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withthewindinherfootsteps · 1 month ago
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Wei Wuxian and Narrative Agency – Part Three
For Xiantober Day Five: Past and Present, in which the author gets very unhinged about what parts of the past are shown and how that’s affected by the present!
(Part One | Part Two | Full version on AO3)
The Power of Agency: Shaping the Narrative
When I've discussed Wei Wuxian's agency previously, I’ve talked about how what’s shown and omitted tells us about a character, and we’ve talked about the character himself. Though this is a niche topic, it’s not necessarily something out of the ordinary to analyse, and we can assume everything up to here has been in some way intentional.
This? Linking structure to a character’s in-universe preferences?
This is where we get unhinged.
Before I start, let’s quickly establish something which will be important later: although Wei Wuxian is the central character, MDZS isn’t strictly from his POV. While omitting events a character doesn’t like to dwell on and concealing things the character wishes to hide is common in books with only one narrator, MDZS has multiple narrators which it switches between relatively quickly. This includes Wei Wuxian, but it also includes nearly every major character that appears in the story, and omniscient narrator as well. As a default, this format doesn’t lead to this deliberate shaping and omission because of one character’s preferences, since we have many other sources of information and events – which is what makes Wei Wuxian’s influence over the narrative and structure so interesting. We could have access to a lot more information, and access to it at different times, than we do (and that’s not an insult, quite the opposite!).
To begin: we’ve established that times such as Wei Wuxian’s time on the streets, his three months in the Burial Mounds and his loss in the Siege aren’t shown because Wei Wuxian has little agency there. But that’s not the only special thing about them. They’re also the three most traumatic times in his life, and so moments Wei Wuxian himself either can’t remember, or doesn’t like to dwell on.
This is why discussing Wei Wuxian’s treatment of tragedy in his life was important. Firstly, it shows he doesn’t focus on the tragedy in his life, so the idea that the narrative not focusing on this tragedy relates to his character has merit; secondly, it affirms that this is not a passive trait, but a choice. Therefore, when the narrative omits events due to this aspect of Wei Wuxian, it’s respecting not only a character detail – which would be cool by itself – but also an active decision. One that shapes the story it’s made in.
In other words, its very structure is respecting Wei Wuxian’s agency!
Now, of course there are flashbacks to other moments of his past he probably wouldn’t like to dwell on, too. But within the structure, they’re only shown when Wei Wuxian is thinking about them (or when he has reason to)!
Wei WuXian hadn’t woken up yet. His eyes were still tightly shut, yet his hand didn’t let go either. He seemed to be dreaming, muttering, “… Don’t… Don’t be angry…” Lan WangJi seemed somewhat surprised. His voice was gentle, “I am not angry.” Wei WuXian, “… Oh.” Hearing this, as though he finally felt assured, his fingers loosened. Lan WangJi sat beside Wei WuXian for a while. Seeing that he was motionless again, he was about to stand up when Wei WuXian grabbed him with his other hand, hugging his arm and refusing to let go. He shouted, “I’ll go with you, quick, take me back to your sect!” Chapter 63, EXR translation
Which, of course, is him dwelling on…
Lan WangJi spoke one word at a time, “Go back to Gusu with me.” Hearing this, both Wei WuXian and Jiang Cheng were surprised. Quickly afterward, Wei WuXian laughed, “Go back to Gusu with you? To the Cloud Recesses? Why go there?” He immediately seemed to realize, “Oh. I forgot. Your uncle Lan QiRen hates crooked people like me. You’re his proudest disciple, so of course you’re the same as him, haha. I refuse.” Chapter 62, EXR translation
…the painful flashback immediately preceding this. The third set of flashbacks (which are also painful) are a similar case. Look at the contex:
He lifted the bottom of his robe, revealing a prosthetic leg made of wood, “This leg of mine was destroyed by you, that night in the Nightless City (…)” (…) “Wei WuXian, I won’t ask you if you remember or not. Both of my parents died by your hands. You owe too many people. You definitely won’t remember them either. But, I, Fang MengChen, will never forget! And never forgive you!” (…) “In the fight at Qiongqi Path, my son was strangled to death by your dog Wen Ning!” “My shixiong died by poison, his entire body festering due to your cruel curse!” Chapter 68 (immediately preceding the flashbacks), EXR translation
And Wei Wuxian’s own thoughts and words:
Wei WuXian looked at the cultivators before the Demon-Slaughtering Cave. Their expressions were the absolute same as those of the cultivators from the night of the pledge conference, pouring their wine on the ground as they took the pledge to scatter the ashes of the Wen Sect’s remnants and him.  (…) Wei WuXian, “Now it’s time to ask just whom it is that treasures it so much. It’s like Wen Ning. Back then, some certain sects or so were scared to death of the Ghost General. They said they’d kill him on the surface, but behind their backs they hid him for over ten years. How strange. Who was the one that said his ashes had been scattered back then?” Chapter 79 (immediately succeeding the flashbacks), EXR translation 
Once again, Wei Wuxian’s own thoughts relate to the flashbacks we’ve just been shown. And, as I previously mentioned, though all the events which are shown are tragic, they’re also events which Wei Wuxian’s own choices and actions shaped – which he has this to say about:
“The things I did, not only do you remember them, I remember them too. You won’t forget them, and they’ll stay even longer in my mind!” Chapter 82, EXR
Admittedly, this applies more to the third set of flashbacks than the second (which is still fitting as the third set was the most recent), as in the second, although he still had agency within and influence over his circumstances, the majority of the pain was caused by others’ actions (excluding, of course, the Golden Core transfer… which is something we know stays for a long time in his mind, albeit with a caveat we’ll soon discuss). But it’s still important to note – especially considering that otherwise, focusing on this very painful time in his life wouldn’t seem like something very in-character for Wei Wuxian to do.
Of course, this can all just be explained by good writing. It is best to insert flashbacks when they’re relevant to the characters and events in the present day! But it is interesting to compare these to the start of the (not painful) Gusu flashbacks, which open this way:
At a later time, Wei WuXian pondered upon the reason why his relationship with Lan WangJi wasn’t good. Getting to the root of the matter, everything started when he was fifteen, coming to the GusuLan Sect with Jiang Cheng to study for three months. Chapter 13, EXR
Again, considering the circumstances around which these flashbacks take place – returning to the Cloud Recesses for the first time since the lectures, and meeting Lan Wangji once more – it makes complete sense for Wei Wuxian to be thinking about these events*. So it does fit the pattern of Wei Wuxian dwelling on something, thus leading to the narrative dwelling on it, too (and being shaped by his thoughts)… but there’s another layer to this. Importantly, it is the only flashback where Wei Wuxian’s present thoughts don’t lead to this happening, with his thoughts at an unspecified future time leading to it, instead. I like to interpret this as the text saying that, since these events aren’t something Wei Wuxian wouldn’t focus on in normal circumstances, he can dwell on them at any time. Therefore, they’re free to come up in the narrative at any time as well, even if he’s not dwelling on them in the present moment!
So, to summarise: Wei Wuxian’s decision not to focus on the painful times in his life directly influences the narrative to not focus on these times. When painful times are brought up and shown to us, it’s in the context of him thinking about them in the present day, and even then, his most painful moments still aren’t shown to us. His agency in this regard is still respected by the narrative structure.
This is the main way his agency influences the structure of the narrative, but I’d like to talk about the revealing and concealing of information, too. For example, I said I’d talk about the Golden Core transfer – though Wei Wuxian does think about this many times, as evidenced by his internal narration in Chapter 103. But unlike everything we’re shown through the flashbacks, this is something Wei Wuxian is actively trying to hide from others. And the narrative respects this choice (Wei Wuxian’s agency, again), never reveals it even when it would be relevant in the flashbacks, and we find out not through narration, but through a character’s dialogue!
And to clarify – I know these aspects may not be in the book for this exact reason. Showing flashbacks in relevant moments is good writing, concealing an important plot point you want to do a reveal for is necessary writing, and MXTX has said she didn’t want to write about Wei Wuxian’s time in the Burial Mounds, due to not liking to write transformation sequences (and also because it would not be pleasant at all, which likely also applies to Wei Wuxian’s death). That doesn’t prevent it from also being intentional – MXTX’s intelligence is shown in many aspects of this book, and there’s nothing disproving it – but there’s no proof for either option, so I won’t pretend there is. I bring this up because I know this feels like I’m overanalysing, as I feel that way as well.
But, whether it’s intentional or not, it exists in the text, and I adore it – so, regardless, it’s something I’ll explore. Because taking this into account… We aren't just told about Wei Wuxian having agency, we aren’t just shown it in the text, we aren’t even just shown it through which parts of his past are shown and hidden in the structure of the text (as I talked about in Part One). The parts of the past that are shown and hidden also have an in-universe reason for being shown and hidden, this reason being the choices he makes! Agency is the ability of a character to influence the story they’re in, but Wei Wuxian’s agency, as a property of a character who only exists in-universe, shapes the out-of-universe structure as well! That’s how we’re shown its importance! How cool is that?
At The End Of The Road: Summary and Final Thoughts
In this essay, we’ve covered how important Wei Wuxian’s agency is not only to the events of the plot, but to the structure of the narrative as well. The narrative omits periods in which Wei Wuxian has little or no agency, in favour of showing us periods in which he does, even when important events happened in the former. This indicates that who Wei Wuxian is without agency isn’t important enough to be shown to the audience, and therefore that his agency is an integral aspect of his character in MDZS. We’ve discussed how both in-universe and out-of-universe, tragedy does not define him – out-of-universe, the tragic events in Wei Wuxian’s life are used not to build sympathy but rather to show his strength of character and who he still is despite going through them; and in-universe, he chooses not to focus on the negativity and resentment caused by his circumstances or others’ actions, instead staying true to his moral compass and enjoying his life in the present day. Finally, we’ve also explored how this choice is another reason for the omission of certain events from the narrative, resulting in his agency shaping the story in a very literal way – it affects the out-of-universe structure, as well.
It’s quite fitting, for a story whose essence is about defying a conventional narrative – that of righteous clans rising up and defeating a great evil – and about a character who defies many conventional narratives on his own – that of status defining how skilled you could be, that for a golden core being necessary for cultivation and other paths being unavailable, that of a tragic but complete story of someone killed for staying true to their moral code (instead, that character returns to life and has a happy ending) – to have its own narrative play a role in such an important and interesting way.
(Or, if an image would be preferable:)
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Thank you for reading!
(Part One | Part Two | Full version on AO3)
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*This strong relation to the present day circumstances is another reason I love the flashback placement so much (and why I think it’s such a loss both screen adaptions altered it so strongly)! 
#get ready for tag thoughts because there are a LOT of them#it’s for THIS reason that fanon wwx bothers me so much (didn’t want to get negative on the acual post)#bc so often all the changes are changes that woobify him!#self-sacrificial idiot wwx?? only doing things because… poor him he has so many internal issues and values himself so little-#-so of course he’d sacrifice everything before thinking of another option? woobifying#(whenever he sacrifices something it’s a deliberate choice to act on his morals because he values his morals so much – and he’s also very-#-capable and DOES often find ways for no people to get hurt!)#wasn’t aware that what happened to him at lotus pier was wrong and needs lwj to tell him that for him to have any idea if it?#woobifying (as we see in the lotus seed pod extra he KNOWS it’s unfair)#(he downplays it retroactively in his memory (links into not focusing on the bad things in his life))#(but that’s the actions themselves that are being downplayed not their fairness!)#he chooses to act! he is defined by acting! not tragedy – all the more impressive in the face of the amount of tragedy that’s happened#he could SO EASILY have been a woobie but instead he’s the opposite of one: defined BY his agency instead of the absence of it#that doesn’t mean he’s not impacted by tragedy or trauma – he is! but it’s not the most important aspect of his character (bc he doesn’t le#it’s also something that bothers me about the changes cql made#by making qq path and nightless city the fault of someone else it means he IS someone who’s more a victim of circumstance than anything els#he had no control over the tragedies of his first life at all#apart from ig his death being controlled by him? because he just leaps off the cliff during the nightless city siege?? but in THAT case it’#i watched that part recently (i’m getting through it very slowly) and yeah it reaffirmed my love for this aspect of the book even more#despite. having these exact thoughts for two years already#he also dwells on the past events a lot more than book wwx which adds to that version of him BEING defined more by tragedy rather than who#anyway over 7.3k words total (and 400 more in the tags apparently)... it'll be posted to ao3 in its completion this evening!#mdzs meta#my meta#wei wuxian#mdzs#mo dao zu shi#魔道祖师#grandmaster of demonic cultivation#gdc
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svtskneecaps · 6 months ago
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you know what i'll say it MIKE AND ROIER ARE THE ONLY ONES I RESPECT these fuckers will rock up and say FUCK english all my homies HATE english they are the only ones i trust and respect these fuckers are like you will hear me speak my language and you will LEARN IT OR DIE and i respect the HELL OUT OF IT dude THANK YOU FOR BEING ENGLISH HATERS brothers THANK YOU FOR NOT SPEAKING ONLY ENGLISH WHEN AMONG ANYONE NOT OF YOUR LANGUAGE GROUP!!!!!!!!
#qsmp#if there are others who also refuse to speak english that i didn't notice i will add them#this excludes the koreans bc they aren't strong in english so it's only half an option for them#(allegedly aren't strong i didn't see them around long enough to come to any real conclusions but i'm told they aren't strong in it)#and also hugo bc he didn't have much time on the server and some people who start out relying on the translations#will swap over to using their english however strong that might be idk his relative strength either bc like korea he wasn't online long 😔#which i also respect because i'm glad they get to practice their nonnative tongue that's cool#but the first multilingual smp with live translation becoming the 'english in a group' server gives me fits#anyway for legal reasons much of this post is hyperbole and exaggeration#but i do love how mike and roier can be consistently relied on to just Not Speak English#block game brainrot#shut up vic#bonus shoutout to foolish who often insists spanish speakers only speak spanish to him#and tries to only speak spanish in return. he's not got broad vocab just yet but for only learning via this and duolingo he's doing amazing#and i have a lot of respect for him for it#(yes i respect everyone for reasons but this post is about the ones who can and do speak Not English on purpose)#(regrettably people like bbh and phil don't count although i still respect their efforts)#ANYWAY SLASH END TAG RANT THIS POST KNOWS WHAT IT'S ABOUT DON'T FIGHT ME
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toytulini · 6 months ago
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i made an oc thats at least nicknamed "Stupid" and im constantly thinking about what a power move that is tbh
#toy txt post#i miss it i should play w her more often but it was going to be for a dnd thing that ive all but abandonded bc i feel like#i cant. do that but it sucks bc i had some cool fun concepts and characters but it was hard enough back then when i was just insecure and#knew nothing about dnd and was intimidated by the mechanics but wanted to try dming for some reason but now i just straight up dont know#what to do but i really enjoy those characters. i should just unlock the secret channelsand scrap the dnd game idea for now and keep the#concepts and im sure i could come up w something if i ever actually learned anything about that shit#anyway. my point being. im obsessed w my character i made up and you should be too cos its good shit#toxic anarchist half dragon demigod with authority issues whos an alloaro clown named Stupid Cupid.#i think her pronouns were whatever but also it/she? when i say toxic i mean it did have a bit of a Clown Cult.#Cupid i think is possibly its given name and Stupid was her clown ass addition and yes i do know of the song and yes it is on its playlist#obsessed w all the stupid overpowered characters i made in that universe. they were such good concepts. gulliver obviously. charybdis#silas (cupids father + previous (now deceased) god of chaos)#cupids mother who i dont think i had a name for yet but she was supposed to be kind of a neutral lawful (in a rules lawyering way)#moon paladin who hatefucked the god of chaos after failing to kill him which she was trying to do out of devotion to the moon#and she supposed to have what i can only describe as chainsaw powers? and she destroyed every gun in existence and killed anyone who knew#how to make them until there were no guns left bc silas kept being annoying w guns and was trying to use them on the moon. for reasons#so she really pissed him off and impressed him before she finally got to him and tried to kill him. and if she was even a minor god instead#of a 'mortal' it wouldve worked and thats the only reason he didnt die from her. and then her child. stupid cupid the clown#grew up and had issues and started a clown cult and wandered around usurping warlords and dictators before putting her aim on silas#and trying to kill him. but failing not bc she was mortal but bc he outsmarted it. but he couldbt bring himself to kill it so he had her#put to sleep for a thousand yrs until someone else killed him(he pissed off a stupid seagull druid who lured him into the path of Charybdis#who he'd ALSO pissed off and Charybdis mega killed him and then the gull druid was made the new god of chaos just to have someone fill the#roll but then they kind of suck at it? they did not want that much responsibility altho the immortality is nice. when they took over they#released cupid whos a bit of a legend but then the vibes are super weird bc cupid Definitely wants to usurp and take on the mantle of#chaos deity and gulliver idolizes her but doesnt feel great about just handing that over to it? and cupid has to grapple with not being the#one to kill silas. almost everyone she knew is dead. her mom isnt. the world has changed a lot. she finds out her cult is still going and#gets excited? but they have Changed. it disgusts her now. they are not the radical clowns she intended. the vibes are weird. she denounces#that and tries out piracy. she manages to get the moon paladin living chainsaw power?#despite not being aligned w their ideology at all. wow nepotism. then it was going to spiral into some fucking meta galactic shit and have#well. ran out of tags. anyway i miss this character i should figure out what im doing w this universe cos theres no way im dming rn 🙃
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singukieee · 5 months ago
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—my all time favourite bts fics (pt. 1) ᯓᡣ𐭩
consists of my personal favourite bts fics that I've read countless of times. including those from other platforms, such as Wattpad, AO3, and Patreon.
For some works that are cross-posted between tumblr and wp/ao3, I'd only link them to the latters bcs I find it easier to read and navigate the stories on those. but I also tagged all the authors I know are here and linked the rest so you can check their blogs out yourself!
I'll also separate this list into several parts simply because there's too many... So it'd be easier for you guys to navigate!
red means unfinished
blue means finished
🗯️ editor's note
(sorted by alphabetical order)
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A Place Called Home by @agustdakasuga
Having saved your own injured hybrid, you were determined to try and help any other hybrid that crossed your path who needed saving. But being a vet in a small hospital wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to do more, you wanted to make a difference. You wanted to give them a home.
Accidental Friends by Erakun06
Meet Bangtan, international superstars, the pride of South Korea, the love and hope in the dark of many lives, the role model and celebrity crush of so many people, and a group of people you often stumble across in your day to day life. You become acquaintances, slowly become friends, and- that's it. You are in a platonic friendship with Bangtan. Let me say it again. clears throat PLATONIC. Or One day, you meet a member of Bangtan, the next day, another, and another, and another, and one day, they become a group of people you often stumble across in your life. They become your acquaintances. Then your friends. Then your source of comfort, just like they are the source of comfort of millions of people in the world. What you didn't expect is that you become the same to them. It's inevitable. You are friends.
🗯️ a theme that I don't find much of, and this one was excecuted quite neatly I'd say
Ace For Hire by tokki-maknae
Who is Ace? Besides being the deadliest hitman on the market in the underground, whose really under the hood? The answers simple, well for you at least, because you are Ace. When you're not busy blurring yourself into the background noises of school, you were making a killing in the underground, both literally and figuratively. For years now Ace has become an infamous name among the other gangs and holds the reputation of being lethal and untouchable. But that all changes after a slip up that causes you to attract the unwanted attention of one persistent seven member gang. A gang that's been dying to know, who is Ace?
🗯️ badassss
At Your Service by @untaemedqueen
In which Yn is looking for an escort to accompany her to her nightmare ex and ex best friend's wedding, only to ended up falling in love with him.
Baby (you complete us) by @purpleyoonn
Soulmates were a common occurrence, so common, in fact, that the world sought an easier way to find your other half: A bracelet that would scan your mark and match you with those who shared your mark. Within recent years, soul groups were becoming normal, and your own bracelet said you have seven matches. Or where you wear your bracelet for ten years, and finally give up the hope you would find your soul group, only for BTS to put theirs on and see what they were missing.
Back Home by AlexLorchan / @alexlwrites
Secretly, he was selfishly hoping that you didn’t age well. Dealing with a small crush was easy enough when he was young and knew next to nothing about girls, when you were just a cute albeit slightly weird girl he had a soft spot for. But he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if his feelings came back with a vengeance while you were living together. God, he would probably lock himself with Jungkook until you went away. OR The one where, after living abroad for years, you move back to Korea and your old high school friend Namjoon offers you his place to stay while you get settled, casually forgetting to mention that: a) he still had a massive crush on you. b) he lived with six other guys.
🗯️ crack fic! my fave category and this one makes me giggle in both funny way and butterfly-in-my-stomach kinda way
Beauty of Love by @imnotlauriane
When you cross eyes with your soulmate, you get flashes of memories that have yet to happen. You can't see the same memory as the other and it can be either good or bad. It's not always terrible, but a thing is for sure. No matter what you do, it will happen. But are things always what they seem to be?
Between The Bloodshed series by @agustdakasuga
🗯️ this series... I just love. plot is super neat, relationship doesn't feel forced, etc etc
❶ Between The Bloodshed
Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of him through his recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that you would have to leave your life behind and build a new one.
❷ Everything Between Us
They left you hanging, they broke your heart. You didn’t get your happily ever after. But now they’re back and they’re searching for you to make things right. Could you look past the betrayal to take them back into your life and back into your heart?
Beyond The Stage by Alysheart
Alexis was going through the days simply. She was a college student in Florida, working towards her degree. When she scored tickets to the BTS concert in Korea, she didn't hesitate. She never expected to be soulmates with the seven idols.
Bound by Blood by PurpleQueenie
In a world where vampires and humans have to co-exist, where the line between tolerance and animosity blurs, how can you ever expect to get your happily ever after when your soulmates hate your very existence?
🗯️ love all the details, the slow burn, gosh just so good
Boyfriend For Hire by @remedyx
Unsatisfied with your life was an understatement. Being under the thumb of your father can have that effect. He wanted someone capable of running the company, but you wanted to pursue your passion. Countless unwanted blind dates and the threat of losing your freedom drives you to seek help from a group of individuals you'd least expected.
Breakthrough by Alphathyx
"My dreams haunt me like past memories that never existed" The Memory Dive, an invention that allows the user to dive into anyone's memories just from the collection of their DNA. Made by Professor Kim Seokjin, he created this device for the worlds secret service to solve mysteries that the ordinary field agents are unable to. With seven agents, ranging from ex military, to a university professor, college student and even a criminal, only these seven are able to use this machine to extract memories of others. They are also the only people that know how to escape it. Discover through their eyes of uncovering the darkest truths of the world, through the minds of victims.
🗯️ this one's super neat plot with complicated and technical world, just so good
Bright Colors and Loud Soulmates by Mostmouse
You resented soulmates, the whole damn concept. It just wasn't your thing, and you couldn't help but feel jealous of those who were born without soulmates, who could see the world as it was intended to be from birth. When you run into your soulmate, you're determined to stay in your own sphere of the world. Focusing on you. But, because nothing is simple in your life, it turns out he's one of seven - better yet, your seven soulmates are the globally famous band BTS. Because why wouldn't they be? OR you learn how to let your soulmates past your carefully crafted walls, and they’re more than happy to show you what a loving and supportive relationship should look like.
🗯️ a funny and cute one! (with extra h0rny characters lol)
BTS Office CEO AU by @jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue
You work for seven CEOs who have called you into their office due to a complaint
Can't Wait To See You Again by AlexLorchan / @alexlwrites
The one where Jungkook develops a huge crush on a Youtuber he found after falling into the rabbit hole of his recommended videos. Unbeknownst to him, you were also recommended to his hyungs. Unbeknownst to you, all across the world seven idols were slowly falling in love with you.
🗯️ I just love the concept of the boys being fanboys :3
Choco Bun by @nunchiimagines
When you moved to Korea after finishing college to continue pursuing latte art and baking, the last thing you were expecting was to open up your very own coffee shop under BTS Corp, Korea’s biggest entertainment service company for idols, models, singers, and more. Thanks to your hard work, creativity, and approachable personality you managed to become friendly with some pretty big named individuals as well as up and coming talent. As exciting and fun as it was for you, you slowly began to realize how much your 7 bosses weren’t particularly fond of this, acts of jealousy, pettiness, and aggression poking through in the most unsuspecting of ways. But what could 7 big named dragons want with a little foreign bunny?
Combined Beings by @numinousher
You are bullied on a constant because korea’s beauty standards do not fit girls on the heavier side. the bullying gets worse once a ceo is attracted to you and he mentioned you to the other 6.
🗯️ minus the bullying elements, this story is like a comforting sweet cloud
Comfort by http-lostforever
Hybrids have been introduced into society for a handful of years now, the fighting for their rights is still happening but doesn't look promising. But when one girl finds a hybrid in danger she jumps at the chance to help, yet what she didn't know was how upside down her life was about to become. But a word of advice, not everything is as it seems.
Could We Be Together Someday? series by BTS_Mommy / @babyboy-bangtan
🗯️ mann Idk what to write lol. this is another one that I've re-read thousand times, bcs some of the boys started as fanboys then became clingy friends. also yn's so supportive I just lovee.
❶ By Chance
A misunderstanding gone viral puts you on BTS's radar, which leads to a series of events that finally culminate with you meeting them for the first time.
❷ The Moments in Between
As you become close friends with BTS, you begin to realize that the feelings you have for them are slowly turning into something you're not ready to deal with. Unbeknownst to you, the same is happening to them.
Crave by sweetinsanityy
The boys don't do well with being controlled, but for their group, they'll bite their tongue and put on a smile for management. Yet when you, a new little rookie, stumble upon them, they're like a pack of hungry wolves. Or, the boys are all Doms and they want you to be their perfect little sub.
Cursed Fate by PurpleQueenie
The universe has designed soulmates- someone that completes you. But what happens when you don't have one but seven? And all you want to do is run in the opposite direction when you see them...
