him know that he would always be safe with you, only to tilt your head in confusion when he doesn’t return the gesture. You follow his line of sight and watch as the adrenaline of the battle leaves your body and makes way for a searing hot pain shooting through your side. Pushing your palm against your hip, you take it away and find it laced with fresh blood.

“C-Commander?”

In all the time you have spent with Rex, you have never once heard him display such unadulterated fear, not when he was near death all those months ago, nor when he thought there was no escape for him and his brothers after a particularly draining battle.

“Rex.”

You whisper his name as you fall to your knees, but strong arms reach for you before you hit the ground, turning you over and pushing violently against the wound to prevent it from bleeding.

“Kriff, why- why would you…you shouldn’t have-” He can’t get a single word out, and you try your best to set aside the pain shooting through your body so you can enjoy being in his arms. You feel your muscles give out, barely allowing you to reach up and caress his cheek. You don’t realize you’ve painted his beautiful skin with blood until you see tears rolling down his cheeks and stream a pink line to his chin.

“You’re s-safe, thank the Force.” His hold on you tightens when you hiss in pain, but you never once turn away from him, wanting to commit every moment to memory. If you survive this, you are sure you will never come this close to him again. But if you die, oh, if you die, then you would have spent your last seconds showing him how much he means to you.

“Stay with me, mesh’la.” He leans down and rests his forehead against your own, distracting you enough before he lifts you in his arms and runs to the nearest gunship. You clutch onto his shoulder like your life depends on it, unable to hold back from crying as each movement sends throbbing stabs down your spine and across your hip. You can faintly hear his apologies, and you rest your head against his shoulder to distract yourself once again. This close, you can smell his natural scent, and you shiver when you recognize how musky and sweet it is as it seeps through your senses.

You think you hear him call for Kix, but you can’t stay awake for much longer, the blood loss and your body’s fatigued nature taking over as soon as you get on the gunship. Rex puts you down with ease, but he snaps your name harshly when he sees you shutting your eyes and going limp in his arms again.

“Don’t close your eyes,” it’s his Captain voice, and you laugh at the demanding tone he’s aiming at you, only to cough violently and clutch at your side when your body jolts forward.

“I thought I g-give the orders here?” He doesn’t bother to smile at you, and you hate that he knows you’re only trying to diffuse the tension. When you look up at him, you find him frowning down at you, the blue aura around him now turning even darker as he looks around to see if Kix is nearby.

You gulp as the ship comes to life, and the harder you try to remain awake, the more tired your mind becomes. As you look around you, you find several of the men staring at you with worry etched on their features, and you feel a sense of peace wash over you at the thought of being so important to them. You can no longer keep yourself conscious, and just as you turn your head to the side and see Kix jumping into the gunship, you surrender to a deep sleep filled with midnight blue embraces and loving words.

A bright light wakes you from your haze, and you flutter your eyes quickly to get used to the blinding rays shining down on you. You try to get up immediately but a hand to your shoulder keeps you laying down, and you look to the side to see Kix whispering calming words to you.

“You nearly gave us a fright Commander,” he says after a while, and you look around to try and figure out where you are, only to find an extremely uncomfortable and worried Captain standing by your bed.

“Rex…”

“What were you thinking, hmm?” He snaps harshly at you, making you furrow your eyebrows in curiosity before you turn to Kix. Before you can say anything, Kix walks around and pushes Rex’s chest, urging him to move back and calm himself.

“You may be the Captain, but I outrank you here. I will not have you yelling at one of my patients. Understand?” His tone is firm, and you giggle at the thought of hearing one of Rex’s men not minding getting physical with him.

“I…feel weird.” You sigh deeply and look down, only to see several tubes coming in and out of your skin.

“That would be the Bacta IV. You weren’t doing so well Commander, a simple bacta patch wouldn’t have done the trick.” Kix removes himself from Rex but remains in between the two of you, checking on the needles one last time before moving to the other end of the room. You watch as he makes himself busy, and whatever conscious part of your mind thinks that he’s only pretending so he can give the two of you some privacy.

“To answer your question Captain, I- uhhh…I wasn’t thinking.” You drag the sheets down your body, suddenly feeling flushed as Rex continues to stare at you with a fiery anger you never thought him capable of.

