#that same person yelling at the sky
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briteboy · 2 years ago
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me: starts a new ts3 save
the save:
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capricioussun · 10 months ago
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don't feel bad about self reblogs, it's always awesome to see your art on my dash and I'm sure I'm not alone with this!
Awe, that's very sweet of you to say!
Tbth i have a really strange relationship with posting online – on one hand, I love just posting whatever and really really enjoy interacting with others, but on the other hand, I'm not sure if it's RSD or what, but i experience like. Social recoil? Where i tend to immediately regret and/or worry over the perception of stuff i post (way more than would be considered normal), especially with posts or reblogs that hardly really garner any interaction at all.
I know it's normal for artists of all kinds to be disheartened by things like that, and I don't necessarily create for others, but that is why i post it online- i mean...why else would you? I see that a lot, people feeling poorly about low interaction, and others trying to encourage them by telling them to make art for themselves and to not worry about it, but that's always come across a little odd to me. No, you probably shouldn't be doing something if you're only doing it for attention, but isn't interaction the point of sharing the things you make online?
Especially so in the case of people who really want to make a living being an artist in their chosen "field". To some degree, you do have to treat it like a business. You do have to sell yourself and try to "grow your audience" if you have any chance of making any sort of income at all, just like any self employment type of job. It feels condescending to see others tell artists who get frustrated with social media constantly doing things to make it harder to have any reach at all that they should care less about the algorithm or numbers when a lot of these people don't have a choice. It feels like hardly a day goes by I don't see posts on twitter or tumblr of someone taking emergency commissions just to cover rent or food for a few days.
Got a bit off topic there, but i sort of rest in a very strange place with my art in that, skill level wise, I'm very much an amateur, but due to Life Issues I won't get into, I can't hold a "normal" job, and I've been constantly kind of battling myself for a couple years now on how to approach trying to make Doing Art Online my career.
I need to put in the work to improve my art so i can not just post more frequently but hopefully get more commission work (which i would honestly also enjoy, I love making things for others, it's one of my favorite things about being able to post online), but i also want to improve my skill level so i can make the things I want to as well (I'm also unfortunately plagued by the Kind Of Wants To Do Everything desires and also want to make plush, music, 3D and live 2D models, and I'd love to get into streaming proper at some point).
So aaallllll of this to say, self reblogging is a big thing for artists on tumblr these days, esp as i see more and more talk about how low interactions gotten on here in the past few years, it's rough! But i also feel like im not...skilled(?) enough to do Proper Online Artist things. I guess. Which is dumb but ah I do not control the chokehold whichever mental issue has on me
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lilislegacy · 9 months ago
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imagine being someone at new rome university and not knowing percy is the same guy as “percy jackson, son of poseidon, two-time hero of olympus, former praetor” because the thought doesn’t even cross your mind. like… he’s percy. he’s a total frat boy. on a normal night, he walks into a party, refers to everyone as bro or dude, socializes with every living (and not-living) person in the room, makes at least 50 sarcastic comments, plays 12 rounds of beer pong, drinks way too much, and then skates around campus on his skateboard yelling “I LOVE NEW YORK” (which makes no sense, because they’re in california) until someone calls his girlfriend to come get him.
and then one day there’s an attack, and frat boy percy is all of a sudden a fighting machine. he’s yelling battle cries alongside the praetors frank zhang and hazel levesque as they lead everyone into battle. (why is he with the praetors? and why…. why in the world do the praetors seem to be following his lead?) his sword slashes through armies of monsters faster than you’ve ever seen. he’s controlling the entire river surrounding the camp, creating huge waves as tall as skyscrapers that crash down all around him, wiping out monsters and causing mass destruction to his enemies’ ranks. the sky is suddenly dark above you, ice-cold water droplets are slashing through the air, and the wind is blowing so aggressively that it’s making it hard to stand up steadily. because he’s somehow created a hurricane.
and he looks terrifying. you can feel the power radiating off of him. he’s like a god. or maybe a monster. it’s hard to tell. you’re a little scared of him, to be honest. but also in total awe, because it’s extraordinary. he’s extraordinary.
frat boy percy is not who you thought he was.
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armxnh · 1 year ago
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i know we just met, but i love you
synopsis: love at first sight with the tokyo revengers men.
characters: manjiro 'mikey' sano, takashi mitsuya, chifuyu matsuno
genre: fluff
warnings: none (i think...?)
masterlist.
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manjiro 'mikey' sano
"ken-chinnnn" the leader of the toman whined at his taller friend. draken rolled his eyes in response, "no mikey, drop it."