🗯️ queenie's stories are just so good, you should check them all out! this one also has such great details and writing.
Deep Down by sleepingbearandbunny
Jae, unlike everyone else, has nothing against the hybrid species. She likes being alone, where she is safe from ridicule and her controlling father. When a group of hybrids save her from some trouble, fate brings them together once more.
🗯️ a harsh and complecated world this one, so they went through a lot together and I love that!
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PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | NAVI
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earth4angels · 4 months ago
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𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫
modern!jacaerys x f!reader
── semi angst? jacaerys is super in love, gets teased about it! one sided?? has an open ending, open for interpretation, not edited.
summary: over the course of an year, he watches her from afar, admiring the small details, falling in love with a stranger that does not know he exists. and as the final year of school almost at its end, he questions whether he wasted time or if it’s the perfect time to recover lost time.
a/n: short drabble and very rushed bc i just needed to post this before my idea died, and it’s a little sad with some fluff sorry jace nation, listen to beautiful stranger by laufey
jace tag list: @jacaerysgf @star611 @jules420 @gracexthoughts @astrxq @reyndaisy @hxtd @smurfelle @nanaldy @valdezthg @littleblackcatinwonderland @nixtape-foryou @starrgurl46 @ethereal-athalia @stelleduarte @canyonmoon-2 @ambrosia-v-black @ilovequeen978 @melsunshine
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The wind blew through his face hard enough for his long trences of hair to fall into his mouth and his eyes. He sighed irritably, his hands pushing his hair back while he took the strands that ended in his mouth away.
He checked his watch, biting his lip when he realized he was running late to school - his mother would surely kill him if she found out. He always rejected their personal driver to take him to school as he did not like bragging about his status so he relied on public transportation to blend in with his classmates.
He never whined about it either, he loved the scenery, but most especially he loved to watch you.
You were beautiful, your hair always styled in bows, clips, your ears were always covered by your headphones blocking the noise of the outside as he would always see you reading. He studied every single detail of yours, the slight crinkle of your eyes when you read something interesting, the way you constantly licked your lips as your eyes darted through the pages of your book. He saw you always with pens as you highlighted or wrote in your journal pieces he would figure grabbed your attention.
Jacaerys admired you from afar, and often found himself dreaming about you when the day ended.
“I don’t know why you haven’t talked to her. You’re Jacaerys Velaryon, heir of your family’s business after your mother Rhaenyra Targaryen,” Cregan nudged him as the said heir only shook his head, his curls bouncing, he looked away to the window to watch you cross the street, your long hair blowing delicately against the wind.
“It’s not like it matters, school ends in two weeks. We will all graduate, and I will be moving miles away to attend law school. It wouldn’t work,” Jace muttered, his hands rubbing against each other, a nervous tic of his.
Cregan groaned childishly, “You depress me Velaryon. The gods made you with such looks you could pull anyone and you’re wasting it on a complete stranger? Someone you haven’t even made moves on for an entire year?!”
Jace glared at him before muttering again, “A year and a half… actually.”
“Seven hells mate. You have gone absolutely mad,” Cregan shook his head in disbelief, rolling his eyes at his idiotic lovesick best friend who hung his head.
Jacaerys did want to speak to you, maybe he could’ve asked what book you read or make a random question about what train stop took him to the academy. He didn’t know, but maybe he just could’ve just said something to get you to look at him. Time was clicking and he didn’t know how much longer he should wait.
He saw you enter the train again, this time a fluffy hat sat on your head, your cheeks a rosy pink from the wind outside, in your hands held a book. He smiled knowing you were going to spend another ride with your nose deep in the pages. You were so delicate with every move you made, and he felt like you lit the entire room with your presence.
He already knew your routine for how much he had seen you, but this time it was different. You turned your head looking around finding him sitting by the window, your eyes met his fiery brown ones. It was then he felt like he was going to faint, his heart beating rapidly - you smiled.
You smiled and he felt like the world vanished, leaving him breathless. It was only you, a ray of light caressing your shoulders illuminating you like a goddess. It was his chance… this was the chance he could’ve said anything. Yet he did something so idiotic that he went home that day slamming his head into the pillow cursing himself for being so stupid.
He looked away, his cheeks turning red. He did not smile or said anything but rather fixated on the blurs of the streets that passed by.
As the last week of school came, and his friends teased him about a crush on the beautiful stranger he was infuriated with - he found himself sitting the train ride again.
The familiar stop came, and he listened to the doors slide open, his hands shaking from the nervousness. The seat next to him suddenly became occupied, he did not look thinking it was a stranger that sat next to him.
A soft chuckle was heard and it made his heart flutter crazily, he peeked beside him slowly finding the beautiful stranger next to him.
You smiled at him, for you were waiting for him to speak first.
You did notice him a lot, and you knew about him, the famous Jacaerys Velaryon, first born son of the famous businesswoman Rhaenyra Targaryen.
You saw him in every train ride, but you also saw him on campus, laughing with his friends, often throwing a football as he played during lunch breaks. He was popular, maybe for his name or his money, but he walked around campus with such grace - his aura leaving many boys with envy and girls wanting him.
Your smile never left your lips as he stared at you in disbelief that you actually sat next to him.
From up close, you were much more beautiful, your scent overwhelming him as you smelled like he thought you would, a mix of floral and vanilla, you smelled like home.
Graduation was two days away. And he was set to leave the week after to start summer camp.
Perhaps, it was too late to start anything but his chance came to finally hear your voice, to at least know your name, the girl, the beautiful stranger that made his dreams sweet and made him smile when he sat to think of you.
Jace finally smiled back, and his soft voice made your insides warm, “Hello.”
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kisseobie · 7 months ago
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Hello🫣🫣 may I request p1harmony reaction to you wearing something short/revealing when going out clubbing? Thank youuu☺️☺️
p1harmony reacting to you wearing revealing clothes
pairings: ot6 p1harmony x reader
warnings: suggestive
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tags: established relationships, clingy piwon, the boys are.. boys, clubbing, drinking (aged up for seobsoul), non idol au
a/n: it’s funny bc i was JUST reading an exact post like this a few minutes ago so anon if u were the same person who sent @ntoniac a request for the same thing i hope i can do it justice bc hers had me giggling and kicking my feet .. ANYWAYS! once again i apologize for slow updates i unfortunately am a student amidst a depressive episode soooooo it takes me a bit longer to write :( i hope u all can understand
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𖧷 keeho
is honestly so cheesed. the type to insist to take pictures of you on his phone before you two actually make your way out, already mentally planning out which photo he’s gonna use in his next photo dump. is always super grabby with his hands, but its somehow amplified tonight. constantly has his arm lazily perched on your shoulder, and he often whispers cute little compliments into your ear every now and then. doesn’t really mind when people approach you to talk to you, doesn’t even necessarily care when said people make quick glances at your cleavage and the short length of your skirt. you two have an immense level of trust in your relationship, so he’s not one to feel insecure when people admire his girl. i can see kyo as the type to drag you onto the dance floor too, just so he can spin you around and feel your ass rub against the frontside of his jeans. eventually does end up posting those photos he took of you earlier on instagram, but not without captioning it something like “that’s all me”
𖧷 theo
doesn’t care about how short and tight your mini dress is, just wants it off of you by the end of the night. when you first skipped into the living room, beaming as you showed off your outfit of choice to him, theo had to hold himself back from kissing you silly. just like keeho, the simple concept of his girlfriend wearing a revealing outfit doesn’t make him super possessive, but he does make himself known to onlookers as your boyfriend in other ways, whether that be holding your drink and purse for you without you even asking him to, or sneaking up behind you to pepper kisses along your neck when your in the middle of conversation with someone. he makes his presence known but also wants to ensure that you have a carefree, enjoyable night without feeling like you have to tend to your boyfriend the entire time. taeyang definitely does admire your cleavage when he gets the chance too though, shamelessly stares at your chest and just giggles in reply when you scold him for doing so… loves to flirt with you even more than he usually does tbh
𖧷 jiung
is the overly possessive boyfriend that will whine and beg you to change. in reality, he doesn’t actually expect you to change your outfit, but lets you know (whilst pouting) that although you look hot and he wants to devour you, he also is very nervous about the unwanted attention you might get. it’s not a bad thing really! jiung just wants to be the only man that gets to see you in such a tiny top. although he might complain at first, you don’t miss the obvious blush on his face, silently signaling to you that he secretly loves when you dress this way. he’s not a very touchy person, but that doesn’t mean that he won’t interlock your fingers the entire night, even giving your hand gentle squeezes when you give someone else a little too much attention for his liking. glares at anyone who might whistle at you or even just look in your general vicinity for a bit too long. quickly shuts down offers himself from other guys that have the balls to ask you to dance. yeah, your not being let out of his sight looking that good. he’s just obsessed with you and wants you all to himself, sorry!
𖧷 intak
actually is the one who helps you pick out your outfit! tak himself wants to spend the night out showing off his beautiful girlfriend so he purposely convinces you to wear the shortest denim skirt you own, paired with an equally revealing spaghetti strap crop top. comes up behind you when your adjusting your outfit in the mirror to wrap his arms around your waist and perch his chin on your right shoulder, shooting down any concerns you might have about your outfit being kind of “whorish” (your words, not his!). is your personal hype man. you look good and he’s gonna make you feel good. loves to watch you on the dance floor from a nearby barstool, having the time of your life with your friends. after you’ve tired yourself out, you walk towards him to join him at the bar and he doesn’t miss the opportunity to eye your entire body from top to bottom and let out an obnoxious whistle. he’s sooooo sweet frat boy coded… definitely asks if he can take a body shot off of you whilst winking and you just roll your eyes in response. when he ends up drunk out of his mind and you have to drag him inside your shared cab, he’s mumbling the sweetest praises to you before he falls asleep against your shoulder
𖧷 soul
doesn’t really have much to say, but his body language speaks for itself. like most of piwon, his possessiveness is at a minimum, and like intak, he loves when you feel confident enough to dress this way. maybe it’s the introvert in him, but he lives vicariously through your bold outfit choices. loves to give you kisses on your exposed collarbone as he smoothens out a crease on your silk skirt. he also loves the way your stomach peeks out of your cropped top, and he holds onto your waist when kissing you to circle his thumbs on the area. stares at you lovingly the entire night, and doesn’t falter when your eyes meet every now and then. he comes up to you towards the end of the night and whispers into your ear about how he thinks you look so pretty and that he loves this outfit. you definitely end up seeing a more vocal side of him when the alcohol kicks in, and you swoon at how lovey dovey his words are. he just wants you to feel pretty and confident and he ends up succeeding in proving that to you! makes really bad attempts at flirting which ends up in the pair of you laughing your asses off. overall shota makes you feel beautiful and you make mental notes to bring him out wearing revealing clothes more often
𖧷 jongseob
djsjdkajdjsj i have to write my boyfriend as clingy as possible. he’s definitely the type of boyfriend to sit on the end of your bed, aimlessly scrolling on his phone and taking little peeks at you every now and then while you’re doing your makeup on your vanity. when you finish your makeup and go to your closet to change into the tiny little dress you’ve chosen for the evening, you’re honestly a bit nervous as to how your boyfriend will react to how bodycon and short the attire is, but you look and feel hot and that encourages you to step out in front of him. he notices your presence right away and looks up at your face, then chest, then thighs, and then turns off and tucks his phone into his back pocket and grabs at you to sit on his lap. gives you the sweetest kiss imaginable and pulls away to look at you with disbelief. asks you something along the lines of “how did i get so lucky?” and his hands run all over the material of your dress. his boldness is new but very welcome and he spends a good while complimenting you, asking you where you bought this dress, and playing with your hair with a smug grin on his face. gets soooo excited to take you out and wastes no time in calling an uber so he can show you off to the world. feels like he’s on cloud 9!
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taglist: @woozixo @hearts4chanhee @kyokopi @astro-doll-the-star @soobiary @kyaaramello @t3ssamoodboard @angelcbf @idontknow-1s-world @vivienne-sim @elissasimp @imjustayapper @ihatewreckingballmains @theyluvsosa @seobing @www90kitsch @khfviq @barbiekh86t @bbyjjunie @taeyangi @fullsunstrawberry @jihnyah @intheemptymirror
© kisseobie, please do not repost my writing!
𖧷 ₊ ° .
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f1byjessie · 10 months ago
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HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81.
love is a wild ride, and logan sargeant's sister is about to find this out the hard way.
( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )
━━ part one.
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liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 2,798 others
yourusername yeehaw (bahrain edition)
view all 934 comments
user the only person more american than logan is his sister
logansargeant imagine spending more time with a horse than your own twin brother
↳ yourusername don't need to bc i did
↳ logansargeant this is the cyber bullying mom warned me about
↳ yourusername do you wanna see bullying? cuz i'll show you bullying
user oh to be a girl at the beach during sunset
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liked by logansargeant, williamsracing, and 9,684 others
tagged: logansargeant
yourusername baby's first f1 race! kick some ass logie! 🫶
view all 1,452 comments
logansargeant thank you but we're literally the same age??
↳ yourusername umm i think you're mistaken cuz last i checked i was still a minute older
user LOGIE I'M DECEASED
user y/n giving us the low qual logan content we've been craving
williamsracing Best of luck to Logan! We're happy to have him as part of the team!
user WTF IS A KILOMETERRRRR RAHHHH 🦅🦅🦅
oscarpiastri i don't even wanna know how far back you had to scroll in your gallery to find that last picture
↳ yourusername careful piastri, i have some of you too and i'm not afraid to use them
↳ oscarpiastri noted.
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tagged: yourusername
logansargeant could've been better, could've been worse, but i couldn't have asked for a better cheerleader this weekend. everyone's jealous they ain't got a sister like mine
view all 2,117 comments
user RAAAAHH!! USA!! USA!! USA!! 🦅💥
alex_albon could really feel the williams love all weekend long 💙
yourusername i mean i GUESS i have to take my job as your sister seriously SOMETIMES
↳ oscarpiastri as opposed to the rest of the time when you're mortal enemies
↳ yourusername i'm glad SOMEONE understands
user am i the only one who didn't know logan had another sibling???
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f1paddockgossip_official Y/N Sargeant, sister to new Williams driver Logan Sargeant, makes her F1 paddock debut this weekend at the Bahrain Grand Prix! With such a bright demeanor, it was hard to miss her! It's only the first race of the 2023 season, and we hope to be seeing her around more often.
view all 7,538 comments
user THAT'S WHO THAT WAS???
user she's our all american girl and we love her
user nothing more american than twins
↳ user this literally makes no sense?? what??
user FORGET THE DRIVERS I WANNA MEET HER 😍
user becoming a logan fan just for his sister
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yourusername goodbye bahrain, you were a wonderful experience
view all 364 comments
user will you be at the saudi arabian gp???
williamsracing We hope to see you at more races Y/N! Thanks for coming out to support our team! 💙
↳ yourusername of course! i had the time of my life!
user who needs to be a wag when you can just be the sister of a driver and get the same benefits
user is this supposed to be a reference to oscar's post??
↳ user wait omg is it?
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oscarpiastri goodbye bahrain, you were everything.
comments have been disabled
━━ a/n: oh gosh, this is my first time posting anything like this on tumblr so i hope it's good! more to come eventually! still trying to figure out a style, so please excuse any mistakes or discrepancies!
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jeanboyjean · 9 months ago
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RIDE WITH ME ft. shinichiro sano. nsfw. 
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You go to a bar to meet up with one of your dating app prospects but he stands you up. You’re drinking your sorrows away when the guy next to you catches your eye. 
a/n: im so down bad u guys i just had to write something for him bc i NEED CONTENT. i truly believe he would worship the ground u walk on yes he would. i experimented a little with my writing style bc i felt like it fit better but lemme know what u think. it's my first time posting here for someone that's not jean so pls be nice <3
cw: fem! reader. mdni. nothing crazy just good old porn with a little plot! oral (f! receiving), protected sex. love at first sight coded. 
6.9k words
tag: @arlerts-angel @milky-aeons @livefromnc @kokonoiscoconut
song: for your love - måneskin
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Your throat burned as you knocked back yet another shot, willing the alcohol to soothe the ache you felt in your chest. It was almost twenty minutes past the time you and your date had agreed to meet... but he was nowhere to be seen. Disappointment flooded your mind as you sat at the bar alone, your feet throbbing in the strappy heels you were wearing and your skin itching from the tight dress you had squeezed into just for tonight. All for some sucker who hadn’t bothered to show. 
Of course he hadn’t shown. 
The weariness of dating was starting to get to you - constant swiping, talking to someone new every week and getting your hopes up, only to have them crushed again when it turned out to be another dud. What was the point in trying anymore, when time after time you were endlessly disappointed. Honestly, you should have known better than to get your hopes up but the hopeless romantic in you longed for the companionship you had always dreamed about. How much longer would you have to do this dance before you found someone who would appreciate everything you had to give?
You looked down at your phone again with a huff, checking one last time for an update. To your surprise there was an unopened notification waiting for you. 
Hey, sorry I can’t make it anymore. Can we reschedule? 
You snorted in irritation, reading over the text again. Your vision flashed red with anger as you stared down at your screen with gritted teeth. Reschedule? Yeah, as if. If this loser wasn’t going to give you the benefit of letting you know before the time of your date then there was a fat chance you would give him another go. 
With a heavy heart, you sighed and slumped against the counter, waving at the bartender to signal for another drink when you caught his eye. As he took away your glass, you unlocked your phone again and opened a text chain with your friends thinking you might as well make the most of the night since you were all dressed up. Maybe they would be willing to come out and join you now that you were here and dateless with nothing else to do. 
While you sat there at the bar, on the opposite side of the room, Shinichiro made his entrance into the establishment. He casually scanned his surroundings as he pushed open the door, a small bell jingling as it closed behind him. Groups of patrons gathered at the scattered tables and a lively hum of voices rose over the low music. As always, he set his sight towards the bar and he stopped in his tracks when his eyes caught on you. 
Shinichiro frequented this bar regularly, often stopping by after work when he needed some time to cool down. It was the case tonight and he had been looking forward to getting a drink alone with his thoughts after a long day working on a new bike ... or at least, he had been planning to drink alone. Talking to a girl hadn’t been on the agenda at all, but from the moment he saw you at the bar, perched up on your stool, all of his thoughts went out the window. In an instant, he was captured by your pretty frame, the way your brows drew together as you frowned down at your phone and he studied your image, wondering what you would look like if he could put a smile on your face. 
WIth a newfound sense of purpose, he approached the bar swiftly and deliberately, only stopping when he was at a comfortable distance next to you. His heart raced as he contemplated his next move and he lifted a hand to wave at the bartender. Now that he was in your vicinity, the heady scent of your perfume trailed towards him, sweet and inviting.
His proximity created a slight shift in the atmosphere around you and your skin prickled and your body tensed on instinct as you became aware of his presence. 
“Hey,” you heard his deep voice say. “Whiskey, neat. Thanks.”
You looked up. You saw the tall man, leaning against the counter with the sleeves of his jacket rolled up past his forearms. Dark hair fell over his face as he spoke to the bartender, his eyes scanning the lines of bottles on the shelves in front of him. From the side, you couldn’t see the details of his face but he cut a nice figure as he towered next to you.
As if sensing your gaze, Shinichiro glanced over at you and your eyes locked for a moment before you quickly looked away shyly, a heat warming your cheeks. A breath caught in your throat and your mouth ran dry as your mind took quick notice of his appearance. Yikes… he’s good looking. 
You busied yourself with looking anywhere but at him, your eyes flitting around you in a hurry, your hands flying to your chest to fiddle with the top of your dress. Luckily, you were saved from your flustering by the bartender placing a fresh shot glass in front of you at just the right moment and you reached toward it gratefully, offering him a sheepish smile.
Shinichiro followed your movements closely with a steady gaze. For some reason he couldn’t explain and before he could register what he was doing, his hand was flying out to stop you before you could take the drink, his arm moving instinctively without him prompting it to.
Your head snapped toward him, your eyes wide with surprise. His expression was carefully blank, but something bright flickered behind the dark pools of his eyes. You narrowed your own back at him, a scowl twisting your lips. 
“Let me buy you a real drink,” Shinichiro began. The words tumbled out of him, clumsy and not as smooth as he hoped. He winced inwardly. What was he saying?
You continued to glare at him only adding to the nerves he felt as he attempted a cool smirk, hoping he appeared more collected than he felt. He accepted the glass being offered to him by the bartender, grateful for the small distraction and the amber liquid swirled as he brought it toward him. His other hand remained outstretched in front of you to block your movement as he held your gaze.   
Unimpressed, you huffed out a laugh as you gave him a proper once over. You were no stranger to cheesy one liners and guys trying to pick you up when you went out. His appearance was simple - dark jacket over a white t-shirt that was stained with spots of dark ink and light wash jeans. The dim lighting of the bar casted shadows across the planes of his face and his dark eyes gleamed at you. He wasn’t exactly striking, but he was handsome in a way that tugged at your chest and interest stirred in you, your body ever the traitor. 
“Does that normally work for you?” You asked coolly, your eyebrows raised in a disbelieving look.
Although you had tried to play it off, your survey of him hadn’t gone unnoticed by him and he smirked around his glass as he took a sip of his drink. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
“Mmhmm.” In a swift motion, you swept your glass around his hand and lifted it to your lips, downing the liquid. You welcomed the burn, letting it warm the ice in your heart. 
He chuckled and took a seat on the stool next to you. Of course you wouldn’t be so easy. It was a good thing he always liked a challenge - if there was one thing he excelled at, it was going for what he wanted and never backing down.
You ignored his presence, turning away from him and scrolling on your phone again. Unluckily for you, all of your friends had replied to you with their apologies, already busy with their own plans. You sighed, resigning yourself to the fact that you would have to admit defeat and head home for the night empty handed. 
Shinichiro shifted in his seat next to you, clearing his throat lightly. His fingers tapped on the counter less than a foot from where your elbows pressed into the smooth surface. You peered in your peripheral vision at him and watched as his finger traced around the ring of condensation left on the surface by his glass. He nursed his drink slowly and stared blankly into the distance with an expression that was hard to read. Laughter swirled around you as the two of you sat solemnly, lost in your own thoughts.
“Long day?” You asked finally to break the silence. Curiosity would always get the better of you. 
Shinichiro’s head snapped toward you in surprise. While you had been mourning your lack of social life, he had been trying to think of what he could say next to get your attention. The last thing he had predicted was that you would initiate the conversation yourself.  
“It wasn’t too bad,” he replied. “You look like you’ve had better though.” 
You shrugged and tried to keep your expression in check. A short laugh huffed out of you in an attempt to mask your bitter words. “Yeah. I was supposed to be on a date. He stood me up though.” 
“Someone stood you up? Why would they ever do that?”
“I don’t know. Whatever. It doesn’t matter.” 
He cocked his head to the side, appraising you up and down carefully. His eyes lingered on your bare thighs and your chest and his body subconsciously responded to the sight, his heart skipping a beat or two and his dick twitching in his pants. You were pretty, beautiful even, and he was only a man. 
“I would never leave you hanging. A girl like you? He must have been a schlub.” 
You narrowed your eyes at him again, studying his face. “Does that one work for you too?” 
A carefree laugh bubbled out of him as he shook his head, his hair falling to frame his face. “Not really. Not a lot works for me usually, to be honest.” 
His candour surprised you. His dark eyes bore into yours, earnest and a little shameless. He didn’t appear to care much about the way he came off to you and it made you want to lower your guards just a little.
“I’m Shinichiro,” he said, holding out his hand. His fingers were dirty, discoloured by the same dark smudges that painted his clothes. He noticed you staring and pulled back his hand, wiping it against his shirt. “Sorry, I just finished work. I promise I washed my hands, it’s just this stuff is hard to get off.” A flush graced his cheeks as his eyes darted to your face and away in embarrassment. “I own a motor shop and I’ve been fixing up a bike all day.” 
“Oh,” you hummed. You introduced yourself, telling him your name as you held out your hand. You were no stranger to getting your hands dirty yourself and you were polite, if nothing else. His eyes softened and after a slight pause he leaned forward to take it, squeezing it hard. Calluses lined his palms and your skin tingled from the roughness as you shook his hand. 
“So, Shinichiro… I told you my story. You tell me yours. What brings you here on this fine night?” 
He grinned at you, taking a sip of his drink. “Well, like I said. I just got off work. I come here to wind down sometimes, get a drink.” 
“On your own?” 
“My friends can get a bit rowdy. Sometimes I enjoy the peace and quiet of being alone.” 
You shifted in your seat, uncrossing then recrossing your legs. Your fingers played with the hem of your dress and pulled it down when it rode up your thigh as you changed positions. It was hard to miss the way his breath hitched and his eyes flickered as he followed your movements. “Do you want me to leave you alone then?”
Shinichiro shook his head, breaking out of his trance. “No, I think you’re cool. I want to get to know you more.” 
You laughed, the sound bubbling out of you and into his heart. “If I didn’t know any better I would think you’re hitting on me.” 
“Is it working?” His eyes twinkled with humour. He couldn’t help but feel hopeful and he tried to ignore the excitement building inside him, twisting his stomach with nerves.
“Maybe… You’ll have to wait and see.” 
He gestured toward your empty shot glass. “Do you want another?”
You considered it for a moment, letting yourself indulge in the possibility before you shook your head regretfully, heaving out a sigh. As nice as it was to talk to him, the disappointment of your date being a no show had already ruined your night. Had you been in a better mood, you would have loved to continue flirting with him. 
“No, I think I’ll go home. I might as well get changed into something comfortable and drown my sorrows in my own bed.” 
His heart sank a little at your words, disappointment creeping in. He had only just got here and you were already ready to go, right when he felt like he was getting somewhere. Unwilling to let you go too easily, he tried his hand at another play. “How are you getting home?” 
“I was going to call an uber.”
“Don’t waste your money. Let me take you home. My bike is parked out front, you can sit on the back.” 