“Actually, that’s…n-not true. I was thinking…but- you know what I mean.” You are not making much sense, and when Rex sighs before pulling up a chair to sit next to you, you smile at you and reach for his hand. He takes it reluctantly but never once looks at you. Neither of you say anything for a while, and you slowly begin to fall asleep when he continues to rub your wrist with his thumb.

“What were you thinking mesh’la…”

It’s a rhetorical question, or at least, you would have recognized that it is had you been more aware and less drugged. You open your eyes and gaze into his own, finding them filled with unshed tears. He looks defeated, and you frown at him while you tug on his hand to bring him closer to you.

“Don’t…don’t cry. It makes me sad to see you cry Rex.”

He chuckles then and you smile at him, rubbing the back of his hand in return to soothe him a little.

“I was thinking of you, and- and how it would kill me if I were to lose you. I can’t lose you Rex, I- I would not survive another day without you…I love you too much to let you go.” You’re not sure why the room is suddenly silent. All you know is, Rex’s Force signature has turned a deep shade of red and his fingers stopped drawing patterns on your skin. You think you hear Kix turn around but you’re too busy looking into the Captain’s eyes to register anything that’s not him.

“Mesh’la,” you want to ask him what the word means, but your eyes grow heavy yet again, and you rest your cheek on the pillow while gazing into his hazel, brown orbs. Before you can say anything else, you fall right back to sleep, completely missing Rex’s reaction to your confession and Kix’s reassurances that you were stable but required to rest further.

You dream of a time filled with peace, of longing gazes and soft caresses. Your mind fills your heart with hopes and wishes, ones you pretend are not impossible to reach. Your heart, once guarding a close-kept secret, finally feels as light as a feather, and it clenches softly when it hears revelations of a similar love, words yo uneven thought would be reciprocated as desperately.

It’s this last sensation that wakes you again, except this time, you’re less dazed than before but much more awake. Sitting up quickly, you study the room you’re in and take a few deep breaths to try and collect your bearings.

“Commander, you’re safe. You’re alive and safe. Breathe, breathe for me.” You look up and watch as Kix guides you through breathing techniques, and only when you’re relaxed and aware of your surroundings do you finally notice the other figure standing nearby.

“How long have I been out?” You ask as you look down and move the medbay gown to the side to see the wound. It’s fully healed and you throw Kix a quick glance, silently thanking him for everything that he has done for you.

“Almost 22 hours, sir. It’s quite remarkable actually, most people would take much longer to heal, even with the bacta. Then again, you’re a Jedi after all.” He checks your vitals, not bothering to mention that Rex is in the room. When he’s sure you’re all clear, he steps aside and finishes some reports on his holopad. You look to your right and watch as Rex slowly approaches you, sitting down on a chair near your bedside and slowly reaching for your hand. You’re surprised by the gesture but don’t deny him, looking back to Kix to see if he is aware of what his Captain is doing.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like a bantha ran me over,” you laugh at your own reply, but Rex doesn’t grace you with a hint of a smile. There is something nagging at the back of your mind, and you narrow your eyes at your joined hands, only to gasp lightly when he rubs your wrist and moves closer to you. If Kix notices what’s happening, he says nothing and turns around to give you some privacy.

“Do you…do you remember anything?” Rex asks reluctantly, and you get the sense that he wants to tell you something but is holding back out of fear of your reaction.

“I remember walking through the battle, and…and talking with you. I remember a droid trying to shoot at you but I took him down before he hurt you. And…I remember getting shot at.” You recollect the events of the last rotation to the best of your abilities, and when you stop speaking, you notice Rex’s aura shift to a cool haze once more.

Kriff, what was it?

“You don’t remember anything else?” He asks yet again, and you tilt your head to the side in confusion, his tone of voice bordering that of a man who has just lost everything he ever had.

“I- I uhh…no. I don’t.” You shake your head several times to figure out if he was referring to anything specific. When you turn to Kix to ask him if he knows what his Captain is talking about, you notice an apologetic expression on his features, one that was not aimed at you but his brother. Before you can say anything, Rex lets go of your hands, making you wish you can give him whatever answer he was searching for.

“I see,” it’s all Rex says before he stands up and pushes the chair back to the wall. You watch as he takes a stance and salutes you, his eyes never meeting your own again as he thanks you for saving him before running out of the room. You don’t turn away from the shut door until Kix walks by and checks your vitals again.

There is so much you want to ask him, but knowing Kix, you get the sense that he wouldn’t tell you even if you begged. He was good at keeping secrets, always has been.