"come onnnn-" the said man pouted exaggeratedly, "what did i do wrong?"
"nothing." the delinquent replied taking his wallet out of the pocket of his jacket, "you just don't need to eat twenty-five taiyaki."
"sorry to bother you but there are a lot of people who are waiting take their orders so if you could-" daiki, as it was written on his name tag, tried to cut them off from behind the counter.
for the past ten minutes, the two delinquents were arguing about their order. draken wanted to buy mikey five taiyaki, while mikey wanted his friend to buy him twenty-five of them.
draken turned his head to the cashier, "yeah, so five taiyaki and-"
"twenty-five taiyaki." "damn you-"
"hurry up! unlike other people, some of us have important things to do!" a customer yelled from the back of the line.
manjiro snapped his head to the back of the line, narrowing his eyes at the older man who had just yelled at him. "see now you're making people angry, mikey. 'm not gonna spend ¥5,272 on snacks."
"i need to eat a lot if i want to be taller!"
"for the last time. you won't get taller! you are at your maximum height!"
"alright! i'm not going through this again." a soft voice cut both of them before they could start the same argument they had 2 minutes ago. "daiki, i'll pay for their order- just make his goddamn snacks, please."
when manjiro turned to look at the person who 'saved his life', he felt like he has just died and miraculously came back to life as he made eye contact with you.
you were... pretty.
his eyes were set on you, taking in every single detail he could as if he was scared to forget how you look the second he'll look away.
"thank you, but that's not necessary!" draken politely thanked you as you grabbed your fidelity card of the small shop.
"don't worry about it! after all, those fidelity points have to be used for something." you waved him off, looking back at daiki, "could you also add my regular oder with that, please daiki?"
"o-of course, (y/n)!" the young worker quickly tapped your oder in the computer, a red hue covering his cheeks when you smiled at him.
"mikey, what do you say?" draken looked at his friend, hinting him to thank you, but his words fell into deaf ears as mikey kept looking at you like you hung the moon and stars in the sky.
"mikey?" He nudged the said man's shoulder trying to snap him out of his thoughts, only to be ignored once more.
the tall blond dropped the smile as he turned to his friend hitting the side of his head, finally snapping him out of his thoughts, "mikey!"
"um? what?" mikey barely glanced at draken when he responded, his heartbeat increasing when you looked back at him with your receipt in hand.
"i said, what do you say to the girl who just bought you your snacks?" he replied, glancing between the two of you clearly wondering why his friend was acting weird all of the sudden.
"marry me."
ken ryuguji never whipped his head to look at his friend so fast in his life. What the hell did he just said?!
you felt your face warm up at his words, chuckling as you walk past him, placing your hand on his shoulder, "do you ask every girl who buys you snacks to marry you?"
manjiro felt like he was in heaven when you stood closer to him. how can someone be so pretty and be so nice and smell so good and be so pretty at the same time.
"what?" toman's leader came back down to earth when you handed him the box filled of taiyaki. "did i say that out loud?" manjiro mumbled, frowning to himself. before looking back at you, just to see you making your way outside. "hey- wait!"
he tossed the snacks at draken jogging to meet you outside of the shop. "w-wait!"
you turned to look at him, the soft summer breeze sweating through your hair, leaving your face completely out in the open, "yes?"
"you're (y/n), right?" he asked remembering how the cashier called you when you were ordering, "i'm mikey..." he wanted to say something else but the words got caught in his throat when you smiled at him.
"nice to meet you, mikey" you replied before your eyes drifted behind him to the small group of guys that were looking at the two of you intensely, the 'ken-chin' guy from earlier standing with them. "i think your friends are waiting for you"
manjiro glanced back to see his best friends looking at them with knowing looks on their faces, "never mind them- this is- you are more important."
you looked away from him, his intense eye contact making your face feel warm, "you really know how to talk to girls you know?"
"thank you for earlier... the snacks and all..."
"that was 2 months worth of fidelity points- you better eat every single one of those taiyaki" you playfully warned the gang leader.
"don't worry about that..!" mikey replied knowing damn well that he will inhale those snacks. "can i walk you home? it's going to get dark soon- wouldn't want my wife to get attacked or something!"
wife?!
you suppress a smile at his words, "of course, wouldn't want it to get dark at 2 pm, and then get attacked by who knows what next to a bakery."
"exactly! let's go, wifey!"
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takashi mitsuya
"what did you say you're brother's name was?" you asked the crying girl in front of you.
"...t- taka-shi" the small girl sobbed in your shoulder as you gently patted her head.
"alright and what's your name?" you gently asked as you scanned the area trying to find someone who looked like they had just lost their child.
