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countlessimagines · 2 years ago

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Star Lord’s Sister [ Adam Warlock x Reader ]

GOTG VOLUME 3 SPOILERS!!!

Summary: Star lord’s sister takes a liking to the new member of the Guardians

A/N: my beloved!!! <3

Ever since you met Adam Warlock, he had been head over heels for you. Constantly following you around, wanting to be by your side 24/7, interested in your hobbies, and so much more.

You honestly didn’t mind it and found it adorable. And you would be lying if you said you weren’t catching feelings too.

Adam and you had been on quite a few dates since meeting and tried to spend most of your time together since Rocket always whisked him away for Guardians’ duties. He would always pout when he had to leave, but would always kiss you with so much passion, that the rest of the guardians would gag while boarding the ship.

And your brother seemed to not enjoy the constant hanging out together as much as you did. Peter had begun to call you at the end of each week from Earth to catch up on what was going on. He quickly noticed your interests began to revolve around Adam and you two seemed to be attached to the hip.

“So, the guy saves me and you fall madly in love with him?” Peter snickered and shook his head. “I leave for a few months and already it sounds like you two are married.”

You rolled your eyes at your brother’s response, not wanting to hear any of his nonsense. “So what? I am an adult and can do whatever I please.”

“Okay sure, let me know when the wedding is.”

You were about to fire back until Adam walked in from the bathroom only in a towel, saw Peter on the monitor, and promptly fell to the ground and army crawled away.

You groaned and dragged your hand across your face. “Adam!”

“Hey hey wait a minute! I was joking about the wedding, Adam get your ass back to the screen!” Peter began to shout over the screen. “Stay away from my sister!”

“Okay bye, love you!” You hurried and ended the call quickly.

Adam rose from behind the side of the bed and shrugged innocently when you turned to him. You picked up a pillow from the ground and tossed it at his head.

“Sweetheart! I told you I was calling my brother, he was finally warming up to the idea of us,” you stood up and laid flat on the bed. “Now he’s seen you half naked in my place so I can only imagine he’s going to fly all the way here to beat you up.”

Adam shuffled into clothes and flopped beside you. “I would like to see him try to keep me away from you.”

You faced him and couldn’t help but melt at his cute pouty face. “Yeah yeah, but please don’t hurt my brother if he tries to kick your ass.”

Adam nodded and grabbed you lovingly in his arms. “Can we just stay in today?”

“Why’s that?” You mumbled into his chest.

“Because I rather cuddle my girlfriend than help rocket on a mission today.” Adam kissed your forehead repeatedly and made you giggle uncontrollably.

“Stop stop!” You said and pushed on his chest. “Why don’t you go tell rocket that you can’t make it and then we can have a lazy day in?”

Adam planted a kiss on your check, stood up, saluted you, then quickly left to get out of saving the world today - simply because his world was too cute to leave.

An hour went by without Adam returning, and it wasn’t until your monitor began to beep did you put two and two together. You answered the call that was coming from the Guardians’ ship and saw Adam’s face pop up, and he was in full gear.

You shook your head and sighed, “Care to explain yourself?”

“Okay, well,” Adam dragged off his voice and moved a bit from the screen to point an accusing finger towards Rocket, “He told me it would only take an hour, but once I got on the ship he told me it was a two day trip.”

Rocket popped up and said, “Sorry for stealing your boyfriend, (Y/N). You’ll have to cuddle your pillow the next couple of nights. The world needs Warlock, and trust me I wouldn’t bring his bright gold self unless it was necessary.”

Rocket jumped away when Adam tried to wack him.

“I’m sorry my love. I promise it will go by quick and I’ll be back before you can say ‘I have the best boyfriend in the whole wide galaxy and he’s gonna smother me in kisses when he returns!’” Adam tried to do a high pitched voice to imitate you to which you rolled your eyes.

“Alright, whatever you say,” you waved and blew a kiss to him before ending the call.

The next few days were uneventful, and you were knocked out asleep when your guardians pin began to beep and pulled you out of sleep.

You pressed on it and spoke into it sleepily, “what’s wrong?”

Rocket’s urgent voice spoke through the comm, and it made you wake up fully. “(Y/N)! Prepare med packs! Adam got hit and we need to work on him urgently!”

You rushed out of your apartment and down flights of stairs before running to the supply closet. You pressed your comm again to speak to Nebula. Once she finally answered, you explained quickly what was going on and she was next to you within minutes to set up for their arrival.

It wasn’t long before Kraglin rushed in with Adam slumped over his shoulder, barely responsive. He placed him on a nearby table while you grabbed Adam’s hand and tried to figure out what was wrong with him.

“He took a blow to his stomach, we should be able to patch him up quickly but the beast repeatedly hit him in the wound… making him bleed out.” Kraglin was rushing his words, not making complete sense but still wanting to explain everything.

You nodded as Nebula put a med pack on his stomach, hoping it would help. Adam started to breath deeply and you let out a small cry seeing him in such distress.

A part of you knew that the pack would either help or just make the situation worse. As Adam didn’t wake up quickly enough to be okay, you grabbed a sewing kit, alcohol, and a towel.

Removing the med pack, you removed his vest and immediately began to work with Nebula’s help. It was a tense moment, only the sounds of Adam’s breathing could be heard in the room.

Not too long after you finished the stitch across his stomach and placed the med pack on his wound to finish the healing process. Everyone let out a breath of relief as Adam began to breath normally again.

“You guys can go and clean up, I bet you all have some wounds that need to be tended to.” You said to Kraglin and Rocket who nodded.

Nebula reassured Rocket that she wouldn’t leave you alone. You smiled gratefully at her as you grabbed Adam’s hand and pulled up a chair beside the table.

“I’m gonna wait a few hours before trying to move him to my place.”

Hours went by and you had fallen asleep, still holding tightly onto Adam, not wanting to let go in fear something bad would happen if you did. It was in those moments, going in and out of sleep - that you both realized how much you truly loved one another. It was a selfless and innocent love, something so pure that nothing would come in-between the two of you.

Adam had woken up first, confused and sore, but the moment he saw you slumped over the table, holding his hand - he instantly calmed down. He was so relieved he made it back alive and was with you again. He remembered his promise he made and kissed your hand repeatedly to wake you up.

With a startled jump, you woke up in a frenzy and immediately checked to see if something was wrong.

“Did I worry you?” Adam said softly, gazing lovingly at you.

“Oh, so so much.” You placed a hand on his cheek, so happy to see him awake and well. “I think I might have to kidnap you from missions from now on until you’re better.”

“Trust me, I am going to try to take less advice from Rocket and Groot on missions… and take a break.” Adam said and shuttered as if remembering how he ended up in the situation in the first place.

“I’m just happy you’re home,” you smiled and placed a kiss on his cheek.

Adam became teary-eyed at the thought of you being his home. After being pulled out of the cocoon too early and losing his mother, he had felt like he would never feel at home anywhere and be lost without anything to live for. Thankfully, he was wrong. He had found you and the guardians, and now he could go home to someone who loved and cared for him. And Peter would be lying if he said he wasn’t happy that you had found someone to love. In the whole of the galaxy, your brother was happy you had Adam.

#adam warlock #adam warlock x reader #will poulter x reader #will poulter #gotg #gotg volume 3 spoilers #gotg imagine #gotg vol 3 #Peter quill #Star lord #Gamora #nebula #rocket raccoon #mantis #drax #guardians of the galaxy #Adam warlock imagine #will poulter imagine

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mktskii · 17 days ago

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—Burnt Pancakes and a Loser in Denial

—Synopsis: As a newcomer in a busy restaurant kitchen, you’re a disaster waiting to happen, and Bakugou Katsuki isn’t shy about making that clear. The hot-headed line cook has no time for incompetence, and yet he finds himself begrudgingly stuck with you—his clumsy, relentlessly upbeat coworker who can barely crack an egg. Frustrated with your lack of skill, Bakugou can't explain the nagging urge to keep an eye on you or why your laugh sticks in his mind long after you’ve clocked out. Somewhere between burnt pancakes and late-night cleanups, Bakugou is forced to confront the unsettling truth: he just might be falling for the one person he insists he can’t stand.

—Pairing: Line Cook!Bakugou Katsuki x AFAB!Newbie Line Cook!Reader

—Genre: Slice-of-life, comedy, romance

—Tags: unrequited love (sort of), slow burn, workplace, oblivious crush, enemies to (one-sided) lovers, Bakugou Katsuki x reader, harsh Bakugou, denial, quirkless AU

—Notes: ..uh...hi everyone. soooo exuse my insanly long absence. i could use my excuse that I had lined up but would it really matter?? MOVING ON! i got this idea from @/tokenirainanfriend on tiktok soo go follow him ! THE SERIES WILL BE ON HOLD soly because..well..i need ideas. if you all have any, PLEASE message me! i would like to keep it going for a while. also, apologies to people who can actually cook, I'm taking away your skills for this one. ENJOY!!

Bakugou didn’t understand how anyone could be this goddamn dense. Not in a million years would he have guessed that someone who managed to survive in the world, breathe in and out each day, would lack the most basic ability to crack an egg without turning it into a massacre. And yet, here you were, assigned as his new coworker in the bustling, chaotic depths of the kitchen—his kingdom.

As the restaurant’s most efficient line cook, he’d established a meticulous routine to keep things running at the rapid pace they needed to. No time for nonsense. But now? With you around, it was as if the world itself had taken a nosedive into hellfire. He couldn’t go two seconds without hearing you calling his name over the clattering sounds of spatulas, saucepans, and the relentless sizzle of grills.

“Hey, Bakugou..uh,” you called timidly from behind him, holding a spatula in a death grip.

“What?” He turned, already bracing for whatever catastrophe you were brewing.

You offered him a plate of burnt, vaguely pancake-like shapes. “Do these look…right?”

He took one look. Actually— one GLANCE, and he felt two emotions. Disbelief and pure anger.

“Do they look right?" He scoffed "They look like somethin’ crawled out of a dumpster and got hit by a truck. What the hell do you call that?” He didn’t wait for you to respond, grabbing the plate and practically throwing it into the trash. “You don’t call it food, that’s for sure.”

The embarrassment on your face was plain as day, but you bit your lip, nodded, and set to remaking the pancakes with an exhausted sigh. Bakugou had half a mind to scream—honestly, just to get it out of his system. Why the hell did it bug him that you looked so damn disappointed? It was your own fault for taking a job you clearly had no skills for. And yet…

Goddammit, it pissed him off.

It shouldn’t have, but every time you tripped over your own feet trying to get out of his way, or when you muttered a soft “sorry” as if your very presence was an inconvenience, it lit some unidentifiable fuse in him. Not the usual, angry fuse—something else, something gnawing and ridiculous that had his stomach tying up in impossible knots.

And he wasn’t about to let that feeling win.

A few weeks in, the irritation only intensified. The kitchen was a battleground, and you were making him lose his mind. Bakugou was convinced you were planted there to make him suffer—some sort of karmic punishment for every curse he’d ever muttered and every rude remark he’d thrown.

But something was wrong.

Because somewhere between your second attempt at pancakes and your third night shift, Bakugou found himself…observing you. Watching out of the corner of his eye as you focused, cheeks red with effort, brow furrowed as you strained to not mess up. If someone so much as raised their voice at you (and he was well aware, he’d done more than his fair share), he felt his blood boil with some twisted, misguided desire to tell them to back off.

And he despised that feeling.

Every time he caught himself, Bakugou wanted to smash his head against the freezer door.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” he muttered under his breath, scrubbing a pan with more aggression than necessary. But when you glanced his way, offering that usual tentative smile, it was like the damn pan wasn’t even in his hand anymore. For all he knew, it had slipped from his grasp and clattered to the floor—but it wouldn’t have mattered, not with the way his pulse thrummed a little harder, just because of you.

“Did you need any…uh, any help, Bakugou?” you asked quietly, probably hoping not to set off his temper.

It was so ridiculous, he almost laughed—almost.

“Pfft, as if I’d need your help. Just don’t get in my way, alright?” he shot back, trying to ignore the weird pang in his chest at the dejection on your face. But before he could stop himself, he added, “But, uh…I mean, maybe later, if you’re still here, you could work on, I dunno, keeping up with me. No sense in dragging everyone down.”

There was that smile again, softer this time. “I’ll do my best, then.”

Bakugou glared at the pan, willing his pulse to slow down, all the while knowing this was some cosmic joke at his expense.

It wasn’t until one night—one particularly quiet closing shift—that the reality hit him like a two-ton truck.

You were cleaning up the kitchen, humming softly under your breath, and Bakugou was stuck restocking supplies, fuming at the sight of you so…comfortable, so at home in the space you’d once fumbled around in.

And for reasons he could barely understand, he just…watched you. Not out of annoyance or critique, not out of irritation, but just because.

For once, you weren’t trying to make conversation, and he wasn’t telling you off. You looked…content. And when you laughed softly to yourself—at some thought he’d never know—his chest squeezed so tight he was damn sure he’d forgotten how to breathe.

“Hey, idiot,” he muttered, so low he wasn’t sure if you’d even heard him.

You turned, eyebrows raised, that smile making his stomach churn. “Yeah?”

For a moment, he lost track of every insult, every complaint he’d been about to throw at you. Instead, he felt his cheeks burn, and he cursed under his breath, forcing himself to look away.

“Forget it,” he said gruffly, busily organizing the shelf with furious precision. But his mind was already spiraling into the depths of horror: Oh, no. Hell no. No way. This is not happening.

Bakugou Katsuki, a guy who’d barely thought twice about anyone, was…interested? Him? In you?

The thought was absurd. Impossible. But it sat there in his mind, solid as a rock, completely unmoving and irritatingly present. He wanted to punch something—or better yet, punch the feeling itself out of his gut.

For the next hour, he did everything he could to avoid looking your way, stomping around the kitchen like he was gearing up for war, trying to deny this…this idiotic pull. He wasn’t some clueless fool—he’d seen people fall over themselves, getting all mushy and soft around others. But that wasn’t him, dammit.

Yet the feeling sat there, mocking him.

And when you called out, “Goodnight, Bakugou. See you tomorrow!” as you walked out the door, he barely managed a stiff nod. He had an insane urge to follow after you, to make sure you got home safe. Stupid. You can take care of yourself. And it’s not like you’d want him hovering around, anyway.

He slumped against the counter, rubbing his face, silently willing this “crush” or whatever it was to just burn out like a candle in the wind. But he knew it wouldn’t. Not as long as he saw you, talked to you, heard that laugh and saw that damn smile.

Bakugou Katsuki, now a loser in love, was stuck. He’d be damned before he ever admitted it out loud.

Reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

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skrrts · 4 months ago

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just like that (oneshot)

✧ gn!reader x mingi & gn!reader & ex!yunho ✧ all three are university students close to graduation ✧ genre: non-idol, slice of life, exes to friends, friends to lovers, first kiss ✧ word count: 6,9k ✧ warnings: food/eating, woosan joke

You first met Yunho and his best friend at university, and when you and Yunho started dating, the three of you soon became inseparable. Even after the breakup, things didn't really change, but lately, Mingi seems a little more clumsy around you, and Yunho is quite eager to encourage some time alone between the two of you.

a/n: i just wanted to write something soft for this trope without any tension. just 3 silly university students trusting and supporting one another. also, i noticed that best!friend yunho is something i really like writing, he's just the best but don't worry, he might find love in the strangest of places himself.

Summer — the time for weeks of freedom without worrying about project deadlines and exams, or a chance to make some money to make your final year more memorable. It seemed strange how quickly time had flown by. Before you knew it, only two semesters remained until graduation. One year before you were expected to have it all figured out, with the rest of your life ahead and the comfortable years behind you.

You didn’t see it that way, no matter how much your parents urged you to plan for the next decade when you weren’t even ready to part with this very moment. University had been a wild time, not only because you switched majors, made many new friends, and had your first boyfriend. It was a time for you to just be, shaking off the awkwardness of high school and becoming your own person far from home.

It wasn’t an easy time, but looking back now, you were thankful for the experiences and the special people now in your life — one of them being Jeong Yunho.

It had been a cliché start: the cute boy sitting near you in the local library. You exchanged little glances that later turned into small, silly notes left in the books when one of you went to buy a bottle of water or pick up another book. Your first date was a walk through the park with milkshakes in hand, sharing stories about childhood, books, and nature.

You had never been in love before — not really. Sure, there were those high school relationships that didn’t last longer than a few weeks and were only meant to fit in. Everyone dated someone, so you had to as well.

Yunho made you feel what love was supposed to for the first time: he was always there without asking you to give up your free time. He helped you with projects and studying while ensuring you took breaks you’d have otherwise skipped. He even taught you how to properly take photos, with small weekend trips to nearby places.

More than once, the two of you were accompanied by Mingi, Yunho’s childhood and best friend. The two of them were always together if he wasn’t with you, and the deep level of trust between them was something you admired.

Yunho was always there, not only to support Mingi in the same ways he did with you but also as a mental aid during moments when someone who seemed as confident as Mingi struggled a little.

You loved spending time with both of them: Yunho, who was gentle and quick to understand, and Mingi, who was reckless and curious, always up for some nonsense but yearning for a bit of attention. It wasn’t rare for the two of you to tug him into the middle when watching Netflix horror movies because it was a little too intense, or he had a bad day. All of that felt natural, and within the year and a half you dated, people got used to the sight of the couple and the best friend showing up together at almost all events.

The day Yunho and you broke up, most people couldn’t believe it. In their eyes, there had never been any indicator of struggle or conflict because there was none. Nobody but the two of you understood it. When you were honest with yourselves, you quickly realized that after some time, you felt more like friends than lovers.

Sometimes, crushes were fleeting, and it seemed you made a better match as friends rather than lovers. Because it was a mutual agreement, nothing really changed, except for the absence of handholding and kisses. In fact, the friendship may have grown even stronger.

Unlike you, Mingi and Yunho didn’t live in a dorm but rented a small apartment about half an hour off campus. It was located in a building with a small convenience store and owned by a sweet lady who always complimented Yunho for his good manners. It was small; the two shared one bedroom, and there was only so much space, but you loved how comfortable and homely it felt with all the little details unique to the best friends, unlike a dorm with its limitations.

A small breeze from the window made the heat of the day a little more bearable. Mingi was quietly playing a playlist he made the other day while browsing on his phone, the gentle typing of Yunho’s keyboard added to the sound while you were simply hanging with your head forward off the couch, playing with your outdated Nintendo DS. It was difficult to tell whether you were too sentimentally connected to all those old games or refused to invest so much in a Switch. Maybe you were still waiting for your parents to change their minds about you being too old to play and gift you one for a special occasion.

“Did you read Hongjoong’s email about the graduation hoodies?” Yunho’s voice disturbed the silence and made you look up, a small sigh escaping as Link was overrun by evil little mushrooms.

It seemed like a good excuse to sit up, brushing back your hair as you opened the bottle to take the last few gulps of water, regretting you didn’t buy another one before coming upstairs.

“The design is really cool, a little flashy, but that makes sense considering how an art major designed them,” you hummed, remembering the unique design and choice of colors. Hongjoong graduated recently, but he had taken it upon himself to help the next round come up with a unique piece of clothing they’d always have to remember their time as students.