“You’re cleared to leave General, though I do suggest you take it easy for the next few days. You may have physically healed but the psychological strain will take longer to get back to normal. Will you be needing any pain medication?” Kix asks as he takes out all of the needles and tubes from your arms, and you shake your head while you look up at him, hoping that you find whatever answer Rex was looking for swimming in his eyes. He avoids your gaze altogether, and you shut your eyes in irritation at the thought of upsetting Rex.

Maker, what was it?

You do your best to not take your frustration out on Kix as you get dressed, and before you leave, you thank him for taking care of you for the past rotation. He offers you his best wishes before returning to his seat and you make your way back to your quarters in the Jedi Temple slowly, all the while trying to figure out what transpired that made Rex ask you several times if you remembered anything, but more importantly, what you could have possibly said that upset Rex so much and made him leave without sparing you a second glance.

You keep to yourself as you head to your rooms, searching your mind for any clue as to what has happened after the battle. When you finally make it to the privacy of your space, you remove all of your clothes and go straight to the refresher, wanting to get rid of the blood and grime that has stuck to your skin for the past day. But no matter what you do, you can’t remember anything past the battlefield, and you feel your mind almost collapse on itself when the annoyance of memory loss turns into sheer anger.

Force above, what was it?

It occurs to you much later than you would care to admit that there was no way you can recall anything if you’re this unstable, and against your better judgment, you make your way to one of the meditation rooms instead of getting some rest as Kix suggested. As soon as you enter the quiet place, you move near one of the fountains, finding the consistent sound of water soothing to your soul. As you sit down, you take a few deep breaths and clear your mind of anything not related to the Captain of the 501st.

As you initially thought, it’s much more difficult to focus your mind when all you can feel is guilt for making Rex feel so disappointed and sad. You recall back all of the conversations you’ve held with him, especially the ones that lasted for an entire night as you kept watch before a serious battle. You remember the snide remarks aimed at Anakin, and the jokes he often laughed at the expense of Ahsoka. You remember and remember…

But no matter what you think of, you still can’t quite figure out what happened in the past rotation.

Willing yourself to focus harder, you decide to empty your mind altogether, even of those moments with Rex that you cherished and kept closely-guarded within your heart.

The Coruscanti sun slowly moves past the horizon but you remain seated against the flowing waters, pleading with the Force to give you a sliver of a hint so you can fix whatever wrong you made against Rex.

It’s only when your senses finally still do you see a faint dark red pass through your mind’s eye. You zero in on the memory, pushing yourself past your levels of comfort to seek out the desperate aura once again.

I was thinking of you.

Your voice rings through your mind, not sounding normal to your ears, but you are confident it is your own. Clenching your fists tightly, you seek out the memory until it flashes before your eyes as clear as the searing Twin Suns on a hot Tatooine day.

I can’t lose you Rex.

A faint sensation passes down your arm to your wrist, and you feel Rex’s thumb halt in its movement the more you reveal to him your secret. You can see his hands shaking as you pull him closer to you, the words spilling from your mouth making your heart skip a beat as realization washes over you.

I love you too much to let you go.

The last image flashing before your eyes is the look of utter shock that befalls Rex’s handsome features, and had it not been for the soft manner in which he whispers that one word to you in return, you would think he was completely repulsed by what you just confessed to him.

You open your eyes instantly, wincing yet again when your senses become overloaded with the sounds and scents all around you. Looking around the room, you take a few minutes to come to terms with the reality of what has transpired between yourself and the Captain.

Maker.

You had told him what you promised yourself you would never reveal to him.

In a moment of weakness, your heart decided to reveal its deepest secret instead of continuing to keep it hidden.

Looking outside the large glass windows, you notice how dark it became outside and curse yourself for taking so long to remember. It would be inappropriate to go to him now.

You look down to your hand and trace the skin Rex has touched all those hours ago, smiling to yourself when you recognize that your heart has already made the decision for you.

Not caring for how mad you must look, you race outside of the meditation rooms and run through the hallways of the Temple, ignoring the strange and concerning looks from the others still awake as you make it past the gates of your home and towards the barracks of the 501st Legion. It is raining uncontrollably outside, and you nearly lose your footing a few times as you run across the grounds towards the familiar building near the Jedi Temple. You see a handful of men hanging outside the barracks, and they try to call out to you to see if you need any assistance, but you pay them no mind, heading straight to the quarters of the Captain and ignoring how soaked you’ve become in your journey to him.