You snorted, shaking your head. “Haven’t you been drinking? It’s fine, don’t worry about me.” 
“I’ve only had one,” he tried to reassure you, gesturing to his glass. “I’m fine, it takes more than a couple drinks for me to feel anything. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t feel up for it.” 
Maybe it was because you were a little tipsy but part of you wanted to say yes. He offered a hesitant smile as he looked down at you with an earnest expression and his invitation tempted you just a little. Thankfully to your benefit though, you had enough presence of mind to know better. He was just a stranger after all. A cute one, but a stranger nonetheless.
“I’m okay. Thanks for the offer, I appreciate it.” 
Shinichiro nodded, accepting your refusal with a heavy heart. It made sense; he couldn’t blame you really. If you were Emma, he would have expected her to do the same thing. Still, it didn’t make it sting any less as he nodded, lifting his glass toward you in acknowledgement as you gathered your things and turned to leave. 
Unable to contain himself, he chanced another look at you as you walked away. His eyes tracked the way you slinked away on your heels, your hips swaying with every step. As you opened the door and stepped outside, he turned back to the bar and heaved out a sigh.  
The bartender caught his eye with raised eyebrows and Shinichiro reluctantly pushed his glass forward to accept another drink. An uneasy feeling crept over him as he sat there, trying to process his encounter with you and dread flooded to form a pit in his stomach and his heart sank impossibly further when he realised he had made a dire mistake. 
Idiot. He had forgotten to ask you for your number. 
***
It had been two weeks since Shinichiro had met you. Two weeks, since he had last seen you. 
He had tried not to think about it too much. He knew it was silly of him to get so bothered by it. You were just a stranger really, you had barely shared more than a few minutes together... but there was just something about you that he couldn’t forget. Everyday, when he had a spare moment, he would flashback to his conversation with you and regret every decision he had ever made. He had kicked himself enough over the past few days for not getting your number or not insisting to buy you another drink. 
When he walked into the bar again on another Friday night, he wasn’t expecting to see you there at the counter. And yet there you were, in another short dress, the hem riding up your thighs, perched up on your stool. His brain short circuited slightly as he looked you up and down, his breath catching in his throat. As if in a trance, he began moving toward you like a moth would to a flame, weaving his way past tables until the bar came into full view.
All of a sudden he was stuttering to a stop in his tracks. Blood roared in his ears and his vision tunnelled as he took in the reality of the situation in front of him. You were here, yes, but not alone this time, instead clearly talking with a man next to you. Shinichiro watched with dread in his heart as you tipped your head back at something your companion said, your shoulders shaking with laughter as the man smiled smugly, his eyes raking over your body. Jealousy coursed through his veins at the sight. What could possibly be so funny? 
Shinichiro approached the bar slowly. His legs felt heavy with lead as the distance between the two of you lessened little by little. Part of him wanted to leave immediately, but another just wanted to see if you would acknowledge him if he stood within your reach. Would you even remember him? 
When he finally finished crossing the floor, he leaned against the counter behind you with his eyes fixed in front of him. He didn’t dare to spare you a glance.
Your body was stiff with irritation as you sat there on your stool. Your face ached from holding the smile on your face as laughter came out of you in forced bursts. To your right, your date sat facing you with a broad smile, completely oblivious to the discomfort you felt. You were decidedly not having a good time.
Despite your recent disappointment, you had tried to bounce back and had come out tonight on yet another date with yet another guy. Alas, it was to no avail. Although it had only been half an hour, you already knew it was going nowhere - there was no chemistry, his photos were definitely outdated and honestly the way he was looking at you gave you the creeps. Great, another dud. All throughout the date, your thoughts had kept drifting back to the last time you had been here and Shinichiro’s face flashed in your mind. If only your date had been someone like him. 
As you shifted in your seat to reach for your drink, you became aware of a person standing to your side. You turned to look over your shoulder and gasped as surprise overcame you when you saw who it was. The man was busy looking down at something on his phone and hadn't seemed to have noticed you next to him but you recognised the handsome face instantly. Speak of the devil, you thought to yourself. Without a second to waste, you pounced on the opportunity to ditch your date.
“Shinichiro!” 
For Shinichiro, the sound of his name coming from your voice was completely unexpected. He jolted in shock as he turned toward you with wide eyes. You were grinning broadly at him, your eyes sparkling in delight and warmth filled his body as a natural response. He was an honest man. He couldn't deny that the sight of your face did numbers on his heart.  
“Oh, hey!” He said, trying to recover, a smile playing on his lips. "Fancy seeing you here!" He glanced curiously over at the stranger next to you who in turn scowled back at him. 
“Shinichiro’s a good friend,” you said enthusiastically as you turned back to your date. “I haven’t seen him in a while. Is it okay if he joins us?” 
Your date frowned, his face twisting in distaste. If you had any feelings toward him you would have felt bad for the clear confusion you were causing him. “You want him to join our date?” 
“Yeah. We’re just hanging out anyway.”
He scoffed. “Hanging out? Are you serious? I didn’t come all this way and buy you a drink just to hang out.” 
Despite it probably being warranted, his attitude was not appreciated. You glared at the man, your eyes cold enough to turn him to ice. “Well, I want to talk to him. If you don’t like it you can leave.” 
“Is this for real?” The man looked at Shinichiro who shrugged, unable to contain the cheshire cat grin that stretched his lips. 
Your date huffed, grumbling to himself as his eyes flicked back and forth between you and Shinichiro. His cheeks reddened with frustration and his lips quivered in anger as he stood in a hurry and gathered his things. “You know what? Fuck this,” he snapped. “I’m gonna go. What a waste of time” 
You lifted your hand in a wave, smiling sweetly, his reaction not bothering you in the slightest. “Bye!” You called after him as he stomped away. 
Shinichiro waited for the man to leave, before taking his place next to you. Your eyes locked in a shared moment as you processed the turn of events and in an instant the two of you were bursting into laughter, your shoulders shaking as giggles tumbled out of you. 
“I was trying to find an excuse to get rid of him,” you sputtered, trying to contain your laughter. “Seems the universe sent you to me at just the right time.”
Shinichiro admired the way your face lit up in unabashed joy, the corners of your eyes crinkling as your mouth stretched wide in the prettiest smile he had ever seen. “The universe does work in interesting ways,” he snickered in response. For example, he thought to himself, the fact that he had been hoping to see you again and here you were in front of him, the second chance he had been praying for. 
You continued to smile up at him sweetly, looking up through your eyelashes as humour danced behind your eyes. Truthfully, you had been hoping to see him here too.
“So, are you going to buy me a drink, Shinichiro?” 
He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Are you going to let me?” 
You crossed your arms in front of you. He tried not to pay attention to the way it brought his focus to your chest. You nodded toward your empty glass, a clear message in your gaze, and he leaned over the counter, waving at the bartender to get his attention. He pointed to your glass. 
“Can I get another one of whatever she had … and a beer for me, please.” 
You hummed in thought, cocking your head to the side. “Just a beer today? I remember you had something a bit stronger last time.” 
He grinned, pleased to know you had been paying attention. 
“I want to make sure I’m sober enough to take you home tonight.” 
He held his breath as he watched your reaction. You blinked at him in surprise, although there was no reason you should have been. He was sure he had been clear enough in his intentions the last time you had met. A flush warmed your cheeks as you tried to keep your composure but a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. Shinichiro grinned in satisfaction. Gotcha. 
Time passed quickly as the two of you conversed. The banter came easily, laughter flowing freely. You were funny, he realised, more than he thought … and beautiful, exactly his type. Multiple times throughout the night, he'd had to pause to remind himself to keep it together, lest he fall too hard too fast. You had only really just met and it was proving difficult to reign it in when you were hitting it off so smoothly like this. 
An hour later, you were still nursing the drink he had bought you, twisting it around in your hands as you smiled warmly at him. A small part of him hoped it was because you wanted to prolong the conversation for as long as possible. He would buy you another this time, if it meant you would stay to talk to him. The grip you had wrapped around his heart tightened as you gazed up at him through your eyelashes, your eyes twinkling in the low light.
“So when are you going to take me home, Shinichiro?” 
Your sweet voice tugged at his chest, your words catching him off guard. Your hand fell down to rest on his forearm and squeezed tight. Your playful look told him a clear message, and he received it wholeheartedly, instantly becoming putty in your hands.
“How about now?” He offered, holding out his hand. 
You giggled in response as you took it, clutching it tight. 
***
The ride to your place went by in a blur. His head was a mess as his bike rumbled beneath him, the engine roaring as he zipped down the road with you sitting behind him. All of his thoughts were consumed by the feeling of you pressed up against his back, your arms wound around his waist, gripping tight on his shirt as your bare thighs enveloped him. All of his energy was focused on staring straight ahead, ignoring the blood pumping in his veins to gather down between his legs.
It was a relief when he finally pulled onto your street. You helpfully tapped his shoulder and extended an arm to point in front of him at your house and he swiftly parked his bike before helping you off with an outstretched hand. He carefully lifted the helmet that he normally used for himself gently off your head. 
“How was that for your first ride?” He asked, shaking out his shoulders and breathing in the night air.
“Good!” You nodded enthusiastically and he chuckled, smoothing down the top of your hair. 
A wide grin stretched on your face as you blinked at him. Your cheeks flushed with excitement and your eyes sparkled with newfound energy. He couldn’t help but admire the way it lit up your face in a pretty glow and his hand fell down your hair to twist the ends around his finger. The night was quiet but electricity sparked between the two of you as you stood there in front of your door. 
“Do you wanna come in?” You asked the question he had been waiting for, your hands coming up to grip the front of his shirt. 
“I- I shouldn’t. We only just met.” 
“So? Isn't this why you chatted me up? Why you bought me a drink? Why you took me home?” 
“You’re drunk, more than me. I don’t want to take advantage of you.” 
“Oh, you’re so honourable,” you said with a voice all saccharine. “It’s okay, I’m more sober than you think. I’m offering now, Shinichiro. Take it or leave it.” 
His eyes locked onto yours and he nodded. Okay, was all he said before you were pulling him into your house and closing the door behind you.
In a quick motion, he had you pushed up against the door, pressing you back against it. His hands cupped your cheeks as your mouths met in a passionate kiss. Your lips were soft against his and time stopped as you moved together in a messy dance of give and take. Everything in his body honed in on the feeling of you, your mouth, your skin, and he deepened the kiss, desperate for more. Blood roared in his ears and his heart raced wildly, his body moving completely by instinct. A low moan slipped out of you when his tongue slid over yours and the sound landed straight between his legs where his dick was growing harder by the second.
“Where’s your bedroom?”
His voice was low and rough with arousal. You swallowed thickly, eyes half lidded as you blinked up at him. As if in a daze, you grabbed his hand and pulled him along as you hurried toward your open bedroom door. 
Once there, he pushed you down on your bed so you were lying on your back and climbed over you, caging you between his forearms. He towered over you as he bared his weight into them on either side of your head and his legs trapped you underneath him so you had nowhere to go. Silky dark hair fell down over his eyes as he dipped his head to capture your mouth again in an eager kiss, his soft lips moving fervently against your own.
Your legs wrapped around his hips and you squeezed tight, lifting your hips as you brought his bulging crotch close toward you. The stiff fabric of his jeans brushed against your aching body, your thin underwear already damp with your arousal, and you mewled, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the sparks of pleasure it gave you. He groaned into your mouth in return, his hips jerking into you, craving more friction. 
His mouth travelled down your body, sucking the soft skin behind your ear, noting the way your body responded to his touch. Your back arched when he trailed down your neck, lapping at your skin and there was a sharp intake of breath as he nipped lightly with his teeth. The fact that you were still wearing clothes grated on his nerves and he tugged at the hem of your dress in annoyance.
“Off,” he grunted out through gritted teeth. 
Your pupils dilated and your chest heaved as you did what he said. With shaking fingers, you reached behind you to unzip your dress and pulled it hastily down past your shoulders. You hadn’t bothered to wear a bra tonight and your upper body was now exposed to him in all its glory. 
His breath caught in his throat as he stared down at you, watching the way your chest rose and fell with your breathing. A hand came down to cup a breast and he revelled in the way you moaned his name as he rolled a hard nipple with his fingers. Not one to waste any time, he swooped down to latch onto the other with his mouth, licking at the stiff bud with his tongue and sucking into your soft skin. 
You moaned above him, keening as you lifted your hips up flush against his. Your hands gripped his shoulders, fingertips lightly clawing into his skin.
“Shin, please,” you breathed out. “I want you to touch me.” 
His eyes snapped up to your face, dark with lust. He released your tits as he rose back up to capture your mouth in another kiss. His hips rolled into yours, deliberate this time, and you arched into him, desperate and needy. 
“You want me to touch you, pretty girl?” His hips rocked again, grinding against your aching pussy. “I’m touching you already, aren’t I?”
You mewled under him, bucking into him to chase the sensation. Desire coursed through your veins as you blinked up at him through your haze. You were beginning to lose your grip on reality; everything in your body screamed at you with the need for more.
His eyes widened when he saw your hand slide down your legs in an attempt to try and relieve the throbbing between your thighs. In a swift motion, he was stilling your hand, gripping your wrist tight. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” He hissed.
“Please, Shin. I need more. I want to feel you inside me.”
His eyes narrowed, irises impossibly dark. He pushed back onto his knees, towering over you as he pulled your dress down your legs. Your arousal was on full display now, your damp underwear a clear show of your desire. A low chuckle rumbled from his throat and his fingers grazed the wet spot as he slid his hand over your crotch. 
You moaned helplessly and lifted your hips up as he removed your underwear. Despite it all, a small cloud of self consciousness hung over you as you lay there vulnerable and bare in front of him. It was easy to ignore though, when you saw the way his eyes flashed with desire as he looked down at you. His mouth hung open as he zoned in on your pussy, dripping wet and ready for him and he licked his lips as if getting ready to eat the best meal of his life.
“If you wanted me this badly, you should have said so. I would be happy to help.”
His fingers slid against your folds, gathering the wetness as he began putting light pressure on your sensitive clit. You jerked underneath him, your thighs subconsciously moving to close together but he trapped them open, pushing them apart with his arms. Heat began to build in your core, blooming to extend throughout your limbs. 
“You look so pretty like this, baby.” His fingers dipped down to your wet opening, catching at the entrance before sliding back up. “I bet you taste good. I need to know. Can I?”  
You were so light headed, dizzy with arousal that all you could do was nod. It was all he needed before he was leaning down, sliding back on the bed until his face was hovering between your legs. His hot breath fanned over your cunt and it clenched around nothing, already so sensitive in anticipation. He licked a stripe up your slit, lapping up your wetness before directing his attention to your clit. His lips wrapped around the sensitive bud, sucking as his tongue skimmed over the bundle of nerves and his fingers came back to play with your folds. By the time he finally slid one inside you, you were paralysed with pleasure, your eyelids fluttering shut as you whimpered his name. 
He sucked in a breath at the feeling of your warmth around him as you released a moan. He slowly began pumping his finger as he continued sucking at your clit, curling inside you to massage at the spongy walls. You squeezed around him in an effort to amplify the sensation and it sent blood rushing to the growing member between his legs. A wet spot was forming in his own underwear and he couldn’t help himself from grinding down into the mattress. 
Electricity raced through your nerves as he added another finger and your thighs began to tremble as you neared your orgasm. You gripped your bed sheets tight as he expertly stroked you in a perfect rhythm while his tongue flicked at your clit.
"I'm gonna cum!" You gasped as you teetered at the edge and he moaned into your pussy in response, so far gone just from giving you what you needed. His heavy lidded eyes flicked up to meet yours and the heady look on his flushed face was the final thing you saw before you were careening off the edge, the waves hitting you all at once.
You cried out as you came around him, jerking and thrashing underneath his weight.
“That’s it,” he praised as you pulsed around his fingers. “That’s it, pretty girl.”
He stroked your thigh up and down as you shook underneath him, mesmerised by the sight of your pussy clenching. His dick strained hard against his pants and he moved back up to kneel on the bed, unzipping his pants quickly and pulling down his underwear for some relief. His cock sprang out, thick and heavy in his hand and he tugged at it, the angry tip leaking with precum. With the small remaining self preservation he had, he reached into his pocket before removing his pants to find the spare condom in his wallet for situations like these. 
Even through your haze, your eyes widened at the sight. Your mouth salivated and heat began building in your core again as you watched, entranced by the way his hand slid over the tip, rolling the condom down over his length. You bit your lip as your pussy clenched in desire - you needed to feel every inch of him inside you.
He groaned as his heavy lidded eyes met yours. “You still want me inside you? You ready for this cock?”
You nodded fervently. “Please, Shin, I want it so bad.” 
“Come, ride me then.” 
He sat down on the bed, leaning back to rest against the pillows. You eagerly moved to straddle him, hovering over his hips and reached down to wrap your hand around his dick, grinning when you felt him in your grasp. Without a second to waste, you lined him up and slowly sank down, feeling him fill you up inch by inch. 
“Oh fuck, you feel so good,” Shinichiro hissed when you finally sat down flush against his hips. Your walls squeezed so tight around him and it took him all of the self control he had not to flip you over and fuck into you himself. 
His eyes rolled back in delight when you started moving, lifting your weight and sliding up and down his length. You leaned back with your hands finding purchase on his thighs and it made your back arch, your tits bouncing as you impaled yourself on his cock, finding the right angle where it hit you just where you needed it. He watched you move in awe, hands came up to pinch your nipples as you threw your head back, whining in pleasure. 
“Fuck! Keep going, you feel so good. I've been wanting to do this for weeks. It's all I've been thinking about,” He moaned, unable to control himself. It was all he could do to just lie there and let you use him however you wanted. He squeezed his eyes shut, focusing only on the sensation of your heat sucking him in as he fell deeper and deeper into the feeling of you. His head was so dizzy with lust - all he could think about was you, you, you. 
You continued to bounce in his lap, relishing in the stretch of his cock. His tip slid through your walls, hitting every nerve, and it sent electricity radiating throughout your body, almost too much to bear. The sound of your skin slapping together and the bed rocking filled the room as you deliriously rolled your hips in an effort to chase your high. 
Sensing that you were nearing your limit, he reached down with a hand to rub at your clit and your thighs trembled as you clenched even tighter around him, each stroke of him inside you bringing you closer and closer towards another orgasm. It only took you a few more seconds before you cried out, waves of pleasure coursing throughout your body. 
Your movements stuttered as you pulsed around him, clenching to build a pressure so tight in his balls he felt like could burst. Wanting to chase his own release, he planted his feet and thrusted up into you, his arms wrapping around you as you fell limp against his chest. His grunts filled the room as his hips snapped up to meet yours, fucking into you relentlessly. You whimpered, continuing to shudder from satisfaction and overstimulation as he slammed into you harder and faster.  
“Shit, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!” Shinichiro cried out, his brows furrowed, his teeth gritted together as he gave one final thrust, his hips driving in all the way. Curses fell from his lips as he spilled into the condom, cock twitching inside you while you milked him for every drop. Darkness fell over his vision as his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he came so hard that he swore he blacked out.
A blanket of quiet settled over the room, the only sounds being your panting as the two of you lay there catching your breath. You slumped on top of his chest, sweaty skin sticking to his, and his heart beat wildly under your ear, matching the rhythm of your own. He gently smoothed down your hair, pulling it away from your face to tuck it behind your ear and you blinked at him with your lips lifted in a satisfied smile. He slowly lifted your hips with his hands and your eyes fluttered at the slide of his softening dick inside you and the emptiness left behind when he pulled out. He rolled off the condom, tying it before tossing it into your rubbish bin. 
Flushed and spent, you settled into his side, testing the waters as you wriggled in closer towards him. His arm tightened around your shoulders and he pulled you in, closing the space between your bodies, letting you wrap your limbs around him. Heat radiated between you as you leaned your head against his chest again and listened to the slowly steadying of his heart.  
“So, how was your first ride with me?” You teased with flushed cheeks and a dazed look. 
Shinichiro chuckled softly and brushed away the hair on your forehead. His friends had always made fun of him for being so weak with women, always falling hard and fast, regardless of the possibility of rejection. They were right sometimes, he did have a tendency of jumping right into the deep end. But this time, he would be damned if he let you slip out of his grasp. No... now that he'd had his first taste, there was no way in hell he was going to let you go. 
“If this is how good it was the first time, it better not be the last,” he replied simply, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.
You let out a satisfied hum in response. A small smile crept onto your face as you lightly trickled a finger down his chest. You hoped it wouldn’t be the last as well. 
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cuddling with a one night stand? that's crazy! but i know shin would. he's the type to move in after the second hookup. i said what i said!!
interactions/reblogs are always appreciated!
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kikitakite · 5 months ago
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I saw your callout in the Gale tag for that one user (no comment on them, tho ty for the callout bc i'd seen them in the notes of my fics) and was curious if you could elaborate on some of the Mystra incidents you described towards the end of the post? I'm new to the lore of the setting and find it hard to research (which makes sense given its importance to dnd), so I've heard a lot of conflicting things about Mystra's portrayal in the wider series. No pressure, obviously!
No problem! And yea, I've seen her arguing in the posts of a few people I follow or just Gale-related posts I find interesting. Usually I don't get involved in stuff like this, but I noticed a constant pattern and then all the homophobic shit so I went off a little.
Unfortunately it's hard to find exact examples of the Mystra lore because certain modules aren't very popular or even free to access, but if you're interested the best way to learn about her is by reading the Elminster novels. There's twelve total, dating all the way back to 1994, and they detail Elminster's adventures. I'll be honest though, some of them are a hard read and written through the lens of a man who's admitted very creative, but also has a lot of problematic ideas.
In the first book Elminster is a child. His entire town gets wiped out by mages, thereby making him hostile toward magic. He sneaks into Mystra's temple to deface her statue one night, but she appears before him and basically gaslights him into learning magic and becoming her rare Chosen. He becomes a wizard and cleric basically overnight, until eventually he multiclasses into pretty much every class type in DnD. As you can imagine a lot of players aren't too fond of Elminster, as he's a well known self-insert of the author and pretty annoying to run into during campaigns. None of my dungeon masters like him anyway.
He also becomes one of Mystra's most loyal followers, but she fucks with him over and over, turning him into a woman to teach him a lesson and SLEEPING with him in that form, berating him when he struggles with the torture he endures when he gets stuck in the hells, making him reproduce without his knowledge and getting jealous when he gives his partners more attention. Because she's a very jealous goddess, which I think the game vaguely touches on but not really.
I wish I had the time to flip through all the novels and give exact citations but the best I can do is suggest them, because they're so eye opening. She's considered a neutral good goddess, but neutral gods often do terrible things for the sake of their domain. I think it needs to be noted that Mystra, as with all gods in the pantheon, only cares about her portfolio. She isn't wrong for that, but it doesn't mean she's blameless when she messes with people's lives. She's done a lot of good but she's also made horrible decisions, especially where her followers are concerned.
For example, Elminster having children he doesn't know about. He has a daughter named Narnra. Her conception was... pretty fucked up. Basically a song dragon named Ammaratha Cyndusk was an occasional lover of Elminster's (he has a lot of those because of course he does) and she wanted to bear his child, but since he's a Chosen of Mystra he can control his fertility. Magic birth control, basically. He didn't want a kid so Ammaratha went behind his back to learn a counterspell that would make him fertile during sex. The man she asked refused to teach her because...duh that's messed up, but then Mystra intervened and told him to teach her the spell because she wanted Elminster's "seed to spread". Ammaratha never told him and neither did Mystra. No matter what the reasons, that was NOT consensual on Elminster's part, and it happened two more times, resulting in two more daughters with different women. If I remember correctly Elminster did eventually find out waaaaay later when they were all adults, but it never amounted to anything.
The sisters I was taking about are the Seven Sisters, Mystra's "daughters". And I put "daughters" in quotations because Mystra possessed the body of a woman named Elué and impregnated her without her consent. She slept with the woman's husband (again, while possessing her body) and made them sire seven children. This of course lead to Elué's death because the constant flow of magic in her body was too much for her to handle. Her grieving husband broke after she died and eventually left, abandoning his daughters and earning Mystra's scorn...as if he was in the wrong. The sisters were then orphaned and raised by foster families.
That said, most of the awful things anyone can say about Mystra were the doings of her previous incarnations so ultimately it doesn't apply to the Mystra of BG3. In fact, this third Mystra is supposed to be a new and improved goddess who's nicer to her followers. So her portrayal in BG3 annoyed a lot of DnD fans. I should also point out that Mystra has two types of fans: ones who will defend everything she does, even when it's fucked up beyond all comprehension, and the ones who will tell you she's a true neutral goddess capable of good and bad. I'm the latter. There are plenty examples of Mystra sticking her neck out for innocents, but there's also examples of her doing the most horrendous shit imaginable.
A lot of veteran players, at least the ones I know, are upset with the portrayal of Mystra in BG3 because her plan to end the Absolute is, quite frankly, stupid. Your party is the best chance anyone has of ending the threat, but she asks Gale to nuke himself and possibly tens of thousands, which makes no sense because she could've just sent her mages/clerics to deal with the problem. And there was no guarantee the bomb would've worked anyway. She put all the responsibility on one man and it DEFINITELY comes off as vindictive. That isn't out if character for her but she's not SUPPOSED to be that bad anymore. For a lot of DnD players it felt like she was reverting back to her old habits.
I think there's also a part in the game where you can directly ask Gale why she doesn't just blip the Absolute out of existence and he says something like, "She could but Ao won't allow it." That was also really strange for a lot of veteran players to hear because Gale drops Ao's name like it's nothing. Most people (especially if they're new to the franchise) wouldn't know this but most people in Faerûn don't know who Ao is! Because he wiped people's memories of his existence! I suppose it does make sense for Gale to know that name, since Mystra probably explained the pantheon to him, but it's VERY unlikely tav would know it. So during that conversation all I could picture was tav tilting their head like, "Huh? Who? Whaaa?"