"i- i- i'm mana"
"you have a really pretty name, you know?" you smiled fondly at the girl as you whipped the tears of her face with your thumbs.
"really?"
"heck yeah! it's a badass name!" you felt relief wash over you when you saw a smile spread across the kid's face, "i'm (y/n) and i'm gonna help you find your brother alright?"
"thank you..." she mumbled quietly.
"you're going to hop on my shoulders and tell me when you see your brother okay?" the girl looked up at you with stars in her eyes, you pulled mana on your shoulder, her small hands on your head.
you walked for a good 15 minutes before mana tapped your head with on hand while the other pointed toward an unknown man in the crowd of person, "they're there! that's draken!"
draken? wasn't her brother's name takashi? you wondered as you put mana to the ground your hand grabbing hers just in case she got lost again.
"mana!" a little girl's voice called out as you arrived next to the very tall guy with a dragon tattoo on his head. the small girl that looked very similar to mana hugged tightly the younger girl.
"mitsuya! ' found her" the tall guy called out for someone else behind him. the 'mitsuya' guy appeared from behind the 'draken' guy not long after he called out from him. the purple haired teen practically attacked his sister with a hug, sighing in relief.
"don't ever do that again, mana." he gently scaled his younger sister, "you could've gotten lost and we would've been really sad, al-?"
"it's fine! (y/n) helped me find you!" she pointed her finger at her. mitsuya ruffled his sister's hair, before straightening up to thank the person that help his mini-him, "thank you so mu..."
he felt like the world had stopped moving. like it was only the two of them in the middle of the festival. takashi mitsuya was in a trance. he was simply mesmerized by the sight of you.
"it's no problem, really! " you softly smiled at him, "your sister is a real angel-"
anything else you said after wasn't even registered but the delinquent in front of you. he was usually so good at this- talking to people was what he did best so... why couldn't he utter a single word for you.
his cheeks were red, his palm were sweaty, why was he anxious?- he was hanging on everything you did. even if he felt like he had forgotten how to speak, your voice felt like melody to his ears.
he snapped out of his trance when someone nudge his shoulder. mitsuya glanced at draken beside him, suddenly remembering that they weren't alone and that you were talking to him.
you looked at him with a puzzled look, "are you alright?
your question made him overthink about everything that happened in the last 2 minutes of your meeting. Did he look like a creep?
"i- i- great."
the hell was that takashi? he cursed himself.
darken cleared his throat, holding back his laugh. he brought his fist to his mouth faking coughs as he muttered a small, "real smooth, mitsuya".
you chuckled at his friend's comment, making mitsuya straighten up, you pulled out your hand for him to shake.
"let's start over, alright? i'm (y/n)... you're takashi right?"
draken stepped up clearly expecting his friend to be to lost in space to answer you, "he prefers mitsuya-"
"takashi's fine!" the said man interjected, as he quickly grabbed your hand to shake it, sending one of his pretty smile in your direction.
"i-"
"are you going to marry my brother?" he couldn't catch a break could he? luna asked you with big eyes.
you chuckled softly at her words, "how about this... i will give my number to your brother. then we'll go out to eat something to talk about marriage alright?"
"yes!" the girl tightly hugged your leg as you said that.
"does that sound like a plan to you, takashi?" yes!
mitsuya hurriedly started to look in his pocket for a pen, when draken pulled one out of his pocket with a piece of paper and handed it to the purple haired boy, "there you go, casanova"
takashi handed you the paper and the pen, before you wrote your name with your phone number on it.
"see y'a soon, taka! bye, mana don't get lost again alright?"
as soon as you were out of sight takashi turned to draken with a stern look, "not a word about this, alright?"
"you're crazy!" draken crackled putting his hand in his pocket, "i'm going to tell everyone!"
"draken!"
"as your wingman i feel like it's my responsibility-"
"no it is not!"
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chifuyu matsuno
"hurry up, chifuyu!" takemichi yelled at his friend. they couldn't be late. not for that.
"how come you are slow as hell during a fight, yet you sprint your life on a sunday at 8 am?" the blond joked as he calmly walked behind takemichi with not a care in the world.
"come on! we're gonna be late!" he repeated hurriedly before stopping abruptly while looking around him.
"late to what?" chifuyu yawned, before looking at his friend, who stood there looking around, up and down as if his brain had finally snapped, "you alright?"
"alright stand here and don't move." takemichi moved the delinquent around so that he would stand in the middle of a park- an empty park.