When you reach the hallways housing the Clone leaders, you slow down and move past the doors silently, praying to the maker that he was in his quarters and not elsewhere. As you reach the end of the hallway, you come to a stop in front of the large, steel doors housing Rex, and before you can think twice of what you’re doing, you push a few buttons on the pad beside the doors, waiting patiently for them to slide open to you.

There is a faint sound of frustrated sighs from behind the door, and you nearly laugh at the sudden turn of events, but the doors slide open and reveal an extremely tired and irritated Clone Captain, one that had just gotten out of the showers from the looks of it.

“Fives, if I have to tell you one more time- kriff, G-General!” His eyes widen in horror at the sight of you, and he walks out to the hallway to see if there are any signs of danger that led you to him. When he finds it as empty as ever, he turns back around and eyes you suspiciously.

“General, what- what are you doing here?” Rex asks, continuing to avoid your gaze as he moves back to his quarters and tugs you along with him. You realize too late that you probably shouldn’t be found at such an odd hour in your Captain’s private rooms, but you brush the thought aside, knowing that this could not wait for another time. You don’t respond right away though, and Rex studies you slowly before moving to his dresser and taking out a pair of sweatpants and a shirt.

“Here, change into these.” He throws the articles of clothing towards you, but you throw them back on the bed instantly, approaching him slowly to avoid scaring him.

“Captain.” You try to catch his attention, but Rex is adamant on not sparing you a single glance, moving to the other end of the room and grabbing one of his shirts before putting it on quickly.

“I don’t mind General,” he attempts to distract you, and you shake your head at him while following him around the small room.

“Captain, please.”

“You’re going to catch a cold, and I’m not going to hear the end of it from Kix.” Rex ignores whatever you’re saying and rubs his temples furiously, making you wish he would just look at you instead of avoiding you as if you were just another commanding officer.

As if you hadn’t spilled your heart out to him a day ago.

Your frustrations nearly get to you, but you quickly come to understand that the man in front of you would continue ignoring your pleas if you didn’t cut to the chase and tell him what you came here for.

“I remember.”

Rex stops in his pacing, dropping his arms to his side and looking at the gray wall ahead of him. He doesn’t move a muscle, and your heart skips a beat when the hue around him turns into that familiar shade of burgundy once more, the same one that graced your sight when you told him how much you love him.

“I remember, Rex.”

You repeat your words and watch as he slowly turns around and meets your eyes in a heated gaze. He continues to remain silent and you take the chance to step closer to him, hoping that he doesn’t get spooked by your revelation and walk away again.

“You- you remember?” His question is laced with a faltering anxiety that you hate you’ve caused him to feel, and you close the last bit of space between the two of you, smiling at him as you reach for his hand and rub your thumb over his wrist.

“I remember…I remember everything Rex.”

He gulps down at you, watching carefully as you extend his wrist up to your mouth and lay the softest of kisses across the sensitive skin beneath your thumb. His sharp intake of breath sends a shiver down your spine, and before you can say anything else, Rex pushes you back against the nearest wall and attacks your lips in a desperate kiss. You moan into him immediately, throwing your arms around his shoulders just as he leans down and grabs your hips to hoist you up in between his rigid body and the solid wall behind you.

You part your lips in a gasp and Rex takes advantage of your shock, sneaking his tongue into your mouth and devouring you without a care for anything except the lewd noises you are gracing him with. He doesn’t know where he can touch you, but as he feels your nail sink into his neck, he breaks the kiss and moans your name over and over again, giving you but a moment of respite before lunging for your mouth once again. You’re soaking wet, and you want to warn him so he doesn’t get wet as well, but he doesn’t let up once, moving down your jaw and licking the droplets of water sticking to your skin. His tongue feels hot against your already flushed skin, but you can’t find it in yourself to complain, not when you finally had him in your arms, stealing your breath with such needy kisses. You don’t realize you’re crying until he pulls away abruptly and looks at you with concern.

“No, please…don’t stop. I’m just- I’m so happy.” You try to bring him back again but he’s much stronger than you, keeping some bit of distance between your mouth until he can ask you that burning question.

“Are you sure I’m not hurting you, mesh’la?”