“Isn’t it a little too early?” Mingi muttered. “I mean, it’s still an entire year and quite a bit of money. I get it’s like a unique piece, never to be reproduced, but what if one of us doesn’t make it? Maybe we have to take another semester because we failed all important exams!”

Yunho frowned but there was a small smile on his lips: “Mingi, except for the one class you didn’t care for and which isn’t even required for your graduation, your grades have been really good and stable in the past two semesters. There’s no reason why you wouldn’t graduate with us.”

You pushed yourself up, walking over to his bed, tilting your head: “Exactly, there is no way we would let you fail any of them anyway, idiot. Did you forget? We all agreed once we were done, no matter what our families said, we’d go on this road trip together for one month!”

You grinned, arms crossed as you spoke of it fondly, the tickling sensation of excitement rushing through your body as you thought about it. Yunho came up with the idea when you planned one of your little weekend trips together, how it would be a sweet treat after all the work and stress this last year would bring. Maybe it was also a proper way to say goodbye to this part of your life.

You hadn’t decided yet, but there was a consideration of maybe moving abroad for a little, to see the world. Then, you couldn’t deny the idea of moving to the same city as your two friends and remaining close to your family was just as good.

“How could I forget? You forced me to practice setting up tents with you the other day,” he stuck out his tongue, leading you to grin.

“Well, that was part of the project and you said you’d help me in return for making that PowerPoint for you. Also, it’s a mandatory skill to know how to set up a tent. Think of all the times you will need it: road trips, music festivals, maybe you will be an uncle and your nephew wants to go camping in the garden.”

Yunho chuckled: “Y/N isn’t wrong. Now, how about the three of us worry a little less? Just make the order with the size and number you want. Hongjoong will leave for Tokyo soon and it makes sense he wants to get this done before, especially since production takes several months anyway.”

The tallest closed his notebook and stood up, stretching carefully. For a moment, he glanced over at the two of you like there was something else he wanted to say, but his eyes lingered on Mingi’s face, noticing how it was a little redder than usual and how his gaze was a little too long at you.

But you didn’t notice because you were busy rambling ahead, trying to encourage Mingi and reminding him how you believed in him. There was no way one of you would be left behind; you’d graduate together.

“Hey, Y/N. Mingi and I wanted to binge-watch this show together, you know the one we saw in the trailer? Want to join us?” Yunho asked casually, already busy collecting his laundry. As neat as he was with everything else, the home of the two boys was a bit of a mess at times, hinting they often spent little time there and left in a rush.

You blinked, turning around to him, index finger tapping against your cheek as you tried to recall what show he was talking about. Shared movie nights were quite common and there were too many releases to keep track of all of them. In the end, it wouldn’t matter. You had no other plans and the heat wasn’t too inviting to forcefully spend the evening outside either.

“Sure, sounds good. Do you want me to bring anything?” you stretched a little and started to shove your stuff back into your backpack. If you were going for a movie night, you’d likely stay over and it was nicer to wash up before and get some other things.

Yunho seemed to think about it: “Hm, I believe we have everything we need and besides, we live above a convenience store. But maybe you could pick up dinner on the way? I’d make an order at our usual place and you just have to pick it up.”

As always, Yunho had everything planned and you nodded: “Sure thing! Sounds like we are set up for the night. Then, I will head back to the dorm for a little while, take a shower, and pick up some clothes. I also have to call my mom; she wanted to tell me about this wedding.”

Mingi rolled over to sit up: “My mom likes to do that too and then she asks me what I think about it, and here I am, just struggling to decide over a hoodie.”

The three of you chuckled, and you pulled the bag over your shoulder, placing the sunglasses on your nose: “I will be going then.”

Yunho stopped, flashing you one of his kind smiles: “Walk safely then. Mingi will accompany you to the crossroad. Looking forward to tonight.”

“I will? Why?” Mingi asked now, looking confused at his best friend who threw a dirty shirt at him, making the younger jump and let out a soft, embarrassed noise.

“Ewh! WHY?” His cheeks were flushed red and it was kind of cute how his grown-out hair looked a little messy with the glasses slipped down on his nose.

“Because we need new washing powder thanks to a certain somebody never bothering to get any after using the last of it for his laundry,” Yunho called out, a small grin on his lips as he threw the last piece of clothing in a basket.

Mingi didn’t seem too convinced, almost like he was trying to figure out just what his best friend was up to, but he gave in with a deep sigh, shoulders hanging down a little. “All right, I shall go and melt out there. If I do not come back, you know why.”

You couldn’t hide the soft laugh as you watched the two of them banter like that: “I will wait outside then, take your time. See you later, Yuyu.”

It was a nickname you had given him when the two of you dated but it had become such a habit, you just kept using it even after the breakup several months ago but he didn't mind it. Mingi seemed a little lost when he pulled on his sneakers and grabbed a jacket, only to remember it was hot outside and he wouldn’t need it.

When he joined you, he was trying to fix his hair but gave up on it the moment a small blow of wind faked some refreshment. “Can’t believe that guy kicked me out just for some washing powder,” he mumbled.

“You know him, he just likes to be prepared for everything,” you gave him a playful shove. After that, the two of you walked in silence for a little while.

With Mingi, that was never a bad thing as you learned quickly how he either was lost in his own thoughts, sometimes daydreaming, or there were days when he couldn’t stop talking, where his thoughts seemed to be as busy as those of an artist and his urge to share was sweet. You liked to listen to his thoughts, although you did not always manage to follow all of them. Regarding your career paths, you picked something more practical and straightforward like Yunho.

“Hey, Y/N,” he only quickly glanced at you before pretending that something on the way had caught his attention.

“Hm?” you looked over at him, head tilted in curiosity, paying attention to how his hand was gently rubbing the back of his neck, words suddenly not coming easily anymore.

“Did you ever regret breaking up with Yunho?” the question was rushed now like he was scared he wouldn’t ask it otherwise, but it certainly wasn’t one you’d have expected.

Back then, Yunho had a long conversation with Mingi, he told you that. The younger was surprised but also worried: the older was his best friend and naturally, he should be supportive of him, but there was also you now, somebody important to him. He was scared to lose that bond and the fun time you shared. Yunho had explained everything, promised you’d be fine, and you had done the same. Still, there were times when it seemed Mingi was worried, or at least, you picked it up as such.

You shook your head slowly: “No. I think it was for the best, you know? I really liked having Yunho as my boyfriend but now, looking at how things went after we broke up, I think we were both right because it barely feels any different. That shows me we have been perfect friends for one another more than lovers.”

Mingi seemed to consider your answer before speaking again: “So it would be fine with you if Yu starts to date again?”

The number of questions was a little unusual but you knew how much Mingi struggled now that the final year was approaching. The idea of things changing was always hard for him once he was comfortable with a situation. Something like that was what Yunho warned you about right at the beginning, that you should tell him if you’d get overwhelmed by Mingi seeking comfort at times. You never were.

“Well, of course not. We are friends and I want him to be happy. Sure, I worry a little about how the next partner feels. I know we are more the exception, it is rare for exes to be able to be such good friends and even for those who are, their partners can have that level of distrust.”

It had come to your mind but you decided not to worry about something you’d not have any control over. You stretched your arms comfortably up in the air: “It’s Yuyu, I am sure he will find somebody that’s like him and you don’t have to worry about it.”

Mingi nodded and it seemed, while there was a hint of uncertainty on his handsome features, he could live with the answer.

When the store Mingi was aiming for slowly appeared, it seemed as if something changed and he was walking a little behind you. By now, you were checking your phone for the earliest bus in the morning since you promised to visit another friend nearby.

“So… I am not that bad looking, am I?”

Mingi’s question took you by surprise once more, but this time, you found yourself blinking, a hint of red accompanying it as you turned around and he was looking at you.

Song Mingi was too often overlooked because in lectures, he liked to dress comfortably with oversized shirts and comfy jeans, his hair often a mess unlike all the times the three of you went out to bars or clubs. Then, gazes turned around for the tall and handsome student with his plump lips and the way the tight tank tops complimented his body, and his hair styled back let you see his face properly.

Mingi always said he didn’t have one-night stands or dates because he needed somebody who loved both. In fact, it had been a drunk confession on a weekend when Yunho visited his family it had just been the two of you, a joke of yours that he should get laid going wrong.

“Of course not,” you leaned forward, giving him a proper look up and down, thinking it surely was okay with the two of you being friends.

“You are hot, you have so many unique features: your lips, those little moles, and the way your eyes sparkle when you get excited.”

Mingi’s face openly brightened up and he was about to say something when a loud noise interrupted the two of you.

“Y/NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN,” Wooyoung screamed, an arm curled around San’s thin waist when the two stopped on their motorbike. The two of you often ended up working on projects together as for some reason, you shared almost half of your lectures with Wooyoung.

“What’s up, Jung?”

You joked and he pulled the helmet up, grinning.

“We are throwing a party tonight, wanna come? You can bring your two boyfriends.” Wooyoung teased, resulting in you rolling your eyes, he loved to pull the joke.

“Funny for you to say when everyone assumes you and your best friends are a little more on the benefit side.”

San gave his best friend a shove who struggled not to fall off and rolled his eyes dramatically: “You two really do not have any humor. Anyway, sincere invitation. Lots of people will come so if you change your mind, just text me.” He held onto San again and they disappeared down the road.

“Weirdo,” you laughed and looked back at Mingi. He was staring at you before awkwardly rubbing a hand over his neck: “Ah, I should get that stuff for the washing machine. I’ll see you later for the movies.”

You smiled, not thinking too much about it: “I will hurry to get ready, see you soon!”

Mingi nodded, more to himself than to you, and you could see him stumble, almost falling over one of the outdoor baskets as he cursed and disappeared inside. He always had been a little clumsy but recently it started to pile up a bit. It was kind of cute.

“I bought four packages. If that isn’t enough for at least three months…” Mingi blurted out as he unlocked the door and stepped inside, but stopped when he saw Yunho all dressed up and ready to leave. He dropped the bag with the boxes and blinked, pointing over his shoulder.

“Why do you look like that?”

His best friend looked up, smiling. “Ah! My brother just gave me a call, asking if I could come over and help him with some stuff. We haven’t really seen each other in weeks, and with summer just starting, I figured it would be okay.”

“But Y/N is coming over for the TV series soon, and I was excited for us to do it together.” Disappointment was written all over Mingi’s face now, but his best friend managed to hide how that expression always made feel him a little guilty.

“I promise, we will do it next time. We still have all summer and an entire year to meet up like that all the time. I already ordered the food and it’s paid for. You always still have an empty stomach by the time we are done, so just eat my portion too and make sure to brush your teeth properly afterward.”

The younger made a face. “Hey, I’m not an elementary kid anymore!” Yunho was always there, looking out for him, and there were times when Mingi was scared of what it would be like once he was supposed to be a proper adult, all on his own, living in an apartment without him. Not that he could admit it — he was in his early 20s and everyone suddenly wanted him to act on it, have it all figured out, and be proper.

Yunho stopped and stood in front of his best friend. They were almost equal in height, but the light-haired one eventually outgrew Mingi by an inch or two.

“I will always worry about you because you think too much and care too little about yourself,” Yunho smiled fondly at him, ruffling through his best friend’s hair, which elicited another displeased noise from Mingi, who was confused about what was going on.

“Do you still have the plushie? The one Hongjoong made for his school project when we were in our first year?” Yunho suddenly asked.

Mingi blinked before turning around and walking over to his small part of the wardrobe. He went down on his knees, pulling down one of the storage boxes until he found the yellow duck. Honestly, he had asked for a chicken when Hongjoong said he had to sew animals and would gift them each after receiving a grade. When Mingi had seen the duck for the first time, he pouted, and since then, Yunho wouldn’t stop teasing him about how they looked alike, so he ended up hiding it.

“This one?” he lifted it up, showing it to Yunho, and his best friend nodded.

“Mhm, you should gift it to Y/N. It would fit perfectly with the rest of the plushie collection.”

That was right — you collected plushies. It was cute because it wasn’t something Mingi expected when he first met you riding on a skateboard while reading a thriller novel the day Yunho introduced you to each other.

“Why would Y/N want a plushie that looks like me?” Mingi asked. Yunho pulled his bag over and was already at the door, smiling back over his shoulder at the younger.

“Because Y/N thinks you are cute, that’s why,” he winked. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Enjoy your evening together.”

Mingi blinked in confusion, still standing there before looking at the duck plushie in his hand, frowning.

“Y/N does?”

“Yuyu just left to visit his brother?” you frowned, a little surprised by the news when you arrived. It seemed unlike Yunho to just vanish like that; he never failed to inform everyone about it when he was to leave for some time, especially if you intended to meet up. Then, when it came to his brother and family, he was always super caring, something that everyone liked and respected about him.

You kicked off your sneakers and walked to the small kitchen corner. The shower had been welcoming, and you changed into a pair of jeans and a shirt, leaving your more comfortable clothes for sleeping in your bag. It wasn’t the first time you stayed over ‘just as a friend’; the couch was just as comfortable as any bed to you.

“Mhm, he was in a rush when I came back,” Mingi sighed. “He said we have all summer, so we will do it next time. I… should have called you. Sorry, then you could have rescheduled.”

You looked over to him, and your gazes met. His face started to heat up, and he tried to distract himself by fixing his glasses once more, leading you to smile.

“Nonsense, we can do this too. I do not mind, and I told you, there is not much else I have planned for the night. We can be evil and punish Yunho by spoiling the entire season for him, speaking about all the details once he’s back,” you joked to cheer him up a little and were pleased to see that he was grinning.

“I like the sound of that!”

You nodded and turned around, taking out plates to place the takeaway food inside, preferring to have it look a little prettier than eating out of the white containers. Meanwhile, Mingi started to add more pillows on his bed, along with blankets, and he turned off the bigger lights, replacing them with soft fairy lights. He had the bigger of the two beds, and with that, you were all used to sitting inside to watch on the TV hanging on the opposite wall.

When you turned around, you couldn’t deny he was obviously putting extra effort in today. Next to the extra blankets, he also added some flowers in a vase, and there was a chicken plushie that looked an awful lot like Mingi.

“I… since you ditched that cool party with Wooyoung and San… I thought it could be nice, pretending like we did something extra cool as well,” he muttered, biting down on his lower lip as if he was waiting for you to laugh at him.

Oh, Mingi, when would he finally start to see just how charming and amazing he was?

“Who would want to go to a boring party where everyone just gets drunk when you can have an amazing home cinema with good food and cute company?” you winked and walked over.

Without Yunho, it was your turn to try and cheer Mingi up, so you carefully sat down on the left side of the plushie.

“Now, you did not introduce me to your friend yet. Ah, if I’d have known, I’d have put a little more effort into my appearance.”

Mingi carefully took one of the plates and joined you, looking at it and then back at you.

“Uhm, a name? This is… Bbyongming. Hongjoong gifted him to me; he made him for some project back when we were juniors. He’s a…”

“Cute chicken. I love chickens!”

Now he pointed at the plushie again. “You did notice it was a chicken?! I always told everyone, but they say it looks like a duck.”

Mingi had to force himself to sit down; he almost spilled some of the food over the edge of his plate, but he looked at you, who was eagerly nodding.

“Tsk, I have no idea why anyone would think this is a duck. It is obviously a chicken and very cute. Looks a little bit like you.” You laughed softly and shoved some of the noodles inside your mouth just because you were embarrassed for having said just that.

For some reason, though, Mingi’s smile grew, and he was finally relaxing.

“I think so too!”

The both of you took care not to lean on the small chicken when you started with the series while eating the takeaway. You made a quiet note to thank Yunho for the meal later, even though he wasn’t here to share it with you.

To your surprise, the show was much better than expected, and while the first episode was quite a slow burn, you soon found yourself enjoying the plot and were invested in it, and so was Mingi. Everyone else likely would just glare at you for being so excited about it. There were hisses when something annoying happened and little gasps when the story took unexpected turns. A shiver over the scarier moments.

Yuyu sometimes joked how you reminded him of Mingi at times, during the very first dates you two went on, and there certainly were days when you couldn’t deny it.

As the hours went by, the two of you ended up moving closer together. Maybe it was Mingi being used to sitting between his two closest friends, who both wouldn’t mind it at all, or maybe you leaned in without thinking about it. The little chicken was sitting on your lap at this point; you played with its big head, squishing it to deal with your excitement about the plot.

It wasn’t until the screen darkened a little and asked if you were still watching that the two of you realized how many hours must have passed and how close you were sitting to each other now.

Mingi had taken off his glasses, his dark eyes looking curiously at you while there was still a soft blush on his cheeks now that he was so close. There were little details you never paid attention to before, and your heart was doing one or two awkward jumps in your chest as his arm tightened a little around your shoulder.

It was careful, scared you might withdraw any moment, but you just found yourself staring up at him, losing the hold around the plushie just a little. Slowly, Mingi was leaning closer to you so that his breath tickled your skin and his long lashes were about to close when suddenly, somebody was pushing the doorbell, and the two of you jumped up like the main characters in a horror movie.

“What the fuck?!” Mingi hissed and cleared his throat. You were rubbing your neck, unable to hide how your face was a little flushed, and there was an anticipation for something you didn’t see coming.

“I wonder who it is?” you mumbled, just to say anything, and Mingi was quick to put on his glasses and turned on some lights. The doorbell rang again.

“Should I get the baseball bat?” he asked, looking at you. At first, you weren’t sure if he was serious, but then, considering how you just watched a show where in one episode, they got robbed during something similar, you couldn’t entirely blame him.

“How about I get the bat, and you answer the door?” you suggested. At this point, you couldn’t entirely hide your smile; you knew how silly and dumb this was, but somehow, it was something you enjoyed. With Mingi, there was always room for something unexpected.

You walked over and carefully opened Yunho’s wardrobe. By the time the bell rang once more, you found his baseball bat. Your ex was quite a passionate baseball player, who gave up playing only after high school graduation due to a minor injury, but he didn’t want to risk it.

“Ready if you are!” You positioned yourself behind the door, exhaling as Mingi finally opened it to see who was ringing constantly that late. The building their apartment was in had seen its best years long ago, the lights dim and the environment not too inviting to be outside at a late hour, even during the summer months when most other streets were buzzing, but convenience stores had the downside of also attracting all kinds of figures to buy snacks or alcohol at a late hour.

Jongho rushed inside. “What took you so long? I was standing there for almost ten minutes.”

The man stopped, looking from Mingi, who was dealing with the realization he just let somebody get in so easily, to you, behind the door with a baseball bat up in the air. The youngest student was frowning, judging you quite obviously as he pointed an index finger from Mingi to you.

“I am not sure if this small apartment is cut out to play indoor baseball.”

You blushed, trying to look all cool and casual, relaxing on the bed. “Oh yeah, I mean. We thought you were Yunho who came back from his brother and wanted to just give him a small jumpscare,” you lied.

“You three are a weird trio, you know? But I guess that means Yunho isn’t here then? Dammit, I need the keys to the club room. It can’t be helped… I’ll be going then. Sorry for the interruption,” Jongho glanced over the bed and the fairy lights.

“Very sorry… didn’t know I’d run into a date. Anyway, see you around.”