And on top of that......Ao absolutely WOULD allow it because the Absolute effects the Weave and every other god! It had the potential to ruin the balance of the universe, which makes Ao a very angry boy. Balance is one of the ONLY things he cares about. The Dead Three were stealing souls and worshippers, which gods needs to survive, and dying gods disrupts the balance. It's a whole circle of chaos. So the only conclusion left for me to extrapolate is this: Mystra just really, really wanted Gale to kill himself to prove his devotion to her. Which...isn't great. Bad look for her.
It's kind of like how Raphael thinks the Crown of Karsus is going to help him end the Blood War and take over the hells. DnD players laughed during his epilogue because...no it won't lol. He doesn't stand a chance even with the crown. He's arrogant and he's gonna get slapped by his daddy and all the other archdevils, the same way Gale gets slapped by Mystra if he ascends. Even the Absolute ending of the game wouldn't last long because the gods would go to war with the Dead Three, wipe them out and rebuild Faerûn, which has happened many times in past DnD campaigns. Mystra alone has torn worlds apart and glued them back together. The main crisis of BG3 is saving the world you live in or everybody dies. For the gods it's just a Tuesday. I mean look at how Withers owns the Dead Three with a wave of his hand at the end of the game. Mystra COULD'VE killed the Absolute, just as she could've removed the orb from Gale's chest the moment it happened. She just didn't WANT to. She wanted him to die. She wanted him to chastise himself. She wanted him to suffer and come crawling back to her as an obedient follower. She wanted him to learn a harsh and honestly unfair lesson, which is a terrible throwback to her previous incarnations.
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mujeans · 27 days ago
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I LOVE THE PLAYERS (YOU LOVE THE GAME) ✦ HTS (TEASER)
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SYNOPSIS ✦ han taesan's a notorious name on campus; the resident playboy. with a long list of girls he's hooked up with, your best friend ended up being the latest unlucky addition - so you swear revenge on the boy by giving him a taste of his own medicine. after all, what's the best way to get back at a player? by playing their own game, of course!
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TAGS ✦ taesan x f!reader, one-shot, playboy!taesan, player!reader, ft. minji, leehan, jungwon ++, no warnings
WC ✦ 868 words (teaser); full fic may be 10k+
TAGLIST ✦ comment, dm, or send an ask to be added! not sure when it'll be posted, it might be a while bc i only really started it and school's keeping me busy...
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"is it just me, or is everyone staring at us today?"
that's the question you ask minji as you two settle down in the lecture hall at nine in the morning on a monday. god, living an hour away from school is not for the weak, but at least it's not an 8 a.m. not that it's much better anyway.
"um, i don't know," minji says worriedly, biting her lip. you can tell there's something wrong.
"what's up? you're not normally this anxious this early."
"nothing, nothing."
you purse your lips, wondering what she's hiding, but leave the matter alone for now. if she wasn't ready to talk about it, then you'll wait until she is.
that doesn't stop the people looking over and whispering however. and it's starting to piss you off when you can no longer hear yourself think as the lecturer drones on. clearly, no one was listening.
the girl in the row in front of you two turns and motions for minji to lean closer; she complies.
"hey, i heard what happened. you too, huh?"
you fixed them both with a perplexed look, one that was ignored by both parties. or maybe they didn't notice.
"oh god. does everyone know already? this is so embarrassing," your best friend replies, hiding her face behind her hands.
"i don't..." you mutter, still confused.
"don't worry. you're not the only one."
minji rolls her eyes at that. "i think we all know that. i just didn't think i'd be another girl who fell for his stupid antics."
now this started to ring alarm bells in your head. minji? 'falling' for someone's 'antics'? was this about...
"wait-" you tried to butt in, but was cut off.
"there's a group chat, by the way. of all the girls he'd played with. here - add your number to my phone, i'll add you."
you watched as minji was invited to a whatsapp groupchat, and held back a scoff when you read the name: TS's victims.
turning to look at minji with a raised eyebrow and a little shock, she looked sheepish.
"minji. no you didn't."
"you see-"
"oh my god. you hooked up with taesan??"
"no! i didn't. at least, we didn't get that far..."
it clicked then. "is that why you were sneaking out of the dorm so often these past two weeks?"
"guilty," the other girl, hanni, says simply.
taking the phone from minji's hand, you look through the members.
"23 girls. are you serious? he got with that many girls?" you look at hanni incredulously.
"look, it's not like this is anything new."
"yeah but, i didn't know there were this many. all in the two years we've been here?"
minji nodded grimly. "there's probably more too."
groaning, you lean back on your seat as she takes her phone back. a quick surveillance of the room locates taesan in one of the far corners, trying to look mysterious and cool as if there aren't tens of girls who already know what he's like in bed.
"i swear. i hate that guy. he thinks he can just go through girls like water?" you tell minji.
"if i looked like him, i'd go through girls like water too."
"shut up, dani."
"sorry!"
"it's guys like him why my mother always told me to stay away from boys," you say, scorn laced in your tone.
"what can you do?" minji shrugs her shoulders. "he'll find a new girl later this week. or maybe next week."
but you know that minji wasn't that kind of girl. she wasn't a one-time use and throwaway; a sentimental when it came to firsts and relationships. and now she had to act like she wasn't totally affected by whatever her and taesan had been doing the past two weeks.
noticing the look on your face, minji pats your arm.
"don't worry, we didn't go any further than making out."
"but that was your first kiss! wasn't it?"
"it was," she sighed. "i had to give it away eventually, didn't i?"
"yeah, but to someone who deserved it. not the guy with a roster of girls dated."
she just smiled appreciatively at you, and you knew you couldn't say anything else.
tuning back into the lecture, half of your mind was thinking of some way to make it better. you had to do something - it was getting ridiculous. taesan can't keep on hooking up with girls and throwing them away like it's nothing. you knew most of them held a lot of importance in romance, only to succumb to his looks and charm.
you had learned to dissociate from it all, though. growing up with strict parents, dating and boys were simply a no-no. so you somehow learned to be repulsed by the idea of ever dating at all. you'd never fall for someone like han taesan, you think his name in disgust.
and that's when the idea popped in - get him to fall for you and leave then leave him hanging. you were immune to romantic advances, so it wouldn't be too hard to turn the tables on him, right?
barely keeping your smirk to a minimum, you started devising a plan to play the player.
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PERM TAGLIST ✦ @squiishymeow
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mizusnose · 10 months ago
Note
ahem so I just read your college fuckboy mizu headcanons (which I loved) and was wondering if I could request a lil something about fuckboy mizu genuinely liking the reader so she makes changes to convince the reader she's serious. Reader would probs be SUPER skeptical bc casual relationships isn't their thing but it'd be so cute. Obvs you can just ignore this if you don't want to do it my mind has just been mizu brainrot lately
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so i’ve been letting this one marinate for a bit BUT: reader who gets together with Taigen to spite Mizu who won’t get serious for reader. Cue the jealousy, club shenanigans, and poet mizu (!!)
boyfriend by dove cameron for max brainrot
———
Taigen was a fine boyfriend. All things considered. He was better than most of the guys you’d been with before, and he had a motorcycle that he’d let you take pics with and post them on your feed.
But, he wasn’t Mizu.
This point had been made several times. Mostly on Taigen’s end. His constant whining of I see the way you look at her, god I bet you thought I was a woman huh, better yet—you wished I was her huh!
He wasn’t wrong, necessarily. It wasn’t your fault you’d gotten bored and decided to go to Taigen’s fencing practice. It wasn’t like you’d intended on falling head over heels for the hot butch lesbian who had a mean smirk and a sweaty jaw when she whooped Taigen’s ass.
You still remembered the way she had her neck bared, her hair falling over her shoulders, the beat of her heart nestled in between her collarbones, the dark green of her veins under her skin.
So, yeah, maybe you did have a thing for Mizu, who may or may not be your boyfriend’s biggest rival.
Heavy quotations on the rival part since Mizu didn’t give a shit that Taigen hated her—in fact, she didn’t care that the majority of the lesbians, bisexual, and bi-curious girls on campus hated her guts.
But that was what made her interesting.
You’d thought about it often: her, telling you to leave as soon as you’d come on her tongue or strap or fingers, (whatever was fine, you weren’t picky.) and you’d feel that tug in your tummy and your jaw would relax and fall open and—
“hah, did you come?”
And then you’d be back where you started: dating Taigen and fucking him and not being able to enjoy it or come or anything.
The thing was this: You’d only ever been in long-term relationships. Never dabbled in casual one night stands that Mizu was rumored to stick by. Even if you did want her, her time was limited. And you didn’t exactly love sharing.
So, when Taigen complained about having to go out this weekend to “bond or some teammate trust building shit, pfft, as if we aren’t trying to kill each other every practice. Not to mention Mizu will be there,” You convinced him to go, and for you to tag along. As moral support of course.
Now as much as Taigen loved telling you how much he hated Mizu, he liked coming to the thought of her much more. You’d done it quite often, bring Mizu up in sex, the way she’d fence and made him look like a fucking loser. How good she’d look kissing you, having you, taking you away from him. You’d both come then, not just him.
So you supposed it wasn’t that weird to be crushing over Mizu. Especially when the weekend came and the alcohol was sweet and fizzy and the wine dark and bitter, and the club lights shimmering on Mizu’s skin, her hair, her hands as she came up behind you.
“Hey.” She said. Simple, easy, confident. Her hands brushed your exposed back, the bend of your hip, the jut of your ribs.
“Hi.” You said. Sultry, warm, quiet so she’d have to twist closer to hear you when you gasped as she held your waist, tighter this time. A little mean, “I have a boyfriend.”
And she’d chuckle, and pull away and quirk her dark eyebrow up, “Really? Him?” A barely there glance at Taigen who was with the other fencing team members taking body shots off one another, “I could be a better boyfriend than him, you know.”
She spun you around, the steady heat of her palm always on you, “You know me.” It wasn’t a question. You saw the way Mizu’s eyes dragged across your body on her way over, her tongue on her lips as she stared. She knew you were Taigen’s girlfriend.
“Been watching.” She brought you closer, shifted her hands and then you were close. Closer than you’d ever been to her before.
She smelled heady and like pinewood. The plane of her chest was defined, sturdy, and you wondered if she had small breasts, if they were sensitive.
“Can’t believe I almost went home when you’re here—all alone.” She smirked, the same damned smirk you’d replay in your mind as you masturbated and thought of her, “Think I might just steal you from him, hm?”
Her hands slipped up your back, to the bottom of your nape, a demanding grip: there one second, gone the next. She watched your face, your lips, your neck.
“Does this usually work on other girls?”
You pushed away then, your legs wobbly and your underwear damp. You wanted, but you knew exactly what Mizu thought of you: an easy thing, something of Taigen’s. Good for a night, forgotten the next.
So you straightened your clothes, and met Mizu’s confused gaze, “I have a boyfriend.”
Mizu’s mouth twitched. Barely. But you’d caught it as you turned, and headed to the bartop. Even if Mizu was who you’d wanted, being a one-night stand wasn’t what you wanted.
So, you walked back over to Taigen, beers in hand, and watched Mizu as you kissed him wide and dirty. Her glare a steely weight in your belly, and on your beating cunt.
You’d make Mizu yours, one way or another.
——-
Let’s make this a 2 parter. Poet mizu will have to wait. Thanks for the ask :)
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giveafike · 12 days ago
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kinda obsessed with the prompt of ben x fem tennis reader being together for a lil while and being the cutest couple , breaking up bc the distance hit them too hard after two straight months of different tournaments/locations, then seeing each other for the first time at a 1000 tournament, going out to dinner with the same group of people and end up going back to bens hotel room to clear the air and obvs end up in bed together realising they’re gonna have to get thru the distance cos they can’t be without each other now 😭
TLDR: tennisplayerfem!reader and ben break up bc you can't handle being away and then surprise, you can't handle being not together. Losers.
Word count + info: 10k. Am I mentally ill? This is supposed to be a blurb.. Dialogue (angst, texts, calls, conversation).
Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW! Breakup and kinda mean stuff said (nothing physical description wise). Otherwise, it's all good! (i think)
Azzie Notes ✚: SHOOT ME IN THE HEAD. AM I OKAY??? 10K?? ON A BLURB?? idrk what angst is fr chat lmk if i did that one fr idk....im a LOVER girl ok IDK HOW TO DO THIS SAD SHIT - in saying that, was part of my dialogue in this lwky..loosely based off of my ex...........maybe...
I fear I loved this prompt so bad and like...I love to yap..so...
Socials + Updates: twitter ( @azziegivesafike) - feel free to follow and msg me about non requests there, I'll be posting life updates, story + req updates and spoilers/teasers alongside other things, so it'd be nice to have a community over there!
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————————————————————————
Shattered - B.T.S.
In the beginning, being with Ben is the kind of whirlwind you've only seen in movies, a connection that feels so natural, yet thrillingly unexpected. Well, in hindsight, that might've been a lie. It wasn't exactly love at first sight, but instead, a slow, magnetic pull that drew you together, like the tension building in a long rally. You met on the circuit, both hungry, ambitious, and dedicated to your own success. But from the start, Ben had this way of getting past your disciplined, guarded exterior with that relentless charm of his.
He’s everywhere, it seems—posting highlights from your matches on his stories, sneaking your name into press conferences, tagging you in his silly “lazy Saturday” shots where your game is always playing in the background. He flirts shamelessly, flashing that grin across the court, his voice lifting over the crowd to make some cheeky comment that leaves you stifling laughter. Your friends see it before you do: Ben is crazy about you, and soon, so is everyone else.
He flirted shamelessly and relentlessly, everywhere and anywhere, often catching you off guard in ways that left you flustered despite your best efforts to stay cool and professional. With that, you started to look out for the way his eyes would find yours in a crowd while you sat in the stands during his matches or how he would nudge you at practice with that easy, casual touch like he’s done it a thousand times before; like you belong by his side.
Once, when he's asked in an interview if he’d dedicated his recent win to anyone, he grins and looks straight across the room, making everyone laugh. “There’s someone special right now, but no need to say names, she knows.”
It’s sweet, funny and more than a little bold. Later, when you called him out for it over one of your first late-night calls, he shrugged, entirely unapologetic, telling you with that stupid drawl of his, “What? Ain’t no point hidin’ it. The world knows who my lucky charm is.”
Soon, it was you reaching out for him, your hand slipping onto his arm, leaning against him during walkouts, letting your barriers fall. And every time he catches your eye, every time he manages to make you smile, he looks at you like he’s won the lottery. His heart stammers a little each time you shove him playfully or roll your eyes at his antics. Whether it was on the bench or during changeovers, Ben would rest his hand gently on your lower back, a touch that makes you feel, just for a moment, like you're the only two people in the world.
When the rare break in your schedules comes around, you steal hours together. You grab a coffee, turning a "quick run" into a day spent together and wander around a city you barely know, or stumble upon a hidden café with pastries too flowery for your tastes. He made everything feel easier, like no matter how intense life gets, you’ll always have that balance with him. Around Ben, you can be softer, and more vulnerable; he brings out a side of you that isn’t just about winning and competing but about laughing, sharing, and letting go.
People noticed the way you look at each other, the easy affection that passes between you, the more daring and intimate PDA, sharing kisses and lingering stares. Soon, fans were shipping you openly, posting photos of you courtside, or whispering to each other when you lean close and murmur something that makes him laugh. On tour, you’re one of those “it” couples, a little slice of joy in the relentless pace of your careers. And in those early days, you both believe that together, you can take on anything. In those early days, you believed you could take on anything together. You and Ben were partners, equals, and even in the midst of a gruelling season, there had always been time for him, always a reason to smile. It felt perfect, like a love story you had stumbled into but were both entirely committed to.
But that honeymoon phase comes crashing down real quick.
As seasons shift and tournaments stretch across continents, the cracks start to show. At first, it’s just a few hours difference, but then come the miles and oceans, and the texts dwindled, conversations cut short, replaced by more missed calls than made and vague apologies. You both had tried, in every way you knew how. But eventually, the memories weren’t enough to bridge the distance. You’d catch yourself staying up just to wait for his call after practice, only to fall asleep disappointed, staring at a dark screen. And every time you woke up to a hastily sent sorry, something came up text, it felt like another tiny fracture.
Ben wasn’t the only one caught up in the chaos of your schedules; you had your own demands, too. The strain went both ways. In an attempt to keep things alive, you’d push yourself to keep up with his time zone, adding another city to your Clock app, setting alarms accordingly to his lunch and dinner times, staying awake far too late, eyes heavy as you sat alone in your hotel room, scrolling through old photos just to feel closer to him. When the call finally did come, your voice was barely more than a whisper, tired and distant, and Ben couldn't bear the exhaustion in your tone, his heart aching as he hushed you to sleep, meaning neither of you would stay on long.
It all piled up slowly, almost imperceptibly, until the weight felt crushing. Conversations became one-sided, it’s like chasing the sun itself, moments of silence replacing the laughter that had once felt endless, and that spark, the one that made you feel unstoppable together, felt further away with every day that passed.
Then came the day of your match, a game that should have been easy, one you’d normally have breezed through. But you were dragging, exhaustion wrapping itself around your every heavy, drooping step, and somewhere in the depths of your mind, a bitter thought took root:
If only he cared.
You knew it wasn’t his fault, but still, the frustration boiled over. Would things have felt different if you weren’t so alone in this? If you didn’t have to wonder when, or if, he’d remember to call? If he scheduled calls to your time for once? If he could just postpone everything for 20, 20 measly minutes for you?
A ball zips right by you, snapping you back to reality.
Lying in your hotel room that night, you stared at the ceiling, replaying the best moments of your time together like an old movie reel. In those moments, it had felt perfect. You’d believed you could take on the world, side by side, partners in everything. But now, with miles and silence separating you, you wondered if those memories were all that was left of what you once had.
But even with that ache, even with the emptiness filling the room, one thing is clear as day: loving Ben, for all its messiness, for all the distance and loneliness, had never felt like a mistake but God, was it hard. You pondered on those same irritating thoughts that itched at you until your fingers found your phone and hit the FaceTime Call button. Part of you wanted him to not pick up, knowing that you had nothing kind or sweet to say, but a small part of you wanted to dish back what he deserved.
“Hey,” he greets, his voice tense, worn. His drawl feels distant like he’s talking to you from across an ocean.
“Hey.” You can feel the iciness in your voice, colder than you intended.
“Long day?” he asks, though his expression is already tense, wary.
“Yeah. Almost lost today,” you say flatly.
Ben’s gaze flicks down. “I saw the score,” he says, his voice cautious. “Guess it was a tough match, babe.”
“It shouldn’t have been,” you snap. “But maybe it’s hard to focus when I’m barely sleeping… or constantly waiting for a text that never comes.”
He blinks, his eyes narrowing. “So this is on me?” The familiar accent is a little rougher around the edges. “You’re losin’ matches ‘cause I’m not callin’ you enough? That’s what you’re sayin’?”
“Don’t play dumb, Ben. Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about” You feel the bitterness twisting in your chest. ““You’re barely here, Ben. Half the time, I don’t even know if we’re still together or if we’re just two people sending pointless messages every few hours. Half the time, it feels like I’m talking to a ghost.”
He lets out a frustrated laugh, shaking his head. “You think it’s any easier for me? I’ve got my own stuff, my own schedule, darlin'. I’ve got my career to think about too, you know, this ain't just about you.”
Your jaw tightens. “Yeah, well, at least when I'm on the court, I don’t exactly have the luxury of tuning you out, Ben. I’m not the one who forgets to call after saying I would. I don’t have time for half-assed texts and waiting around for you to call when you feel like it.”
“Oh, don’t go there,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. “You know what it’s like. The fans, the interviews, the time spent on court-”
“Yeah, I get it, Ben. But last week, you bailed on a call to go sign autographs. Priorities, right?”
He takes a deep breath, visibly holding back. “C’mon, babe, you don’t mean that.”
But you press on, unable to stop yourself. “You’re too busy with whatever ‘big thing’ you have going on, right? Maybe if you cared enough to focus on your game instead of your ‘commitments,’ you wouldn’t have dropped that finals match. Just maybe.”
He flinches, his expression turning dark. “Oh, that's low from you, Y/N. You really wanna go there?”
“Yeah, I do,” you say, your voice unwavering.
He pauses, his face hardening. “If you were out here on the ATP tour, you’d understand how rough it really is. You wouldn't even get past a challenger. It ain’t the same league as the WTA.”
You laughed, a cold, bitter sound. “Oh, don’t even start with that. Rougher than the WTA? Is that supposed to make me feel better? Maybe come and join WTA then, you wouldn't manage it out here either, Ben.”
He snaps, his voice cutting like a whip. “You know how much I’m fightin’ to make a name for myself out here. Just ‘cause you got a few more shiny titles doesn’t mean you get to talk down to me like this.”
The sting of his words hits like a slap. Your face flushes, a mix of anger and hurt bubbling up. “So, that’s it? Just because I’ve actually earned my success, I’m some kind of… what? Nag?”
“I didn’t say that,” he shot back, voice tight, his eyes narrowing as he looked away. “But maybe you’re doin’ too much. Bein’ all… dramatic, blamin’ me for stuff I got no control over.”
“Right, okay, so I’m being dramatic,” you scoff, your voice edged with sarcasm. “I’m the one asking for too much because I want something real, something you clearly can’t give.”
He laughs, bitter and raw. “Maybe you just want too damn much.”
You feel the tears prickling behind your eyes, but you clench your jaw, holding yourself together by sheer force of will. Your voice trembles as you speak, the words thick with a pain you can’t contain. “I just want you to care, Ben, or at least pretend to care and make it believable. I want you to care enough to be here when it matters. But you’re so wrapped up in yourself, you don’t even see it.”
His face hardens, his jaw set, but his eyes hold a flicker of something unspoken. “You think I don’t care? I’m out here pushin’ myself every day, for us, for this future we’re supposed to be building 'n shit. But it’s like no matter what I do, it ain’t enough for you.”
A sharp knock sounds from his end, followed by muffled voices. He glances away, then back at you, irritation flaring in his eyes. “Look, I gotta go. Dad’s waitin’ on me; he already gave me an extra ten minutes to talk.”
You feel your heart twist, an ache of disappointment settling in. “Oh, of course,” you mutter, your voice dripping with bitterness. “Go ahead. I’m sure your training’s way more important than anything I have to say.”
He turns back, his eyes blazing with frustration. “Maybe it is right now,” he spits. “Talkin’ to you like this, all it’s doin’ is makin’ things worse. We're not getting anywhere like this-”
The words cut deeper than you expect, and you can barely hold back the surge of anger and heartbreak choking you. “Fine. Go, then. At least one of us can prioritise something.”
He scoffs, shaking his head as he looks away. “You’re bein’ unfair, 'n you know it.”
“Am I?” you whisper, your voice tight and choked. “Or am I just done waiting for you to show up?”
You stare at each other, an endless silence stretching between you, sharp and seething, words too heavy to be unsaid. Then, with a frustrated shake of his head, he mutters, “I can’t do this right now. I’ll talk to you later. When you’re not actin’ like this.”
Before you could respond, he hung up, his face disappearing from your screen, leaving you alone with nothing but the cold light of your phone. Your hands shook as you stared at the blank screen, tears finally spilling over.
With trembling fingers, you took a breath, letting a cold, steely calm settle over you. You typed out a simple, blunt message, leaving no room for second-guessing, no room for soft words or explanations. Just the truth, as raw as you felt.
“We’re done. I can’t do this anymore, Ben. I’m sorry.”
Your thumb lingered for a second before hitting “send,” and as soon as the message went through, you blocked him on every platform, cutting off any way for him to respond, to apologise, to convince you otherwise.
But as you tossed your phone aside, a crack appeared in the calm you’d forced on yourself. The tears came suddenly, your breath hitching as a tidal wave of heartbreak surged through you. You buried your face in your hands, pressing your palms against your eyes as if you could somehow contain the emotions clawing their way to the surface. You tried to stay quiet, muffling the sound in the dark, but the weight was too much, every sob raw, grieving and heavy, pouring out the frustration, the loneliness, and the love you’d tried so hard to salvage.
By the time your tears subsided, you felt utterly drained, hollowed out in a way that made everything around you feel distant and surreal. The city lights flickered outside your window, the glow indifferent to the storm that had torn through you. And in that quiet, broken moment, with only the shadows as company, you lay there, letting the exhaustion seep through your bones until sleep claimed you.
When sleep finally came, it was restless, fractured. You tossed and turned, flashes of memories from better days with Ben haunting you, the sound of his laugh, the way he’d smile, gummy and wide, his nose scrunching with that easy confidence. You woke up more exhausted than when you’d closed your eyes, feeling like you hadn’t rested at all. But you forced yourself out of bed, pushing yourself through your pre-game routine, your emotions locked away, frozen under layers of determination.
As you walked onto the court, the crowd buzzed with excitement, but you barely registered it. You were a storm, calm on the surface but seething underneath. Every shot you took was hard and brutal, the ball slicing through the air with an intensity that made your opponent flinch, the impact echoing through the stadium. You played as if your life depended on it, your body moving with sharp, lethal precision.
Your serves were relentless, your groundstrokes vicious, each one faster, sharper, as if each shot were a way to expel the anger and hurt still simmering in your chest. The crowd murmured, noticing the shift in your energy, the way you were pushing yourself, almost recklessly. A couple of times, your shots zipped past your opponent’s hand, barely missing, almost daring her to try and reach for it - "try me". You were untouchable, unstoppable, playing like you had something to prove.
But there was no smile, no hint of joy in your movements, solely mechanical. The usual lightness in your footwork was gone, replaced by a cold, ruthless efficiency. You’d already decided: this match was yours. You weren’t here to give an inch, weren’t here to let any lingering emotions cloud your focus. The crowd might have wanted excitement, but you were giving them precision, a display of control and fury that left no room for doubt.