“No, gods no. I never thought you’d reciprocate my feelings Rex, and- and when I remembered the way you looked at me, I…I ran over here.” Your smile grows when you notice the soft smirk gracing his handsome features, and you lean your forehead against his own briefly to relish in the moment.

“I love you, cyare…so damn much. I- I thought I lost you back there…couldn’t, couldn’t believe what you did for me. And then you told me why and I nearly lost my mind all over again.” He lays as many kisses as possible across your entire face, making you sniffle each time he reveals to you what was going through his mind.

“I love you too Rex, have been ever since I joined your legion.” The sentiment manages to put a halt to his words and he looks at you for what you deem is too long before leaning down and taking your lips in between his own again. It’s much less frantic than before, but it is just as deeply felt, and you tilt your head to the side to deepen it further, whining against him when he removes the both of you from the wall and walks back to his bed.

He lays you down softly and continues to leave a trail of kisses down your neck, swearing beneath his breath when you reach for his shirt and try to remove it off of him.

“Rex, what- oh kriff, what does that word mean?” You manage to ask in between each kiss and nip he marks your body with, whispering his name over and over again when he chuckles at you and sits up to remove his shirt. You bite into your lower lip as soon as he reveals his broad chest to you, giggling like a little girl as Rex throws his shirt aside and drags his hand up and down your body.

“Why don’t I show you sweetheart?” The Captain descends down upon you possessively, dragging his hands everywhere with an aggressiveness you’ve never seen him display before. He has you whimpering in the span of a few minutes, and with each bit of fabric he rips from your body, you’re left wishing he would put you out of your misery and claim you.

“Please, Rex.” You beg shamelessly, covering your eyes with your arm when you’re left in nothing but your undergarments.

“Shh, I got you cyar’ika…I got you.” The Captain coos at you as he traces lines up and down your body, passing his fingers in between your thighs teasingly and laughing when he notices goosebumps erupt across your skin. You peak from above your wrist, only to find him studying you closely and with a hunger unseen on his features before.

“S-stop looking at me like that.” You turn your head to the side when he drags your arms away from your face and places them above your head, making you wish he wasn’t enjoying making you flustered.

“Like what?” He’s nearly breathless as he asks you the question, not caring for how wanton he looks as he hovers his lips above your sternum before slowly making his way down your stomach.

“Like…like-” You can’t find the words to tell him what he looks like, mostly because you know he’ll only laugh and reiterate whatever you say in agreement and cause you to feel even more embarrassed at being the subject of his scrutiny.

“Like I want to eat you? Like I want to devour every fucking inch of you? Like I want to mark you with my teeth and hands until the whole kriffing galaxy knows who’s making you feel good? Is that how I’m looking at you sweet girl?” He pronounces each question with a harsh bite to your skin, smiling wickedly at you as he descends between your thighs and shoves them wide open to make room for himself.

“Y-yes…I- oh gods please Rex, just- just…”

“I hate to break it to you ner cyare, but I will never,” he growls his need for you against the edge of your panties, biting down and chuckling when you twitch beneath him and reach for his shoulder, “ever,” his voice is much rougher, and you think that perhaps he will kill you through sheer frustration, “ stop looking at you like that.” You whine his name, and as you try to ask him once more to not be so brazen with you, he shoves his nose into your core and breathes in deeply. It’s absolutely filthy, the manner in which he nudges along the damp material hiding you from him while staring directly into your eyes. You shouldn’t be surprised by how far dilated his pupils are, but as you sink your nails into his muscles, you furrow your eyebrows and will yourself to continue staring at him, wanting to ensure that he wants this just as much as you.

“Rex…please, touch me.” You slide one of your hands up to his cheek, cupping his chiseled jaw beneath your palm out of fear of having him move away.

“I am touching you, mesh’la.” Rex raises a curious eyebrow at you, nuzzling into your hand when he feels you settle down and whine in frustration.

“I need more.” You hope he understands what you’re trying to say, but it seems that Rex wants nothing more than to push you over the edge of irritation, huffing out in laughter once as he leans over and kisses your inner thighs.

“Like this?” He asks, licking the spot he’s kissed before moving to the space just below your hip and nipping it lightly. “Or like this?” He inquires with a whisper, taking the edge of your panties in between his teeth and pulling them up until he makes sure you’re still looking at him before letting go and smirking at the snapping sound that forces you to jolt your hips into his face. He must be able to see the annoyance etched on your features because as soon as you try to sit up on your elbows and give him a piece of your mind, he drags both of his hands beneath your thighs and hoists them up until you’re perfectly laid out for him.