There was no room to say anything; he already rushed out, and gone he was. Mingi and you were blinking at each other as he forced himself to finally move, locking the door and clearing his throat: “That was something…”

It was too late; now that somebody said the word, you couldn’t unsee it. How soft everything was, the way Mingi was acting around you recently, and Yunho’s odd behavior, just leaving the two of you like that.

As you stood there in silence, he was likely slowly starting to overthink because he carefully took the baseball bat from you and then started to wave with his hands.

“Ah… look, you don’t have to listen to… I mean, it is… we can just be friends.”

The last word was whispered, and you could hear the defeat in Mingi’s voice.

“I will start cleaning up…”

Finally, your legs moved, and you hugged him from behind. “No, leave it like that! I like it,” you whispered, and you felt him tense but very slowly turning his head around to look at you.

Idiot, how could he think that you’d not maybe consider liking him that way? How could you not? He wasn’t just handsome, a little strange, and entirely endearing, but somebody you trusted and always felt comfortable with.

Your heart was beating loudly, also with the question of why you thought this would be different from Yunho, how you could be certain you just had the bad habit of liking your friends a little too much?

Maybe it was because you really just were too alike, so it took you forever to notice the small differences.

“Do you maybe want to sit down again?” Mingi finally mumbled, and you nodded. He took your hand and turned off the lights as you went back to his bed. He was sitting down and, for a moment, hesitated.

“We could… do you maybe want to relax a little?”

Another nod followed, and the two of you stood there like awkward high schoolers who came along to prom when you finally crawled back on the bed and carefully relaxed against his shoulder. His long arms instantly curled around your body and kept you warm as he turned the show back on, but this time, you were far too distracted to really pay attention.

Mingi was feeling the same because he was looking down at you here and then until you noticed that at this point, you literally just were staring at him. You liked how he blushed, how it was so easy to read what he was thinking and feeling in a moment like that.

“You are pretty,” he whispered but forced himself for his eyes to remain on you, leading you to smile. “So are you, well, handsome.” There were just too many words in this year and age, but any would be fine with you, and there were even more you could think of that suited him.

“Would it be okay if I kiss you?” he finally asked, swallowing hard.

You nodded softly, and his big hands carefully rested against your cheeks. You turned around slowly so he could reach you better and pushed yourself up just a little.

This was by far not your first kiss, but every first kiss with a new person always felt like one. Mingi seemed shy as he breathed carefully against you and slowly tilted his head to lean in.

His plump lips were just as soft as you imagined, and one of your arms curled around his neck as you allowed your eyes to close.

The kiss was far from perfect: curiosity and tension mixed up, but it was just the way it should be. You were a little more eager than Mingi, encouraging him to deepen it more, and for a second, his hand clung a little to your hair.

Eventually, your lips broke apart, and he exhaled, grinning: “I think I finally understand why you all like kissing so much.”

Your face turned into a surprised expression: “Wait… this was your first kiss?”

Mingi smiled a little sheepishly: “I guess… always wanted it to be special, but I feel like I told you that before, Y/N.”

Now you were the one more nervous than confident, but Mingi laughed and hugged you gently. For a while, you sat there just like this.

It seemed a little strange that just maybe, you needed up until now to realize that you might have developed a crush on one of your closest friends and the very best of your ex, but like always, Yunho had known best.

Idiot. He really was a league of his own.

Mingi yawned a little: “Mh. I promise next time… I’ll ask you out properly. Like, you will know what it is… if you want that.”

You chuckled: “I admit, thinking of it now, surprise dates aren’t so bad, but yes, I’d like that. You look tired. We should get some sleep.”

You knew you should change and freshen up a little, but you were comfortable like that and didn’t want to leave.

“Do you want to cuddle, maybe?” Mingi asked again, and you winked: “You figured me out!”

He chuckled again and started to remove all objects from the bed so the two of you could get in together but stopped as he lifted up the plushie.

“Uhm… for you. Your personal Mingi… just make sure you do not like him better than me,” he pouted a little but then laughed, offering him shyly to you.

Your hands gently reached out before holding him up, close to Mingi’s face. “Twins, absolutely.”

You hugged him tightly: “I will treasure him, thank you.”

The taller nodded and slipped inside the bed first before you carefully followed, and his arms curled around you, pressing a small kiss on your hair. In return, you pulled his glasses off his nose and put them aside.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he whispered. You exhaled and dared to snuggle a little closer against him. “Good night, Mingi.”

In theory, all was perfect, if not for the two of you being cowards watching scary shows without a mindful Yunho to remind you it wasn’t real.

“Should we maybe turn on the TV?” Mingi asked into the darkness, and you nodded.

“Anime?”

“Gotcha!” He leaned over, turning the TV on, and you curled up against him, snuggled up like that, watching a random show until the two of you fell asleep.

Looking back, university life and student years, they really had been wild, but there wasn’t even a moment you’d regret.

A few years later…

“How’s Y/N doing?” Yunho asked as he scanned through the wardrobe.

“Same as always, went skating with some other friends, but we will meet soon. We’re looking at an apartment today,” Mingi grinned as he finally settled on a white shirt. It was a little too big, but people kept saying he looked good in it, something about being "boyfriend-coded."

“Sounds like you two are finally making that last step. If anything, I’m a bit surprised it took you so long to move in together. I mean, no offense, but you’ve literally been living together since graduation, just staying at each other's place frequently.”

Mingi chuckled into the phone: “I’d ask how you know if you didn’t live across the hall from me. Though, it’s rare to see you these days with your insane workload. Don’t forget to take a break now and then.”

Yunho was nervous; it had been a while since he had felt that way. Somehow, everyone thought he was super confident with dating, but he wouldn’t say it came easy to him.

“Enough about us, though. You met your date at that midnight bus? It sounds dangerous to take a bus after 11:00 PM all alone.”

Yunho blushed, thinking about it: “Something like that. We waited for that bus together for quite some time, a few weeks, but I was too nervous. I was even googling how to approach a stranger on a bus the night we finally talked. Anyway, we meet in an hour, and I need to look my best…”

His best friend laughed: “Remember that plushie Hongjoong made of you first year of university?”

Yunho rolled his eyes, grinning: “Are you telling me now I should gift it to my date?”

Mingi hummed: “Well, it worked for me; it’s worth a try. Not that I am worried, if somebody manages to make you THAT nervous, I’m sure this person is pretty cool. Make sure to introduce us, yeah? OK, gotta go, see you later.”

Yunho ended the call. He changed into the outfit, moving left to right before exhaling deeply, placing his right hand cutely against his cheek, and looking in the mirror. Gringe.

Then he sighed, shaking his head: “Please, this is not how you do it…”

He grabbed his bag and headed to the door, but then he made a few steps back. The plushie was sitting on the small armchair in his bedroom. Yunho stared at it before he opened a shelf and pulled out some gift bag.

He carefully placed it inside before finally leaving to go to this very important date. He couldn’t wait to meet this special person again.

#mingi x reader #mingi x you #mingi fic #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez oneshot #ateez au #ateez writing #mingi oneshot #mingi fluff #ateez fluff #mingi x y/n #mg tag #reis writes

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mingis-orangejuice · 4 months ago

Text

Asking the L&Ds boys "What are we?" Part 3: Rafayel

Summary: MC and her boy have been in a sort of situation-ship but MC wants to know why they haven't officially called her their girlfriend

a/n: This ended up being much longer than I thought so I'm making it into 4 parts (one for each boy) Here's Rafayel's part. I'm still writing Sylus' part, so it might take a little longer to come out

Genres/Warnings: angst, fluff, kinda slow burn, a little suggestive

Word count: 1114

Other parts: 1, 2, 4

Under the dazzling lights of an enormous banquet hall, you stand alone awkwardly looking at your phone. It was another one of Rafayel’s art shows. While you love to support him and his art, after going to about 4 different events in one week it gets old. Thomas was really running Rafayel rampant these past few weeks to get him to sell as much as possible before he goes off on one of his random solo trips. And even tho Rafayel hates these types of events he knew it would be good for his image and his wallet (not that he needs it)

Why did Rafayel have to leave you by yourself? You hated going to big fancy events the only plus side of coming to these was getting to spend time with your boyfriend… wait was he your boyfriend? You guys never actually had that conversation but he gets pretty boyfriend-y when you guys are alone he calls you every night before bed to tell you goodnight, takes you on expensive overnight trips and gets all pouty if you don’t stay the night, but he also still calls you Miss bodyguard but sometimes calls you his muse. What does that even mean? Was he just playing with you or was there something more?

You were thinking so hard about this that your facial expression looked pretty intense. You didn't even notice that most people at the event were actively avoiding you since you looked like you were ready to explode.

“Hey babe,” a voice from behind you snapped you out of your deep thought. Your expression changed to one of confusion and disgust at the random man who felt that it was ok to call you babe “Are you here alone? I can show you around. I know everything about these art pieces.”

You looked at him, now with a blank expression “Really?” you questioned sarcasm heavily coating your voice. Where is Rafayel? Why is he taking so long to come back? Thomas said he’d only be gone for a few minutes, but it's been over half an hour and now some creep is trying to talk to you.

“Yeah, I'm close personal friends with the artist, I’m actually his inspiration for most of his work, I’m basically an artist too he should be giving me half the profits from these since I’m such an integral part of his work, but I let him keep all of it since we’re such good friends” He steps closer to you as he spouts his nonsense. You, looking rightfully annoyed with him step back but this guy doesn’t get the hint and keeps stepping closer “What d’ you say, babe? Wanna spend the rest of the night with a real artist? He continues to advance towards you while you step back even further, in your mission to get away from this creep you didn't notice one of the wires running along the floor that connected to one of the lights illuminating an art piece. You tripped backwards. Luckily a firm pair of arms was there to catch you before you hit the floor.

You look up to see who your saviour is. And to your surprise, it was none other than Rafayel. “For a bodyguard, you’re very clumsy” he chucked while steadying you.

“It’s not my fault,” you say preparing to defend yourself.

“I know, it was his” Rafayel points to the creep that had been pursuing you. “What do you think you’re doing pestering MY muse? She clearly doesn't like you can’t you take a hint or is that head of yours just full of fish tank pebbles”

“Just who do you think you are, if you hadn’t come in and ruined everything she woulda gone home with me” The creep angrily stepped towards you and Rafayel. He looks towards you trying to grab your wrist “Babe tell this guy to fuck off so we can get back to our conversation alright.”

Rafayel quickly swats his hand away “Why would she go home with a loser who pretends to be an artist just to get in her pants, when she can have this real artist who gets to be in her pants every night?” Rafayel says with a shit-eating grin.

“Raf!” You lightly slap his chest a little amused and a bit embarrassed that he would say something like that out loud.

“Yeah, whatever she’s ugly anyway” The creep tries to leave, but Rafayel signals to some of the staff to grab that guy and remove him from the event. As the staff are holding the creep by the arms Rafayel brings his face close to his. “You’re lucky I’m only having them throw you out of the venue for talking about my muse like that.”

Later once the event was over, you and Rafayel were sitting in his living room, he was sketching some new ideas for paintings, and you were absent mindlessly playing on your phone, the questions from earlier still buzzing through your head. While lost in thought Rafayel lays his head on your shoulder. This makes your heart skip a beat and breaks you out of your trance.

“What are we ?” you suddenly ask slightly turning your head to where Rafalye was leaning.

“What?” he lifts his head off your shoulder to look at you confused.

You took a deep breath before starting, scared of confrontation, but you just had to know “When we were at your art show you kept calling me your muse, and apart from that you also act like my boyfriend most days, but you’ve never said that you were and you’ve also never called me your girlfriend. So I’ll ask again, what are we?”

“What, I thought it was obvious?” he said with a little smile. He takes both your hands into his and looks into your eyes

“Well, it's not obvious to me, so?” you wanted to look away from his gaze but you were afraid if you did you wouldn’t have the courage to look back at him again.

“You’re my muse,” he said excitedly, smile growing even bigger.

“I knew it, that's all I am to you just some inspiration for your art ” You sigh and get up to leave but he holds tighter to your hands

Is that what you think a muse is ?” He laughed softly. “To me a muse not only inspires my art but is my art, everything I do is for my muse. My muse consumes my every waking thought, I need her to be around me at all times to even function properly. You’re more than just a girlfriend to me, you’re my most precious muse.”

#love and deepspace #Rafayel #love and deepspace Rafayel #lnds rafayel #lnds #rafayel x mc #loveanddeepspace #l&ds #headcanons #love and deepspace headcanons #love and deepspace fic #love and deep space fan fic #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace angst #writing #creative writing #otome game

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gigglesandfreckles-hp · 6 months ago

Note

OH can you please do "What do you need?" "A hug." for jily <333

from this prompt list

She’s been going for 20 minutes.

“It’s fucking ridiculous!”

James nods dutifully from his place on the couch. “Absolutely.”

“And it’s not as if Slughorn has the bollocks to actually say anything. Not beyond his usual rubbish anyway which is the whole reason Mulciber has the audacity to spout his blood supremacy nonsense at the bloody dinner table.”

“I hate that guy.”

Lily wheels around from where she’s been pacing by the fireplace. “Right? And I swear, James, he was pissed when he got to the dinner and Sluggy’s mead just made it worse. I was just sitting there, having to listen to him, as he…as he stares at me, over pudding. Because he doesn’t care that everyone knows exactly who he’s talking about. He makes my skin crawl, James.”

James takes a steadying breath and forces himself to continue to track Lily as she paces about the room, his face neutral and attentive. She’s made it clear enough times before that she won’t allow herself to go on these rants around him if she has to worry that he’ll just take them as permission to go hex the Slytherins. It’s a test of his self-control every time.

“I just wish that someone else would say something. For once! That it wouldn’t be me against the entire—”

James scoffs, his practised patience wearing thin. “I’ve told you—”

“You hate the Slug Club, James,” she interrupts with a sigh. “Don’t you remember the last time?”

Does he ever. Things had spiralled out of control at dinner, and the tension had spilled over into the corridors right after the party. Fortunately, Lily had the presence of mind to fetch Slughorn before anyone ended up needing a trip to the hospital wing. The Potions professor had quickly sent James and the Slytherins to their respective dorms, deducting only a few points from each house.

Of course, James and his friends had settled the score later that week, far from Slughorn’s watchful eye—but Lily didn’t need to know everything.

“And besides,” she continues, “I already know how you feel and it…it means everything to me, to have you on my side. But Jesus, James, you’d think at least one of the posh twats Sluggy invites week after week could at least have some sympathy.”

“Speaking on behalf of the posh twats of the world,” James begins, clearing his throat.

Lily cracks a smile, the first real win of the evening for James. “Oh, stop that,” she says, shaking her head. “We’re far too good of friends for you to fool me with that anymore.”

Friends. Good friends. Great friends!

James gives her a practised smile as she settles beside him on the couch, turning sideways to face him, knees drawn up to her chin.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I really did mean for us to study. I—”

He shakes his head. “I’m happy to be a listening ear, Evans.”

She smiles softly, resting her chin on her knees as she watches him. The firelight dances across her face and hair, casting a warm glow that makes her look radiant. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Rot of boredom, probably,” he quips.

“You just…” She purses her lips. “You always know exactly what to do. What to say. It’s like…it’s like you’ve read the Lily Evans Manual.”

James forces himself not to drop his gaze, not to give up and openly confess how he’s studied her so closely for the past six and a half years that he could write a Lily Evans Manual.

“You make me sound way cooler than I am,” he says, leaning on one crooked arm against the back of the couch. “Do go on.”

She laughs, the sound muffled as she buries her face behind her knees, eyes squeezed shut. James's gaze lingers on her, absorbing every detail, as he commits the sight and sound of her to memory.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with them,” he says quietly, resisting the urge to reach across and lift her chin to meet his eyes. “It’s not fair.”

“No,” she sighs, “it’s not.”

“What do you need?” he asks. “I know hexing Mulciber is regrettably off the table for me,” (she laughs again) “but we could go get some ice cream from the kitchens or if you’d rather go ahead and start studying—”

“A hug,” she interrupts him.

His eyes widen. “From…me?”

“I mean,” she hesitates, her voice softening with uncertainty, “not if…not if it’s an inconvenience. I don’t—”

Before she can finish—before she can change her mind—he swiftly crosses the space between them on the couch and wraps his arms around her. Her knees collapse at once, falling off the couch between them, so she can press herself more fully against the solidness of his chest, her arms threading tight around his shoulders.

And they’re just friends. Good friends. Great friends! But he wouldn’t trade it for the world—not really.

#my fic #this was supposed to be short and sweet but alas #i am who i am #jily

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ohimsummer · 10 months ago

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sashisu general hcs.ᐟ

— minors dni bc there’s nsfw/suggestive mixed in with these, sashisu x fem! reader, random hcs, reader has a septum piercing, horny gojo (derogatory), mentions of drugs, this got way longer than expected bc i was going a little insane

⟡ prepare to have your space invaded at every turn. gojo is a serial offender, he has to be touching you every time you're around because how else will you know he's super totally infafuated with your being if he's not laying over you like a cat.

⟡ arm around your shoulder, hands on your waist, chin on your shoulder with a cheek against yours, hugging you from behind. in your bubble all the time but hates when you call him clingy

⟡ says your lap is the best pillow and he will pout if you don't let him nap there. just say yes, it'll be easier on everyone. sleepy satoru can get very grumpy.

⟡ anyway, geto also likes invading your space but of course in a more subtle way. letting an elbow or knee rest against yours. if he’s sitting next to you, he likes to rest a chin in the hand nearest you just so he can lean a bit closer

⟡ lowkey they’re jealous because shoko gets Girl Bestfriend Privileges so she doesn’t have to try as hard to disguise some interactions as something platonic. she can lay her head in your lap or give you a big, tight hug or play with your hair and you just see it as things girl bsfs do with eachother.

⟡ gojo is….obsessed with your piercing. you catch him staring at it sometimes with a slight hint of red on his cheeks. he feels the same way about your septum as he does about geto’s snake bites + gauges (horny)

⟡ eavesdropped on a conversation you had with geto about getting the same piercing or an industrial and the visualization of you with snake bites made him so flustered gojo had to leave the (next) room

⟡ you have a matching tattoo with geto, an inside joke between the two of you inked on both your ankles. you and shoko were joking about getting matching tattoos the week before and in those 7 days, he smooth talked you into getting one with him first

⟡ sharing your sweets with gojo is second nature. you’ve gotten so used to him holding out a hand for your snacks, that now you’re offering him half before he can even ask.

⟡ it warms his heart, how you just automatically hold half your pastry or candy bar out for him to take. the fact that you think of him every time, even if it’s mostly because he was so annoying about it initially.

⟡ his heart skips when you guys meet up and you hand him half a bag of candy. ‘here, satoru, i saved these for you.’ now he can’t focus, he’s thinking about taking your hand in marriage <3 starts bragging to shoko and geto that you love him more.

⟡ you could stay up with suguru all night. in your apartment, their apartment, or on a call. he’s so easy to talk to, an expert at lighthearted debate or keeping the conversation flowing.

⟡ he also just loves loves hearing you talk. reassures you that your rambling is fine, tells you to keep going, he’s listening the entire time and he also remembers everything you say.