You won, of course. Your opponent barely had a chance. But as you walked off the court, sweat trickling down your brow, fists clenched, you felt no thrill in the victory. Just the dull ache that lingered, a hollow space where your lightness, your smile, used to be. The heat of the court only made your head throb. The applause faded into background noise as you strode away, head high, shoulders tense. You’d won, but it felt like a hollow victory. You had no one to text after your game, anyone to call you baby - you had done it to yourself, were you really that desperate for a man to validate you? You were sick of feeling this way, sick of the exhaustion, the anger, the loneliness that clung to you even after everything you’d given today. At least, for now, you’d proven something, to yourself, to him, even if he’d never know, or care.
In the month that followed, you threw yourself harshly into your schedule, determined to erase any trace of him from your routine, your heart. Matches, training, travel, interviews, photoshoots, more matches, each day bled into the next, filled with an almost mechanical sense of purpose. If you weren’t on the court, you were working out, perfecting your strokes, spending hours on serves and footwork. Anything to exhaust yourself to stop the thoughts from lingering too long. Your routine was relentless, your focus razor-sharp.
But even in this frenzy, despite it all, reminders of him still slipped through. You’d scroll through social media, and every so often, an ATP post would pop up: Ben at a tournament, Ben celebrating a point, Ben grinning with that easy charm that used to make your heart ache. He looked different now. His curls were longer, spilling out from over his sweaty headband, and his frame had hardened, leaner, with muscle that seemed to outline his strength in sharper lines. His chubby cheeks had slimmed down into something harder, replaced by the quiet confidence of someone who’d grown, adapted, maybe even suffered a little.
And you could almost feel it, the quaking, gaping pain of missing him, but you’d swallow it back down, pull yourself together, and look away.
Your own press conferences became something else entirely. You were more composed, a bit sharper with your words, confident in a way you hadn’t been before. Where you used to smile shyly or laugh softly, now you leaned in with humour, a hint of flirtation, your charm more self-assured. You handled reporters’ questions deftly, especially the ones that tried to pry about Ben. The same questions came up over and over:
“So, do you still keep in touch with Ben?”
Each time, you’d respond with a practised, cool smile. “Right now, I’ve got all the support I need from my team and the people I have with me.” You’d turn the conversation to your work, your skill, and your grind on the court, dismissing the topic with subtle elegance, always steering it back to your goals, your game, and your people.
Yet, away from the cameras, the facade cracked, if only slightly. Sometimes, after a long match or a particularly brutal day of training, you’d find yourself scrolling through your old photos or feeling tears prickling your eyes, this messy situation taking a bigger toll than you would like to admit.
In his hotel room, Ben watched your interviews alone, a faint crease between his brows. There you were, in all your brilliance, flashing a confident smile at the camera, handling the press with a wit and boldness that felt both familiar and strange. He could see the way you’d grown, the way you’d steeled yourself, and it stirred something in him, a pang he couldn’t ignore. It was like watching someone he knew intimately and yet… not at all. The way you answered questions about him, and your subtle redirection to your career and team, it stung. Maybe it was petty, but he missed the way you used to talk about him with such pride, with that lovestruck glow. He loved seeing how shy you would get at the sheer mention of his name. Your hair was different, your skin glowing, you had more confidence, even if it came off a bit cocky but he still felt like you were his, just as much as he was yours. Ben didn’t know how to reach out, didn’t know what he’d even say. There was a distance now, both physical and emotional, that seemed impossible to bridge. He’d scroll through his own phone sometimes, finding old messages, ones before distance got the better of you both, photos of the two of you, half-written scripts in his Notes app he couldn’t bring himself to deliver. If he flew out tonight to you, what would he even do after? He’d think of calling you, of reaching out somehow, but the memory of your last fight, the bitterness in your voice, the way you’d shut him out… it held him back.
One evening, as you sat alone in the players' lounge, your forehead pressed against the back of the sofa, you felt that familiar ache pulse through you, the one that came every time you thought of him. It was then that Coco came by, her familiar, steady presence filling the room as she settled down across from you, cross-legged on the seat in front of you. Over the past year, it was Ben that introduced you but, you and Coco had grown even closer, bound not just by shared victories and losses but by the pressures only someone like her could truly understand.
Coco tilted her head, her gaze warm but unwavering. “Alright,” she said, cutting through the silence. “What’s really going on? Are you… over him?”
You exhaled slowly, running a hand through your hair as you tried to gather your thoughts. “I wish I could say yes,” you murmured. “I’ve tried. I’ve tried to move on, focus on the game, on everything else, but… he’s still everywhere. Even when I’m doing well, even when I’m focused, it’s like… something’s missing.” Your voice dropped to barely a whisper. “It’s like I can’t fully shake him.”
Coco nodded, her expression both sympathetic and knowing. “I get it. You two had something real, something intense. But maybe this time apart is what you both need. I mean, look at you. You’re stronger now, on and off the court. Maybe that’s part of this whole journey, you know?”
You managed a faint smile, though your heart still felt heavy. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. It just… doesn’t always feel like enough.”
She reached out, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Trust me. If he’s the right guy, he’ll figure it out, too. Until then? Focus on your game. Focus on you.”
Her words stayed with you, offering a small but steady comfort in the days that followed. You have been throwing yourself into training, pouring everything into the sport, trying to find solace in each match and each moment of growth. Somewhere out there, he was doing the same, and maybe, just maybe, this was what was best.
But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t completely smother the small spark of hope, that someday, somehow, your paths might cross again.
It was similar in the men’s locker room, Ben slumped forward on the bench, his elbows propped on his knees as he stared blankly at the floor, holding an uncapped bottle of water. Frances Tiafoe, who’d been eyeing him from across the room, exchanged a knowing glance with Taylor Fritz before making his way over.
“Alright, bro, spill it,” Frances said, tossing a towel over his shoulder as he leaned in. “You’ve been lookin’ like you’re living in some sad dog for weeks.”
Ben gave him a sidelong glance. “There’s nothin’ to talk about.”
Taylor rolled his eyes as he joined them, settling down on the other side of Ben. “Come on, man. We’re not blind. Ever since she blocked you, you’ve been… different.”
Ben scoffed, looking away, his voice low. “She didn’t just block me, man. She… she threw down, real hard. Said some things I thought she’d never say.”
Frances let out a low whistle. “Was that rough, huh?”
“Yeah,” Ben said, rubbing a hand over his face, his frustration mingling with regret. “It all just blew up. We were on a call, talkin’ like usual, and suddenly… it was like everything we hadn’t said just came out. She starts throwin’ things at me about how I’m not there, like… like I don’t care enough or not workin' hard enough. And it pissed me off, you know? I work just as hard, and it’s not like I’m sittin’ around, right?”
Taylor nodded, leaning back against the lockers. “So, what’d you do?”
Ben shrugged, his expression pained. “I pushed back, told her she couldn’t keep actin’ like she’s the only one workin’ for this. Told her ATP is just as tough, maybe even more competitive. Didn’t mean it that way, but she took it wrong. She thought I was tryin’ to downplay her game.”
Frances shook his head, giving Ben a sympathetic look. “Man, she must’ve felt hurt.”
“Yeah,” Ben muttered, a bitter laugh escaping him. “And next thing I know, I get this text. ‘This isn’t workin', we’re done.’ Blocked me on everything. Cold as ice, man. It’s like she flipped a switch, just… shut me out completely, as easy as shuttin' a door.”
Frances gave him a gentle nudge. “You still care about her?”
Ben’s gaze softened, a faint smile breaking through his frustration. “Yeah, man. She’s… she’s my girl. Even if she’s not my girl right now, you know?”
Taylor chuckled, nodding. “So, what’re you gonna do about it? Sit around here moping, or actually make a move?”
Ben sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “What am I supposed to do? She’s made it pretty clear she’s done with me.”
Frances grinned, crossing his arms. “Bro, just ‘cause she blocked you and sent a text after you called her game easy, doesn’t mean it’s over. She’s mad, yeah, but she’s probably missin’ you just as much. You just gotta show her you’re willin’ to do what it takes.”
Taylor nodded in agreement, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “And it doesn’t have to be some big romantic gesture, man. Sometimes, it’s the small things. Something to let her know you’re still thinkin’ of her, still care. You know where we're at next, right?”
Ben chuckled, shaking his head. “And do what? Just show up at her hotel room? She’s liable to call cops on my ass for that shit, bro.”
Frances laughed, shrugging. “So what? At least she’ll know you tried! Don't go doin' that though. Look, I’ve been with my girl for years now, and sometimes, you gotta be willing to look like a fool to show her you care.”
Ben leaned back, their words sinking in. He could still feel the sting of the things she’d said, the accusations she’d thrown at him like he didn’t care, didn’t work just as hard. But he couldn’t deny that he’d made mistakes, too. He’d let his pride get in the way, said things he regretted, and let the frustration of it all get the better of him.
Frances nudged him again, his grin widening. “Think about it, man. You got two choices: sit here, feeling sorry for yourself until she finds some other guy, or actually do something about it and get her back, even if that means standing in the rain with a fuckin' speaker.”
Ben finally cracked a smile, looking between his friends. “Y’all are ridiculous.”
“Hey, maybe,” Taylor said with a shrug. “But at least we got girlfriends. And you? You got a chance to get yours back. Just gotta decide if she’s worth it.”
Ben sat there, mulling over their words as a new determination started to burn within him. Maybe he didn’t have all the answers, and maybe there was a lot he’d have to figure out. But if there was even a chance to fix things, to bridge that gap that felt so wide, he wasn’t about to let his pride hold him back.
As he left the locker room that night, he felt a resolve solidify within him. He’d find a way to reach out, to let her know that no matter how far apart they were, she was still the one he wanted. Because when it came down to it, she was worth every bit of the fight.
A week went by before a 1000 game flew in, and both ATP and WTA were present if not, nearby for the games. You couldn't care less what was at stake, anything was a win if it kept you occupied. The courts were almost empty, shadows lengthening as the sun beamed high above. You bounced the ball steadily, the rhythm calm, your focus laser-sharp. The only sounds were the muted thud of your shoes on the court, and your breath falling into sync with the beat of your earbuds. Nothing but you, the court, and the quiet.
But then, that voice broke through.
"Aw, c'mon, man!" A laugh, deep and full of that unmistakable Southern drawl. Your grip faltered, the ball hovering mid-toss. That laugh, it was a sound you hadn’t let yourself think about for months, one that held too much of him.
Ben.
Your pulse jolted, the memories flooding back, warmth and bitterness tangled in the knots of your chest. You gritted your teeth, tossing the ball high before slamming it against the court, the crack of impact sharp in the quiet. It almost felt satisfying, like you could obliterate the tension he brought, shatter it with sheer force.
Almost.
You readied another serve, the ball bouncing harder than necessary as you forced yourself not to look. But you could feel his gaze, that familiar weight of his eyes lingering on you. The pull was magnetic, almost maddening, and despite every ounce of resolve you’d built up, your gaze betrayed you, slipping over to catch a glimpse of him.
Ben, laughing with Taylor, curls tousled longer than before, his hoodie slung carelessly over those familiar, ridiculous short shorts. The same hoodie you'd worn too many times to count, drowning in its warmth during late-night snack runs and lazy Sundays. The sight tugged painfully, a cruel reminder of the little things you’d pushed down, tried to forget.
He caught you looking, and his laughter faded, his gaze holding yours for just a second too long. You gripped the ball tighter, the ache settling heavy, and forced yourself to turn away, channelling the flurry of memories into another sharp serve, a fierce crack reverberating across the court. You didn’t look back again.
Hours later, your body was tired, your mind a bit clearer. You were scrolling through your phone in the lounge, zoning out, when Coco dropped down beside you with that familiar, mischievous grin.
"Hey, you!" She nudged you, hands on her hips.
You eyed her warily. "What’s up, Coco? Awfully perky for...5:30p.m."
“We’re having dinner tonight. Big group. Wanna come?” Her tone was casual, a little too casual.
Your guard went up immediately as you dropped your phone to your lap. “Who’s ‘we all’?”
Coco shrugged, twirling a loose curl around her finger. “Me, Frances, Arthur… maybe another WTA girl or two. Just a fun little dinner. Nothing formal.”
You narrowed your eyes, reading the glint of mischief in hers. "Coco, don’t mess with me. He's not gonna be there, right?"
She tilted her head, pretending to look innocent, but the sly smile gave her away. "Well… he might show up, but that's on his own accord. I didn't mention anything to Ben and it’s not like anyone’s setting anything up! It’s just dinner."
Your stomach twisted, a sigh slipping from your lips as you looked away. “I don’t think so. Not after… everything.” Your voice softened the weight of old arguments and unsaid things hanging between the words.
Coco’s face softened, her hand finding your shoulder. “Look, I’m not saying you have to sit next to him or anything. It’s a big table. You can stay on the opposite end and ignore him if that’s what you need. But everyone misses you, it’s been ages since we all got together. We all need to see your pretty face off the court too, ya know?”
You hesitated, rolling your eyes, the ache of missing them settling somewhere deep, the sense of family you hadn’t felt in months tugging at you. After a long pause, you finally nodded, rolling your shoulders back as if bracing for a match. “Fine. But I’m serious, Coco, no funny business. If he starts anything, I’m out.”
Coco grinned, throwing her arm around you. “Girl, trust me. If anything, you’ll be giving him the funny looks. Just friends, no drama. Now, let’s go get you out of those sweats.”
Meanwhile, in the locker room across the court, Ben was doing his best to act indifferent as Frances nudged him for the third time.
"C'mon, man!" Frances said, leaning against the lockers with a knowing grin. "So you are coming to this dinner tonight, right? Don't make me beg again, I'll start singing.”
Ben tried to play it cool, leaning back with his arms crossed. “I don’t know, man. You really think it’s a good idea?”
Frances rolled his eyes. “Look, you’ve been moping for months. She’s not gonna make a scene in public, and especially not with all of us, and who knows? Maybe she’ll talk to you, be all civil. It’s worth a shot.”
Ben let out a huff, rubbing the back of his neck. “Civil? You remember the last time we spoke, right? She has me blocked on everything.”
Taylor, stretching nearby, smirked and chimed in. “Man, you got nothin’ to lose. At the very least, you’ll see her. I saw how you were after you caught a glimpse of her training earlier. Besides, Frances and Coco will keep her from killin’ you.”
“Kay, thanks,” Ben muttered, though a flicker of hope sparked under the sarcasm. He didn’t want to admit it, but he couldn’t shake the longing to see her again, to maybe fix even a sliver of what had been broken.
Taylor nudged him, grinning. “Hey, listen, if I wasn’t taking Morgan out tonight, I’d be there just for moral support. But hey, maybe next time it’ll be a double date. Me, you, Morgan and your soon-to-be girlfriend, just like old times.”
Ben shook his head, the thought both terrifying and oddly thrilling. “You’re jokin’, right? She’d probably throw her drink at me before she’d sit through a double date.”
“Only if you act like an idiot,” Frances pointed out, laughing. “Just be yourself, man. You can handle the heat on the court, you can handle this. And maybe tonight’ll be the thing that finally breaks the ice.”
Ben sighed, running a hand over his face before finally surrendering. “Alright, alright. Fine. I’ll go. But Frances, don’t expect me to be all… chatty.”
Frances clapped him on the back, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. “Yeah, you say that now. But I know how you get around her, man. Just don’t chicken out. Remember, we got your back.”
Ben couldn’t help but smile nervously, feeling a strange mix of dread and anticipation tighten in his chest. He wasn’t sure if this dinner would be a chance at redemption or just a painful reminder of how far they’d drifted, but one thing was clear, he was tired of hiding from whatever was left between them.
You walk into the restaurant and let Coco lead you to a long table, feeling an odd mix of nerves and determination fluttering in your stomach. Your outfit is cute but simple, just a sweater and leggings; just enough effort to feel put together without trying too hard. You take a seat between Coco and Arthur Fils, with Frances across from you. There’s an empty chair across from Arthur, and for some reason, that empty space makes your heart beat a little faster, feeling torn between wanting and avoiding Ben there.
As everyone settles in, you catch Coco’s eye and mutter, “Please tell me he’s not actually coming.” She just shrugs with an easy smile.
Moments later, as the group banters along, about to order drinks, Ben strolls in, catching you entirely off-guard. He’s slightly out of breath, apologising to the group with that familiar grin, explaining he’s late because he’d just finished showering after practice. You can’t help it, you nudge Coco under the table, whispering through gritted teeth, a frustrated, “Great.”
Coco just gives him a casual greeting, and you force yourself to turn back to the table, focusing your attention on ordering a glass of wine, pretending not to notice him as he takes that empty seat across from Arthur, just barely within your view, diagonally. But as he sits down, you feel his eyes on you, and for a brief moment, you glance up and catch him staring, his face almost dazed.
You’re caught off-guard by the look in his eyes. His breath seems to hitch, his big brown eyes wide and you can see a faint blush creeping up his neck as he stares at you, almost like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again. There’s a softness in his expression that you weren’t prepared for, a kind of awe that makes your stomach twist with memories and longing. But just as quickly, you look away, turning your attention to your wine as Frances elbows Ben with a teasing hiss, “Be normal, man.”
Throughout the night, you manage to keep to yourself, mostly talking to the other WTA players or Arthur whenever he cracks a joke. You keep Ben at the edge of your vision, resolute in ignoring the way his gaze keeps drifting back to you.
Every once in a while, Ben attempts to draw you into the conversation, maybe a lighthearted comment or a direct question, but each time, you meet his gaze with a steely look, making it clear with just one glance that you’re not interested. When he tries again, you let your eyes meet his for a moment, long enough to show him you’re serious before turning away, cutting off his effort entirely, almost to say "not interested". Across the table, Frances raises his brows, murmuring with a barely hidden smirk, “Damn, she is good at this,” as Ben slouches slightly, clearly trying not to look embarrassed.
As dinner winds down, the plates are cleared away, and you excuse yourself to the bathroom, needing a moment alone. Inside, you take a deep breath, facing yourself in the mirror. You’d been bracing yourself for tonight, but nothing quite prepared you for how it would feel to see him sitting right there, looking at you with those big sweet brown eyes and a pout, filled with that same soft pleading that used to make you melt.
But tonight, all it did was remind you of those late nights waiting by your phone, checking it over and over for messages that came slower and slower until they just…stopped. It reminds you of the countless hours wondering if you mattered as much as you thought you did, replaying his empty promises and half-hearted reassurances that seemed to fade with each passing day. He couldn't expect you to take him back with a pout and some half-assed joke. But damn, was it a good attempt, he knew how to make you crumble, even if it wasn't his sole intention.
You force yourself to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear as you look in the bathroom mirror examining yourself with a sigh, applying a bit of lip balm with fingers that tremble just slightly. Anything to distract yourself, to remind yourself that you’re strong enough to face this without breaking, reminding yourself to keep that mask on. You straighten your posture, determined to push all those memories back down where they belong, buried.
But just as you step out of the bathroom, Ben is standing right there, leaning against the wall as if he’d been waiting for you. His eyes soften the moment they meet yours, and he opens his mouth, his voice just a whisper. “Can we…talk? Just the two of us?”
The look he gives you, hopeful, no, desperate, stirs something deep inside you, and you clench your jaw, wanting to say no, wanting to walk away without a second thought. But as much as you’d like to ignore it, part of you still aches for some kind of closure, maybe even just one honest conversation.
With a reluctant sigh, you nod. “Fine. Outside.”
As you head out the restaurant’s door, you quickly fire off a text to Coco:
me n Ben talking outside. brb.
You stuff your phone back into your bag, clutching it tightly to your shoulder as you step into the cool night air. Wrapping your arms under your chest, you try to keep yourself shielded from more than just the chilling breeze.
Ben falls into step beside you, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. There’s a moment of silence as you both find your footing, the quiet thick with everything that’s been left unsaid. You glance sideways, catching him opening his mouth like he’s about to say something, only to close it, his shoulders shifting awkwardly.
“So… how’s the tournament going for you?” he starts, his tone casual, a little too casual.
You blink, trying not to roll your eyes, feeling the irritation growing. Really? But you bite back and just sternly say, “Ben.”
He rubs the back of his neck, glancing up at the streetlights overhead. “Sorry, yeah, that was- uh, okay.” He lets out a breath and shuffles closer, his voice almost a murmur. “I just… I wanna make this right. Another chance- Just thought maybe… you know, talkin’ would be easier if…”
“Ben, stop.” You sigh, tightening your grip on your bag strap. “Stop being weird. Just… just say what you have to say, and let’s get this over with. Let's not make this longer than it needs to be, I've got shit to do tomorrow.”
He glances at you, brows knitting together. For a second, he looks almost frustrated, like he’s holding back something sharper, something rougher. But he lets it pass, letting out a long, resigned breath. “Fine. I’ll just ask one thing.”
You arch an eyebrow, scepticism thick in your voice. “One question. Shoot.”
His voice comes out softer, edged with a hesitant curiosity as if he knows it’s a stupid question but can’t help but ask. “What hotel you stayin’ at?”
You let out a dry chuckle, shaking your head. “The Merrion.”
His eyes widen slightly, a small, stupid smile breaking on his face. “No way… me too.”
You sigh, looking up at the night sky, feeling the inevitability of whatever this night is becoming. Of course, he’s at the same hotel. Only Ben could make the universe align like this. And only Ben would think of a stupid question like that. He shifts his weight, stepping closer, his gaze steady.
“Look,” he starts, “it’s just a short walk back, twenty minutes or so. Just… give me that time. Just enough to walk back. Let me talk. And then you can go to your room and go to bed. How 'bout it?”
There’s a hopeful edge in his voice that you can’t ignore, and for a moment, your resolve falters. It’s ridiculous, this is exactly the sort of thing he would come up with, some half-baked plan to get you to keep listening, to keep him around just a little longer. You want to roll your eyes, to brush him off, but something about the way he’s looking at you, those earnest, brown eyes so damn full of longing, makes you sigh.
“Fine,” you mutter. “But if you get weird again, I’m out. No small talk, you know how much I hate it.”
A small grin creeps onto his face, and he falls into step beside you, a little closer than necessary, his arm brushing against yours as you start down the quiet street. For a minute, he doesn’t say anything, just walks alongside you, letting the silence settle around you both. But then, in that familiar southern drawl, his voice comes softer.
“Y’know, I've been thinkin’ ‘bout us a lot… probably more than I should.”
You keep your eyes on the sidewalk ahead, willing yourself to stay unmoved. “And?”
He swallows, his gaze tracing your profile, softening with each word. “I messed up,” he admits. “I know I did. I shoulda… been there more, answered more, I dunno. Shoulda been better at handlin’ it.”
You nod slightly, keeping your face blank. “Mhm, you should've.”
There’s a flicker of frustration in his expression, but he doesn’t let it throw him off. “You think I didn’t feel it too? That whole time, it felt like- hell, like I was losin’ you, like somethin’ was slippin’ right outta my hands, and I couldn’t do nothin’ to stop it.”
You feel the tension in your shoulders loosen just a fraction, though you keep your arms folded as a kind of armour. His words settle into the silence, raw and rough, and you can feel him glancing over, waiting for some kind of response. But you keep your gaze forward, biting back the little stirrings of emotion that are beginning to creep in.
He keeps talking, voice low and steady, drawing you in without giving you a chance to look away. “I’m not tryin’ to make excuses, alright? I know I coulda tried harder. But it’s like… the more I tried, the harder it got. The distance, the time zones, the schedules… it all just made me feel like I couldn’t keep up. And I just didn't know how to juggle it and that's my fault.”
You shake your head slightly, finally glancing over at him, the faintest of smirks tugging at the corner of your mouth. “So this is your way of apologising?”
He laughs, a little sheepish. “Guess I’m not real good at it, huh?” He nudges you with his shoulder, a familiar, easy gesture that makes your arms slowly loosen. His hand brushes your arm, just for a second, and a warmth blooms where his fingers graze your skin as if your body’s memory of him can’t help but respond.
“Look,” he says, his voice dipping softer, “I just… I miss you so much. Like hell.”
The honesty in his tone hits you hard, unravelling the cold exterior you’ve worked so hard to keep up. He keeps his eyes on you, watching your face carefully as if gauging your reaction. You feel your resolve slipping even more, your arms slowly falling to your sides, your heart aching as you fight against the wave of warmth that’s threatening to break through.
“Ben…” you start, barely a whisper, but you don’t know what to say, feeling torn.
He moves a little closer, his eyes wide, pleading, like he’s trying to hold onto every inch of you he can. “I know I messed up, okay? But I don’t wanna lose you. Not for good. Please, Y/N. Give me one more chance, you won't regret it 'n if I fuck up bad, you can do whatever, however; I deserve it but please. Just one more chance.”
You press your lips tight together, feeling your heart tighten as his words sink in, as he stands there looking at you with that same vulnerability you’d once fallen in love with. For a second, you forget the hurt, the sleepless nights, and you’re left with just him, the version of him that’s open, sincere, the Ben you’d once held so close.
The walk to the hotel stretches out as he keeps talking, spilling out and laying his heart bare with that easy, boyish charm that only he can pull off, and little by little, you feel your icy exterior start to melt. He talks about his time away from you, how he admired you from videos, watched highlight reels, his endless hours at night going through photos and texts; the whole lot. He cracks a joke, and despite yourself, you smile, trying to hide it but failing. He nudges you again, grinning as he sees the hint of laughter breaking through your guard.
He apologises over and over, more earnestly each time, his voice steady and low, and you can hear the regret, the guilt, the need to make things right. By the time you reach the hotel entrance, you’re feeling something dangerously close to hope, your heart betraying you, making it harder and harder to keep up the facade.
You glance over at him, catching the way his eyes soften as he looks at you as if you’re the only thing he can see. He’s staring, the blush from earlier creeping back up his neck, and when his hand brushes yours one last time, you don’t pull away.
You stand just outside the hotel, a faint chill brushing past as the streetlights cast a warm glow around you. You shift on your feet, glancing up at him, your eyes soft but determined.