"did you finally snapped or...?" he asked when the time traveler started to back away from him, "are you going to kill me? is this really how it's gonna end-"
"watch out!"
a voice yelled, but it was too late.
a ball directly hit his face, knocking chifuyu to the dirty ground, his eyes closing due to the shock.
it took him a couple of seconds before finally opening his eyes again, only to realize that he was in heaven. the prettiest girl he had ever seen in his life held his head in her hands, her index and middle finger pressed against the front of his neck just below his jaw- making sure that his heart was still beating.
"oh- thank god! you're not dead!"
"are you an angel?" chifuyu mumbled placing his hand on top of yours- making sure you were real, "am i in heaven?"
you let a breathy chuckle at his words, "you're cute- but no you're not dead... i kicked a ball in your face- unintentionally of course!"
his eyes finally focused on you, remembering what had happened. he blinked a couple of time, his eyes scanning your face- a pretty girl's face... so close to his face with her hands on his face and his hands on her hand-
what?!
chifuyu's face became as red a tomato straitening his posture to apologize for touching you without your authorization, "i'm so sorry-"
his head came in contact with your head, making you pull back immediately from the blond. "ow! i told you i didn't do it on purpose!" you groan holding your head with your hands.
chifuyu gasped in horror at his own clumsiness as he placed a hand on the back of your head. hopping that the coldness of it would help you a little, "i'm sorry! i swear i didn't mean it! please hit me again so that we're even!"
...what? now why would he say that?
"what? what's wrong with you?! do you get turn on by getting hit or something?!"
chifuyu panically looked around to search takemichi so that he could help him. when he finally spotted him, hiding behind the swings, the time traveler was smiling proudly with his two thumbs up in the air.
his action making him recall a conversation the two of them had a couple of weeks earlier.
"so... am i married in the future?" chifuyu asked takemichi as he bit down the sandwich he made himself for lunch.
takemichi raised his brows at the question, "yeah-"
"really?!" the blond gasped, with heart in his eyes, "do i know her?! no wait- that'll ruin the surprise- is she pretty?! no wait- of course she's pretty you idiot!"
the time traveler chuckled at his friend's words, rubbing the back of his neck, "do you want me to tell you how you met?"
"no! it has to be a surprise!" chifuyu refused, "wait am i going to meet her soon? is that why you said that?! takemichi?! answer!"
"nah- like you said it has to be a surprise~"
"takemichi!"
"if it makes you feel better- you embarrassed yourself in front of her"
"how would that make me feel better?!"
that sneaky bastard.
"i'm sorry! i don't know how to talk to pretty girls..." chifuyu mumbled looking to the ground, but his face snapped back at you when he realize what he had just say, your eyes round at his words, "i- i mean not that don't know how to talk you! wait- not that you're not pretty! you are pretty- beautiful even! but that is not the point! i don't need you to hit me! just please don't think i hurt you on purpose- i don't hit pretty girls! no wait- i don't hit girls at all! but you being beautifully-pretty is just a plus you know! an-"
you smacked your hand on his mouth, stopping his rambling, the butterflies in your stomach flying way to much due to his words. "please stop-! you're too cute..."
takemichi titled his head at the scene in front of him, clearly not remembering that part of the story your older self told him in the future about how chifuyu and her had met-
but... mission failed successfully... i guess?
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ⓒarmxnh
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8mitsurikanroji8 · 1 year ago
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𝒦𝓃𝓎 𝒞𝓇𝓊𝓈𝒽 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈
ɪɴꜰᴏ : ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɴʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼
𝘛𝘢𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘳𝘰. 𝘡𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘶. 𝘐𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘶𝘬𝘦. 𝘔𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘰 . 𝘚𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪 . 𝘖𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘪 . 𝘎𝘪𝘺𝘶 . 𝘒𝘺𝘰𝘫𝘶𝘳𝘰 . 𝘔𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘪. 𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘣𝘶.
────────────────────────
𝐓𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 ⋆˙⟡♡
. Not obvious at all ?
. He’s a sweatheart to everyone he meets ahem Tanjiro effect?
. Blushes whenever you get close ><
. Would offer moments with you
. “Y/n want to eat together ?” “Y/n want to train together?” “Y/n want to take a stroll” etc
. You think nothing of it but for him his heart beats fast and is comforted by these actions
. Doesn’t realize he has a crush on you
. Just thinks you have an amazing personality that draws him in
. It’s just that, right ?
. He finally gets the hint when you guys were alone on a stroll catching the sunset. He caught himself staring at you while smiling as you stood and watched the sun fall, painting the sky orange
. His face goes RED when he realizes ><
. He turns away trying to calm himself down
. You notice, concerned, you take your hand and put it on his face thinking he has a fever
. Faces is literally fire
. Other than that you don’t really realize his feelings for you as he seems to be the same. Only asking for more time with you and more blushing but your mind waves it off
. Little do you know he stares at you while your mind is adrift thinking
. His heart beats fast and his eyes soften
. Yep. He likes you.