⟡ so when you mumble ‘i’m thinking of adding some more decor to my apartment, maybe some cute succulents or a different theme in general’ one night while half asleep and then he shows up from a mission a couple days later with a tiny succulent cactus in his hand, do not be surprised.

⟡ trips with them are never easy to plan. and the places gojo recommends almost make your eyes bug out, it’d take you years to afford a vacation like that…utter nonsense in his eyes, he’ll gladly pay for you, now pack your bags!

⟡ they like coming over to your apartment to chill because (again) they love being in your space. shoko has a literal spare key to your apartment, gojo has his own spare key (it’s called a lock pick). geto will usually just come over when you’re home. he’ll resort to picking your lock before he asks shoko for the spare because she makes them both beg for it </3

⟡ so sometimes you come home and it’s any or all of them. whether or not you get a heads up is totally random. shoko or geto will ask if they can come over, or (if you’re expecting them) just text they’re on the way.

⟡ a heads up from satoru is basically nonexistent, you just come home and he’s in your living room. has your snacks in hand and is wearing one of he or suguru’s t-shirts they left behind. placates you by shoving snacks in your mouth and distracting you with the movie he’s playing (your fav) or a TikTok he wants to show you

⟡ it’ll be something cute that he knows you’ll latch on to immediately. a pair of cuddling kittens colored the same as your hair and he goes “look this reminded me of us” so now your face is warm and you’re cheesing goin “awwww!” he's so cute

⟡ it’s a running joke that you and shoko are married and she is your wife. she gets sooo smug towards geto and gojo when you playfully talk about the “marriage”, especially if one of them just said something rude to her.

⟡ “umm, satoru, don’t you dare talk to my wife like that!” and when he points out you two aren’t even actually married: “i’ll have you know we’ve been married for decades, and I refuse to let you treat the woman I love like that! Now shut up.”

⟡ shoko doesn’t usually like to share you with them if she doesn't have to but the thought of letting suguru be your “husband” and pissing off satoru was too funny to pass up. so geto very kindly asked for your other hand in marriage and now you have both a husband and a wife and gojo is the dog (according to them)

⟡ which he absolutely didn’t accept, and the next day he was demanding an annulment of your recent hitching. shoko was bad enough but suguru? you spilled the news and his jaw clenched immediately LOL

⟡ approaches you with a bouquet of flowers (that kept making you sneeze) the next day and a very pretty, very expensive ring. brags that he’d buy anything for his now wife and shushes you when you ask about the price (shoko told you later it was in the triple digits)

⟡ it’s a pretty, dainty little ring, has your initials on it, even. you wonder how he got it custom made in less than 24 hrs (the truth is gojo already had it hidden in his room and was too shy to give it to you). you wear it all the time because it’s genuinely beautiful and gojo smiles whenever he notices it on your finger.

⟡ it’s of course not a real wedding/engagement ring but…he thought about it. gojo definitely thought about it. anyways now you have two husbands and a wife but shoko is sure to remind them that she was your first love

⟡ on a related note, you do bully utahime about it. (“keep your hands off my wife, she doesn’t have time for a side piece/mistress”)

⟡ geto smokes on chill nights where you four are just hanging out, and you got high off his secondhand smoke once. it was an accident, but you actually liked how it felt, now he lets you smoke with him sometimes so you can build a tolerance.

⟡ another down bad satoru moment,,,watching geto take a hit and breathing out the smoke for you to inhale…geto totally out of it, head back, legs spread, and you giggling and cuddled up under his arm…god help him

⟡ gojo doesn’t really get high but he’ll sit on your other side and sometimes you sort of cling to him and zone out, his arm around your shoulders with your head lolled back on it. bricked the entire time, geto knows his red face isn’t because of the smoke

⟡ geto went to use the bathroom once so you turned your attention to gojo, legs over one of his and rubbing a hand over his chest as you were tucked under his arm. he almost imploded, shoko took a video and was smirking the entire time.

⟡ on walks, it’s you and shoko in front and the boys behind you, bickering or horsing around. you like to make a game out of taking obvious peeks at them and then whispering to shoko to get a reaction (gojo being very nosy and thinking you two are gossiping about them)

⟡ you probably borrow suguru’s clothes most just because he’s so lowkey about it. he’s the most observant of the three and if he sees you shivering or just wanting to cover up a little more, he’ll slide his jacket over to you. insists that you keep it, the only way he’ll get it back is if gojo takes it from you and replaces it with his own (definitely not out of jealousy)

⟡ they also steal borrow stuff of yours. gojo likes to wear your hats, his favorite is your pink beanie on cold days. you and shoko swap various clothes regularly ("is that my jacket? i've been wondering where it went for months.")

⟡ if a plush on your bed has went missing then suguru is the likely offender. takes one at a time, maybe two if he really likes it. he just likes to have a piece of you at their place.

⟡ he's waving goodbye on his way out the door and totally ignores you when you question why your stuffed bear is under his arm. laughs all the way down the hall when you call his name.

⟡ names it too. you're over at their apartment and spot said bear on the couch, ask about it, they've given it a random name. geto making jokes about it being your adopted son, laughs when you cover his mouth with a hand because you don't also need gojo stealing your plushies.

⟡ both boys like just throwing you over their shoulders like some kind of ragdoll. gojo will spin you around while you're squealing and laughing for him to stop. gets you both dizzy and then geto and shoko have to hold you both steady (or geto just lets him collapse on the ground)

⟡ sometimes you neglect your health and don't get enough sleep and in that case mother suguru will toss you over his shoulder and take you straight to bed. you're getting rest whether you like it or not.

⟡ gojo pinches you on the cheek before bed whenever one of you is falling asleep around eachother. geto too if he wants to get punched.

⟡ he asks you to do his dirty work for him and if you oblige then suguru scrunches his face and gives you the most unamused look and also bites you on the shoulder so...carry on at your own risk :3

⟡ if you pester either of them enough they'll wrap their arms around you in a bear hug (usually pinning your own arms to your side) and hover you in the air so the other can subject you to tickle torture. shoko's next if she tries to save you. rip, sawry <3

tagz: @anthoosies @hellkaiserinphoenix @staryukis :3c

#sashisu hcs #sashisu headcanons #jjk headcanons #jjk hcs #satoru x reader #suguru x reader #shoko x reader #geto x reader #satoru gojo headcanons #suguru geto headcanons #shoko ieiri headcanons #jujutsu kaisen headcanons

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 2 years ago

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Little drop of your love

requester: Can you possibly do a Azriel X reader where they are newly mated and the IC and them go out at Rita’s and someone hits on her?

a/n I had so much fun writing this it's almost illegal...

warning: mention of sexual themes, creeps in the club

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It has been a month. A whole month since you last saw your family. The mating frenzy has been so intense, since you and Azriel accepted the bond, that even Azriel has positioned all of his works. There was no way you two could be without one another for longer than five minutes. If it wasn't him between your legs, then it was you on your knees looking up at the spymaster or Azriel with your legs over his shoulders as he ate you out. Never before had you felt such a strong desire to be this close to him. Even with him buried deep inside you, you still felt like he wasn't close enough. It's like you wanted to crawl inside his skin. Somehow completely melt inside him and just becomes one body and soul.

In the beginning, you couldn't care less that it was just you. That's all you wanted, and you cursed Rhys out for interrupting you two. Even the thought of Azriel being anywhere but in your bed made you physically sick, as if you were going to die if he spent a moment elsewhere. But as the weeks passed and the initial craziness faded, you two spent more time laying in bed laughing and cuddling. That was when you realized how badly you two neglected your friends. You knew deep down that they would understand, and in the worst-case scenario, you two might just get teased. Maybe get a prize for being all up on each other for the longest time. Yet it still made your heart ache a little. You missed the girls. And boy, oh boy, how many stories you had to share with them. Not to mention that you missed messing around with Cassian. He had always been like a brother to you. Yeah, an evening just getting wasted with him and talking absolute nonsense was long overdue.

So when Feyre gently knocked on your mental shields, you had to hold yourself back from screaming from excitement. The rest of the family was planning a trip out for a night at Rita's. You two were invited, of course, and as Feyre said, that would allow everyone a chance to celebrate your mating bond since there was no time for that prior.

"Az, come on, I want to put on something nice and have fun with our friends." You, of course, agreed to the offer without informing Azriel about it, leaving him all grumpy in bed now. "You've been wearing my clothes, ain't that nice?" His hands were once again resting on your hips as he laid practically on top of you, nibbling at your neck from time to time.

"Yes, but I miss our family. Don't you?" He has always been a huge family man. There was not a single family dinner or gathering that he missed. You knew he loved them without a doubt, so this was still the mating bond speaking from within him. "You weren't complaining about that an hour ago", "Azriel", the male-only laughed, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as you squirmed beneath him.

But after long hours of trying to sway him your way and thanking him for agreeing afterward, you managed to convince him to finally go out. And in all honesty, who was he to deny your wishes? Azriel was ready to do anything for you if that would make you happy. You were his priority now. His mate. His equal. The other half that he had wanted to find for so long.

Azriel felt like a whole new man. Even Cassian had pointed out that his brother was smiling more. Well, at first the general had asked if he wasn't sick, earning a vulgar gesture from the shadow singer. But everyone could see just how happy and full of life Azriel had become once you stepped into his life. One by one, you broke through all of his walls and, with your gentle and slow love, showed him a whole new meaning of life.

Azriel was happily sitting by the fireplace, smiling to himself, thinking of all the memories you two had shared when he heard the sound of your high heels approaching. And all he could do was let out a low growl as you gave him a little swirl while biting your lip. "I think we won't make it out the door," Azriel said, taking hold of your hand and spinning you around one more time, admiring how the black material of the dress, accompanied by white pearls, fitted your body simply perfectly.

"We're matching," your hands had come up to rest on his chest, feeling the soft material of the black shirt he was wearing, "And it's honestly rude how you manage to look so sexy with just a shirt and a couple of undone buttons," smacking his chest playfully, you moved to pull away, pouting slightly. "You're the sexiest when you're naked, but this is outrageous," bringing you closer to him. Azriel placed a loving kiss on the crown of your head, "You look breathtaking, my love."

Smiling brightly, you wrapped your hands around his neck. Even with high heels on, you barely got to meet his lips without stepping on your tippy toes. Azriel leaned in, pressing his lips against yours, not caring about the red lipstick you were wearing. Within seconds, the kiss got more passionate, and Azriel's hands started scrunching up the material of your silk dress. "Az, you'll mess up the dress before we even get there," you grumbled, pulling away from him. Brushing your fingers against his lips so you could wipe away the red tint covering them. "Good, they know you had some action before you came there, and they'll stay away," you shook your head, rolling your eyes as you two walked out.

The club was stuffed when you got there. And with you being out for the first time in quite a while, the sea of bodies and the drumming of the music instantly made you want to step away as an overwhelming amount of stimulation flooded your senses. Azriel instantly draped his hand over your shoulders, bringing you closer to him. His other hand held yours as you two stepped forward. He could feel your emotions loud and clear. Sending some comforting strokes of love through the bond, feeling as your body instantly became less tense as his body pressed to yours.

It was a question in itself. But somehow, through all of the sounds, you heard the loudest shriek that Mor had let out once you two came into view, immediately running your way. Feyre and Nesta follow one step behind as they all embraced you. Once you were practically swallowed by the females, Azriel stepped aside and went to join his brothers, who both had the biggest smiles on their faces. "Look who finally graced us with their presence," Rhys chirped, handing Azriel a glass. "Reeking of sweet, sweet sex," Cassian added, earning a shove from Azriel in return as the two males laughed. "I'm surprised she's walking", "I'm not an animal, Rhys", the spymaster gave his high lord a look before turning his attention to you. You haven't yet crossed the distance towards the private nook. The girls still twirling you around as if you were the most unseen creature ever. Azriel would have asked them to stop and leave you alone, but the smile on your face as you all giggled among each other is what stopped him. His lips curve up as he watches you.

"Come on, we need it in millimeters", "And don't forget the details", "No, tell me if he's into some kinky stuff", they were all talking over one another, and you found yourself laughing so hard your cheeks started to sting. "Should I be concerned that all you bunch care about is my mate's cock?", you teased them in return, earning multiple eye rolls and growls.

"It's for research!", Mor whined from beside you. "Fine, he has the biggest wingspan for a reason. Never seen anything like that in my humble life," you said, Nesta fell back on the plush material of the sofas as the girls once again erupted into fits of laughter. "Does he treat you well, though?" Feyre took a hold of your hand, squeezing it softly. "He's perfect," you said, turning your attention to the boys and instantly catching Azriel's gaze. Even while he was still talking with his brother, his eyes didn't seem to leave you. "I feel like a princess. He's the best." Smiling at your high lady, you leaned into her embrace.

As the night went on, more and more drinks were poured, and saluted by everyone. You were sitting on Azriel's lap, his hand loosely wrapped around your lower body, as everyone watched Cassian peel his shirt off as he performed quite a lap dance for Nesta. It was hard to tell the difference between her wanting to kill her mate and just wanting to rip the rest of his clothes off.

"Someone needs to save his poor soul," Azriel laughed in your ear, kissing your exposed shoulder, "I'll go get us some drinks and grab him a water," Azriel was almost up when you pushed him back down on the seat. "I'm perfectly capable of doing that on my own", the spymaster shot you a warning look before you leaned in kissing him softly, biting his lip as you pulled away. Azriel cursed under his breath just as you walked off, smirking like a cat.

Most of the people in the club were wasted. It shouldn't have surprised you, given how late it was. But that also meant that the club was starting to get less stuffy. The crowd was still big, but at least it felt like there was a tiny bit more breathing space. You shouted your order to the bartender, who complimented you in return. Wishful fool, you thought to yourself as you smiled at him, grateful that he turned away to mix the different liquors without a second glance. You were still laughing to yourself, thinking how badly you were going to tease Cassian tomorrow, when you felt someone come to stand next to you. You would have ignored it, but the closeness of the stance made you frown as you turned to look its way.

The male was pretty tall, but nothing compared to Azriel. Light hair, bright blue eyes. Ah... Everything you hated the most in males. You stepped to the side, but he took that as an opportunity to catch a hold of your hand, making you turn his way. "What a pretty flower has landed on my way," you cocked your head to the side, "More like you landed yourself here," the male whistled back, a smirk on his face. "And she has an attitude. Do you carry that into the bedroom as well?" Your eyes went big as you gaped at him, "Excuse me?", "You heard me, you like to be a little brat?", his hands gripped your waist as he pulled you closer to him, your hands instantly came up to push against his chest so he wouldn't get too close. Turning your head to the side as you closed your eyes. But not even a moment later, the hands were ripped off of you, as you fell into someone's embrace. Looking up, you saw that it was Cassian, who now looked way soberer than he did a few minutes ago. Returning your gaze to the front, you noticed Azriel's back, wings already perked up as he towered above the male.

"Oh little lad, I would step aside if I were you," Rhys warned him, knowing that this could escalate rather quickly. "Maybe you should mind your business; I was getting some," Azriel stepped forward, lifting the blonde by his shirt. "I will send you flying into pieces if you say even a single word," the shadow singer grunted through his teeth. You tried to reach for him, but Cassian wrapped his arm around you, bringing you closer to his chest. You tried to protest, but you knew that it was mainly for keeping you safe in case Azriel completely lost his cool. Not only to protect you but also Azriel, knowing that he would never forgive himself if, in the heat of the moment, he hurt you by accident.

The shadows were swirling all around the place. The poor male's feet were dangling in the air as Azriel glared at him. And if looks could kill, the sorry fuck would be six feet under. "You ever decide to touch my mate ever again, and I'll make you eat your own hands, understood?" The male only nodded his head, squirming in the tight grip of the spymaster. "I asked you a question, shitass!" Azriel roared, making the glass bottles at the back bar shake ever so slightly. "Yes, I'm so sorry, please," the male pleaded, almost crying. Azriel threw him across the room without a second thought as he turned to you.

Cassian instantly let go of you, stepping aside, as well as raising his hands up. Yet Azriel didn't miss a chance to also growl at his brother. You took a hold of your mate's hand, dragging him into the back room for some privacy. Luckily, the place was empty as you closed the doors behind the two of you. Azriel was still breathing heavily. You knew, you could tell from the way he was clenching his fist that he was fighting against the urge to go back there and beat the daylight out of that male. You approached him, stepping in between his legs, your hands running through his perfectly made hair. Azriel let out a deep breath as he nuzzled his face into your stomach, hands gripping your sides as he breathed in your scent.

He needed to ground himself. To pull himself out of the blinding rage. He refused to be violent in front of you. Of course, you knew what Azriel did. You knew that very well, but that didn't mean that he wanted to welcome his dark side into day-to-day life. "I'm all okay. I'm here with you," you mumbled softly, thankful for the dimmed-out music that allowed you to keep your voice nice and soft. "He...", Azriel spoke, but his voice died down as he clenched his jaw tightly.

"He's a doomed creature with a death wish," you said as you gently nudged Azirel's head up to meet your gaze. "You could have been seriously hurt. He could have... ", "I'm here, you saved me, and I'm alright," you said, placing both of your hands on either side of his face as you bent forward, resting your forehead on his. "I promise that I'm fine, Azzy," yet his eyes still searched you as if he was trying to find a lie in your words. Shaking his head, he pressed himself closer to you once again. You ran your fingers up and down his neck, scratching him ever so slightly.

"We should have stayed at home," Azriel groaned, but you quickly cut in, "That's not true. We had a fun night, and we'll continue to do so," you said, pushing him back into the soft pillows as you moved to straddle his lap.

"What do you think you're up to, sweet girl?", he asked, but you only smirked as you pressed your finger to his lips and said, "Saying thank you to my knight in shining armor." The darkness in his eyes was replaced with a lustful look as he moved his hand under the skirt of your dress. Eyes going big as his fingers came in contact with your bare hips. A mischievous smirk paints your lips as you lean forward, leaving kisses on his exposed chest. "It's your lucky night, little bat. I came bearing gifts," the shadow singer only shook his head as he flipped you two over, "You're so going to pay for this, gorgeous."

#azriel x reader #rhys x reader #cassian x reader #azriel x you #acotar imagine #acotar x reader

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cherryxblossxms · 2 years ago

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Masturbation May - Day 3b: In the Shower (Satan)

A/N: Satan was suggested for day 3 by an anonymous sender! I couldn't quite decide the direction I wanted for this initially but finally just settled on some good ol stress relief via orgasm lol.

Featuring: GN reader || Satan x reader

Warnings: masturbation; some jealous Satan; mentions of marking and breeding (not specific to reader); just some much-needed self-assurance and stress relief in the shower~

Word count: 1411

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Satan just needed some kind of stress relief. He knew it was just his temper, easier and quicker to rile up thanks to his sin. But it seemed like everything was going wrong lately, getting on his nerves and pushing him to the edge of exploding. Lucifer was yelling at him about something or other, his favorite cat café had to close early because of an emergency with the owner, and his brothers were all getting into silly, nonsense arguments with each other.

Normally, these things alone wouldn't be enough to make him snap completely. But to top it all off, you had gone on a trip to the Human Realm with Solomon two weeks ago, supposedly for some training and gathering some items specific to your home. In your absence, the House of Lamentation always fell into chaos, no one to buffer the ridiculousness and provide a voice of reason.