“Can I talk?” you ask, breaking the quiet, your voice barely above a whisper. The first thing you had actually said this entire time.
Ben raises an eyebrow, leaning in with a playful smirk. “Talk? What else have we been doin’ for the last twenty minutes, girl?”
You roll your eyes and reach out to smack his arm, earning a chuckle from him. “Fine then. Can we go up to your room?” you add, a small, daring smile tugging at your lips.
Ben’s eyebrow quirks higher. “My room, huh?” His gaze narrows, teasing you with that familiar glint. “What exactly ya got planned, sweetheart?”
You swat him again, harder this time, and he laughs, raising his hands in mock defence. But then you drop the smile, your voice softer. “I wanna talk about what I did, Ben. I messed up too.”
The teasing fades from his expression as he studies your face, searching. After a pause, he nods and gestures toward the lobby. “Alright, then. Let’s go talk.”
In the elevator, silence hangs thick in the air, tension as familiar as it is unspoken. You don't even notice, spending your time stilling your breath and running through everything you want to apologise for. When you reach his room, you head over to the small couch by the window and settle in, tucking your legs under you and giving him a steady look.
“Ya gettin’ comfortable already?” he jokes, leaning against the wall, his eyes dancing with that old spark that makes you ache.
You try not to smile, steeling yourself for your confessional. “Can you be serious for a minute?”
His smile fades as he walks over, sitting across from you, his gaze intense and focused. You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything you’ve held back.
“I shouldn’t have put so many expectations on you,” you begin, your voice wavering. “You’ve got your own life, your own competitions, your own dreams. All this constant travelling, the different time zones… it’s not fair to expect you to be there every time I needed you at the drop of a hat. You get burnt out too- God. I never even asked how you were before I'd launch into my own day.”
You bite your lip, blinking back tears as they start to blur your vision. “I should’ve known better. I should’ve been more understanding, given you more grace.” Your voice catches, barely a whisper now. “And what I said… on that call… it was cruel, Ben. I was mean and unfair, and you didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve any of it. At all. I wouldn't want myself back after all I had said and done.”
As a tear slips down your cheek, Ben’s face softens, and he reaches out without hesitation, his hands cupping your face as he brushes the tear away. His thumb lingers on your skin, his gaze is unwavering, and then he leans forward, pressing the gentlest kiss to your temple, another to your forehead, and a final one at the crown of your head, his hand resting tenderly against your hair.
You let out a shuddered breath, your hands covering his as you finally let everything pour out. “I miss you so much,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “I miss everything about you… the way you laugh, your ridiculous voice…” Another tear rolls down, and you don’t try to hold back. “I miss the way you’d talk about cars or food for ages, and you’d make everything feel so normal, even when my life was a mess. Without you, it’s like this haze I can’t shake. I just… I miss you. I barely recognise myself these days.”
Your body shakes with the sobs you’ve tried so hard to bury, and Ben doesn’t hesitate. He pulls you close, wrapping you in his arms like he could shield you from all the pain, all the regret. He holds you there, one hand smoothing over your hair, his lips pressing soft, tender kisses to your forehead and cheeks, murmuring gentle words against your skin.
“S’all right, darlin’,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m here. I’m right here with you.”
You cling to him, burying your face into the crook of his neck, as his hands trace soothing circles along your back. Your sobs gradually quiet, but your breaths are still shaky, each exhale unsteady.
“I’m so sorry, Ben,” you manage, voice barely audible.
He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Hey now,” he murmurs, his tone warm and grounding. “We both made mistakes. Ain’t just on you, alright? Takes two to mess up, but it takes two to fix it too. We can fix, can't we?”
You nod, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, feeling a little of the weight lift, softened by his words.
Ben tilts your head to hold your gaze, his own eyes glassy. “Can’t tell ya how many times I thought about callin’ ya or flying to ya,” he admits, his voice low. “How many times I’d pull up your name, wonderin’ what you’d say if I told ya all the things I wished I’d said. But I was… hell, I was scared, darlin’. Thought maybe I’d screwed up too bad, and you’d moved on.”
You shake your head, a small, breathy laugh escaping. “I couldn’t...I could never.”
He strokes your hair gently, his lips brushing your forehead once more. “Guess we’re both a couple of fools then, huh?”
You laugh softly, the sound wet and trembling as he pulls you back into his arms. You lean into him, letting yourself feel the warmth of his embrace, the steady beat of his heart, grounding you. Wrapped in the quiet, tangled together, you both hold on a little tighter, feeling the rawness of your honesty and the comfort of finally, finally being close again. In the safety of his arms, you feel, for the first time in so long, a sense of peace, letting the unspoken words settle around you like a quiet promise.
Ben’s hand rests on your cheek, his thumb tracing small circles as he learns your face all over again, making your heart flutter. His fingers move slowly, grazing down to your jaw, then up again, threading into your hair. You let your eyes close for a moment, his gentle touch working its way through the tension of the night, and a small, contented sigh escapes you. For the first time in weeks, you feel relaxed and content.
“Gettin’ comfortable, huh?” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, though there’s a warmth in his eyes that wasn’t there before. He leans in, giving one final push to a stray strand of your hair before tilting his head toward the bed across the room. “C’mon, darlin’. This couch is barely holdin’ us together.”
You hesitate, but Ben’s already moving, holding out his hand as he stands up. His grip is strong, guiding you as you follow him to the bed, and he lets out a soft chuckle as you settle beside him. His arm drapes around you, pulling you close as you lean into him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against you. The warmth is so consuming, cocooning you immediately.
Ben smiles down at you, a playful glint in his eye, and as his fingers find your hair again, he starts twirling a strand between his fingers. “So,” he murmurs, resting his cheek on the top of your head, “ya still gonna keep me blocked, huh?”
You roll your eyes, smirking. “Fine,” you reply, unlocking your phone with a playful huff. You find his name, well, technically his new contact name since you’d deleted him in a fit of anger, and type a single white heart emoji, pressing send.
The vibration of his phone buzzes beside him, and he pulls it out with a grin, holding up the glowing screen. “There it is. Knew ya couldn’t resist me,” he says, laughing as he pulls you in close as he kisses your temple.
But just as you relax against him, you notice a missed notification. It’s a text from Coco, her reply to your earlier message asking where she’d disappeared to after dinner. You hesitate, then, instead of texting back, you tap the Facetime icon, feeling a strange urge to share this quiet moment, finding words couldn't suffice, nor were you in the mood to type out a lengthy paragraph.
The call connects, and Coco’s face appears, a gasp escaping her as she spots you two tangled up in Ben’s bed, nestled together with his arm around you.
“Oh my god! Yes!” she cheers, loud enough to make Ben chuckle. You hear laughter and cheers in the background too, and Coco turns the camera, revealing the whole dinner table watching with knowing smiles.
"Coco, this was a set-up plan, huh?" you giggle as you see the entire friend group on the other end.
"Somewhat, but blame Morgan and Taylor, not me. They did all that," she throws the blame as she points the camera over to them. Frances, Morgan and Taylor wave and Frances yells “Look at Ben! Already got her in bed, huh?”
Ben rolls his eyes, but a faint blush colours his cheeks. He pulls you closer, his hand resting protectively around your shoulders as he grins.
“Hey now,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “This one’s special. Ain’t like any other. My lucky charm.”
You feel your heart skip a beat at his words, and you’re so focused on him that you barely notice Coco and the others making gagging noises before Ben reaches out, ending the call on your phone with a smirk. Then he turns back to you, his eyes soft, filled with something that feels dangerously like forever.
He leans in, his lips finding yours in a kiss that’s slow and tender, each second lingering with quiet promises. And in the warmth of his arms, your heart finally feels at home, exactly where it belongs.
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nekohime19 · 2 months ago
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🌟Neko Shadowpeach Au Guide!🌟
I have so many Shadowpeach Au I can't even 😭
This post is mainly for me to organize myself bc I'm beginning to have a lot of ideas for Au, and a lot of Au in general and I need to write that somewhere or I'm gonna get lost, 😌.
But also it's to let you guys know about future Au I would probably write and see if you like them.
Of course if you guys have any questions about any of my Au's, even the unpublished one, feel free to ask, 😁.
alright here we go :
Published
Monkeys silly love life :
Summary : Macaque never met the great sage, nor the brotherhood, he simply lived like a hermit until his lantern was stolen by a thrall. He finds himself coming to Megapolis in search of his lantern, there he meets MK, his friends and one particularly insistent golden-furred monkey who seems keen on flirting with him despite the Lady Bone Demon taking over the world.
Fic : series of three fic on Ao3
Who said you can't flirt in an apocalypse?
Monkeys discovering the wide world of dating.
I know the world is ending but will you marry me?
Status : all fics completed
Vibe : fluff and humor
Heart behind the lie :
Summary : Sun Wukong's mind is severely damaged by the Lady Bone Demon's possession, leading him to act like a beast. Macaque being the only person he trusts in this state, he is designated as his babysitter. Macaque refuses at first but then finds himself needing magic to survive and decides to accept being a babysitter to better steal Sun Wukong's magic. He might became more attached than he planned for.
Fic : fic on Ao3 + being re-published on Tumblr with two chapters a day
Status : uncompleted
Vibe : emotional angst, feels and fluff
Publishing day : At least once a week
Tumblr tag (including fanarts /answers /memes /chapters) : Heart behind the lie
Mini Mac :
Summary : One day Sun Wukong discovers that a little black-furred monkey had been living in the walls of his stone mansion and decides to befriend him. Problem is, the little black-furred beauty is not keen on deepening his relationship with him, thus the sage has to gain his trust first.
Fic : one fic on Tumblr and Ao3
Status : uncompleted
Vibe : fluff, humor and very light angst
Publishing day : Two to three chapters a week
Tumblr tag (including memes / answers / fanarts/chapters) : Mini Mac au
Bimawen :
Summary : What if Heaven actually gave weight to the title of Bimawen and treated Sun Wukong with respect, even if reluctant? Sun Wukong would have never gone on a rampage and quietly taken care of the horses. Years after Sun Wukong has taken his horsley duties Heaven found another celestial monkey, the Six-eared Macaque causing mayhem in the mortal world. The macaque is judged and if he wants to avoid his execution, he has to become the bimawen's assistant. The problem is the monkeys don't really like each other.
Fic : one on Ao3 and Tumblr
Status : uncompleted
Vibe : fluff, humor and feels / JTTW oriented
Publishing day : Once to twice a month (often more bc I'm inspired)
Tumblr tag (including memes / fanarts / answers / chapters) : Bimawen au
Share my glow (co-writing with Pen-Women)
Summary : Macaque never met Wukong in his life. He is known as the Shadow Weaver, a mysterious entity who guides the one lost in the night. His lantern is the last artifact LBD needs to complete her mech and take over the world. When his forest is frozen by the Thrall he has no choice but to follow a troublesome team of heroes with a particularly flirty Monkey King.
Fic : one in Ao3
Status : uncompleted
Vibe : fluff and angst / ABO
Publishing day : Once a week (every Sunday)
AITA for sleeping with the guy my girlfriend is cheating on me with? :
Summary : A reddit style story with interactive comments about Wukong mess of a love life (and his gay awakening). Wukong learns his girlfriend is cheating on him so in an act of pettiness he confront the secret side boyfriend. What he didn't expect was to get along with Macaque and, after explaining the situation and discovering Macaque had no idea he was a side piece, to get hammered and sleep with him.
Fic : on Ao3 and Tumblr
Status : completed (for now)
Vibe : crack and humor
Tumblr tag : AITA shadowpeach
Unpublished
So here is are my ideas for different Au's! Of course, bc those are still ideas in working, summaries might change a lil bit when I actually write them. Idk if I'll write them all though. They're classed from the one I want to write the most after I'm finished with Heart behind the lie and Mini Mac to ideas in passing.
Love Addicts :
Summary : Macaque and Sun Wukong find themselves feeling miserable after season 5. MK lost his powers when he jumped in the pillar, and both monkeys can't help but feel guilty. Sun Wukong then stumbles upon an odd door in his treasure trove and discovers the existence of a bar selling love potions. Despite hating each other, both monkeys decides to drink one potion to recover some sort of happiness, letting themselves be in love for one week. They take another one after the end of this first week and soon become addicted to the taste of love, even if this love is fake.
Fic : will be on Ao3 (debating if I'm gonna add it to Tumblr)
Status : unwritten / I'm planning this one after Heart behind the lie
Vibe : angst, fluff and feel, smut
Love rings true :
Summary : Sun Wukong took the throne of the Jade Emperor after the attack on Heavens orchestrated by the brotherhood. One day, Wukong gain a new jester, the most famous entertainer of the mortal realm : the Six-eared Macaque. Wukong becomes very enamored with his new jester but he doesn't know how to talk to him. As such he decides to approach him in an unusual way... He becomes a bell and spend the day at his jester's side, on his hat.
Fic : will be on Ao3 and Tumblr
Status : unwritten / Planning this after Mini Mac
Vibe : fluff and humor
Pacific rim Au :
Summary : For a long time, Sun Wukong and Macaque were the best Rangers in the world. Their performance was flawless, their compatibility undeniable, they piloted the Shadowpeach as if it was a part of their own bodies. But after a particular incident, they were never able to pilot together again. Years after, Macaque is required to pilot with Wukong for one last time. One last mission. Maybe having the world on the line will push them both to rekindle what was once lost.
Fic : unwritten / will be on Ao3 and Tumblr
Status : unwritten : fleshing out the lore
Vibe : feels and fluff, smut
Tumblr tag (including lore) : Shadowpeach pacific rim au
Monkey Cop Mania :
Summary : Both monkeys find themselves being transported to a movie-like dimension in which Sun Wukong is the insanely famous Monkey Cop and Macaque a world-wide known thief accused of murder. If they want to get back to their own dimension, they have to solve a murder and finish the movie's scenario. Problem is neither mystic monkeys turn out to be great detectives.
Fic : unwritten / will be on Ao3
Status : unwritten
Vibe : Humor and feels
Once upon a monkey
Summary : various long one shots of shadowpeach being in different fairy tales.
How to bewitch the witch : Wukong is the prince of the Sun Kingdom and falls in love with the cruel sea witch, Macaque, while said witch was destroying his wedding with the mermaid prince, Azure. Once Azure returns to his kingdom and their wedding falls void, Wukong does everything in his power to court Macaque. Turns out, courting a sea witch is quite difficult.
The strongest of them all : Macaque is a magic mirror with the ability to hear past, present and future terribly in love with his owner, the King Sun Wukong. One day Sun Wukong learns that he's not the strongest anymore, but that he's step-son, MK, is. Macaque, after listening to the future, fears for his King and tries to better the relationship between MK and Wukong.
Fighting Beauty : Macaque is prince Sun Wukong personal guard, in charge of guarding him until his betrothed comes to rescue him from the sleeping spell casted upon him. Things get awkward when Macaque awakens Sun Wukong on his first night on duty. Sun Wukong, impatient as ever, decides to slay the dragon himself and not wait on his betrothed, Macaque is dragged in the quest despite himself.
Midnight Illusion : Macaque is at day the mistreated step-son of the Lady Bone Demon, and at night the leader of the most fearsome thieves of the Sun Kingdom. He's unfortunately caught by the royal guard in the middle of a thievery. He's given two choices by the Sun King himself : either spend the rest of his life in prison, or spy on his own step-mother while also pretending to be the Sun King betrothed. Naturally, he chose the second option.
The Mage and the Monkey : Sun Wukong is cursed by the wandering mage, Macaque, after refusing to give him shelter on a stormy night. He's now the Monkey King, and he'll stay in this beastly form as long as he cannot find true love, according to the Mage, at least. But Sun Wukong is not one to stay idle, he finds the Mage huts after a lot of searching, and bugs him everyday to undo the curse. Macaque is tempted to accept, only because Sun Wukong is getting annoying.
Fic : unwritten / will be on Ao3
Status : unwritten / rough ideas really
Vibe : Humor and fluff and angst
Narcissist :
Summary : Sun Wukong was lonely. He felt like there was a wedge between him and the world, that no-one could ever understand him. Even his successor couldn't hope to breach his shell. Pushed by his loneliness, Wukong stole a forbidden book from the gods with the vilest spells written in it and bring his shadow to life.
Fic : unwritten / will be on Ao3
Status : unwritten / very rough idea
Vibe : angst, fluff and horror (Mac being an eldritch horror)
I'll add Au's to this guide if I have any more that I think of, but that's all for now.
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boydepartment · 11 months ago
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@ iluvmygf- nishimura riki x fem! reader: ch 6
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description: nishimura riki is a headache to his managers. as much as he loves being an idol and as much as he loves that he gets the freedom to travel. he hates that he can’t show you off. publicly… as himself… so he makes a twitter account called @ iluvmygf at first not a lot of people follow it. it goes unnoticed, for a few weeks. until it doesn’t. his account about you goes viral… and people are nosy as to who loves their gf so much to constantly post about her.
genre: romcom, crack, humor, something fun and lighthearted like a hallmark movie. it’s also set from november-february bc i said so and i want a christmas ark 😋🫶 this is an smau
warnings: cursing, most likely crude humor, probably kms jokes
no specific warnings for this chapter
WRITTEN CHAPTER- word count 250-500
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you found yourself giggling as you snuck out of your dorms once again for your loser of a boyfriend.
when you hit the cool air you started shivering instantly, only in your pajamas, a hoodie, and your outdoor slippers.
you spotted your boyfriend behind a bush, “loser i can’t let you in, you chose the entrance with the cctv right there.”
“FUCK!” riki yelled and stood up. you started laughing and grabbed his hand, “walk with me then.”
riki nodded and let you guide him around your dorm. he quickly took off his hat and put it on you, “i brought it for you.”
your eyes scowled at him, “this is your favorite one. what boo boo did you commit?”
riki put his hand over his heart, “ouch! baby! already accusing your handsome, fun, hot, lovi-“
“riki!”
“okay okay!” he put his hands up and looked down at you, “the account i made about you-“
“the one where you say how much you loooooove me!” you teased him and he grabbed your face lightly, making your lips pucker.
“yes the account i made where i say how much i looooove you.” he copied your tone of voice.
you started giggling after he gave you a quick peck, “the account is starting to gain traction.” he spoke simply.
you looked at him in fear, “are you in trouble? i don’t want you to get into trouble! do they know it’s you?”
riki looked at you, his heart warming a bit that you cared more about him than silly photos of you gaining traction.
“nono they don’t it’s okay!” he shoved you lightly then caught you when you almost slipped, “jungwon just told me i should tell you.”
“are the staff going to make you delete the account?” you asked, leaning into him.
riki shook his head no, “they don’t know about it.” he giggled, a little evilly.
“riki-“
“what! i’m keeping it up! and i’m still going to post! anyways….” he leaned down to be eye level with you, “so, i am viral… do you still love me?”
you rolled your eyes, “obviously.”
he started laughing and hugged you tightly, “yeah i’m just so cool you have to love me.”
you started laughing again as he swung you around lightly, it didn’t seem as cold with riki even with the snow and ice around you.
___
MASTERLIST
taglist- open
@yourmomscuntis2tighy @yannew @wzy3ka @stellarpsh @czlluvriki @im-yn-suckers @owotalks @filmofhybe @skepvids @ocyeanicc @amymyli @imsodazed @rikislady @j-wyoung @bangchansbangers @sassyfanlawyergarden @miko1ly @itsactuallylina @haewonluvr @entenen @cb97mylove @jxp1-t3r @ineedaherosavemeenow @str4wb3rizz @beomgyusonlywife @jiaant11 @sweet-kisses-and-bloody-screams @enhaz1 @mrchweeee @stryroses @riziwon @cholexc @soobiverse @tzuyusluv @hayleyrkbee @softiehee @captivq @yla-aira @svarcq @s00buwu @rodygr @ikeu4life @faraonatojishady @ohsjy @bts-iris @wqsty @en-gene2 @mrowwww @eumppattv @junsflow @ilurvriki @bunchofroses07 @ariadores @luvkpopp @asherthehimbo @realrintaro @myjaeyunn
comment, dm, send an ask, or reblog to be added :) i try to keep up with tag lists however i get a ton of notifications everyday so please lmk if i forget you. if you do choose to comment please do it on the masterlist.
a/n: sorry this chapter took so long! if you’re not on my account often i had surgery :3 i am okay tho! i’ve been watching a lot of rotten mango. i’m also going out to a party tonight lolz
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ghostcatssecretblog · 3 months ago
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Attack On Titan: Modern AU
(Or as I call it the highschool sweet heart au.)
Some of you may have seen my post based on my Attack on Titan Modern AU! But I've only ever posted photos. (I have more on my tiktok. Feel free to check it out)
So I'm gonna share my notes from this AU and my personal take on the characters in a modern universe.
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Some starter notes:
I tried to bring elements from the original story over, but obviously, it's not just a complete modern retelling, and to be honest, I mostly focused on Eren bc like...that's my boy. I have some thoughts on the others and they're listed below but I don't touch on everyone bc I just don't have enough thoughts about them.
The modern AU does not take place in our world. It's still theirs, so the setting and map is the same just...modern. You can honestly take this as a reincarnation AU.
So let's go!
Eren:
• Eren's mom died in a car accident when he was nine. He was there to see it but luckily was mostly unharmed. His mom however died due to the impact.
• His father is a doctor, and because of this, he is rarely ever home, so his brother Zeke has to take care of him. Zeke is overly protective and tries to prevent Eren from doing things he considers to be reckless.
• Zeke and Eren have a weird relationship because while Zeke is the one who raised him and took care of him, Eren resents the fact that Zeke mothers him so much, especially as he gets older and tries to have more freedom to do what he wants with his life.
• As kids Armin, Mikasa, and Eren stuck together. Eren defended them from bullies, but the trio always managed to find themself in trouble. Mostly due to Eren always getting into something or starting fights of his own.
• He was already a bit of a trouble maker, but when his mom passed, he seemed to spiral. Zeke, only being 20 when he started taking care of Eren, means having to juggle college, a job, and raising a child. Needless to say, Eren went unsupervised a LOT in middle school.
• During freshman year of high school, Eren started attending Scout High, where he met a lot of his friends. He struggled at first but eventually formed a rag-tag group that only grew. One of those is Arte, who, like Reiner and Berthold, is a year above him. Their friendship was rocky at first, but they eventually came to an understanding.
• During freshman year, he joined the soccer team. By junior year he became captain.
• During sophomore year, the changes slowly began. Zeke became more overbearing, pushing Eren to be sneaky, and his father was around less and less.
• Then the incident happened. It was during a house party At Historia's right after homecoming. Everything was fine at first until Reiner made a foul comment about Eren's mom being dead. A fight broke out between them, resulting in Reiner having to go to the hospital. Because Arte, and a few others vouched for Eren and said that Reiner instigated the fight Eren got left off easy but was made to go to therapy and was put on probation.
• During junior year of high school, Eren becomes more reckless and starts to isolate from his friends more. He hangs out with the wrong sort of kids (Floch and Samuel), gets into fights more often, skips class, and overall stops caring as much. He picks up skateboarding as a hobby.
Extra notes:
• While he plays soccer he also does skateboarding as a hobby.
• He's into metal bands such as 5FDP and SOAD.
• His grandparents (dad side) are very conservative. They also don't approve of Grisha divorcing Dina and Marrying Carla (partially bc she was younger than him). They tend to favor Zeke and consider Eren to be nothing more than a trouble maker.
Arte
• In contrast to Eren's more middle class suburban life, Arte grew up your stereotypical white trash sort of home with a neglectful mother and an alcoholic father
• They grew mostly isolated, living too far from the city to make friends and considered too much of an odd kid to make any at school.
• That is until middle school. When they met Winnie.
• Winnie comes from upper class. She's rich but considered the back sheep of the family and because of this her and Arte become close friends. Closer than friends even
• But in 8th grade they split. Winnie wanted to stay in public school to be with Arte but Arte pushed her away, ensuring Winnie would go to boarding school. Art thought she was better off there.
• Arte then attends the same highschool as Eren their freshman year.
• Arte is friends with Annie (both are lower class and have bad parents) and Hitch - designated sunshine and rich girl of the group.
• Absolutely loves automotive and English classes. They help fix Eren's car on the regular.
• Their relationship when they first meet is weird and mostly bickering. Very friend/enemies through Eren's freshman and Sophmore year.
• Around his junior year he's getting in a lot more fights. Arte helps patch his face up in the boy's bathroom. There's a heart to heart and they become actual friends soon after.
• Arte Annie and Hitch start hanging around Eren's friend group more - leads to Armin and Annie dating.
• For the rest of Junior year Arte and Eren end up sneaking out (arte sneaking into his room, going to the skatepark, wandering the neighborhood, late night McDonald's runs)
• Eventually they end up dating but it's a bit of a slow burn bc neither wants to admit they like the other.
• Arte keeps Eren as far away from their home life as possible bc they don't want him seeing how awful it is but also bc they're fairly certain if he were to their dad hitting them Eren would end up in prison for murder
• Eren does find out via seeing the scars and bruises on Arte and loses his shit
• The one time he did catch Arte's dad putting his hands on them Arte had to drag him back into the car to avoid a fight.
Extra notes:
• AAH have matching friendship bracelets
• Likes music like Radiohead, Nirvana, Deftones...
• They go to football games (hitch is a cheer leader) and Eren's soccer games together. As well as Parties, homecoming, prom (Arte asks Eren for their senior year and vise versa for his), haunted houses, carnival, etc.
• Arte stays over at Eren's a lot bc bad home life.
• They also get Eren into smoking weed. Zeke does not approve.
• Arte graduates first but takes a gap year to wait on Eren so they can apply to colleges together (with zekes help)
• During this time Arte temporarily moves in with Zeke and Eren.
• Unfortunately neither knows what they want to do with their life atm
• I really feel like Eren would be the kinda person to go to a lot of protest though. He probably organizes half of them.
• Arte -> Enginering Major
• Eren -> Social Justice Major
• Zeke and Yelena are married. They end up moving to Liberio, Marley and try to take Eren with them.