“Rex, if you don’t- ahhh fuck,” you throw your head back as soon as you feel the heat of his mouth engulf your wet core. He’s licking you violently through the flimsy fabric of your panties, and when you manage to look down at him through dazed eyes, Rex shoves the material aside and shoves his tongue violently against your clit. You drag your nails across his scalp before you realize how painful it might be, but when you attempt to grab anything else, Rex shakes his head and sucks on your clit before letting go altogether.

“Don’t fucking stop…mark me baby, mark me so the whole GAR knows who fucks you like the filthy jetii’ika I know you are.” Your eyes widen in shock at his words, amazed that the normally respectful and shy Captain is capable of groaning the filthiest words ever as he goes down on you. You return your hands to his blonde hair, a zap of lightning shooting across your muscles when you feel the buzzed cut tickle your heated skin while he continues to fuck you with his tongue.

“Rex…oh fuck, you- you feel so good. Please don’t stop…don’t stop Captain!” You don’t mean for the honorific to fall so easily from your lips, and you look down to see if it made him uncomfortable, only to find him staring hungrily at you as he pulls you harder on his face.

“Is that what you want, cyar’ika? You want me to be your Captain…give you orders and make you cum on my face before I fuck you till you can’t feel your legs?” You know it’s a rhetorical question because he returns his attention to your engorged clit soon after, laying his tongue flat against your bundle nerves as he drools over the fingers resting just below his mouth. You want to watch him as he worships you, commit to memory the desperation filling every muscle of his body as he shows you how much he craves you, but as soon as he eases two of his fingers past your slit and rubs against your walls, you’re shutting your eyes and arching your back at the sudden flash of pleasure that takes over your whole body.

“Cum for me ner jetii’ika,” the tone of his voice, along with the needy order, are all it takes for you to reach your pleasure, and you dig your nails into his scalp in an attempt to bring him closer to you as you roll your hips back and forth against his mouth. You can’t feel anything except his tongue and his fingers, and you manage to look down through heavy-lidded eyes to watch Rex as he makes you cum. Your body shakes violently when you see his Force signature turn into a bright cloud of red, the shade validating to you the Captain’s feelings as he continues to assault your cunt until you grow oversensitive.

You try to push him off of you but he is relentless in his mission to pleasure you, wrapping his arms around your hips and pushing down your body until you understand that he won’t be letting you go anytime soon. You feel empty all of a sudden, but then you notice his wet fingers as they grab you through your chest bindings and you feel another wave of ecstasy slowly creep up on you.

“R-Rex…I-”

“Drench my face, sir.” You’re not sure what it is that coaxes another orgasm out of you, if it is the way he orders you to cum on his mouth again, or the sound of the honorific falling from his lips as he licks and sucks on your clit. You scream his name like a benediction, the sensation he was bringing upon your fatigued body driving you mad with lust. You can faintly hear him moan your name in return, and it’s only when you look down after he’s let up do you realize that you’ve done exactly what he wanted and drenched his face. You should be embarrassed, but as Rex licks at you softly with a lazy smile, you realize that he may have enjoyed this more than you.

“Oh maker, I- I’ve never…” You try to speak but your voice comes out hoarse, making Rex laugh even harder as he sits up and wipes his face with the back of his hand.

“That was the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen sweetheart…I want you to do it again.” He drags his gaze down your body as he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks on them, the same ones that were showing you stars not a moment ago. He looks positively sinful, and you giggle embarrassingly at him before you try to reach for the tent on his sweatpants.

“No,” he grips your wrist tightly and falls against you, pushing you down into his bed with his whole body before reaching for both of your hands and laying them above your head. You frown at him, unsure why he was denying you the same pleasure he brought upon you.

“Don’t look so upset, mesh’la.” He winks at you as he kisses down your neck and licks the water droplets sticking to your sternum. You sigh heavily and extend your neck out further to give him more access, the action pleasing him more than you thought it would and making him groan deeply into your breasts. “Believe me when I tell you…if you touch me now, this night will end much earlier than I would like it to.” He sucks bruises across your chest, managing to hold both of your wrists with one hand while the other moves to unbind the wrapping around your breasts. It doesn’t take much to reveal you to his eyes, and when you’re finally freed of the offending article of clothing, Rex growls before ascending upon you, not caring for how rough he’s being as he takes a nipple in between his teeth while he rolls his thumb over the other.