Satan knew he shouldn't blame you, or use you as a means of resolving everyone's problems. But your presence was like a magic balm, easing his spirit and always managing to wrestle the others into compliance. And now all this pent up stress was leaving aches in his muscles and gave him a near constant migraine.

He couldn't even focus on his books, attempting to read through various tomes on his ever-lasting quest for the perfect curse for Lucifer, but realizing halfway through that he wasn't absorbing any of the information. He snapped the heavy book shut in anger, sending out a plume of dust that covered his upper half. Satan coughed and set the book aside.

Great, now he was both dirty and angry.

Trying to keep his boiling rage contained, he quickly gathered clean clothes and made his way to the bathroom, hoping against all odds that no one else was in there, or he'd really snap for good. Thankfully, the room was clear, and he quickly undressed as the water grew hot.

Once he was in the water, he sighed, the heat helping to relieve his aching muscles. Although he wouldn't admit it, he often wondered about taking up an offer from Asmo for a spa treatment. He was sure he needed it, and that it'd probably do wonders for his temperament, at least for a little while. Relaxation of the body is supposed to help relaxation of the mind, he figured.

Sadly, the relief didn't last long as his now unbusied thoughts kept going back to all the annoying things happening lately. He just wanted one day of peace, of not being nagged by Lucifer for sneaking in a stray cat, or not hearing the constant whine of Levi hounding Mammon for his money. And thinking of you, he hated being away from you for so long. It was unfair that you had left him, not to mention traveling with Solomon.

Although he was usually secure in his relationship with you, something still bothered him about you being alone with the Witty Sorcerer for so long. Not that Satan didn't trust you, he knew you would never cheat on him. But he wasn't always sure he trusted Solomon and his flirty, flowery words.

Just thinking of it made his skin itch, picturing Solomon trying to court you, to take you from him. Even though he knew he was completely blowing it out of proportion, the thoughts came unbidden to him. The next time he saw you, Satan resolved he'd have to leave his mark on you, to ensure no one, especially Solomon, could ever mistake who you belong to.

The more he thought of marking you, the faster his blood pumped, something ancient and instinctual waking up in his veins. He wanted to cover you in his scent, make sure all anyone else could smell for miles was him. He wanted to leave his fang marks in your skin, leave dark hickeys across your neck and chest, somewhere highly visible so no one could mistake his intentions.

Even better, he wanted to mark you with his seed, cover you outside but especially inside, as deep as he could manage, make sure it could never leave you. It didn't matter if you could get pregnant or not, the deep animalistic need still roared inside him to do it anyway. That final thought sent a throbbing pulse down to his dick, and Satan didn't even realize he was completely hard until his hand was already subconsciously wrapping around his cock and stroking.

He wanted you there, he needed to show you that he was all you ever needed. He was your mate, your lover, and everything you ever wanted, he would provide to you as long as you'd let him. He would show you, he could pleasure you a thousand times over with the way he knows your body, so that no one, especially Solomon, could ever compare.

Satan cursed. Now he was so hard it hurt, needing you in his arms, and on his cock, immediately. The rest of his body was relaxed but now all the ache sat in his groin, begging to be inside of you. You weren't due to be home for another week, and he knew there was no ignoring his erection at this point, so he settled for relieving himself for now, already formulating a plan of attack (of the pleasurable variety) for once you returned.

He shut the water off and quickly stepped out, thankful that you two kept a spare bottle of lube under the bathroom sink. He poured some on his hand as he re-entered the shower and continued stroking. He felt ridiculous, all pent up over his dumb worries and demonic needs, and wanted nothing more than to drown his worries in the pleasures of your body. Only you seemed to know how to truly relax him, but a fantasy would have to do.

He could just picture it, the moment you came back from your trip, how he'd pull you into his room and make sure you didn't go anywhere until you were thoroughly pleasured and marked by him. He wanted to taste your lips, feel your warm, bare skin against his, hear your affirmations that he was the only one for you. The next time you saw Solomon, Satan wanted it to be obvious that he knew your body inside and out and that Solomon wasn't nearly worthy enough to be your mate.

Now fueled by anger and his lust for you, his thoughts were really letting loose. He wanted you sprawled across his bed, legs tossed over his shoulders as he pounded into you, or maybe he'd have you ride him until you couldn't hold yourself up anymore. Maybe to reassure his worries, you'd take his cock down your throat, knowing how gorgeous you look when you struggle to fit him in your mouth.

He pumped his cock faster, using one hand to hold his base steady and add more pressure, chasing that sweet high. As water droplets dripped from his hair onto his body, Satan imagined pulling you into the shower with him, picking you up to fuck you against the wall, letting your moans and screams of his name echo in the bathroom to ensure everyone in the house knew exactly who was pleasuring you. He'd fuck you as long and as hard as you could stand it, making sure to reach the furthest depths within you, as long as you wanted him.

Satan was now panting as his climax approached, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He used the last of his sense to picture bringing you to climax, eager to cum deep inside you, release all his stress into you, and feel you clench around his cock and milk him dry. Just dreaming of achieving that pushed him into that pleasurable zone, and he groaned deep in his throat as he released the first ropes of cum, moving his hand up to work the head of his cock, drawing out every bit of pleasure and cum he could.

He came a surprising amount, likely from lack of release while you'd been gone, and he felt a little sad about the waste as it washed down the drain. But now that his mind was cleared, and his body was well and truly relaxed, he couldn't wait for your return. He was going to make sure everyone knew that you were his, and relieve all his stress with you the way only you could do.

#satan x reader #obey me satan #obey me shall we date #obey me smut #satan smut #spicy minx 🔥#the minx can write ✍️

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jj-5656 · 2 years ago

Text

First and Last With; James Potter

A/N: Hello again! I finally finished that wonderful request, so sorry it took forever. Football (NFL playoffs) and school preparations have kept me preoccupied. Winter break is over and I’m absolutely devastated. For anyone in college, I wish you luck for this Spring Semester. But with that being said, school starting back up means I likely won’t upload as much. So I apologize in advance. Regardless, I hope this makes up for the wait on this request. To the lovely anon and all others, enjoy!

Summary: The one where the Marauders vacation to the Potter’s beach house, and a revealing drinking game ensues...

TW: Descriptions of panic attacks, Sirius is an ass as usual, a lot of mutual pining.

“Marlene, you have packed half of your house and more, it’s just a week’s vacation.”

“Anything could happen, Sirius. Better to be over prepared than under prepared.”

“I’m just happy James is filthy rich.” Dorcas deadpans, straightening when you and Lilly shoot her a disapproving look. “And so, very generous at the same time.”

“I’m not filthy rich.” James laughs, taking your bags from your grasp and loading them into the trunk for you. Amongst all of your friends belongings, piled high enough to reach the top of the van you’ve rented for the adventure. “We’re just...Comfortable.”

“That’s what all rich people say.” You and Remus look to each other, stunned at your simultaneous blunt confessions.

“Shush, the lot of you.” Lilly chides, never sparing commonalities.

“Remind me why we couldn’t just use floo powder? I’m already sweating, and my complexion does not do well in heat.” Sirius fans himself dramatically. James allows you to lift yourself over the mountains of bags with his arm for support in order to reply.

“When have any of you experienced the adventure of a road trip?” You’re beaming at the thought, James takes your distraction as an opportunity to admire your unusually giddy attitude. Though the real reason you’re so eager to be away from home pulls at his mind, his grin faltering. He pokes your side, grabbing your attention.

“Miss sunshine gets shotgun, I’ve called it.”

“Prongs, I thought you’d have wanted me to be your passenger princess?”

“Absolutely not, though I’ll miss those luscious locks of yours. I’m driving, so I select my navigator.”

“You’ve been there a million times.” You note, crossing your arms incredulously. James smirks, placing his burgundy and gold quidditch cap atop your head.

“I’d much rather you keep me company.” He says so only you can hear, unknowing of your flushing when he turns back to Sirius. “Pads, Moons is gonna need a pretty view, it’s fortunate he’ll have you in the middle seat.”

“I’m reading! Reading this entire time, very busy.” Remus teases, pleased with the raven-haired boy’s mock offense.

You round the corner of the van after checking the trunk for the fourth time, positive you haven’t forgotten any supplies for the trip. James is at the passenger side, holding the door open for you. He’s got a pair of prescription sunglasses on, and looks very different. No less handsome, if anything, the shades accentuate the bravado you’ve always envied. His arms are especially toned after another quidditch season, tanned from the summer sun you’ve missed so dearly. You’re staring.

“Systems ready, co-pilot?” He beams down at you, pulling his cap over your eyes in teasing. You stick a tongue out at him, pulling his arms away so you can adjust it right again.

“I feel silly in this.”

“Nonsense, you look adorable. My clothes suit you.” He defends, so casual you don’t let the words resonate until after he’s shut your door and rounded to the drivers side.

“Enjoy the passenger seat, princess.” Sirius sneers, pouting despite not holding any true ill-will.

“Gladly.”

************

“Are we there yet?”

“No, Dorcas. Just like we weren’t there ten minutes ago.” James glances at the girl through the rearview, slightly amused with her childish complaints.

“You know, we could just pull over and-”

“No floo powder!” You and Lilly shout to Sirius, hoping not to have awoken a sleeping Marlene and Remus. Sirius covers their ears, both of them having dropped their heads on each one of his shoulders some time throughout their slumber. You finish fiddling with the radio when a good song comes on, taking a moment to look at the lot of your friends all corralled in the van.

“Where’s the camera, James?”

“On my side door here, I’ll pull over if you want it.”

“Oh, so you’ll pull over for her.”

“Shut it, Pads.”

“No need, I can reach it.” You lean over the seat, careful not to block his view of the road as you quickly grab it. James swallows, clears his throat to act natural whilst all of his insides begin to burn.

“Hot?” Is all you ask, studying his discomposure.

“What?” He starts, voice shaky and strained. Sirius falls into a fit of muffled laughter from the back, leaving you confused. “J-Just a little warm, yeah.” Potter recovers, now well aware you were inquiring about temperature. You turn up the AC, taking the cover off the lens and pointing the camera toward the back. Sirius smiles wide for the camera, handsome features lighted by the early afternoon sun. Marlene and Remus drool along on his shoulders as Lilly beams brightly from the back. Looking positively radiant, as always. Dorcas smiles, but holds up her favorite finger to the lens. You grin,full of adoration for the entire lot of them as you snap a couple photos, ensuring they’re all in the frame.

James admires in increments from the rearview, blowing a raspberry to the camera when you point it at him.

“Eyes on the road, Potter.” He shakes his head, running a hand over the steering wheel in a mindless habit as he hears the camera snap. Looking over quickly to smile at the lens. Effortlessly handsome, as usual.

“We have to take as many pictures as possible this week.” You demand, getting excited all over again for the much needed vacation, spent with all your best friends, no less.

You roll down your window even more, sticking your head to enjoy the warm, salty air. It smells of the beach, grass, all things green and beautiful. You’re so happy your head spins, giggling to yourself as you catch Lilly doing the same behind you. Meeting her eyes in the side mirror and scrunching your nose when she blows a kiss, an embellished hand pretending to capture it in the air and holding it to your heart.

James does a double take from his view of the road and then you. Trying to stay focused and not find any distraction in your adorably delighted mood. His brows furrow when you shuffle forward, aiming to get even more of your body out of window the feel the entirety of what this beautiful view has to offer.

“Absolutely not.” He chastises, a finger hooking onto your belt loop and tightening. His eyes are on the road, one hand on the wheel as he tugs you back inside.

“Lame!” You whine, hitting his arm in distaste.

“I prefer my friends with their pretty heads in tact, thank you.”

You settle in your seat, still full of delight but a little more contemplative as you think about what got you here.

“Summer vacation!” Sirius throws himself between you and Remus during lunch. Gathering an assortment of food on his own plate. You’ve barely eaten, stomach turning at the thought of being home for two months. You’re nudged from under the table, meeting James’ gaze, whose eyes avert to your abandoned plate. A subtle request for you to eat. You offer a weak smile, shrugging before your friends go on.

“Two whole months without exams.” Marlene adds, absolutely pleased with not having to spend another second with her nose in a book.

“We’ll be seventh years, I can hardly believe it.” You’ve considered Lilly’s words the entirety of this last month of classes, absolutely dreading going home. Hogwarts is more home than your house would ever be, and your friends are the only real family you have. You lose your breath at this, biting at the nail of your thumb and wincing when it draws blood.

“I’m gonna head to the library,” You announce, blinking hard to fight the room from blurring. “Forgot to turn in my potions textbook.” It’s believable enough for the group to nod along, chorusing their farewells as you head out of the great hall. Heart racing and hands trembling. James takes only a moment, eyes following you the entire time. It’s not his business, but he knows that demeanor. He’s seen all of this before, in the boy he calls his best friend. Sirius Black, who leans forward and shoots James a look. Instantly, the chaser is on his feet, mumbling a feeble excuse and heading out of the hall in search for you.

“I think he left the curling iron on.”

James searches the corridor wildly, all of the students being in the Great Hall makes the search easy, he can follow the sound of your fleeting footsteps with ease in this sea of silence. He follows your distant frame up a set of stairs, cursing to himself when they shift before he can follow your path. He’s searching for a new route, not wanting to shout to you and scare you even more.

There’s a lot of running, a couple instances of tripping over his own feet, but eventually Potter catches up to you.

You’re sat in a windowsill beneath an overhang of a hallway above, curled in on yourself. James approaches carefully, trying to control his panting breaths.

“Fuck, James!” You startle each other, studying the other instantly.

“You’re” the athlete coughs, winded, “so fast.” You smile, but it does little to calm you down, because as he gets closer, the view around him blurs, and everything sounds cloudy, distant.

“I’m,” you try to form words, too loud because you can’t hear yourself properly. “F-fine.” You try to move, try escaping to prevent embarrassing yourself further. Clutching your chest and swiping at the flood of tears that can’t be ceased.

“You’re not. You’re having a panic attack.”

“Happened b-before,” you wheeze, staring at your hands to make sure they’re real “I’m good.”

“And I’m a humble introvert that loves Slytherin, sit down.” You begin to wheeze, rubbing your hands over your legs to stop them from sweating, ground yourself maybe. “I’m gonna hug you, tight. Is that alright?” You nod, because you’re not entirely sure what he’s just said and it’s easier to comply.

He encloses you in an embrace, loosening for only a second when you fight it. He’s squeezing again, but it’s not unpleasant. You’re shaking, and your breaths are still rapid. James swallows, terrified and unsure. Because all of this usually helps Sirius but he’s still kind of freaking the fuck out.

“Let’s talk about something.” He suggests, wincing when you hiccup for air in reply. “I know you’ll love this. What’s something about me that annoys you?” You’re aware he’s trying to distract you, and you feel like you’re dying, so you give it a go in the off chance it’ll help.

“You’re im-immature.”

“Good. But you’ve done better than that, love.”

“You’re reckless. You play quidditch like,” you lick your lips, trying to control your trembling. “Like you’re indestructible.”

“Attagirl, something else?”

“You’re picky, and...And you’re too stubborn to try new things.” James hums, recalling a time you’d forced him to drink pumpkin juice an he hurled in the lavatory minutes later. He rests his chin on your head, pleased when the added pressure slows your breathing.

“You’d do anything for your friends, no matter the personal expense. It’s self destructive, p-probably exhausting.”

“Ouch. You really know how to flatter a man, love.”

“I don’t want to go home.” You whisper, so quiet he’d miss it had he not been surveying your every move. The confession shocks even you, and James, for likely the first time in his life, is devastated to be right about something.

“I’m not gonna let you. We’re going to figure this out. I’m gonna figure this out, I promise.”

“You’re doing that thing again.” You note, wiping your nose with the sleeve of your robe. Further comforted in the feel of his chest vibrating against you from laughing.

“And you’re forming full sentences.” He loosens, giving you space to decide whether or not you want to separate. You don’t, not right away, not when you can feel the strong, stable beating of his heart.

“What am I gonna do? I can’t stay here over break. Even if Dumbledore allowed it, my family would-” You falter, unable to finish. James holds tight again, nauseated.

“I promised. And I intend on keeping it, love.”

**********

“Land! Sweet, sweet land.” Sirius cries, throwing himself onto the freshly cut grass.

“James, it’s stunning.” Lilly shades her eyes to admire the shore house. Standing taller than the others around it.

“It’s home. Away from home, that is.” James shrugs, and you can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. There’s a faint, deep-rooted envy for the blessings your friends hold. Sirius rolls onto his back to look at you, the only one noticing your hunched shoulders amongst the rest of the group beginning to unload the van.

“Shall we go inside, lovely? Get dibs on the best rooms while these common folk collect our luggage. He extends his arm for you to take, adjusting the sunglasses adorning his face and ignoring the displeased looks of your friends. Stealing a kiss to your temple as he leads you inside.

“Moony, sweetheart, do be careful with my things. I’ll show you what bed to place them on.”

“Fuck off, Pads.”

“That’s Sir Padfoot, to you.”

You and Sirius falter, shocked to see an older woman placing the finishings of a homemade meal on the large kitchen table. The inside is even more impressive than the out, but you don’t have much time to appreciate the decorum. Considering you’re engulfed in an oddly familiar embrace.

“Welcome, welcome!” She beams, holding Sirius’ face and kissing his cheeks with small pinches.

“How’s my Siri?”

“Alright, mum. Thanks. James didn’t mention you’d be here. Though it’s a very happy surprise.” He looks at the wrinkled, stunning woman that smells of lavender and tea like she’s hung every star in the sky. It’s then you make the obvious connection this is Mrs. Potter.

“Oh, he doesn’t know either. I’m only here to make sure you’re all settled in and then I’ll be on my way. We haven’t visited here in a while, I wanted to be sure it looked alright for you all.”

“Hard to imagine it ever looks less than gorgeous,” you say without thinking, “thank you for having us. This is lovely.”

“And so are you, dear. Sirius, tell me this beautiful young girl is with you?” She strokes your hair, and it’s the most comforting touch you’ve likely ever felt.

“Only in my dreams, unfortunately. Unless dear y/n would like to make a wish come true?” You laugh, swatting away his puckered lips.

“Y/n? Oh, I’ve been waiting to meet you! Sweetheart, Jamie talks about you so much in his letters!”

“Let’s get waste-Mum!” James drops the bag in hand, yours. Pulling the handle of liquor behind his back in pure shock. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d have a warm meal waiting for you kids. You must be starving after that drive. Though I’m so happy you did as opposed to powdering here. Shows some responsibility. And Jamie gets so sick sometimes with the powder and all-”

“Mum!” The taller boy repeats, setting the array of luggage in hand down and hiding the bottle behind it.

“I’m doting, aren’t I? Remmy!” She stops herself, rushing over to envelop the taller boy in her arms. He, just as Sirius, is absolutely pleased to see her. She goes down the line of girls, putting faces to names and genuinely loving every second of it. James sighs, no genuine distaste in his nature as he observes.

Sirius throws an arm over your shoulder, cheeky as ever. “Mum was just telling us about your letters home.”

“You’re just as pretty as he said you were. All you girls are so beautiful!” She goes on, blissfully unaware of her beet-red son.