• Eventually end up getting dog together named Titan. He's a chow and Tibetan mastiff mix
Armin:
• He still lives with his grandpa
• His parents are alive they just travel a lot for work so he doesn't see them very much
• It's part of the reason he wants to see the ocean and travel.
• Ends up a marine biologist
• Armin x Annie !
• Takes a lot of IB classes in High-school.
• Likes softer music. I'm thinking Cavetown vibes.
Mikasa:
• Her parents are alive! Yay!
• Her, Armin and Eren all lived in the same neighborhood. Armin and Eren were friends first and she joined them when her family moved into the neighborhood.
• She almost had a little brother but he didn't make it. Thus, she projects big sister energy onto Eren and Armin.
• Listens to Lana del Rey and Mitski. Unless she's working out, that is.
• Ends up a physical trainer after highschool.
• Jean x Mikasa bc that boy adores her and would actually give her the domestic life she craves.
Friend groups:
1. Eren Armin Mikasa
2. Jean, Sasha, Connie and Marco are all friends.
3. Annie Hitch and Arte
4. Reiner and Bertholdt
5. Historia <3 Ymir
Porco, Piek, Marcel aren't really ever relevant but I imagine they go to a rival school in Libero. Porco is on the boy's soccer team and he and Eren have beef bc of it.
Reiner:
• Reiner's issues in this AU stem from growing up in a conservative household. His mother is reglious and his dad went out for milk...
• He's also a closeted homo. His feelings for Historia are merely him hetero-compensating. Hence, his issues towards Eren, who is very openly Bisexual. (Also idk but there's homoerotic tension there. Have you seen them fight??)
• But by college he figures his shit out. He's a changed man! I like to think he ends up dating Ploam's OC Logan.
• Anyway, just imagine your stereotypical closested football joke but then he grows up, gets him a bf and a shelter dog and LIVES HAPPILY
Annie:
• Kinda already summarized her in the previous notes but
• She's still adopted in this au. Her dad still sucks. Her and Arte have bonds bc of it
• AruAnnie! They get cats when they get older. Colossus the maincoon and sphinx (idk what to name it)
• I like Yama's take on her music taste. She definitely listens to Evanescence and Avil Lavigne.
• Professional MMA fighter after Highschool
I don't really have thoughts on Bertholdt, and I'm sorry I just don't have any thoughts on him :p
Sasha and Connie are still best friends! I think It would be really cute if Niccolo was from the same school as Porco and Piek and Sasha met him during a bake sale and liked his baking so much he went into Culinary after HS and ofc eventually got his own restaurant. Sasha is a food blogger and is constantly posting his dishes on the gram which just brings in most business for him. (Listen I need these two TO BE HAPPY)
Marco doesn't die! For once, omg. He and Jean become good friends. He, just as with the show, that starts Jean's character arc. Instead of dying, he ends up having to move away but it forces Jean to realize he needs to open up and make friends with other people too.
That's all I have so far! But feel free to ask questions about the AU!
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yawntu · 2 years ago
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Golden Hour
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A/N: ngl i’ve been fiending to write more Tsu’tey but y’all can’t let me become a one trick pony fr. This one’s a little self indulgent my legs be kicking and shit. This isn’t proof read but will be eventually LMAO. I just wanted to get it out bc ppls were messaging me, I tried giving u actual plot this time. Sully reader, Neteyams twin &lt;333 why does tumblr always eat the end half of my posts what the FUCK
pairing(s): Ao’nung x (Sully)(f) Reader
word count: 10k
warnings: NSFW MDNI, weed oop, squirting, 2 little slaps but they’re not hard, consent king, mating, standing sex?, dacryphilla, semi public, a little bit of degrading / mean bits but not really, he just thinks you’re real pretty idk, size kink, brat taming if u squint readers got a bit of a catty attitude, you both have attitudes, idiots in love, PINING, idk i have a soft spot for idiots in love, Ao’nungs so in love with u, i’m about to start getting ppl to read these over and do the tags for me bc idk how to
na’vi glossary: skxawng: moron, Ole’eytkan: clan leader, kurkung: asshole, vrrtep’ite: demoness, Nga yawne lu oer: i love you, tanhì: star, kxener: I took park of the word that describes the act of smoking, idk I’m out here making up Na’vi slang.
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Perhaps you were in such a delightful mood today because of the rich scented soaps and the pretty shimmer body oils that left your skin hydrated and vibrant after your bath, or perhaps it was the fact that Tsireya had just done your hair with little pearls and shells the night previous.
You’ve grown to love so many things that Awa'atlu offered you. You think, however, that your favorite thing was the sheer amount of turquoise geothermal warmed springs scattered around the bustling seaside village. You had often found yourself alone now that you had grown up, appreciating the peace that solitude brought you. Soaking in the warm watered spring of the mangrove beaches not terribly far from the village only added to said peace. Besides being a good place for one to watch the sun rise in the morning, it was also a good place to be left alone. As it wasn't an increasingly popular place to bathe it meant you got to spend your morning with pretty scented soaps, oils and creams while eating fruit and enjoying a kxener all in your preferred solitude. It wasn’t that you didn’t love spending time with friends and family- in all honesty a war torn childhood made you appreciate them and the peace you now lived in even more.
A fact you attempt to remind yourself off when an obnoxious smack of feet against the rocky grounds of the warm springs past the mangals pull you from your fruit eating haze. Your head snapped over to the sound, ready to scold someone for disrupting your tranquil morning- yet your eyes fall upon Aonung’s advancing form. You can’t help but allow a quick smile before your act begins. Your faux scowl at his towering approaching form.
“I literally just got in, what could you possibly want of me this early in the day?”
It’s a lie you tell as you lean back on the rocky wall of the spring, pointing two accusatory fingers towards him. You had been in long enough to quickly wash your hair and body. Even enough time to oil the ends of your hair, and though you were quick with it if he ended your bath here you’d at least have enjoyed your little acts of self care. No doubt you’d have to get dressed and follow him somewhere to help with something you’d much rather not be doing on your supposed free day. If the Eyktanay was saunting over to you, then no doubt your perfect morning would be a fleeting moment crushed to dust at your feet.
He gives you an look of dumbfounded distress, brow muscle jutting up into an arch while his lip curls up into a contemptuous grin,
“And to think I thought we were dear friends who enjoyed each other's company, vrrtep’ite,”
He is silly looking, as he squats at the edge of the spring, large imposing arms dangling between his legs, his tail curved towards you, eyes unnaturally trained at the horizon despite the fact he’s apparently cross with you. You can’t help but grin up at him, enjoying the quips and banter he often offered you; yet showed you enough respect as to not oogle at you.
Part of you was surprised to have him stumble upon you, as of late he is usually too busy to share a moment with him before the eclipse. He grabs the kxener next to your bowl of fruit, and the flintstones, barely looking at you. It’s endearing, how he holds the smoke between his full lips, his too big hands managed to spark rocks together to light it. For his towering frame, Aonung moves rather gracefully. His jaw is sharp as it clenches when the herbs spark at his face, eyes fluttering. You watch the muscles of his neck and shoulders flex when he puts the tool down and moves to hold the kxener with his left hand. He grabs a berry motioning towards you,
“What?”
His voice is haughty as he notices you staring. Even as he talks out of the corner of his mouth, lips holding the kxener smoke from fully creeping past his pointy white canine and incisor. The way his face contorts makes you giggle, resting your arm on the rock he was perched on,
“I don’t know. It’s silly seeing you act so civilized,” you say as you run one of your nails down his ankle to mess with him, “Decide you want to enjoy my brunch, huh? What, wrestling a tsurak too brutish today?”
He is instantly making a face, mimicking your voice in a faux girlish shrill as he finally grabbed hold of what he was smoking, seating himself fully, then plopping the fruit in his mouth giving you a displeased look.
It had been a long time since he was a truly troublesome, rough edged hooligan and though you would have still called him a hooligan to this day, Ao’nung was proud of how he had grown. Though he had his stubborn and even volatile moments he had won the close friendship of your twin brother, and even the younger siblings he once put in perilous danger. You had all long let that dead pa’li lie.
“You are the jungle savage,” he jokingly sneers, handing the kxener back down to you, then poking at your forehead for annunciation.
The mix of the thickly sweet and tangy fruit on top of the sour, peppery and earthy taste of the kxener is pleasant, but the fact that you can taste the balm that was on his lips is what makes your tail swish slowly in the water. 
“You’re mad your mother likes me better than you right now,”
You nod matter of factly to the freshly added tattoo creeping up his shoulder, an obsidian addition to his growing collection. Ronal was displeased with who had done it, not so much the design. Soon he'd be covered in them, rarely a part of his pretty face untouched by ink. Ronal knew this, yet it was in her nature to be argumentative. You didn’t stick around for the argument as by the time Ao’nung walked completely into their home, you and his sister had made a quick dash out as to not inherit the wrath of Ronal. The two had been bickering over everything since.
“Ha!” His laugh is boisterous and booming like the storms that would crack down over the ocean, “I am my mothers favorite! She’d drown you before-“
Drown was a funny idea. And now that he didn’t have your lit morning smoke in his hand, there was nothing defending him from your swift hand clutching the wrist closest to you, dragging him forward into the depth of the spring. It was a quick decision really, you had been a little shocked you did it considering if you didn’t pull him with such force he’d have surely hit the rock you were currently seated on- and this rather foolish quick decision meant that poor Ao’nung was as equally not prepared for the assault. The splash of his bulking body is huge, unceremonious and forces you to quickly turn half your body to avoid the brute of its wave.
The mischief is worth it as he rises from the water unharmed yet in disbelief. His sea-foam eyes wide open, curls sticking to his forehead as they fall from his silly little bun. Seeming to be dumbfounded that you dared to pull the practically aquatic man into such waters. As if he hadn’t stepped towards a rocky plateau as he stood up, and that the water barely reached his belly button.
“At least you did not drown-”
Perhaps if it wasn’t for the pesky second eyelid of the Metkayina then the water would have blinded him long enough for you to playfully escape from the splash he sent your way; far too powerful of a crime as the ends of your hair rewet and stick to your torso. It’s a foreign feeling as your hair had already begun to dry under the intense heat of the sun previously.
“You’re the worst out of the lot of you,” he interrupts himself with a sneeze from inhaling the water he wasn’t prepared to breath in, “i’m still clothed, skxawng,”
It makes you laugh, he seems genuinely annoyed but it still bemuses you. They were always wet and in and out of the water. How could it have possibly mattered to him, you were sure he’d have gone diving once he was content with ruining the peaceful start of your morning.
You knew him. You knew he came here to pick on you in his usual manner until something else caught his attention and he’d leave you alone and unfortunately missing him. So you’d enjoy your moment of terrorizing him back. You liked humbling him. Especially now that he’s growing closer and closer to being Ole’eytkan.
You obviously wouldn’t have ever grown to be as forward with your hazing had his sister not emboldened you; and though he stands ahead of you, almost posturing, you both knew there was an unspoken rule that Ao’nung lets you tease him. Though you danced across the exasperated too-far line, Ao’nung would take a great deal from you with a playful surrender. You huff the herb one more time before passing it to his dripping form, a peace treaty.
“You interrupted my bath, it is only fair,”
You’re far too occupied with how soft the almost too warm skin of his hand was when it was wet, and the tantalizing shivers it sends up your arm when your fingers make contact with him to notice that he sees you. Maybe he had inhaled too much water as you had caught him off guard, or maybe he had just inhaled smoke too deeply immediately after you had stolen the physical breath from the vacuum of his lungs, but Ao’nung is entirely too entranced with the moment that plays in front of him that it makes him dizzy.
The sun rising behind him was finally starting to lose its pinkish hues, casting warm golden rays onto your freshly washed glassy skin. The oils across your azure skin reflected the sparkly luminance that only the crushed up shells of Awa’atlu could provide. He can’t help but think the sun looks its best reflecting off the amber of your eyes. Though you are one of- if not the most beautiful girl- he had had the pleasure of knowing, the golden rays of the rising sun dancing across the apples of your supple cheek weren’t where his eyes have trailed to. In fact, your long hair moved slightly from where it had been covering your out of the water torso. Though you had never really worn much coverings, the fact that you were not only nude, but comfortable enough to be relaxed nude around him made his chest feel just as fuzzy as his head.
He’s glad you’re lost in thought so he can take a split second to stare at you breast without you noticing, despite the almost painful desire to stare at your gracile forest form he doesn’t want to be caught staring. He’s only been caught staring at you once- not by you of course. For someone so clever he was surprised you were so oblivious to the world around you sometimes. No- he had been caught staring by your twin brother who had rightfully punched him right in the back, making contact with a rather fresh, and rather painful tattoo. Though it turned into a light hearted, overly rowdy horseplay between friends, Ao’nung understood the undertone. If he touched you, Neteyam might just kill him.
“If you wanted me to take a bath with you, you could have just asked,”
Why in Eywas great paradise did he say that? He was just thinking about how your brother might knock his teeth out for the fact that he had been staring at your bare chest and he felt as though stupid mouth spoke on its own accord.
He was glad you turned so red at his words though- probably out of anger at the implication. It overshadowed how he had embarrassed himself- drew your attention away from the embarrassing mauve heat creeping up his own neck. He hated how visible the contrast of flushed skin was compared to yours. The splash of the water you sent towards him forces him to hold the half done kxener far above his own head.
“I’m surprised you even know how to bathe, kurkung,”
He thinks it’s cute how quickly one arm covers your chest as you go to sit up slightly- suddenly very aware that you’re more exposed then usual, despite the fact you didn’t seem to care before- reaching to grab at his arm and try and snatch the kxener from his hand. It’s his turn to laugh at you know, and plop himself down on the water smoothed stone you had lounged on.
“I’m very clean actually. It’s hard to have such magnificent hair,” He hands you the kxener and with his other hand motions to his bun.
You snort, rolling your eyes and taking the herb you had both been using as a peace treaty from him. Your body turns towards him, head propped up on one of your pretty delicate hands, and the other holding the kxener to your pretty plump lips. Had he not embarrassed himself once already he’d have just sat here and blatantly watched you smoke in the morning light.
“It is going to grow thin if you keep it up all the time,” You motion to him.
Though you knew it was probably a pile of talioang dung, and that his hair would be fine despite the past five years of his well known bun- you couldn’t help but love when his long curly terraces fell down the expanse of his prodigious back. You wouldn’t waste an opportunity to convince him to keep it down.
“I’ll tattoo my bald head,” he’s grinning when he tells you, mimicking the way you had propped your head up on your hand, and reaches to swirl one of your own wavy strands around his finger, “Probably shave yours in your sleep to get back at you for jinxing me,”
“Your mother would scalp you if you did such a cruel thing, very unbecoming of the Eyktanay,”
You mock his status over you. He supposed that was fitting for you. The eldest daughter of the Toruk Makto was sure to have an issue with authority, 
“Well this is rather unbecoming of me. I could be doing countless other things but sitting in a spring with you smoking a kxener and watching the world go by,”
His argument is valid. Though you know he’s joking there is a twinge in your stomach. An argumentative spark that tells you he isn’t joking- that he did not prioritize you the way you had grown to prioritize him. 
The snippy comment rolling off your tongue dies as Ao’nung’s shoulders hunch slightly, leaning his head further down into your space. At this point you were close enough that he could hit the rolled smoke from your own hand.
It was ridiculous. Evil even. How Eywa dangled what you wanted so cruelly in front of your face. The cruel waltz of tension that has suffocated the friendship as you aged. The fact that you can feel your stomach drop at the feeling of his lips so close to your fingers, could taste the shared air between the two of you. Here you sat almost stunned in the shadow of his form.
The Metekyana were large- huge even. An’oung was large amongst them. Well into ten feet you’d assume considering he was ever so taller then his father when he stood straight up. In comparison to his big, stubborn bull-head, your sylphlike hands holding the mostly finished intoxicant to his tantalizing lips looked delicate and small. He could break you. He could toss you around like a rag doll and you’d even thank him after.
You feel bad for the addled look on your face, it’s just been increasingly vexing growing into adulthood due to this bastard. You know you really want to be grinning at his close proximity and the fact that he trusts you so close to his face with something burning. You should be cooing over the fact that he flutters his pretty eyes closed and admires his long eyelashes. Yet you couldn’t stop the bubbling of an attitude under your skin. You knew you were attracted to him, most people had known you had fancied him. Especially when he had grown comfortable enough around you to privy you to the earnest, callowly charming and flustered side of him- but there was something about the way life turned out that kept you both in this tense ‘we aren’t together’, but we are very obviously much more than friends.
You were an older sister at your core. Bossy and with a desire to be the center of attention; Ao’nung thought it was a game to play, and would never fall at your feet the way you charmed others into. At least he’d put up a fight in the pathetically self imposed game you had both committed to.
“Others would gladly take your place, leave then, find somewhere else to be,” you find your resolve finally, after your embarrassing pause. 
With a roll of your eyes, you snatch your hand from his lips. In annunciation of your irritation you had stood up slightly, careful to not remove your body from the turquoise waters of the mangrove spring as you began to move towards the end furthest from him.
He doesn’t really like the years-long game you’ve been playing at this moment, and he really doesn’t like that you have moved away from him. He’s tired of competing in this ridiculous long winded courting ritual with you. He’s been at it since he had made you sob when he left Lo’ak outside of the reef all those years ago. It was the first time Ao’nung had been embarrassed by his own actions. He had been spoiled his whole life, taking whatever he could want- and for the first time he realized he had taken something from someone else. He had taken happiness from someone. He thanked Eywa for letting Lo’ak return relatively unharmed, and swore the wretched sobs that had fallen from your lips never again even ticked the back of your throat.
Year's. Years he has gone out of his way to emulate the humility you so easily radiate. You had forced him to grow; for year's he's learned how to be a man who deserved you. He wasn't a perfect man, in his eyes still not very deserving of you; he was still loud, impulsive and painfully cocky. It’s probably what had pushed him to wrap a large hand around your delicate wrist, unceremoniously pulling you back until the back of your thighs touched him, tail squishing between you and the muscle of his thigh.
Though Ao’nung would pride himself in the fact that you haven't sobed once or even cried often in years, he can't say you didn't hiss. As you are right now, a soprano squeal of a hiss right in his face. Now that the kxener was finishing you were pleasantly buzzing; and the quick drawback of your body had made you dizzy. It’s not his actions that have you embarrassed; you're embarrassed your stomach is fluttering at the feeling of coming into contact with his legs and torso, comfortably aware of the heat he added to the warmth of the water. You try to hide the embarrassment of being close to him like this with only half-real annoyance. Had you not been so civilized Ao’nung was sure you would snap that pretty little jaw at him bite a chunk out of his face,
“I am naked!” Your voice cracks as you yelp, hand landing on his thigh, using the waters aid to help elevate yourself off of his lap, mortified as you were far too close to the water's surface to enjoy the privacy the turquoise water had provided you with yet the idea of your bare skin on his was somehow scarier.
“I am not,” he remarks, taking the kxener from you, moving the hand that had grabbed you to land on your thigh.
You freeze in his lap. Now that the sun's completely up there's nothing to hide you. No beautiful colors to bounce off of your face that you can pass off the blushes accreditation.
“Sit and finish it, you wanted to enjoy a relaxing morning- you do not seem so relaxed,”
You blame the softly buzzing high for the softness you feel for him at this moment. Assuring yourself that his stupid oval head wasn’t terribly handsome and that his warm blue eyes didn’t make your chest tighten. You wouldn’t admit to any of the stupid love sick thoughts that have plagued your mind the entire time he’s been here with you.
More so, you certainly wouldn’t admit that despite his usually rowdy behavior and need to bicker with you, sitting against his imposing form made you feel safer than ever before. It was the work of a herbal paranoid if he dared poked fun at you for how it did not take much convincing for you to sit yourself down on his lap. Flinching at the feeling of the fiber of his tweng against the nude back of your thigh and glutes. You hope he doesn’t notice, even going as far as to lay your head on his chest before doing as he told you and lifting the dwindling end to your lips,
“Don’t you want to finish it?” you ask him, refusing to look up at him. Instead you stared intently at the sun over the sea. He runs his fingers across the expanse of your shoulder.
“It’s yours, I want you to enjoy your morning. Besides, unlike you I have real things to do this afternoon,”
You huff at his jab, knowing he respected the work you did around the village and the aid you offered his mother. A small part of you aches over the lingering idea that he didn't think you enjoyed the time spent with him.
“I've already enjoyed my morning. It’s not often the future Ole’eytkan spares time for me and graces me with his presence,”
You know he's busy, you'd never actually hold that over his head. And when you feel him move your hair off of your shoulder and lay his head on top of your own you almost feel bad for reminding him he’s so busy. Especially when he so sweetly caresses your decolletage as well. You didn’t understand how you always danced this edge with Ao’nung. Years of this pining and yet you’d both always end up here. Stuck in a strangely intimate moment that neither of you would dare go past. You are glad to finish though, finally tossing the item that had kept you both in this painfully frustrating stalemate, maybe you’d go sulk the rest of the day as he was busy doing Eywa knows what.
It’s your ego really, that makes you want to end the morning. Or embarrassment. How could you be sitting naked on top of him; how could you have let this go on all morning. Not just this morning actually, how could you have played this game so long with him when you were so unsure of his own feelings.
“I’m going to prune though so we should get out,”
Your voice is snippy when you speak to him. Hurt evident in your voice as you look up, and finally notice that he’s staring intently down at you. Committing the sight of your nude lissome Omatakyan form perched on his lap to memory. His wagging tail rippling the water and allowing him to watch the waters reflection dance across the bare sapphire of your skin. You were often close to Ao’nung. He didn’t make you uncomfortable in the slightest. You had sat in similar positions, been casually intimate- hell when you were younger the whole group of you would sleep in piles. Being pressed against him wasn’t new to you, yet this is very different. He had made the situation you were in very different in the span of minutes.
“Ao’ i’m serious-“ your voice cracks, “We’ve been here far too long, i’m sure someone will come looking for you-”
“Only me, you and Eywa here,”
It’s said with such a coy yearning you can’t help but flush purple. It wasn’t often that he had ever caught you off guard- at least not to this extent. Despite his usual impulsive nature he was usually relatively predictable when it came to you,
“Y-you’re never serious,” your ears flatten, when you try to turn your head, however his hand is quick to catch your cheek, and he uses his thumb to smush both together. 
It’s not as easy for your tail to wag submerged in the water, not as easy as his does. You’re fighting against the water but you can’t help the flick of your tail- there was too much going on. You felt too much. You’re not really sure why you keep up the charade. He knew you had a great deal of admiration for him surely he wouldn’t have drawn this out had he not been interested in you?
“How could I not be serious when the most enchanting woman in all of Pandora is looking up at me like that?” and his big hand is dwarfing your cheeks and you can swear that you’d choke if you spoke, “Huh? All shy now are you?”
You weren’t shy. How could he call you shy? Shy was hiding away from him or avoiding conversation. He couldn’t call you shy if he did things to embarrass you into dumbfounded silence.
“You drive me ins-”
Your scold dies at the feeling of his kiss on your lips. It’s soft and his breathing against your face makes you smile. It's embarrassing how instant the grin is. How can you be mad when he’s kissing you finally. Perhaps you’d just say you were throwing a nantang a bone when your greedy berry stained tongue eagerly glided across his lip, or when your hips dug down into his lap, curling your tail around his thigh. Ao’nung could justify that his hands gripping and groping frantically as your sun warmed torso pulling you back into him was him doing the same.
And when one of your hands falls to caress your nails against the skin of his lower abs he can’t stop his hips from jerking and thrusting upwards into you, sending your body jostling up. Prematurely ending the oral exploration of both of your tongues.
There’s a string of his saliva connecting you together and his hands brace your jolted form. He means to ask you if you’re alright much quicker then he does. He can’t help but get distracted by your pretty flushed cheeks and with your wide amorous amber eyes. It set him a thrill with a sense of his own stomach warming bliss. He can’t shake his worry though. Worried he had pushed too far too suddenly.
“C’mon, you’re not ready for all this yet,” he rubs his nose against yours, and lets you kiss him softly again. 
        He paws at your hip, and then motions back towards the village with his head breaking your lips apart. How could you have possibly wanted to go back to the village now? You give him a queried look at his cocky barb,
“Perhaps you’re the one not ready for me,”
The raillery in your voice is a comfort that would have made his knees buckle had he not been seated. He smiles, because he knows you’re both right; and his cheeks hurt from the grin as he watches your eyes flutter close as your noses touch once more. A magnetic force that kept bringing your faces close to one another. You couldn’t see him now that your eyes were closed and you were enjoying the comfort of being close to him. It made him shift in his seat. You couldn’t see him. Not now. Not when he wanted you to see him so terribly. See how hard he had worked for you- see how badly he wanted you to just tell him you wanted him so he could move past this terrible feeling of insecurity he had over you. Then again perhaps, he thought it meant more in this moment that you knew him. Knew him so well that you could see past his coyness. As if to coax him further you bite down gently at his lip.
How could he leave you wanton like this? He relishes in the the sweet wiggle of your body at the gentle press of the pads of his calloused fingers roaming the length of your spine and dancing across the valley of your breasts. Soft and slow—just for the sake of caressing you. He has wanted to touch you like this for as long as he could remember. None of his lingering touches or platonic embraces could pale to the invigorating pulse your skin against his gave him. And he’s barely touching you- ghosting over your pretty sapphire skin and you’re trembling. Trying to squirm away from his lithe hands as to prevent his gliding fingers in their  pursuit towards your peaked nipples. He’s sure the drag of his fingers as he groped at you was probably more tortuous than any direct overstimulation he could cause you but he wouldn’t grant you that clemency. Not until he feels satisfied that you’ve been disproven. That he was more than capable of taking care of you, more than ready to.