𝐙𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮 ⋆˙⟡♡
. Now this one you KNOW [ Sorta ]
. I mean he ask you to marry him only 2 minutes in meeting for the first time
. “YOURE THE PRETTIEST GIRL I HAVE EVER MET. PLEASE MARRY ME!”
. You are dumbfounded with his open admiration
. A little flatter? Yes. Caught off guard ? 100%
. Soon within getting to know him you learn of his lovely dovey personality
. Realizing he is like this with every girl you push aside his comments of marriage and admiration
. I mean he would say that to any one, right ?
. Wrong [ also right tho >< ]
. He would say this to almost every girl he’s met
. But after you ? Oh honey
. You don’t realize how he’s actually fallen for you. Deeply
. Follows you around like a duck
. Someone criticize you [ Even if it’s just critiquing so you know what to work on ]
. That person will not hear the end of it
. “Y/N IS THE BEST PERSON EVER AND IS THE GREATEST DEMON SLAYER SO YOU SHUT UP!”
. Cringey ? Mhm. Cute ? A little.
. If you use sweet words to him [ You mostly say them to everyone tho ] like “honey” “sweetie” “cutie” “sweetheart”
. What color do you want your wedding bouquet?
. He’s planning it all
𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞 ⋆˙⟡♡
. You don’t know and neither does he ._.
.”FIGHT ME RIGHT NOW. LETS SEE WHO WINS!”
. That’s something you will never hear the end of
. He has no idea about what a crush is nor love
. He just thinks you’re a good fighter and wants to fight you whenever he can
. And you just think he’s being his normal weird self :)
. You don’t mind it [ usually ]
. He likes to eat with you
. If you both are heading to a mission and forget to pack yourself food
. He will eat his infront of you and say
. “HAHA IDIOT”
. You roll your eyes ignoring him
. Suddenly his food is being shoved down your throat no comment added
. You better not ask about it
. Your ears won’t be able to handle anymore of his yelling blabber
. But you take his action to heart and enjoy it
. His face is a bit pink
. BUT only because his boar head is warm, right ?
. Sureeee ._.
𝐌𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨 ⋆˙⟡♡
. Who are you again ?
. Oh right. The one who gives him the hebegebees
. Jkjkjk
. well
. He’s too lost in the clouds to realize his feelings for you or even realize you’re the only one who’s company doesn’t annoy him or pushes away
. And you don’t realize because his vocabulary is just so grand
. “Mhm” “No” “Yes “I believe so” “What did you say?” “I assume” “Could be” “I have no opinion”
. You tag along him to the point where others know
. “Oh there’s Muichiro. Y/n must be near”
. And vice versa
. He doesn’t realize how close together you guys alway are
. When you’re away on a mission he finds himself with a unfamiliar feelings
. Oh you’re back! Never mind the feeling is gone nothing to worry about !
. You just like his character and enjoy spending time with him
. He won’t realize but he thinks the same
. And more ><
. Both of these are unaware to you and him
𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢 ⋆˙⟡♡
. Oh boy
. You may be strong both physically and mentally
. You’re enduring both his need to constantly train and his vicious tongue
. You most likely match his adittuide
. Oh he’s got something to say? So do you
. Everyone believes he HATES you
. I mean he does insult you and always wants to fight
. Poor guy doesn’t know what it is he’s feeling
. He didn’t really see romantic love in his childhood
. So he just stuffs those fast heart beat, pink cheeks and fuzzy feeling deep down and try’s to ignore it
. He doesn’t realize but one of the reason he always want to spear with you is because you guys spend close time together
. Also because he’s Sanemi
. And you being you, you don’t mind and take it as another challenge to conquer
𝐎𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐢 ⋆˙⟡♡
. You talk and he doesn’t
. Perfect match <3
. Here goes another damage one !
. His love language is definitely quality time
. You’re eating ? Under [ or up ] a tree? Simply walking around the garden ?
. Oh look there he is too!
. He definitely catches on to his physical and emotional reactions to you
. And you just thinks you guys are the closets of friends !
. You guys always seem to travel together
. Even in your free time you are found with him strolling around a village together
. Some one insults you?
. You’ll just ignore it and move on
. He doesn’t. Pray for that person.
. Kaburamaru seems to have also found a fondness for you
. He may be jealous of that fact
𝐆𝐢𝐲𝐮 ⋆˙⟡♡
. You don’t know what the others are talking about
. Giyu is lovely to talk to !