“She exaggerates.” James scratches his neck, skin burning with embarrassment.

“Does she?” Siris pulls you closer, basking in your shared humiliation.

“This food looks wonderful Mrs. Potter. Thank you so much for thinking of us.” Lilly clasps her hands together, rolling her eyes fondly at James’ indebted glance.

“Call me Euphemia, please. And yes, you all must be starving. Come, fill those bellies with something warm.” You’re in a state of shock as you sit, unaccustomed to such hospitality and genuine kindness. It’s evident where James gets his big heart, undying selflessness.

The food is amazing, you all go for seconds with a chorus of shared appreciation and compliments. Euphemia beams as she collects her things, pleased to meet the lot of friends her son cares for so deeply.

“All the beds have fresh sheets, and there’s extra throw blankets in the linen closet. Jamie, your father says go easy on the fire whisky. He’d ask for no drinking, but we all know that’s a long shot. Don’t break anything, and Remmy, keep everyone in check.” The taller boy nods swiftly, no doubt having heard the orders before. James gets up from his seat, kissing his mothers cheek and enveloping her in a hug.

“Thank you mum, seriously.” She fixes his hair, wiping invisible smudges from his face in a fit of doting.

“No problem, I’m glad you were all able to make it here. You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like. All of you.” Theres a quick moment where she meets both you and Sirius’ eyes, the two of you nodding with feigned smiles. Quickly, she kisses both Moony and Padfoot’s heads, stopping for only a moment to caress your cheek with her thumb, a faint sadness in her gaze. Everyone else is enveloped in conversation, passing servings across the table as they would at the Great Hall.

“You’ll keep an eye on my Jamie, won’t you?” She whispers, touch soothing you with an unknown ease.

“Of course, though I’m not sure he needs it.” You hold her wrist, somehow not minding the affection whatsoever.

“So he likes to think. He does, really, speak so fondly of you in his letters. You’re even more lovely than he described.” You want to cry, so overwhelmed with her generosity and love, a maternal energy so strong it’s wiped your mind of any anxieties.

“Alright, mum. Let the poor girl eat.” James guides her toward the fireplace, while his mother pats his arm and says something to him you don’t quite catch. James’ ears burn bright red, and he nudges her gently so she’ll stop looking over at you. The rest of the group turns toward the fireplace, echoing their farewells and gratuity as she waves. Floo powder enveloping the space around her and sending her off.

“Does that turn your stomach just looking at it, Jamie?” Marlene mocks, the rest of your laughing through bites of food as he flips her off.

“Fuck off, the lot of you.”

“We should start cleaning up.” You suggest, taking your own plate and bringing it to the sink. “This way we can unpack before the sun sets.” Lilly follows, taking her and Dorcas’ plate to you as you begin washing. Sirius groans, grabbing a dish towel from one of the drawers and drying the dishes you hand him.

“Can’t we just charm the sponges to clean these?”

“Dad had them countered so they can’t be charmed. Said it was supposed to teach me some ‘household responsibility.’” Sirius howls, thoroughly amused.

“I’m just curious about these detailed letters back home.” Remus mutters as he carries his plate past James, dodging his swings and rushing toward the group at the sink for safety.

*****************

After everyone’s settled in, and you’ve all recovered from the ‘who called what room first’ arguments, there’s an obligatory round of shots. A bin begins to pile high with cans, and you’re all sat around a bonfire atop the Potter’s outdoor furniture. Even the furniture for the backyard looks expensive, so you clutch your drink in hopes not to make any spills.

You’re buzzed now, skin tingling with an uncommon ease as you lean against the arm of the couch. Sea breeze easing the warm air as the fire pops in front of you.

“Alright, none of you are drunk enough.” Sirius chastises, shifting in his seat and tossing Lilly another beer. “Never have I ever,” you all groan in half-assed annoyance as the name of the game sounds, “been snitched on by Peeves.”

You and the rest of the girls take slow, ashamed, sips. The boys all looking over in amazement.

“We snuck out one time! All I wanted was a bloody butter beer.” Marlene confesses, flushed. James stretches as he approaches, still sore from driving. He passes you his cup, grinning when you cringe at whatever concoction he’s come up with. You move your legs so he can sit beside you, the rest of the couches having been taken.

“It was a terrible craving, but nonetheless worth the loss of points for Gryffindor.”

“Is that why we were tied with Ravenclaw mid semester?” Remus laughs over his cup.

“We still won the cup!” You and Lilly defend, James taking hold of your legs to place them on top of his. He isn’t even thinking about it, too enthralled with the teasing conversation before him as he slides a hand under the cuff of your jeans. Warm hands calloused from quidditch running over your shin. You’ve always found affection with him comes easier than with others, and the touch comforts you, electricity lingering on your skin.

“Never have I ever, had my first kiss.” Because Dorcas also aims to have the rest of you drinking more, she says what she thinks is the most common proposition. Your stomach turns, and you debate on taking a sip just because it’ll spare you the embarrassment. You must consider it too long, because Sirius’ brows shoot up in shock.

“Merlin, how?” Is all Sirius manages, the girls’ jaws dropping because you’ve never told them.

“I volunteer!” Marlene shoots a hand up while you curl into the cushions, wishing you’d just had the drink.

“It’s not that there haven’t been opportunities.” You struggle through the explanation, tugging on the sleeves of your shirt to fight the cold. “I just, I guess, want the first one to matter. If it’s been this long I may as well make it special.” They all coo in mocking, laughing when you flip them off.

“I get it.” James pats your leg, taking generous sips of his own drink.

“You don’t.” Theres an amusement in your tone, no real meanness to any of it.

“Well what about that Hufflepuff third semester, he was totally into you.” Dorcas inquires.

“Are we seriously this interested in my love life, or lack thereof?” You roll your eyes when they all agree, giddy from the topic and the alcohol. “I thought he was into me, but I don’t know. We stopped talking after a while.”

“Wait,” Remus narrows his brows, too contemplative to see James’ signals. “That curly haired guy, beater for Huffle?” You nod, giggling because he’s not usually this slow to understanding, clearly inebriated.

“Wasn’t that the kid that came up to us at Hogsmeade, Prongs?” Potter vehemently shakes his head, chugging his drink again.

“Nope, I don’t think so.”

“No, I’m pretty sure it was. You two didn’t get on that well, I think.” Sirius covers his mouth to muffle his laughing, basking in Moony’s drunken confession.

“You sabotaged me!” You frown, James grabbing your leg so you can’t kick his side.

“Listen, I overheard him boasting in the locker room. He’s not the type you should be around. Trust me.” He’s sincere, enough to make you relax.

“He was a bit of an ass, sweetheart. Prongs isn’t entirely wrong.”

“You two are still snog-blocks.” Dorcas is quick at your defense, crossing her arms in solidarity.

“If I wasn’t banished to solitude, I’d kiss you, Dorcas.”

“Time and place, lovely.” You clutch your heart, feigning a blush in your antics.

*********

“Alright, I need my beauty rest. Someone needs to remain the prettiest of the friend group.” Sirius stretches, tapping a dazed Remus on the cheek to get him up. His actions initiate the turning in of the rest of the group. To which you and James groan.

“It’s only 2, you’re all lame!” Potter sneers, looking to you for consolation. You nod along, displeased with their departure.

“You night owls can stay up as long as you want, but we have all week to be sleep deprived.” Marlene ruffles James’ hair and kisses your temple as she stupors inside, giggling all the way with the other girls.

“And then there were two.” You stretch, moving over when James shifts, moving into a laying position. In order to fit comfortably, you still have to keep your legs over his. “You know, now theres three other open couches.”

“I like it here.” He decides, enclosing his hands over his chest and settling in. You chuckle, letting him tangle his legs in yours.

It’s confusing, because he chooses you as his passenger, his seat-mate, scares other guys away. Fuck, he planned an entire trip just because you and Sirius have such shitty home lives. Guilt twinges in your chest, and the alcohol allows you to finally say what you’ve been holding in since you first got in the car. “James?” He hums, hazel eyes looking up at the array of stars in the night sky. “Why did you do all this?” Potter sits up, looking over to you in disbelief.

“Why wouldn’t I? Don’t you like it here?”

“Like it? It’s a shore house filled with all of my closest friends and alcohol. I love it here.” He laughs, nudging your legs with his own in teasing.

“I’ve been wanting to ask you something,” he starts, answering your question with one of his own. “Would you be willing to spend the whole summer here?”

This time, you sit up, brows raised in shock. “Sorry?”

“Instead of having to go home, you could stay here.”

“James, I couldn’t possibly intrude like that-”

“It wouldn’t just be us two.” He unnecessarily reassures. “I’ve already spoke with Pads, and he’s staying. My mum doesn’t want him going home either.”

“You already talked to your parents about it?”

“In the chance either of you said yes. They both are more than happy to have us stay here. There’s internship positions at my dad’s company, and he said if we looked after the house and helped him out, we’d be more than welcome to stay.”

“Are you starting a shelter for the broken homes club or something?” You jest, not in poor taste, but because it’s the only defense mechanism you know. James frowns anyway, upset at the thought.

“I care about the both of you. And...I’d never want either of you going home to- Well, anything other than a place you feel safe. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you. Knowing I could have stopped it. Understand?”

You nod, warm tears brimming in your eyes. Because in a world full of people that don’t, James Potter cares. You tackle him in a hug, overcome with the foreign feeling of being cared about, protected. He falters, wrapping an arm around your waist with a small laugh.

“That’s a yes, then?” You nod, smile pulling at your lips when he uses his thumb to wipe away your tears.

“James?”

“Yeah?” He’s soft-spoken now, eyes studying yours as you press your hands to his chest.

“Is there...Any other reason you told that guy to stay away from me?” He swallows, licking his lips with an unusual anxiety to him. He meets your eyes again, pleading for another hint.

“Would you want there to be?”

“I’d like to have my first kiss.” You play with a pull in his sweater, fighting a smile at his nervous demeanor. “Would you want it to be you?” He nods, slow, and honestly unsure if you’re fucking with him. Considering how embarrassed he’d be if this is some joke, or a dream, maybe. “James?” You move closer, and he snaps out of his daze.

“I would.” He averts his eyes to your lips, back to your eyes again to ensure you’re sincere. “Like to kiss you, I mean.”

You remove the space between you, putting your lips to his and hoping it comes natural like everyone says. It must, because he’s pulling you into his lap, a hint of a whine escaping his throat. You grin, flushing at his eagerness. He squeezes your sides harder, a warning.

“Stop it.” He continues past your jaw, down your neck, hearts thrumming with excitement and uncertainty. He tilts your head with his thumb, grinning when he nips at your skin and you gasp. Pulling back, he surveys his work, kissing you two more times before letting you breath.

Is that what I’ve been missing out on?” You pant, energy coursing through you and accentuating your buzz tenfold.

“Up to expectations?”

“Exceeded, I’m pretty sure.” You blink hard, taking hold of his wrists and moving them so they can slide under the hem of your shirt. You hold them at your waist, a silent sign to keep them there. Though you’re sure he would have anyway. He kisses you again, more intense this time, finally allowing all the pent up tension between the two of you release.

James, against every fiber of being in his body, pulls you away from him. Both breathing hard to collect yourselves. “While I’d really, really like to keep this up.” He starts, trying not to reconsider when your perfume envelopes his senses. “I’d like to take you out for dinner first. If you’ll let me.”

“Are you asking me on a date, Potter?” You whisper, teasing him as if it’s the hottest gossip to reach Hogwarts.

“Are you gonna say yes, pretty girl? Or leave me hanging?” You nod, and James throws his head back against the cushions, absolutely relieved.

*************

You blink awake, fire still burning brightly after being charmed by Lilly earlier in the evening. In the midst of you and James conversation, filled with recalling old times, plans for the rest of the summer, and a lot more alcohol, you both fell asleep. James’ jumper covers your frame, while the boy lays on the other side with only a sweater to keep warm.

“Prongs.” You nudge him, wincing when he groans. “It’s too cold, let’s go in.”

“Too tired,” he croaks, voice riddled with sleep, “too drunk. Come over on this side.” He rolls on his back, groaning again when the world spins with him.

“What, like...Next to you?”

“No, curled up on the floor like a cat.” Your brows furrow at his sassiness, fighting a smile as you crawl over. Muttering a half-assed apology when you nearly knee his groin.

Hesitantly, you place a head on his chest, letting him grab you under one knee and pulling it up so you leg rests over his abdomen. Immediately, he releases a deep breath, fully relaxed. Your body, though, tingles with that same electricity from before, keeping you awake.

“Sleep.” He orders, nudging the back of your head with his shoulder, eyes closed but somehow aware.

“Can’t.”

“Is this alright?” He blinks awake, afraid he’s made you uncomfortable.

“Good, this is good.” You reassure, pulling on his jumper so it covers both of you. He pushes your arm away, tugging on the fabric and covering only you again, stern in his actions.

“Close your eyes. I need us both to sleep this alcohol off so I can kiss you again.”

“Who says I’ll let you, Potter?”

“I may have been your first kiss, but I’m also aiming to be your last. So please, Dove, shut up and sleep” You’re speechless, he’s stunned you with his confession and simultaneous attitude.

“I hate you.”

“I seriously doubt that.” There’s a smile on his face, you can hear it in his grumbling voice. Wordlessly, he moves the arm that’s under you so he can stroke your cheek, eyebrows, and jaw with the hook of his finger. Knowing the gentle touch will send you off to sleep. And it does, because you don’t wake again until morning.

********

“Rise and shine, love birds. If you want to hoot with the owls, you’ve got to fly with the eagles.” Sirius chimes, a click of a camera sounding out after he speaks.

“Any louder, Pads, and I’ll break your jaw.” James covers your ears, shielding you from your friends shrill laughter with an intense glare. His head pounds something awful, and he’s pretty sure he’s never been this hungover in his entire life. He remembers every second, though, memories of last night bringing a dopey smile to his face. Despite the alcohols consequences.

“Hey.” He nudges your arm, ignoring the gawking of his friends through the glass sliding door as he wakes you. You yawn, stretching atop him and regaining sense of your surroundings.

“Are we supposed to be spinning?” James rolls his eyes, much too fond of you for his own good.

“We have to get up, theres breakfast.”

“I can’t eat a single thing right now.”

“Yes you can,” he pushes you again, sighing in feigned annoyance when you rub your face into his shirt. Shielding the morning light from your eyes. In one swift movement, he sits you both up and hurls you over his shoulder, ignoring your squirms of protest with an obnoxious yawn. He sets you down at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, grumbling a hello to your astonished group of friends. You’re too hungover to feel embarrassed, smiling a thank you to Remus when he slides his glass of orange juice toward you, Sirius’ sunglasses over his eyes.

“Gimme those,” you plead, extending an arm that’s quickly swatted away.

“Get your own,” he whines, “I let you have my juice.” You accept this, nursing the glass as though it’ll save your life.

“Late night?” Lilly teases, putting a plate of food in front of you and James. You both groan, but offer your gratitude for breakfast anyway.

“Figured you would have at least made it inside.” Marlene chastises, amused with your zombie-like states. You frown when James finishes what’s left in your glass, watching as he leans across the counter to grab the carton and refills it. Sirius places a steaming cup of tea in front of you and Potter, avoiding your distrusting gaze as he clears his throat to speak.

He’s awfully cheeky all the sudden, hoisting himself onto the counter with his signature mischievous grin. “Never have I ever…Had my first kiss?” His voice tilts in questioning at the end, and you’re momentarily displeased with the realization you’ll be spending the rest of the summer with the shit-starting bastard you consider a friend.

You’re absolutely flushed, curling in on yourself when a chorus of cheers erupts after taking a swift sip from your mug.

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3minsover · 1 year ago

Text

Steddie Dancing With the Stars AU (posted on twitter a little while ago)

Eddie Munson used to be in a band.

They were successful, hit the mainstream at just 19 years old, and had almost 4 years of success. But it’s been 8 years since the band fell apart, and when Eddie’s manager suggests he do something like Dancing With the Stars, he’s initially appalled. He’s a Serious Musician. He’s not about to make a fool of himself fucking about in spandex on live television. But management feed him the Exposure line; it’ll make him a household name again, remind people he exists. So he has his people say yes. Though, he’d left it late to agree to the offer, so he’s only a back up in case someone else drops out. He’ll most probably not have to even do it. Sweet. Except, a week before filming starts, someone does drop out. bumping eddie up to main cast.

Shit.

He’s paired with a guy, Steve. Has no issues with dancing with a man; they’re not the only same sex couple this season and it’s cool to see even a little progress. What he very much does have an issue with, however, is Steve Harrington. Who made no effort to hide how disappointed he was that the man Eddie’d been replacing - some ex-football player - had dropped out last minute, and how he ‘guesses Eddie’ll do.’ Steve’s pushy and demanding, and frankly a bit of a bitch. But he’s a fucking great dancer. Even Eddie can see that. they get through the first couple weeks of live shows easily enough, but it’s tough faking a smile and agreeing that, ‘Oh, i’m just so lucky to have Steve as my partner.’

The night after the third live show, when Eddie had missed a step and nearly tripped Steve, when muscles are sore and nerves are frayed, they get into it in the parking lot out back of the studio.

Eddie confronts Steve about his attitude, and Steve bites back about Eddie’s own. It takes one of the other dancers to break them apart, all up in each other’s faces as they were. They’re told to cool the fuck off, start again on Monday. Only, when monday rolls around, Steve announces their dance this week is the Argentine Tango.

Eddie’s heard of it, another couple danced it last week. lots of twisting and stepping and flicking of legs. Fucking nonsense, honestly. Steve sits Eddie down and shows him the choreo he’ll be doing, gliding over the studio floor, arms raised at the elbow, hands floating in the air in front of his chest, and Eddie finds himself itching to be clasped within those hands. He almost slaps himself at the thought. They work through the first few sequences, Eddie giving lacklustre leg-raises between Steve’s calves. after a particularly half-hearted flick, Steve tightens his grip on Eddie’s biceps and jolts him, forcing Eddie to look at him. They’re chest to chest, nose to nose, heartbeats already elevated from the movement.

"You don’t get to fuck this up for me," Steve growls, eyes boring into eddie’s with a darkness he’s not seen in the month they’ve known each other.

"You think I’m doing this on purpose? I can’t do it, it looks stupid."

"It only looks stupid if you don’t try," Steve snarls in response. "Let’s keep going." He swings the pair around to their next position. And then Steve does something that has Eddie’s jaw dropping open.

Steve drops into a crouch, sliding one leg swiftly out to the side. the angle seems impossible, and it has Eddie thinking all sorts of things about how flexible Steve is. Steve’s hands have slid down Eddie’s arms and are circling his wrists, pulling on them just enough for Steve to keep his balance.

"Okay, and then you’re going to spin me round from left to right. Can you do that?" Steve asks. But Eddie’s unable to focus on the question, because all he can see is Steve, face-height with his junk, looking up at him through those long lashes.

"Uh. Can I- gimme a second." Eddie tears himself away from Steve’s grasp, rushes out of the studio and into the foyer. He’s lightheaded with lust and his cheeks are burning.