“Ah f-fuck…Rex, you- your tongue is- oh kriff, I need you Captain…please. I want to feel you, want you to fuck me, hard.”

“Yeah sweetheart?” Rex soothes the love bites with his tongue, swirling the rough muscle around your hardened peak until your chest rises and falls rapidly. He’s memorizing every inch of your skin, and you notice his smile grow deeper when he sees evidence of his claim beginning to appear all over your body. You always imagined him to be possessive with things he enjoyed, but you never thought once you’d be at the receiving end of such dedication, such admiration.

“Claim me, my dear Captain.” You plead one last time, tilting your head down to try and kiss the top of his head in an attempt to make him lose control. The gesture does the trick, and Rex ascends up your body and takes your lips in between his own, ripping the breath out of your lungs as he sucks and licks into your mouth until you could no longer focus on anything but the sensations he was ringing from your body. You whine and moan for him as he pushes you harder into his sheets, and when you tries to rest his weight on one of his arms, you throw your own around his neck and pull him as flush to you as possible.

“I want to feel you, all of you.” You whisper the request against his cheek, kissing his jaw lightly in anticipation for what comes next. When you sense his hand moving down your body, you nip across his neck and mirror his actions from earlier, distracting him on his journey just as he did with you not a moment ago.

“Fuck sweetheart, you’re going to be the death of me.” Rex groans against your forehead as he struggles to pull the edge of his sweatpants down his hips. It becomes very clear to him soon that you weren’t going to let up on marking his skin, and he sighs in irritation before deciding to pull his cock out from underneath the band of his pants.

“Please Rex,” you urge him with soft pleas and wet kisses, laying your head back to look into his eyes as he pushes aside your panties and rubs your clit with the hard tip of his cock.

“Are you ready for me, cyare?” Rex asks, furrowing his eyebrows in focus so as to not hurt you. You nod frantically at him, widening your legs even further to allow him to settle more comfortably in between your thighs.

“Fuck me, Captain.” You breathe against his quivering lips, sighing in relief when the crown of his dick catches at your wet entrance.

“Yes, sir!” It’s all the warning you get before Rex thrusts his throbbing cock into your cunt, and you watch with fascination as the aura shadowing over the two of you becomes an even deeper shade of red, one that mixed perfectly with his normally blue hue and created a soothing new wave to your eyes.

Neither of you move, looking into the other’s eyes to ensure that this was actually happening.

Rex struggles to breathe, and you massage his neck with your fingers before shifting your hips to get closer to him. The movement sends his cock gliding against your clenching walls, and you both moan the other’s name as you feel pure ecstasy take over your spirits.

“You- you feel…” Rex tries to speak, but he loses focus of the sentence, instead moving all of his attention into committing this moment to memory.

“Perfect.” You finish his thought, leaning up and kissing his lips once before relaxing back into the mattress and silently urging him to move. When he pulls out of you and pushes back in slowly, you realize that you’ll never get enough of this.

Enough of him.

And from the way he was gazing down at you, it seems that the feeling was mutual.

“Rex, just- I want you to cum. I don’t care about me, I only w-want to feel you cum.” You cross your legs behind his back to bring him deeper inside you, the action forcing a cry from his lips that sounds awfully like your name. You giggle beneath him, pride feeling your chest at being the one to bring him to such pleasure.

“I- I’ll be damned if you don’t cum on my cock at least once tonight, mesh’la.” The promise is accompanied with a dangerous glint in his eyes, and you gulp nervously at him, shutting your eyes to relish in the feeling of being so full. Each thrust brings about a fresh wave of arousal to your core, and you dig your nails into his back to show him just how good he’s making you feel. The delicious drag of his cock across your tight walls nearly makes you question whether this was all real, not because you didn’t expect him to feel so perfect inside you, but because he was so much better than your imagination.

His grunts are music to your ears, and you leave a trail of kisses across face the closer he gets to his peak, wanting him to scream your name when he finally cums and claims you. It’s a battle of needs at this point, with your minds telling you to make this last as long as possible but your joined bodies screaming for a sweet release. You can feel every inch of him, every hard vein slide against your fluttering walls the harder he fucks into you.

There is so much on your mind, so much you want to tell him, but you’re not coherent enough to remotely breathe out a string of affirmations to him, so you instead look back into his eyes and hope he can see right through you, recognize every bit of your heart that has always screamed his name since they day you met.