. He may be one of your favorite hasira to spend time with ♡
. He’s gentle and kind spoken [ with his little use of words ]
. He pays for your meals no matter how hard you insist and listen to you ramble for hours on end with no sign of annoyence
. Why would the others hate him?
. He’s like this with everyone, right ?
. Oh honey.
. You take these actions as part of his character, while he assume he act this way because of his admiration for you being so nice to him !
. I mean you are one of the few who do talk to him without insult
. It never clicks for him what the feeling really is
. That’s until one day
. [ Shinobu ] “Good evening Tomioka”
. [ Giyu ] “Evening Shinobu”
. [ Shinobu ] “You look as bland and boring as ever. How are you”
. [ Giyu ] *no answer*
. [ Shinobu ] “I must say without your little friend you somehow appear more dull. It is odd to catch a moment with you two apart”
. [ Giyu ] *nothing*
. [ Shinobu ] *Giggles* “It’s almost like you two are in a romantic relationship with how close you are.”
. His heart stops with that comment
. And his brain finally realize the feeling
. I mean he’s never felt this way before ♡
. His eyes trail off and soften, catching Shinobu attention
. [ Shinobu ] *Giggles* “ I was only just kidding. It’s not like someone like Y/n could admire your dull personality”
. Oh. Right.
𝐊𝐲𝐨𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐨 ⋆˙⟡♡
. “YOU ARE ONE SKILLED SLAYER” “I ADMIRE YOUR TECHNIQUES” “GREAT JOB” “YOU HAVE INCREDIBLE SKILLS” “WONDERFUL WORK”
. He praises you non stop
. I mean who wouldn’t with your talent !
. You take his compliments as a part of his cheerful personality and respect it
. And maybe take a bit of flattery with it ><
. He does too
. He just admires you skill is all
…….
. He offers to dine with you or take you out to eat
. “Y/N WOULD YOU LIKE TO SPEND TIME AND DINE WITH ME!?”
. [ You ] “Oh um, sure okay!”
. “SPLENDID, LETS GET ON OUR WAY!”
. He always ask where you are
. Remembers the small things
. You like that color ? Oh look he just bought you a keychain with it. That’s your favorite food? Guess that’s where you guys are eating tonight
. His acts of romantic feelings fly over both of your guys head
. But not to anybody else
. *Kyojuro and you side by side laughing together*
. [ Slayer 1 ] “Are they together?”
. [ Slayer 2 ] “isn’t it obvious ?”
𝐌𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐢 ⋆˙⟡♡
. You guys are actually inspectable
. Always together <3
. She loves your company !
. Mitsuri finds everything about you adorable
. From they way you eat to your fighting techniques
. You make her feel safe ♡
. More touchy with you than others [ expect hugs, face pokes and hand holding when she’s around ]
. She definitely realizes her feelings for you
. She is the love hashira after all
. But she doesn’t act on it afraid you won’t feel the same and forever ruin the relationship you guys already have
. She’s oblivious to the shared love you have for one another
. *Mitsuri thoughts* Oh they just see me as a friend
. Mhm okay ._.
𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐮 ⋆˙⟡♡
. This one is a slow burn
. Every mission with you she seems to oddly enjoy
. Whenever you walk into her estate she feels a warmth
. Her heart flutters whenever you hug her or compliment her
. Your smile makes her smile
. She always watches you [ not in a creepy way >< ]
. She just finds herself drunk on the way your eyes light up
. Once it hits her why she feel this way poor girl try’s to ignore it
. Afraid to allow herself to get too close in this field of work
. But the heart wants what is wants ♡
. You begin to dine after missions together
. Have light conversation when running into each other
. And occasionally meet ups outside of work
. She compliments you often
. Once you start to spend more time together she will accidentally graze her hand over you thigh or your fingers just to see you reaction
. This girl knows what she’s doing
────────────────────────
A/n
ᴀʜʜ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰɪɴɪꜱʜᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ ! ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ !! ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ꜰʀᴇᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱʜᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴘɪɴɪᴏɴ. ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇꜱꜱᴀɢᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ <3 ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴄᴀʀᴇ 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
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kayesfanfics · 7 months ago
Note
Hi can I request a femreader/ nightcrawler story where the reader is shy and anxious, while Kurt misunderstands this as her thinking he’s a monster?
But in truth she’s been trying to confess her feelings to him but she always backs out last minute in fear?
Thank you!