Ao’nung is competitive, and you know this. He knows you know this. How often have you both gotten into trouble over silly competition? He can’t help but huff at the thought that you knew how to press his buttons and roll his hips up once more. The sound of water squishing between where you meet makes your ears fall flat against your head and your nails dig into the soft skin below his abs.
“Ya, yer gonna see,” He moves with you easily, sliding from under you and propping your knees up on the smooth stone you had both sat on previously, standing behind you. 
Ao’nung casts an imposing shadow over yourself and the ground around you. The water only offers to cover you to the top of your thigh, rendering you the most exposed you’ve ever been for him. You can’t help but shift your weight and squirm at the feeling of Ao’nung wrapping his hands around the freshly cleaned halo of curls that were your last sense of modesty. Now that he’s pushed your hair over your shoulder there’s nothing stopping him from seeing all of you. You attempt to focus on how the ends of your hair dip into the water, or how tan your freckling hands and arm appear next to the light lime wash of the smooth stony structures of the springs.
You feel strange, knees on the smooth stone you had originally sat on, palms bracing yourself on the stoney ledge as his prodigious hands dance up and down the shape of your curves while he causes in the water to plop rhythmic against your skin as he gives into his desire to rut against your form quickly. He is even quicker to catch himself and return his focus to you. You should feel much more vulnerable than you do at this moment- quite literally stuck between a rock and a hard place. Yet the cooling overcast of his form protecting you from the sweltering rays of light made you feel far more secure then you had previously thought. 
It’s tantalizing- dizzying even when you feel his fingers run down the expanse of your back. It was easy for him to become distracted with the enchanting visage of your form arched prettily in front of him.
He knows you were right. He was nervous. For more reasons than one. Firstly the longer the sun made its ascension into the sky the more likely anyone could have the misfortune of stumbling upon you. More importantly he knows he should not mate with you right here. That you deserve much better than this. He aches knowing this is the closest he has ever gotten to it despite years of literally grasping at sand for the chance to be mounted over you like he was now.
Ao’nung did not have the resolve of a man you deserved though. He couldn’t swallow the anxiety he felt over the fact that perhaps if he didn’t come across you today someone else would have. And you would have been bent over for them. He wanted to do this much better for you- as cliche as it sounded. Yet, when he watched his hand dwarf the intricate and soft dips of the dimples that framed the sides of your softly twitching tail, his resolve snapped.
“Yer’ gonna be my Tsahìk?”
He watches you jolt under his sudden slurred words, the added stimulation of his left palm gripping the pliable sphere of meat that was only centimeters from his own longing groin adding to your need. Gripping just a bit too roughly. He didn’t mean to handle you so impolitely, he could not bring himself to have any resolve as his fingers curl against your skin to pull you apart for him. He’s embarrassed at how excited he is to receive the reward of your pretty moan at his chilling intrusion. He had been blessed with hearing your whiney groans and faux whimpery cries many times before, but he had never been privy to such an entrancing sound as your desperate moan.
He can’t stop his upper body from clambering down, hands quickly bracing his imposing form down on the same rock that held you up. His face instantly in the visible crook of your neck. All you can do is turn and gaze dumbfounded at his hand that twitches almost too closely to your own while you listen to him practically pant in your alert ear. His panting breath cracks in your ear when you raise your hips slightly, the feeling of the ridge of your tail, and curve of your ass against his ever throbbing manhood results in his own guttural moan followed by a sloppy open mouth kiss under your ear.
“Ao’nung, please,”
You don’t know what you’re pleading for him to do and he can’t believe you could be the one pleading right now considering how tightly you had wound him up already. He can’t bring himself to understand the complexities of your own emotions when he can now fully feel his body on top of yours.
“Please what, huh? Want me to mate you? G’onna be mine?” He enunciated his words with uncharacteristically gentle kisses to your neck. 
You hear the wet plap of him forcing the fabric of his tweng down enough for you to feel the weight of him on your back. You’re unsure if the tender caress from your sensitive belly up to the valley of your breast from his free hand is what makes you shiver, or the feeling of the heavy tip of his cock that still manages to hang down onto your body despite Ao'nungs desperate grip at his own base.
Instantly one of your hands reaches to clasp around his wrist that has moved electrifyingly close to your breast, dinging your nails into him ever so slightly, causing him to jerk slightly. You huff at the feeling of his tip smearing precum across the small of your back.
“I thought you wanted me to enjoy my morning- why must you torture me instead,”
There was that pretty desperate whine. That inexorable and perpetual babble that you put on to get the things you wanted from those around you. He wanted to say he had better resolve then them, but the sound of your frustration laced whine has the weight of his cock twitching against the pudge of your ass. The wrist you had grabbed onto continued its ascension up your body, fingers dancing up your neck until he could hold your mandible.
It’s endearing really, the view he’s greeted with. With the easy squish of the cute chub of your cheeks together between his big hand, he’s effortlessly forcing you to look up at him. The Metkayina were expressive, maybe because they signed to each other a great deal- you wouldn’t know. But you’d still thank Eywa for it, as you can’t deny the aura of pure desire that radiates off of his face like the heatwaves the morning sun had begun to cast across the horizon. Eyes blown out wide, and the ends of his kiss swollen lips curled into a soft smile.
A soft smile that doesn't match the feeling in your stomach when his big hand leaves your ass and wraps around the base of your kuru. You swear you see Eywa in his eyes, and he swears he hears her in your gasp. He’s quick to push his lips back onto yours despite the unnatural position. And though your spine and neck ache from the arch he has pulled you back into you can’t help but clank your teeth together as you kiss again. You’re not sure who’s spit is all over you both; all you know is the sloshing sound of your mouths and the embarrassing sound of water sloshing at the disturbance of his rocking hips that ground his twitching cock against your ass. He wanted to reach down and force your tail out of the way so he could relish in the feeling of you hammocking his throbbing cock- but he had something far more important to deal with.
The most beautiful girl in all of Pandora was sparkling in the sun below him, and you wanted him as terribly as he wanted you. He really did want you to enjoy your morning and promised himself you’d enjoy every morning after this one too.
“I need you,” You’re whining into his mouth.
The very woman he has painfully longed after- the love of his life- was moaning into his mouth as he kissed them. The huffy and croaked out, “Need all of you,” should have been all he needed to hear from you. All he had ever wanted to hear from you. Nonetheless, Ao’nungs egotistical charm was a facade. In actuality he was terribly insecure. In fact he couldn’t truly wrap his head around how he had even gotten this far with you. He grounds himself in the feeling of your heavy breaths against his lips before he speaks,
“Tell me how bad you want tsaheylu. Tell me how bad you want me to be your mate,”
He doesn’t mean the growling undertone of his voice, or the side to side grind of his hips against your ass, but he loves the feeling of your cute little tail rolling over his cock at the motion and he can’t control how good he feels. Your wide eyes would be enough consent, the adoration in your topaz iris unmistakable.
“Nga yawne lu oer,”
One of your hands reaches up to hook around his neck, letting your delicate hand wrap around the base of his own kuru. And in the same breath you just loved him in, you assure him-
“I see you, Ao’nung. I see the real you. I want you so bad,”
He would normally laugh at the weakened tug at his kuru, but all you want is for him to kiss you again. How could he laugh when his pretty girl is begging him so nicely? How can he not kiss you once more and run his big hand down your delicate kuru. Dance his fingers across the pretty, intricate and adorned goddess loc protecting it. Had he felt a bit meaner he would have twisted the little curls that escaped it’s end just to hear you squeal and whine.
He had more pressing matters. Something far more interesting for him to focus on. You had a bundle of nerves practically dying to be connected to him, flailing tendrils kissing the bottom of his abs. Desperately swiping across the water slicked skin of his stomach looking for his own nerves to curl and wrap into. You wanted to feel him. All of him and it drove him wild. By the time his fingers trail the nerves of your tswin you’re crying. Actual tears that clump your pretty long lashes together and redden the tip of your cute crinkled nose.
His throat hurts. Choking on his breath at your sparkling tears. He can’t help but use one strong arm to cradle you into his body, pulling your torso taught against his own and relishing in the feeling of your boobs squishing against his arm. He tries to sooth you, hushing you with a voice uncharacteristically gentle for the man you had spent the end of your childhood roughhousing and bantering with. 
“Shhh, tanhì,” his head is besides yours again, and you welcome the feeling of your cheeks rubbing together, and the gentle nuzzling of his face into the crook of your neck, “Nga yawne lu oer, why do you cry pretty baby?”
He feels you clench below your tail when he asks, and he feels bad for the bead of precum that squeezes on the dip of your spine again. Your soft quivering,
“‘s too much,” as you shake your head a bit, “feel’s too much,” your rounded red eyes peer up at him again. You’re blushing now, purple and pretty for him.
“Let me feel it with you then, ya?” Your noses are slotted against each other when he moves to speak against the crown of your head, ending his question with a kiss to your slightly furrowed forehead. He lets the arm bracing you against him slowly begin to tweak your ridged nipple between his fingers. Letting himself enjoy the feeling of it hardening between his thumb and pointer finger, “Please, Ao’- wanna feel you,”
There’s a chuckling undertone in his huff as you drop forward on your arms again, bracing your palms onto the watery ledge. Though he had wanted to pull you back up, the sight of you arching your back and grinding yourself back into him grants you reprieve from having to hold yourself up.
It was almost difficulty, shaking your hips against him as well as you could from your knelt position, yet the stones assault on your knees was barely an afterthought as you had finally arched yourself in such a way that Ao’nung’s balls had finally began to drag blissfully across your swollen clit.
He doesn’t think you’ve ever sounded so pretty. Practically purring under him and gasping as you grind yourself against him and he paws at your breast. He’s proven wrong when he watches you jolt at the feeling of the hair at the end of his kuru raise towards where he dropped yours against your back. You feel the teasing kisses of his own tendrils on the skin just before where your own danced wildly waiting for him, “One more time baby, tell me you want me. I need you t’be sure,”
Had you not been driven mad by the slow pace he had subjected you to you’d have felt bad for the obvious crack in his voice. You hated that he thought you didn’t love him, it’s what drove you to reach up and grab for the base of his own braid,
“Ao’nung if you don’t i’m going to lose my-“
You don’t finish your reprimand. You can’t. Not when you feel his tswin latch onto yours, pulling you tightly into him. Tsaheylu. You had ridden ikrans and ilus of course- but this was different. Like a rush below your skin that left you panting in his arms. You had never felt like this before. Never throbbed like this before. All you could do was squeal as a relentless wave of wetness practically leaked from your twitching cunt. In a desperate attempt to ground yourself from the sudden rush of fire across your body you raise you hand from the base of his own kuru to the mass of curls held up in a bun.
You didn’t mean to yank at the tie that kept them out of the way. In fact, you were shocked when his inky tresses fell forward, covering you in a curled veil of obsidian and forcing you to drown in the smell of salted ambergris of the sea and smoke that was permanently locked in the ringlets of Ao’nungs mane. It blocked you from perceiving anything that wasn’t him, not only could you feel him, you couldn’t see anything besides him. He had engulfed your senses the same way he had engulfed your mind.
“Oh f-uck,” Eywa save you, his throaty whine makes you drop your body weight against the arm that had originally only been ghosting across your breasts, rendering you into a blubbering pile of putty forced to listen to him practically moan into your ear that, “I had no idea you were feeling so good baby,”
You can hear the swish of his paddled tail as it escapes the confines of the spring that you’d blame the sweat accumulating on your body to. You can feel how absolutely delighted he was. Though you couldn’t physically see where your nerves became his you couldn’t shake the picture between your eyes. As though the pretty loop of your braids had been branded behind the eyelid of your third eye by your mate.
“Ma’ pretty mate wants me so badly,” his opposite hand meanly grips at the fat of your hip, pulling you up to him.
You felt like a rag doll, pulled up against him just so he could grind you up and down against his length. He can understand why you were crying now. You felt a lot of emotions for having such a small form, it’s probably why you had the attitude problems you did. The mixture of panic and uncontrolled longing that tickled the pit of your stomach was an addicting feeling to him however. He makes a cruel grab at the base of your tail caressing his thumb on the smooth, sensitive skin under your tail.
“You’re either gonna move your tail out of my way or I'm going to move it for you,”
He’s straightening his back a bit as he speaks, arm sliding to let you go slightly, though his grip on your tit stays firm. Almost too quickly your tail curls up to give him a view he’s been dying for since he’s stumbled upon you this morning.
You’re swollen and flushed and so wet. He wonders how long you’ve been this sticky. And you don’t even care that he’s practically drooling over the sight of your pretty tail curled up because that pretty useless head of yours is too busy swirling with silly little thoughts about how much you loved him. He was sure it was some evolutionary effect to get people to keep having kids to keep their species alive, but to Ao’nung nothing has ever felt real to him. Maybe love was a scam for everyone else, but for him? Eywa herself couldn’t offer him more than the moment in front of him.
“Prettiest thing I ever fucking seen,” His hand had to leave your azure tail to palm at himself. He had only just began to realize how badly he was throbbing for you, “Need you so bad too,”
You rub yourself against him, pushing one of your hands down on the rock to offer more pressure
“Ao’nung please, i’ll be okay you can-“
You’re cut off with your own shaken breath when you feel him rub the blunt end of himself against your sticky slit. 
“Nu-uh,” he’s hunched forward over you again, rubbing the head of his cock against your slit, “you can’t take it like this,”
It’s your turn to feel shared panic. Not that you focus on it, choosing to clutch to his arms as the speed of his steadily rubbing intrusions picks up. It feels good. Too good on your still stoned, too stimulated body. Too good considering you can feel how good he feels. Every time the tip of his cock slides over your swollen clit and catches another glob of slick that only makes it easier to speed his assault up you moan.
Your thighs clench against him, but it does little to deter him. Not at his size. Not when he’s obsessed with the fact that he’s so much bigger than you. There wasn’t a thing you could do to keep him from making you cum. It really was foolish for you to clench your thighs. It only served to create a new angle for him to rub against. The smile you can hear in his moans is almost as embarrassing as the sloshing sound of your cunt at the enjoyable pace he had set.
He really did want to finger you, he wanted to feel your pretty cunt clench down around his pointer and middle finger too terribly but he can’t avoid the painful throb of his cock any longer. He’d been ignoring the pulse of his lower stomach since he had first seen the heavenly image of you sitting nude in the water watching the pink and lilac sky kiss stars goodbye. He was glad you seemed to like the intrusion of him practically jerking himself into you. Coating his cock in the enticingly scented albumen of your slick. He could cum probably, if he wasn’t already buzzing with overstimulation.
The naive part of him is confused when he watches your hips roll away from him, thighs clenching. Maybe it means you want him away from you, but all he can feel is the part of you screaming in his brain to keep going. So his hips follow yours so he can continue the sloppy drag of his cock-head though your folds. He’s starstruck when he catches on your clit rather roughly and is gifted with the sight of your spazzaming leaking cunt.
He’s so occupied with the liquid leaving you’re pretty swollen hole that the hand holding your chest up drops down to your tail again, yanking your hips up. He drops his cock from his hands to continue his assault on you with his fingers to rub faster then he previously was. You scream and he’s never been happier. The sight of him holding you up by your tail (that now wraps up around his forearm) while you brace yourself up by your hands as he rubs an orgasm from you, extending it as far as he could.
He knows he made you feel good and it only adds to how good he feels. If he was a bit more shameless he’d have probably busted the second you started leaking onto his swollen tip. His patience was almost in vain as he watched you lay your head on your arms, sitting up on your knees more to arch your back for him.
“Ao’ wan’ you to feel good too,”
So considerate of him always. He can feel the throb of your pretty pussy from where he still holds your tail. He laughs a little, he can’t help it. It’s a little mean when he sends a softish spank to where your ass meets your thigh. It’s mostly just to see your pretty body jolt under him, and to hear your pretty whine but it’s also to give him a second to compose himself. He’s not trying to claim your pretty azure skin with his cum yet.
And you look at him with those pretty slitted eyes, plump lips curled into the softest snarl he’s ever seen on your bratty little face. He doesn’t mean to so unceremoniously hunch down to catch your face in his palm and kiss you. He’s just so excited that he finally has what he wants.
“I can put it in ya?” He mumbles against your lips, 
“Gonna let me make you feel good?” He questions again, and it’s his turn for a twitch to shoot up his cock to the soft patch of fat below his abs at your pretty moan.
“Ao’ you can! You y-you don’t have to ask,”
He ignores the amusement over how snappy your sentence started, yet ended in hiccupy adoration filled stumbles. Once again he’s lining himself up against your slit, and with the added force you can finally feel the girth of him. You’re thankful he hasn’t let you see him fully yet, worried the sight might have unsettled you more than the feeling.
He has to refrain himself from shooting forward, shoving you full in one snap of his hips. Has to stand up and slide his weighty dick between your cheeks to lay it on your back just to remind himself how deep he’d be in you. Sliding against you for a few lazy thrusts just to admire the view. He's dumbfounded at how intrusive his cock would be in comparison to whatever Omatikaya loser Eywa had intended for you to be mated with before he had set his eyes on you. One hand moves to spread your cheek one more time, the other returning to its place on his cock to help guide him between your folds. He starts groaning as he pushes the tip in.
Warm. Fuck you’re warmer then the suns rays on his back. Warmer than the heat his downed hair traps around him. And you match his moan. A hypnotizing harmonization that’s only paused when he feels a foreign stinging. A warm burn where he had never felt pain before, and though it was nothing more than an inconvenience he couldn’t stand the idea of his girl in any pain. You didn’t even get a chance to whine at the stretch before two if his large fingers are clamoring over your bud, trying his best to roll tight figure eights to lessen the sting for you.
Ao’nung can’t help but be confused. He can feel you slicking up his cock as he pushes in, the sheer wetness welcoming him in with almost ease. The only resistance the clenching muscle could offer against his intrusion was the sheer tightness of it.
Why is one hand reaching up to dig your pretty nails into his thigh, to scratch and push at him even though you’re feeling so good? Do you forget he can feel you? Can he blame it on you feeling too good? He’s not even half way into you and yet your hips keep stuttering away from him. He’s even paused his movement to appreciate your little huffs over being split open on him,
“You are alright,” you feel one his hands wrap around your waist, guiding you to sit up on your knees all the way out of the water, forcing his cock to slide out slightly. He makes sure to guide your face up towards you, forcing your eyes to lock on his. 
His big hand then sides under your thigh and pulls your one leg up. It’s an embarrassing display, Ao’nung holding one of your legs up against your chest so he could force the remnants of his aching cock into your hole.
“Ya yer pussy knows it’s mine. Good girl sucking me right in,”
Both of your round exultant eyes are locked onto each other as he bottoms out, his words making you clench down. You marvel at the flush of his face and the hiss that falls past his teeth after the wet plap of his balls hit your ass. You swear you can feel him against your fruit filled stomach. As though he had truly impaled you on something. There was no way he could have prepared you for such a stretch. It was nothing like any of the self imposed violations against your cunt by your own fingers- what Ao’nung was doing to you was entirely different. This was beyond any girlish fantasy that had ever crossed your mind about the man.
"I need a second please-wait,” you sound so desperate for someone who knows that he’d never think of pushing you past your limit- not this time, not like this. Not when you’ve been so kind as to let him mate with you. He doesn’t answer you, kissing up and down your neck and shoulders. Allowing himself to bite and suck as he rolls your clit between his fingers,
“Deep breath baby, I already taught you how to breathe. Don’t make me do it again,”
There’s a smile against your throat as you feel him suck particularly hard, it makes you smile too. You don’t know why you listen to him, taking in a deep breath and craning your neck to lay against his chest.
His ego has skyrocketed. Feeling how much you liked being crammed down on his dick while he played with your pretty clit, legs spread wide for him. He hasn't even really gotten started and you feel twitchy like before you came. He can admit you’re clouding his brain quicker then he intended. He hadn’t felt so brain dead since his very first rut (which he had spent the entirety of silently fixated on you). He doesn’t really mean to shift his hips, doesn’t mean to push his fat cock deeper into your sweet little hole-
"Ah fuck, too big- it's too big!"
The sight of your furrowed eyes looking up at him makes his chest tighten and his dick a little harder. You didn’t mean it- even if he could feel the aftershock of the burn that dances across your nervous system into his. He knows you don’t mean it cause you’re grinding your pretty cunt against him. Chasing the high his fingers against your clit are providing. 
“Stop ya whining,” he knows he’s been nice enough to you. Which is why he pinches down on your swollen clit ever so gently, twisting softly between the pads of his fingers ruining how close to a second release you were. It feels good when it makes you jump and impale yourself deeper against his cock, "Maybe you're just really fucking tiny,"
And with his words he begins the slow roll of his hips forward. After the few experimental rolls of his hips in conjunction with his comforting mumbles that you would be fine, Ao’nung feels that he can finally pull almost all the way out of you. You hate the feeling of being empty so suddenly, and are almost too loud when he begins to deliver shallow thrust into you. The water of the spring is splashing below you, and the sound of the spring mixed with the violent wet slapping of your skin together would alert anyone who got too close to the springs as to the torture Ao’nung was putting you though.
As if he is reading your mind (he probably is in one way or another) his mean hand grips the fat of your thigh tighter, and forces the leg higher in effort to open you more- so far even that you feel your lips part completely- as he uses the fat of your thigh as reigns to deliver deeper thrust.
“Ya yer right, anyone could walk out here with your legs wide fuckin open for me, huh?” he starts, and you wrap your tail around his torso to keep yourself stabilized against his thrusts into you, “Toruk Maktos daughter getting fucked stupid in public,”
He’s biting you again, just to hear that pretty little squeal and feel your pussy clamp down on him. He knows he should wait just a little longer before revving up the brutality of his pace- but the sight of you drove him to madness. And feeling your fingers reaching up to knot into his hair and yank only spurs him on more.
Feeling you cum felt better the second time then the first time. Is dizzying how quickly this one crashes over you. He’s a little disappointed that there’s a lack of liquid to splash against his muscular thighs this time, but promised himself your third would be messy after seeing the creamy ring you left around his cock. A welcome addition of more lubricate so he could comfortably drag against your spongy wall. It mind numbing how good it felt to fuck you though it- he was sure you were tearing up his thighs with your pretty up kept nails but he couldn’t be bothered with the white hot burn when he feels the lingering throb of your orgasm.
“Wrap your arms around my neck, baby,” he pleads with his lips against you, thrusting at an almost animalistic pace. 
The up kick in the power of his thrust distracts you. You don’t move quick enough for him as he growls, smacking at the bundle of nerves between your legs. It’s all it takes for you to jolt and snap your arms above you and wrap them around his neck.
It knocks the wind out of your smoke assaulted lungs when his other arm loops around your other thigh. Heaving you out of the water into his arms. You see the world from an uncomfortably high angle as he stands straighter. Gasping as you grasp the inky tendrils of his hair in a painful tug.
“Oh fuck,”
It’s sinful, the way he’s slamming you up and down on him. Bouncing you in the air like a toy. Small and weightless in his hands as he used you to cum. There was an ache in your hips at the position, the sea breeze against your exposed cunt only edged you on more though. You were shaking in his hands, and he’s never seen you so delicate and vulnerable for him- he’d be sure to make fun of how quickly his dick turned your sour bratty mood into nothing but a brain dead euphoric smile.
“All you fucking needed all these years, huh?” he asks you, “Woulda saved me so much grief if I had just mated with you then, huh?”
He isn’t expecting an answer, just mindlessly babbling to himself as he slides against the spongey spot of your cunt. It’s amazing to him how you jerk in his arms, stretching yourself backwards to clutch onto his neck better, straining your head sideways to pull at his hair and yank him into another sloppy kiss. Your wet lips are chilled by his breath as he pulls away,
“Touch your pussy for me baby, I wan’na cum so bad,”
As if he needs to feel your orgasm rip across his nervous system to make him cum. How could you deny the pretty aqua eyes pleading with you. It doesn’t feel as good when you do it considering you had grown so used to his much larger fingers padding against you but it still felt good. Too good to be so dirty. Too good to be mated in the early hours of the morning in a public space. His hips jerk up to match the painful drop of your ragdolled body against him and it makes you see stars. Stars that were successful in blinding him as well.
“Ya that’s it baby, don’t stop-“
It hurts to clench down on him. The painful snap behind your belly button could only be met with you dead weighing your body down deeper onto his cock and the fluttering push of your plush cunt.
He could have topped over with the speed he used to look down over your shoulder. He didn’t want to miss the sight of your pussy cumming for him. Not when you show him how much his pretty pussy can gush for him. He thought the small splash of liquid from your first orgasm was squirting- but at the sight of the liquid that sprays against the rocks ahead of you his thrusts grow sloppy. He doesn’t know how he was so lucky to have your juices splash up into him but he’s thankful for it- never wants the smell of you to leave his face.
How can he not want to cum at the feeling of your body completely giving into him. Laying limp in his big arms while he fucked up into you. There was no clenching resistance of your fluttering hole or pulling yourself up off of his body. Only his pretty girl in his arms getting filled the way no other man could ever fill her.
He hates how bad it hurts to slide out of you when he feels himself starting to cum. You offer no support in keeping his composure as your fingers slide down from where they rested on your cunt and gently caress the tips of your fingers against his tightening ballsack.
“You’re gonna make me cum,”
He knows he’ll never live down the breathy gasp of his words or moaning the way he does for you. He prays no one is within earshot of the wanton moans that leave his throat but he can’t help himself. You’re so wet and warm and tight. He swore there wasn’t a pussy in all of Pandora that would milk him half as well.
And Eywa, when he finally finds the strength to give in and pull out and your small palm wraps around the head of his cock, twisting and jerking him until an embarrassingly fat load shoots from him- he can't stop the loud growl that his moans turn into.
He would accredit the buckle of his knees to the fact that you were failing at aiming his cum towards your belly due to the erratic jerking of your hand against the tip of his cock, sending his cum not only over your pretty body, but shooting haphazardly onto the floor and most likely into the water. But the real reason for his weak legs was the sweet and huffed way you were babbling that you would love him forever.
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