“I- I won’t last much longer, cyar’ika.” He manages to confess as he thrusts become harder, deeper, more intimate. You shake your head and whisper your lack of care for what he just said, wanting him to finally mark you as his own and fill you with his seed. There’s something inherently faithful about wanting him to fuck his cum inside you, a sensation you’re aware would scream your devotion to each other but is against every rule set in place for someone like you…someone like him as well,

But you can’t find it in yourself to care, not when Rex was finally sinking so sweetly into your pussy over and over again until you couldn’t think of anything else but how utterly divine he felt as he joined your bodies with a string of unparalleled pleasure.

“Ner jetii’ika, I- I’m…oh kriff, where do I-”

“Inside me, please!” You cut him off, swallowing his moans as he shakes above you while bringing one of his hands in between your bodies, the sudden touch of his digits against your oversensitive clit making you arch your back into his chest and part your lips for him. He grunts several times while rubbing your hardened bundle of nerves, swirling his tongue around your own when he feels you clench harshly around him. You shudder beneath him, unable to fathom the sensations he was pulling from you so easily, so exquisitely. Just as you break the kiss to breathe, Rex growls your name in between expletives, shoving his cock into you a few times before finally coming undone. Your pleasure lasts for longer than you thought possible, the feeling of his seed painting your walls and oozing out of you somehow making you feel even more attuned to his pleasure, as if his ecstasy was connected to your own and refused to part from it. He bucks his hips into you with shallow thrusts, resting his forehead against your chest as he slowly comes down from the brief high.

You’re both too dazed to move a single muscle, and when you try to unwrap your legs from around him, Rex hisses in surprise at feeling your pussy flutter around him one last time. He finally sits up to look at you, and you watch as the smirk on his face grows with each bit of skin he sees adorned with his touch.

“So…all of that means ‘mesh’la’?” You break the silence and laugh along with him when he finally catches on to what you’re referring to, only to hiss in discomfort when he pulls out of you and leaves you empty. You watch as Rex reluctantly sits up and shoves your thighs apart to look at the mess he’s made of you. You want to shake your head at him, call him disgusting for being so obvious with what he’s done to you, but when you find him biting his lips and staring at you with newfound lust, you realize that teasing him may not be the best idea now.

“Fuck cyare, you look beautiful.” You giggle as you hide behind your arms once more, making Rex tease you about your shy bedside manner when he was literally fucking you into kingdom come not a moment ago. He gets up and walks to the refresher, quickly coming back to you to clean you up so you don’t have to move much. You can’t help but look at him with adoration as he rubs every inch of your skin. He’s careful and patient with you, taking his time to caress your skin before throwing the towel aside and reaching for one of his shirts to hand you.

“Why give me a shirt when you know you’ll take it off of me in another hour?” You ask him teasingly, laughing hysterically when he throws it aside and shoves his sweatpants down his thighs.

Your eyes shift to his cock instantly, and you marvel at how thick and long he is…and the fact that he was already starting to get hard again.

“To even the field,” he winks at you as he slips beneath the covers and pulls you into his side, wrapping his arm around you before dimming down the lights.

You sit in silence for what feels like hours, drawing patterns on his beautiful, bronze chest while he rubs your shoulder and back to soothe your body. It’s only after a while that Rex finally breaks the quiet air of the room and looks down at you, waiting until you meet his eyes before he finally tells you what he’s wanted to say for so long.

“I would rather die than let anything happen to you, ner cyare. You know that right?” He says, matter-of-factly, and you sense a sliver of anxiety fill his otherwise calm aura for a brief moment before it evaporates into thin air.

“I know darling, and you know by now that the feeling is mutual.” It’s not what he wants to hear, that you are sure of, but you can’t find it in yourself to lie to him, wanting him to know that you care for him just as much as he cares for you.

“I guess both of us are going to be stubborn about this.” He shakes his head and leans over to kiss your forehead before resting back against the pillow once more.

“You bet your sweet ass.” You retort immediately, yelping in shock when he pinches your shoulder and sends you closer into his chest.

“You haven’t even seen my ass, sweetheart.” He snorts at your comeback, glancing down at you for a moment before shutting his eyes and enjoying the feeling of having you so willing and relaxed in his arms.

“Oh, believe me Captain, I have seen your ass…and I fucking love it.”

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