A/N: The way I’ve probably imagined this scenario at 12 years old laying in bed at night. I also made the reader friends with Rogue, Jean and Ororo since she’s closer to their ages
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“Sugah, yer lookin’ more nervous than a long-tailed pussy cat in a room full o’ rockin’ chairs!” Rogue tapped your shoulder as she walked into the lounging area, where you were having morning coffee with Jean and Ororo. “What’s gotcha all riled up, huh?”
“Kurt’s playing basketball with the others outside...in shorts.” Jean quipped before taking a sip of coffee, a playful grin on her face. Ororo chuckled at the embarrassed face you made, as if someone just walked in on you changing.
“Jean!” You whined, face turning redder when Rogue started laughing.
“Oh, Y/N! We’re just teasing!” Jean giggled as you pouted at all of them finding your embarrassment amusing.
“I just don’t see why you haven’t told him about her feelings yet!”
They all knew you’ve had the biggest crush on the fuzzy blue X-Man, Nightcrawler, ever since he joined the team a few months ago. He was always so nice to everyone, including you, and he seemed to always say the right thing at the right time. He even made your morning coffee sometimes when you got up late, knowing everyone’s coffee order by heart by now.
The boys were outside playing basketball with Jubilee and Roberto, showing the younger ones how it was done. You watched out the window at the court, seeing Gambit and Wolverine battling for the ball before Kurt teleported between them and snatched the ball from them, tossing it into the basket and laughing when they both started yelling about the “no powers” rule. You smiled before realizing you were staring, clearing your throat and turning to Rogue.
“You know I get too nervous around your brother, I can’t even ask him to pass the salt at dinner!”
“Yer always nervous, that’s fine! But y’know, he totally likes you too. I can tell.”
“No he doesn’t.” You shook your head in denial.
“Yes he does.” All three women said at the same time, side eyeing you or rolling their eyes.
“My dear, Kurt is a very charismatic man, but he goes out of his way to make you smile every chance he gets.” Ororo set her hand atop of yours. “I even see a flash of disappointment when you flee from his advances.”
“Really?” You asked, feeling a bit guilty about making him feel bad. You were a generally nervous person, but your anxiety sky rocketed around him, your heart always felt like it would explode out of your chest when he got close to you or touched you. It was difficult to hold eye contact with him, your nerves getting the best of you and looking down at the floor while you spoke to him. You’d give him a scared smile when he handed you things, your blood running cold when his hand brushed up against yours during those exchanges. You often found your eyes wandering to him when he wasn’t focused on you, it was easier to look at him when you knew he wasn’t aware of you checking him out. You loved the way his tail squashed playfully as he joked around with Morph, how his ear would twitch like a cats when he heard someone new enter the room, how his fangs gleamed when he smiled or how his bright yellow eyes sparked with mischief during a fight.
“Okay…you know what? Todays the day, today I need to confess to him! If I don’t today, I never will cause I’m a baby and will back out.” You stood up confidently.
“Yeah! Go get em, tiger!” Rogue cheered as you walked away, then lowered her voice. “She ain’t gonna.”
“I think Y/N can do things she sets her mind to.” Storm defended you.
“Wanna put ten bucks on it?” Rogue raised an eyebrow and cheekily grinned.
“…you’re on.” Storm nodded, shaking her hand as Jean spoke up, saying she’d bet alongside Storm that you could do it.
“You know I can still hear you all?” You crossed your arms from the window, getting a closer look and watching Kurt dodge Roberto’s lunge. Your friends all laughed as you shook your head, trying to get ahold of your nerves.
How were you supposed to tell the most handsome, heroic, sweetest, most amazing person ever you were in love with them? Kurt was genuinely the kindest person you’d ever met, giving you butterflies when you watched him comfort a mutant child during a fight, or how he helped his teammates so gently when they were injured. You couldn’t fathom how people were afraid or disgusted by him, he was the most gorgeous man in the world. How you could see a tinge of indigo under his blue fur when he blushed or bruised, how sculpted and chiseled he was yet also was so soft to look at. When he wore sweatpants and a tank top after training one day, you swore you would have a heart attack right then and there seeing how attractive he looked in the outfit. You adored sneaking peeks of him working out alone, his muscles bulging when he did push ups or pull ups on a bar, how flexible and agile he was and how effortless he made it look. You’d stand outside the door until you felt you would get caught staring, not wanting to seem like a creep.
You were suddenly pulled out of your thoughts when the door opened, Wolverine carrying Jubilee, pretending to be limp and passed out in his arms.
“What happened?” Jean asked as the girls all stood up from their little coffee and gossip session.
“She tripped and scraped her knee trying to get the ball from Logan!” Morph snickered as they all filed inside.