This isn’t happening. He doesn’t like Steve. He’d been secretly planning to sabotage their performance so they’d get voted off, but now. Now he’s already craving the featherlight touch of Steve’s fingertips as he repositions Eddie’s head, as he guides his hands to the correct place. He eventually returns to the rehearsal room, having splashed some cold water over his flushed face.

Steve does the move again, and Eddie spins him, staying silent but for confirmation of Steve’s instructions. And then Steve slowly raises himself up until he’s pressed back against Eddie’s chest, leaning ever so slightly to his left to look back at Eddie’s face.

"The Argentine is about desire. Want. Lust. It’s about craving. You have to look at me like you crave me," Steve almost whispers, and Eddie’s legs feel weak. Eddie swallows, blinks hard, can’t help the way his gaze dips down to trace over Steve’s plush pink lips. When he looks back up, Steve’s eyes are wide and searching. "Yeah, like that," Steve breathes, though Eddie had been making no conscious effort to look at Steve in any way other than the way Steve makes him feel.

And if Eddie realizes now that that feeling is desire, then that’s just gonna make this whole thing a fuckton more interesting.

#steddie #stranger things au #fanfic #3minsover #steve harrington x eddie munson #originally posted on twitter

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silverstonesainz-archive · 2 years ago

Note

❛ you’re welcome to stay, if you want. ❜ + the mick from my brainrot 🫶🏽

idk how to feel about this one

boy next door (ms47) ─── maybe forgetting your keys isn't too bad after all

you groan loudly, finally releasing the door knob of your front door and giving it a kick for good measure.

“well that’s one way to open it.”

your head shoots up, eyes landing on your neighbor who offers you a warm smile. but the smile falls as soon as he sees the distress on your face, the clear look of annoyance laced into your features. he holds his hands up in surrender, angie’s leash hanging in the crease between his thumb and index finger. he mumbles a quick sorry, but you only shake your head and take steps backwards until your back hits the wall.

“no sorry, didn’t need to look at you so mean.”

he takes cautious towards you, the dog following her owner’s lead. she sits at your feet, panting and seemingly smiling up at you. your lip all but twitches upward before you scratch her head.

“i’m mick.” he introduces himself, to which you do the same. “locked yourself out?”

“yeah. think my key is probably still on the damn hook by the door too.” you sigh softly, “called the building but they don’t have anyone available to come and unlock my door.”

mick looks at his watch, then back up at you. “well, my door is right there. come in and wait, you can play with angie to pass the time.”

“i shouldn’t.”

“i insist.”

his smile is warm enough to entice you, put you at ease, and convince that he wouldn’t try to kill you. you let out a breath, nodding and following him the few feet down the hall and to his front door. angie leads the way through the front door, running straight to the couch and waiting patiently for either you or her owner to join her. mick calls out something in german, and it pulls angie off the couch and onto the rug instead.

“she’s well trained,” you comment.

mick hums, nodding as he hangs the leash up and leads you further into his home. “thanks. she’s a good girl when she wants to be. want some tea?”

he brews tea his mom sent him a couple weeks ago, promising he’d get back to you on the name when he remembers. you start in the kitchen, sitting across the other as mick listens to you talk about your day. he’s quiet, attentive, blue eyes never leaving you as you drone on and on. he interjects here and there, but he lets you talk for the most part. he’d never admit it out loud, but he likes your voice. liked it so much he let you drone on and on, even when he offered the couch.

you try to ask him about himself, though the trophies on shelves and pictures hung up tell stories of their own. you nearly choked when you realize who your neighbor turns out to be, but you try not to let it show. mick doesn’t talk much about racing though. he talks about hiking and his favorite trails. he tells you about his trip to australia with his friend jack, and how he’s determined to travel to even more places in the coming year. you like his voice, how it’s soft and gentle. you’d never tell him that though.

the next time you look at your watch, an hour and a half has flown past you and you still had yet to hear from the building management or the locksmith. you yawn softly, eyes already feeling heavy.

“its getting late,” you mumble, “i can go wait in the hallway if you’re ready to turn in…”

“nonsense. you’re welcome to stay, if you want.”

“you don’t mind?”

“not at all.”

mick hops off the couch, disappearing down the hall of his apartment. it’s laid out almost exactly like yours, just flipped. and his view is far better, with the skyline twinkling through the window. you had a view of the pool, which appealed to your nosy tendencies.

he comes back not too long later, pillow and blankets in his arms. you try to help him fix up the couch, but he shoos you away before you can even lay a finger on the blanket.

“i left some clothes out for you in the bathroom if you wanna change. a toothbrush too.”

you smile, uttering a thank you and moving down the hall. folded neatly by the sink is a mercedes tshirt, grey sweatpants, and one purple toothbrush. you take a look around, stifling a laugh at how messily organized his bathroom is. towels are crookedly hung up on the rack, shaving products on the sink instead of on the shelf, and other hygienic products on the other side. all grouped together, but not where they’re meant to be. the one thing that catches you the most of guard is his toothpaste, squeezed and rolled up from the bottom.

after changing and brushing your teeth, you return to the living room to find mick standing by while idly using his phone. he looks up at the sound of your feet pitter-pattering into the room.

“i wasn’t sure if you slept with the tv on or not, but i left the remote on the table. and i got you a glass of water in case too.” he smiles proudly, pointing to the remote and glass on the coffee table. you mumble a thanks, walking over and around the couch. he watches you move about, plopping onto the couch. he clears his throat. “im gonna go to bed, but if you need anything just knock on my good.”

you nod, “thanks again mick.”

“of course.”

it’s quiet, not a single movement as you both bask in the other’s presence. you feel your cheeks begin to heat up when you notice him staring, averting your gaze quickly. he’s the same way, blushing pink as he turns away and scratches the nape of his neck.

“well… good night.”

“good night mick.”

he scurries off, the bedroom door shutting quietly. you lay down, inhaling the scent of mick on his pillow. and you smile to yourself, burying your face in it as you pull the covers up to your chin, falling asleep and dreaming about the boy next door.

#tea & toast w dani #mick schumacher #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher imagine #ms47 drabble

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acciopietro · 2 years ago

Text

doctor pt. 3

pairing: namor x fem! reader

summary: you take an opportunity despite the repercussions. namor’s determination to protect his people blinds him.

part one part two part four

word count: 6,939

tw: lots and lots of death. forced suicide (because of the talokanil sirens). the typically stuff. lots of angsty and sadness

a/n: i was listening to happiness is a butterfly while writing so this took a turn for sure... it took a hot minute but i hope you enjoy nonetheless!! i’m nervous ab this so pls let me know your honest opinions...it kind of took a turn

part one part two

IT REALLY ONLY TOOK ONE email to make your heart drop. It was a phone call and a series of texts, too, but it was the email that did it for you. Arial, Size 12 font, formal greeting, body paragraph, half-hearted thank you, polite goodbye. Signed Doctor Reynolds, Ph.D., with the name of your team and company. Message subject: Wakanda.

You read it with vigilant eyes, still hands resting on the metal of your laptop, blue light from the screen casting a cool glow onto your tired skin. The music in your earbuds continued to play, but the sound of The Weeknd wasn’t helping calm the way your heart’s steady beat began to pick up. The words on the email flashed out at you as if they were bolded: Wakanda, harvesting, vibranium, testing, trip. Trip?

“Hi, Doctor Reynolds,” you spoke casually into your telephone, despite your palms sweating around the handle of it. Twisting the coiled cord of it with your index finger, you said, “Yeah, I just got the email. I just had some questions...”

Long story short, a team of marine scientists had ventured into the pacific, delving into the deep seas in search of the vibranium you had found a little over a year ago. You had abandoned that research per Namor’s (tacit) request (more like demand), however, you had known that it was bound to be looked at at some point. The issue was that ships were now apparently being hijacked, their tracking machines being destroyed under water as well as large groups of scientists somehow falling off ship and into the waters to their tragic death. No one knew why.

Reynolds believed Wakanda had something to do with it. He believed that since they were well known for being the sole producers and protectors of all the Earth’s vibranium, he was under the impression that they were trying to stop the United States scientists from harvesting it. Which, you had thought to yourself, would be plausible considering the United States was notorious for taking things that weren’t necessarily theirs.

“Why are we getting involved?” you asked Reynold, gripping your scalp anxiously as you listened to Reynolds explain the situation. “It’s not like if we take a boat out there, we, somehow, will miraculously end up okay. If boats are being hijacked, then... oh, I don’t know...”

Reynold went on and on.

“Wait... you mean to tell me that you already booked it?” you shrilled. “Please excuse me if I’m stepping out of line here, but it’s very likely that our boat will just get hijacked, too. And besides, why do we care so much about vibranium, again? It doesn’t harm any marine life or ecosystems...”

Reynolds spewed a bunch of nonsensical answers, beating around the bush and never quite landing on the reason you know was true: getting money and getting power. Often the root of many of Reynolds’s aspirations.

“You’re more than welcome to deny the job,” Reynold says. “But I’ve decided that I want you on that boat. You’re a useful member of this team. Whether you like it or not, this could be very big.”

You clenched your jaw. “I’ll think about it.”

“You’ve got a week.”

You had only been home from Yucatán for one month. You had a wonderful four months of being with your sister and her family in the days and sneaking off with your man from the sea at night. You couldn’t have gotten closer to Namor; well, unless he took off his shorts and... well, you wouldn’t let him do it, anyways. He had asked. A few times. More than a few times. But for some reason, you just couldn’t do it. For starters, you weren’t on the pill and you were sure there wasn’t contraception under the sea (you asked if he had a condom one time, and he asked you what language that word was in. For someone who is immortal, he sure didn’t know a lot).

You felt like sleeping with him for real for real would make things realer. It made him more of a commitment, gave him more power. And you told yourself you wouldn’t let it happen unless you were absolutely sure that he deserved it. It was really hard to say no sometimes, though. He sure knew how to persuade you.

Accepting the job and getting on the damn boat would for sure cause an issue if Namor found out. You didn’t want to search for vibranium, especially knowing the damage it would do to Wakanda if the United States got access to such a resource, and to Talokan if the States got knowledge of their existence. But... Reynolds personally invited you, and it could do wonders for your career if it went well.

“I don’t see why not,” your sister said when you told her of your predicament the next day. “I mean, I understand the hesitation, especially if boats are being hijacked. But who knows, maybe they’ll get an Avenger and put them on board with you to keep you safe. Hopefully it’s Captain America.”

“As much as I’d love to have Sam Wilson on a boat with me for two weeks, I’m still not sure,” you groaned, plopping down onto your couch and opening up your laptop, the blue light hitting your face as you held your phone against your ear with your shoulder. Scrolling through the news, you said, “It just feels like a thing just for money. And, like, yeah, it is, but I... wait a second...”

You stopped scrolling, eyes casting across the headline of the latest CNN article, your lips falling apart. Wakanda’s King T’Challah dead at 41.

“Oh my gosh,” you breathed. Your sister asked you what it was on the other side of the phone, and you hastily forwarded the article to hear. She cursed, and both of you fell silent as you read. “Jesus Christ. I can’t go on that boat.”

---

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU won’t get on the boat?” asked Reynolds the followed week when you went into office. You shook your head, clenching your jaw.

“King T’Challah just died,” you told him matter-of-factly. “And if there really is more vibranium out there, and the States gets access to it, that’ll do a lot of damage to Wakanda.”

“We are not giving the States access to it,” Reynolds furrowed his brow, the hair of his grey mustache fluttering as he spoke. “We’re just figuring out how much of its in the water. It’s not our job to start harvesting it, that’s up to Archeology.”

“It doesn’t matter who does what,” you said feverishly. “We’re still helping do something that will eventually lead to bad things for Wakanda. And I don’t feel comfortable doing that, especially after their king just passed away.”

Reynolds narrowed his eyes at you, and said nothing before circling around to his desk and clicking the mouse of his computer. You blinked, watching him search around for something with a stern face. You waited a minute for him to speak, and when he didn’t, you cleared your throat.

“Sir..?”

“Look, L/N,” Reynolds looked at you from over his bifocals. “I understand where you stand on these more... well, political aspects of the job. But this is a big opportunity I’m offering you. If you decline, fine, but I’ll know that you’re not up to the task. I’ll give the job to Quade.”

You clenched your jaw, feeling something bubble in your stomach. Ugh, you thought. Quade. He was the worst. You knew it was wrong to take this job. Morally, it was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

“Okay,” you sighed defeatedly. “I’ll... I’ll do it.”

“Good,” Reynolds gave you a nod and stopped typing. He pressed the delete button and held it down. “I can get rid of this email to Quade then. We leave Friday. Back your bags and tell your family you love ‘em.”

---

UNDER THE THRASHING WAVES OF the Gulf of Mexico sat a king on his throne, his forearms resting on his strong, tensed thighs as he read a piece of torn paper. He had to put the paper under pieces of surface-dweller plastic so the pages didn’t fall apart under the water, but even still, the ink had smeared a bit. Nonetheless, Namor sat, his jaw clenched, and he read.

Namor, the letter read.

Hopefully this letter got to you all right-- my niece isn’t always too reliable. I’m writing to you in an attempt to explain myself so you don’t find out from other sources. Some people from my team will be sailing out into the Gulf with another team that’s mining for vibranium. I wanted to deny the job, but I need to take whatever opportunities they throw my way if I want to keep my head above water. I’m going to do my best to protect you and your people, but there’s only so much I can do. I’m sorry. Really, I am. If there’s anything I can do that you can think of (without totally tarnishing my reputation and/or getting fired), find a way to let me know, and I’ll do it. Again, I’m really sorry. I hope you can forgive me. Hopefully I’ll see you soon.

Sincerely Apologetically Love

From, Y/N

Namor gripped the paper tight between his calloused, jewelry covered hands. Lifting his head, he glanced up at his people, the civilization they had built together, the vibranium everyone wore. He glanced at the chest plate he wore, the cuffs around his arms, at the vibranium he wore. It was everything.

He clenched his jaw, bowing his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. He laid the paper down on his lap, squeezing his eyes shut to think.

“Namora!” he called out hastily, and after a little over a minute, the woman emerged into the space and walked up to him, standing before his throne. She knelt, opening up her palms to him in a greeting before standing up. “K'abéet in actualizaciones yóok'ol le láak' rastreador. Yaan in biin ta wéetel (I need updates on the next tracker. I’ll be going with you).”

---

THE DRIVE TO THE PORT was peaceful, palm trees swaying in the breeze and reminding you that, although it wasn’t Mexico, you were appreciative for the beauty and pleasantries of the place you lived in. Florida, with all of its ups and downs-- and you meant all of them-- was nice. The giant boat was astonishing once your Uber pulled up. People were hustling and bustling about the port, and you simply stared up at the giant ship, clutching the strap of your bag and admiring its beauty.

“Ah, Doctor L/N, good to see you. All packed?” asked Doctor Mishra, one of the men of the group who you actually liked to be around. You were thankful he was on the trip. “Boat’s giant, no?”

“Oh, yeah,” you whistled. “Y’know, I’ve never been on a boat like this.”

“I’ve been on a couple of cruises,” Doctor Mishra told you. “Wonderful vacations. However, we will not be waited on on this boat.”

“Fine with me,” you shrugged. “Do we just... go inside, or what?”

“Not sure,” he said. Smiling, he heaved his duffel bag over his shoulder and said, “Let’s find out!

Everything went smoothly for the first week and three days. All the men had to share rooms with at least one other person, and you were lucky enough that everyone agreed that you should have the single room. Your research seemed to be going fairly, however, you never caught a glimpse of the research of the others aside from Doctor Mishra, who you were doing a lot of your work with these days.

One evening, after a nice warm shower, you ventured out onto the deck of the ship, letting the ocean breeze cool your warm cheeks. You caught a glimpse, however, of Dr. Reynolds and Bernstein exchanging words on the deck, standing quite close and speaking under their breaths. You crept closer around the corner, trying to eavesdrop.

“We found it around thirty-five miles from the west tip of Cuba, so we’re thinking if we move closer towards Cancún and Yucatán and all that, we’ll find more,” Bernstein said quietly but firmly. Reynolds nodded his head in understanding.

“But what of the machines?” he asked. “The last one was destroyed, you said, signal lost?”

“Something’s hungry down there,” Bernstein shrugged. “Or however far down the vibranium is, it’s too deep for our computers. We need higher tech to harvest it.”

Your stomach turned. The team wasn’t supposed to be thinking about harvesting vibranium. Reynolds had told you that was up to Archaeology. You gulped and kept listening, fighting the urge to jump out and ask a million questions.

"I’m in contact with some people up north who’ve got new stuff that could work,” Reynolds scratched his white beard pensively. “They’ve had limited success too, but it could be helpful.”

“Us getting this vibranium could change the game,” Bernstein said emphatically. “I mean, can you imagine if the government realized we had this stuff? They’d pay us a lot of money to take it off our hands.”

“This is more than just money, Bernstein,” Reynolds said lowly. “If Wakanda found out that the States got hold of the one thing they’ve got on us? We’re back on top.”

“Holy shit,” Bernstein ran a hand through his oily blonde hair and grinned. “I went into the right profession, that’s for damn sure!”

“Yes, well, let’s just see what the other men have gathered in the past week and compare,” Reynolds told him. “Maybe there’s something right under our noses that we haven’t noticed.”

You clenched your jaw and stepped out from behind the corner. You squeezed a fist in one hand to prevent yourself from lashing out, and it wasn’t until you cleared your throat that the two men noticed you.

“Oh, L/N!” Reynolds gave a gasp of surprise and then a chuckle. “Wasn’t expecting you to be out so late. Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“I don’t have a bedtime, sir, I’m a grown woman,” you said firmly. “But you’ve got about twenty years on me, so I’m confused as to why you’re not in bed either.”

Bernstein and Reynolds shared a glance.

“I’m also confused about all this I’m hearing about harvesting vibranium,” you said, not saying anything for a heartbeat to give them room to defend themselves. “I didn’t think that was what we were doing here. I also thought that as a team we were supposed to be, I don’t know, working together?”

“Look, L/N, you’ve got your own research, and so do we. We chose not to include you because you, for some reason, seemed very against delving deeper into this vibranium business,” Reynolds explained in a slow and calm voice as if he were speaking to a child. “This could be very lucrative for us and helpful for American forces.”

“You’re hiding shit from everyone,” you spat.

“No, I’m not,” Reynolds sneered. “Just from you.”

As if someone had pressed a button, all of a sudden Reynolds and Bernstein stood upright, their faces blank, eyes fogged over. You furrowed your brow and snapped in front of the former's face. A song began to echo the ship, as if someone was playing it on the loudspeakers, and you glanced around as if to see if someone else noticed it.

You glanced up to the top deck, where a man stood next to a large scope. He was walking very uniformly, his face blank as well, and you watched as he continued to walk and walk and walk until--

You screamed bloody murder. The man walked until he reached the railing, where he hopped over it and simply threw himself off the ledge and into the depths of the ocean below. Breathing heavily, you whipped yourself around and watched as Reynolds, mesmerized by the song, began to walk towards the railing, Bernstein at his heels.

“No!” you cried, grabbing ahold of Reynolds’s arm to hold him back; he thrashed himself out of your grasp and climbed over the railing. You grappled at the back of his shirt, trying to tug him back, but he too, like a rag doll, plummeted into the crashing waves below. Bernstein was looming closer to the railing, and you wrapped your arms around his torso to hold him back.

You kept seeing men out of the corner of your eyes walk over the edge and throw themselves into the sea. You hadn’t realized it, but tears were pricking out of the corners of your eyes as you mustered up all your strength to try and hold Bernstein back from the edge.

“Snap-- out-- of-- it!” you cried, and brought one of your hands to slap him clean across the face. To no avail. Balling up a fist, you let go of him and stood between him and the railing; you wound up your arm and socked him clean across the face, to which he toppled onto his back. Blood was now seeping from his nose, but at least he wasn’t walking to his death.

You squinted out into the sea, to try and figure out the source of the sound, but all you saw was the water and the midnight blue horizon. A groan from behind you alerted your attention; you dropped to your knees, shaking Bernstein awake.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you cried. He wiped his nose, the blood staining the sleeve of his white shirt.

“You fuckin’ punched me!” Bernstein muffled, sitting upright and punching you straight across the face, hard enough for you to topple back onto the deck. He got to his feet, and as if nothing had happened, his face became blank again. You groaned, sitting upright and clutching your bleeding nose as he walked towards the railing again.

“No, no-- stop!” you called out, getting to your feet, but it was too late; Bernstein climbed over the railing and fell face first into the ocean. You saw the tail of a dolphin in the distance as his body disappeared, and you squeezed your eyes shut, covering your face with your hands, blood from your nose seeping through your fingers. “Jesus christ, what the fuck? What the actual fuck? What the fuck is happening?”

SPLASH! You drew your hands away from your face, and to your horror, saw the fins of sharks circling around the boat, the occasional tale of a dolphin, or the splashes of other marine life you couldn’t identify from so far away. The beating of your heart was so fast that at this rate you were sure you could die of a heart attack. Unable to take your eyes away from the sea of troubles below you, you were terrified to see the body of a whale rise close enough to the surface for you to see, and what shocked you the most was the outline of a person riding on its back. Your jaw dropped.

Without a second thought, you sprinted towards the hatch that led to the inside of the ship. You ran at top speed across the creaky wooden floor until you reached your room, grabbing your bag that held your journal, your phone, your laptop, and your camera. A knock at your door made you jump and almost yelp.

“It’s just me,” it was Doctor Mishra, his hair disheveled and his eyes wild. He had on a large pair of earmuffs. “Are you okay? Your nose is bleeding!”

“No!” you practically screeched. “I just fucking watched the entire crew kill themselves!”

“Everyone?”

“Well, I don’t know about everyone,” you stammered, shoving anything and everything important to you into your bag. You grabbed the printed map of the gulf, with annotations and drawings and other kinds of markings, and rolled it quickly before shoving it into your bag. Picking up your taser, you blinked at it before shoving it into your bag, too. “Bernstein and Reynolds are gone, same with the rest of the crew on the deck, and the man from the mast, and the--”

“Slow down,” Mishra said to you, squatting down next to you and handing you his handkerchief for your nose. “There’s almost no signal, and the only ways we can send out an S.O.S. are either from the red flare device on the mast, or by the radio in the control room.”

“Okay,” you breathed, putting the straps of your bag over your shoulders and tightening it so it wouldn’t fall off, wiping your nose despite it continuing to bleed. “But... what if we get all weird too and try and walk off?”

“Here,” Mishra fumbled with something in his pocket: wired earbuds. “Plug them into your phone and blast some music. Should do the trick. My earmuffs worked pretty well.”

You grabbed the earbuds from him, untangling them before plugging them into your ears. Grabbing your phone, you shuffled a playlist and turned up the volume. Mishra beckoned you to follow him out the door, to which you complied, Tyler, the Creator’s “ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?” blaring from the earbuds. Not the time, you thought, but you couldn’t afford to stand there a pick a good song for the occasion.

“I’ll head up to the mast,” you offered. “The control room is safer for you since it’s pretty contained.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. “The mast is insanely high, you could get hurt.”

You clenched your jaw. “It’s fine. I’ll send out the flares. Good luck, okay?”

“Take care of yourself,” Mishra told you firmly. “Meet back on the deck in ten minutes or so.”

You nodded and turned, sprinting back up onto the deck and opening the hatch. There were people on the deck, with beautiful feathered headdresses and jaded armor. You stared at them for a moment, but before they could see you, you ran behind one of the poles, trying to focus on getting up to the mast. The ladder was on the other side of the deck, leading you to inch your way around the center portion until you could find the ladder with your eyes.

There were tons of the soldiers across the deck, running around, whispering to one another. They all held massive, sharp spears, the jade and gold glinting under the pale moonlight. It reminded you of Namor, you thought, until you realized it was possible they were his people. As much as you trusted him, you didn’t trust the spears; you weren’t about to risk your life, and even Doctor Mishra’s life, just to reunite with the man from the sea.

You bolted towards the ladder, grabbing the bars and climbing up it with no hesitation. Someone from below shouted something. You didn’t look down, moving at a speed you were sure you had never moved at before, until you reached the top level where the light machine and the red flare device were located. You practically threw yourself onto the bright red button, pressing it over and over again so tens of red flares shot up into the night sky.

Your earbuds were playing Childish Gambino, now, and despite it being one of your favorite songs of all time, you couldn’t find it in you to enjoy it. You kept pressing the button, red flare after red flare firing into the sky. People were shouting from below you, in a language you couldn’t decipher, especially with “Me and Your Mama” blasting into your ears.

You took a brief moment to glance at the deck, peering over the railing. Someone was climbing up the mast, the gold of their armor glinting under the light of the mast. You panicked, unzipped your bag and grabbed your taser. You ran to the other side of the table-like desk in the center of the platform and crouched behind it.

Feet adorned in golden-plated sandals planted onto the platform. You swallowed your breath, holding out your taser for when they rounded the desk. You cursed your earbuds; you were sure they could hear the Childish Gambino blasting from them. When they rounded the corner, you shot up and stuck out the taster onto their stomach, to which they convulsed and stumbled backwards. You pressed the red button a handful more times, but before you could act again, you felt a hand grab you by the neck and heard the cling of a blade being unsheathed.

“Suelta a arma (Drop your weapon),” the person holding you said firmly, to which you shakily dropped your taster. It clattered onto the wooden platform. The soldier let you go, your back towards the ladder, and with the shear pointed right at you, commanded, “Péeksik (Move).”

You couldn’t understand them, but you had enough context clues to understand what the soldier wanted. You caught a long enough glimpse at them to see a strange mask over their mouth and nose, water splashing around inside of it. You wanted to look for longer, but they nudged you with the butt of their spear, so without protest, you climbed down the ladder.

By the time you reached the floor of the deck, you barely had a moment of freedom before the soldier grabbed you again, holding you by the shoulders with their spear at your neck. They spoke to another soldier, the blade of the spear dangerously close to your skin.

One of the soldiers wore a tall, orange-feathered headdress, with the same feathers donned around the necklace she wore that looked like it was made out of something woven. The soldier holding you shoved you forward, hard enough that you stumbled over your feet and almost fell flat on your face. As soon as you were released, the other soldiers circled you, spears pointed.

“Vacíe u póoj (Empty your bag),” she commanded. You blinked, not understand. At your silence, one of the soldiers poked your bag with their spear, nudging it off. You reluctantly shook it off of your shoulders, letting it fall onto the deck. “Je'e le! (Open it!)”

Another soldier poked it with your spear before another nudged you forwards. Lowering to your knees, you grabbed the back and opened the zipper pocket so the contents of your bag was visible. One of the soldiers snatched it from you, turning it upside down and shaking it so everything fell out; your map tumbled to the ground, along with your computer, camera, and journal. Cringing at the sound of your computer and camera dropping onto the deck, you made a move to stand, but the feeling of a spear pressed against the back of your neck kept you down.

The woman in the headdress, who you assumed was in charge, bent down and picked up the map, unrolling it. She ran her finger where you had outlined the hypoxic zone in red pen, the notes near the southern border of the United States, as well as the circle around your sister’s town in Yucatán.

“Talokan ma' u dibujado (Talokan is not drawn),” she said. In broken English, she read the notes and pronounced. “Hi-gh con-cen-tra-ti-on.”

You gulped, watching them interact with one another. The one behind you holding the spear to your neck said, “Ba'ax le kíins wa ma'? (Do we kill her, or not?)”

“Le ajawo' tu ya'alaj ma' u testigos (The king said no witnesses),” another soldier proclaimed. “Kíisa (Kill her).”

“Pa'atik! (Wait!)” one exclaimed, leaning down and grabbing your wrist. “Ilawil u x-oron (Look at her wrist).”

“Lelo' u Talokan (That is from Talokan),” another said, to which gasps and murmurs spun around the circle of soldiers. You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment; the word Talokan was circling your brain. Namor. These were his people. Where was he? Why were they on your ship, killing your team? About to kill you?

“K'aaba' ti' le ajawo' (Call the king),” the woman said, to which one of the soldiers held up a large conch shell. After a beat of silence, the soldier brought it up to their lips and blew through it, a loud clarion call resounding through the air. After the call ended, the woman announced to the soldiers, “Leti' jach le ts'ook viva (She is the last alive).”

“Le ajawo' yéetel complacido (The king will be pleased),” a soldier said.

“Y/N!” came someone's voice from above. Your heart lurched when you saw Doctor Mishra from atop one of the platforms where the radio room was. You internally cursed him for revealing his presence to the soldiers. The soldiers shouted something, and one moved to go after Mishra, but before he could, a figure shot through the air towards where the doctor was.

The figure landed on the platform next to Mishra, who, before he could run away, was struck in the head with the butt of a spear; Mishra fell to the floor, alive, but unconscious. The figure flew up into the air, circled the mast, before soaring towards where you and the soldiers were, landing with a hand on the deck.

The soldiers knelt, joining their hands at the wrists and opening their palms to him. The figure moved, the wings at his angles fluttering as he stood up. Your breath caught in your throat when he set eyes on you, breaking through the circle of soldiers to stand before your kneeling figure.

“You,” was all you could breathe when Namor stared down at you, his spear gripped in his hand. His hair was slicked back with the water of the ocean, his eyes narrowed in one of the deadliest glares you had ever witnessed. A chill went up your spine.

“I gave you that because I trusted you,” Namor poked the bracelet on your wrist with the tip of his spear. Your hands were shaking now, tears pearling at the corners of your eyes. “And here you are... harvesting vibranium. Just as you promised me you would not do.”

“I... you didn’t read my letter?” you stammered out. He was scaring you. There were drops of saltwater on his eyelashes, those ebony eyes of his making you simultaneously melt with adoration and freeze with fear. “I thought... they... they lied to me, they said we were just finding the concentration, I didn’t know they were harvesting it here--”

“You lied to me,” Namor said slowly with composure. His jaw clenched. Something in his eyes changed. “You tricked me.”

“I didn’t,” you were crying now. “I didn’t. I promise, K’uk’ulkan--”

“You do not deserve to call me that,” he gave a dry scoff. He gulped. He wasn’t just angry, you saw; he was upset. Devastated. “You are now an enemy.”

“Look at the map!” you urged him, scrambling to find it. “Look at my notes! I didn’t-- it’s not even near Yucatán, it’s-- it’s just where the concentration was higher, I swear--”

“High Concentration,” the woman from before said, handing the map to Namor. He took it, unrolling it and eyeing the area you had outlined.

“What is this?” Namor asked you, not meeting your eyes. You sniffed, swallowing the frog in your throat.

“It’s-- it’s just where I found the high concentration of vibranium in the first place. I thought we were just supposed to go back to that area, in the northern Gulf, to test the concentration, and that’s what I thought we were researching! That’s what my-- that’s my project. My work.”

“Your project,” Namor repeated.

“Remember?” you practically begged. “Remember how I spent all that time working and you stopped me from getting data? That’s what I was researching! That’s what I’m doing here! I didn’t know that fucking Bernstein and Reynolds were trying to harvest vibranium! I had no idea!”

“How am I supposed to believe you?”

You could barely catch your breath. “I-- I don’t know. My map, my computer, my journal, my goddamn phone, everything’s in there. Take it all, I don’t care. Read everything I’ve ever written, you’ll see!”

Namor bent down and picked up your journal, flipping open to the first page and starting to read. Your knees were starting to hurt from how long you’ve been sitting on them. The silence was deafening, watching him flip through the journal. He read every single word, and you tried to calm your breathing as you watched his face change as he continued to flip.

When he reached the last page, he closed the journal and held it by his side. His glare was gone; he was frowning now, refusing to look at your face. Glancing up at the soldiers, he lifted a hand, to which they lowered their spears away from you and backed up. Namor extended a hand to you as if to help you to your feet. You eyed it hesitantly, but seeing the grimace on his face, you took it and stood.

He didn’t say anything. It was like he couldn’t. He avoided your eyes, and without a word, he turned around towards the railing, resting his forearms on it with a sigh. You were still shaking, but as your fear subsided, you felt the anger bubbling up in your stomach. A drop of blood fell from your nose, touching your top lip.

“You killed everyone,” you muttered, wiping the blood off of your lip. He turned his head and said nothing. “Your people almost killed me.”

“I will do anything for my people,” he told you carefully. His voice was wavering. “If they are threatened, I do not care what it takes. I will protect them.”

You weren’t sure what to say. You walked up beside him, resting your arms on the railing, too. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his chest rising and falling with a quick cadence, and despite not being able to hear his fast breathing, you could see he was becoming flustered.

“I pray you can find it in you to understand my motives,” he continued. You, again, said nothing. You could barely form words, your mouth dry. There was something warm on the back of your neck; you brought your hand up to touch it, only to find fresh blood on the pads of your fingers. The spears had cut you. Namor glanced over at your bloodied hand, brows twitching. He reached towards you, “Allow me to--”

You flinched back. You couldn’t look at him. He dropped his hands and bowed his head, staring at the waters below. They were calm, now, the sharks and dolphins no longer splashing about. That whale you had seen had gone, too. You willed your rapid beating heart to cease, wishing your chest would stop twisting and turning.

“I get it,” you murmured, using the collar of your shirt to wipe the last bit of blood from your nose. Namor’s head twitched up, eyes on you in less than a second. “Gotta protect your people, just like you were when you wouldn’t let me take those samples. But this... this is... what I saw...”

“If I had known you weren’t apart of it, I would never have let--”

“I wish you had trusted me,” you sniffled, finally looking at him. His ebony eyes were wider than you had ever seen them, brown brows tilted upwards in a form of desperation you would have never picture them having. He was beautiful. “My letter, I thought... I thought I explained it.”

“You did,” Now that Namor had caught your eyes, he didn’t dare look away in fear of losing them again. “You did, I... jumped to conclusions.”

“You jumped to conclusions,” you repeated, breaking the eye contact. You clenched your jaw. “So you killed my entire team.”

Namor’s mouth opened and closed like a fish for a second, unable to find proper words. “You have to understand where I’m coming from, here. These ships harvesting our vibranium-- Talokan’s vibranium-- would put us at risk. It could lead to the end of my people.”

“I know,” you sighed, closing your eyes and putting your head on your hands where they rested against the railing. The ocean’s breeze struck at your forehead, cooling your skin and blowing your hair off your face. Namor didn’t say anything, but you could feel him looming closer. You hid your face from him.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice so soft you almost didn’t hear him over the breeze. “Please look at me.”

After a prolonged second, you lifted your head from your arms, the breeze chilling the tears that had rolled down your cheeks. You couldn’t meet his eyes. You couldn’t bear it.

“Take me home,” you said quietly. He blinked. “Please.”

“To... to Yucatán?” he inquired, a layer of hope underneath his words.

“No,” something was twisting in your chest. “To Miami.”

“...right now?”

“Yes.”

Namor didn’t move, just staring at you with those puppy dog eyes that made you want to wrap your arms around him and pull him into you.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “Please, Y/N, we have to--”

“Yes, I am sure,” you said pointedly, despite the wobbling of your voice. “It’s not like there’s anything for me to do here, anyways. Everyone’s dead.”

Namor raised an arm, and the female Talokanil soldier from earlier came to his side. He muttered something to her in his native language; you hadn’t bothered to listen, for one because you didn’t speak a word, but for two because for some reason, hearing his voice was making it difficult to hold your ground.

“Come,” he said to you, holding his hand out. You glanced over at him; he began to rise from the ground, wings on his ankles keeping him suspended in the air. You glanced at his hand. “Do you trust me?”

You felt your lower lip tremble.

“I don’t know,” you said, grabbing his hand anyways. He frowned, his eyes more glassy than ever. You wondered if he would cry. He pulled you up, gently wrapping an arm around your waist and holding you tight on his side, his other arm holding his spear.

In a flash, you were soaring towards the horizon, the cold, salty air whipping you in the face as he flew. His skin was cold against yours, and despite your anger, you pushed yourself against him, wondering when the next time you’d feel him would be.

The gold of his jewelry pressed against your skin, and you stared at the way in glinted under the pale moonlight. You stared at him, the jade in his septum, the point of his ears, the bronze of his skin. There were tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, prevented from rolling down his face and simply flying away from the force of the wind.

You hadn’t realized how quickly you were flying. The shore was near, you could see the lights of the city as you approached it. You slowed, your hair relaxing from the absence of the harsh wind. Scrunching your nose to get some feeling back in it, your feet skimmed the top layer of the ocean as he brought you to the sand and let you go.

You dusted your self off, fixing your head and allowing yourself to adjust to being back on the ground. You had gotten dizzy from the flight, but came to it in less than a minute. You glanced at where his hand still held his spear. When he saw you look at it, he lowered it without hesitation. You finally laid eyes on Namor. The tears from earlier had fallen onto his cheek.

“Do you fear me?” he asked.

“I fear what you’re capable of,” you muttered. “Because I don’t think you’ll ever trust me.”

“I trust you,” he breathed. You frowned. “I trust you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do,” he insisted, falling to his knees in front of you. His ebony hair was partially covering his eyes, but the wind suddenly pushed it back so you could see his face. Your eyes widened, gaze lowering to where he sat. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I trust you. Fully.”

You could barely believe the sight before you; Namor, on his knees. You were cruel, you thought. You were still crying.

“I just need some time,” you said, feeling your heart change at the sight of him. His eyes kept flickered around your face, to one eye, to your nose, to your lips, to the other eye, back to your lips. “Okay?”

“Time?” he repeated, nodding, knees digging into the sand, wings on his ankles fluttering a bit. “Yes, that’s-- as much time as you want.”

“Okay,” you sighed. Namor slowly rose to his feet, reminding you of the way he towered over you. He didn’t let his eyes leave yours, as if he were trying to tell you something tacitly. He looked at your lips.

He lifted his hands towards your face, and when you didn’t flinch away, he cupped both of your cheeks with his palms. You closed your eyes, heart thumping.

“Whenever you are ready,” he began, his thumb rubbing over your cheekbone. “I’ll be here. All right?”

“Mm-hm,” you said, letting yourself look at him. He nodded, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Good-bye,” he said. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your hairline so tenderly you thought you might start sobbing right then and there. Before you could say anything more, he soared up into the air, flying away and disappearing into the midnight sky. You wiped at your cheeks, ridding the tears, and with a sigh, you turned around and made for your apartment.

---

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