“I’ve been attacked! He pushed me and now I’m severely wounded!” Jubilee whined dramatically as Logan set her down on the counter. You waited for Kurt while you listened to Jubilee and Wolverine bicker about the seriousness of her cut knee, feeling your heart skip a beat when he finally walked in, chatting with Hank.
“Um…hey, Kurt?” You spoke quietly, but Kurt’s ear twitched and picked up your shy voice.
“Yes, Miss Y/N?” He asked, stopping and letting Hank go ahead of him.
“I…um…could you find a first aid kit, please?”
You blushed when you heard your friends laugh behind you and Storm and Jean handed Rogue money, knowing Kurt was looking past you at them, wondering what they were doing. You felt like a dork backing out of confessing and asking him to do something you could easily do, but you changed your mind at the last second that you weren’t ready yet.
“Sure.” He smiled, before bamfing off. You turned and glared at your friends, before walking walked over to Jubilee, seeing blood dripping down her shin and gravel from the court embedded inside of it.
“Ouch, let me clean that for you.” You said and wet a paper towel, ignoring Logan saying how she was fine and it was part of growing up and being a kid. You kneeled down and patted down Jubilee’s injury, soaking up the blood and wiping out any gravel from the wound.
“Here you are, Y/N.” You heard a familiar sweet, velvety voice beside you. You looked over and saw Nightcrawler holding out a first aid kit from the nearest bathroom, a charming grin on his face.
“Oh, um, thank you Kurt.” You smiled at him shyly, before quickly turning your attention to Jubilee. You didn’t see the look of rejection in his yellow eyes as the irritated twitch of his tail at that, before he sighed and bamfed off again.
*a couple hours later*
“Mein Gott!” The mutant shouted in surprise, also not paying attention to where he was going before tumbling backwards at the collision. You were on your way to training, focusing on wrapping up your hands to look where you were going. Now, you knocked down the last person you wanted to. You felt bad seeing the gorgeous man on the floor because of you.
“Kurt! I’m so sorry! Here, let me help!” You held a hand out to him, but he got up himself.
“It is fine.” He said simply before walking past you, then suddenly pausing and turning to you. “May I ask you something?”
“Sure.” You fidgeted with your hands nervously, anxious for the question.
“Do you…have I offended you in some way?” He asked, his eyes flashing with a bit of sadness.
“What? No? Why would you think that?” You asked, worried your timid behavior had finally kicked you in the ass.
“You tend to just brush me off, I’ve noticed. Lately you don’t really look at me, you respond with few words to me. I just thought…maybe I did something to scare you? Disgust you? Perhaps I…you think I’m a monster?”
You stared at him in the hallway, shock freezing your thoughts for a moment. How could he ever think your awkwardness around him could be because you thought he was disgusting? That he thought you found him frightening? You hadn’t realized how not making eye contact or responding curtly would come across to him, a man who’s been persecuted and attacked his whole life for how he looked. He was the most admirable, amazing person you’d ever met and you made him feel like a monster.
“Kurt, no! Not at all! I just…I do like you, I do! You just…make me very nervous. More so than I usually am…”
“How? Do I intimidate you?” He tilted his head in confusion. “I do not mean to-“
“It’s not that, really. I uh…I just really admire you, I guess. You make me more nervous than the others because…because I really like you…a lot.” You looked down at the floor, shyly looking up into his eyes. His face relaxed when he finally understood what you meant.
“Oh…I apologize for thinking so little of your actions. You are understanding and non judge mental, I should never have assumed what I did about you. How about I take you out to apologize for my ignorance?” He flashed his fangs at you in a charming smile, slowly approaching you before he was close enough to hold out a hand to you.
“I-I…okay.” You took his hand and sheepishly smiled up at him, allowing him to guide you down the hall. “I’m really sorry I made you feel like I-“
“No apology necessary, Y/N, really. I’m just glad we’ve come to…an understanding.” He grinned, bringing your hand up to his lips to place a soft kiss on your knuckles. You blushed and giggled at the action
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seonghwaddict · 7 months ago
Text
super duper pretty — kim hongjoong
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in which you haven’t heard from him in years but a single drunk phone call ends up with you tangled up in your bed.
musician!kim hongjoong x fem!reader. genre. angst, suggestive, friends to lovers. warnings. drinking, tension, kissing, suggestive content. wc. 4k. rating. pg-13.
lilo’s notes. AGHDHSJDJJAJDJSJDHSJS GRRRR WOOF WOOF AWOOOO GR AHHHDHDHDHHDS
listening to. right here, chase atlantic.
masterlist.
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you weren’t someone hongjoong could bring himself to think about much these days. despite having known each other since childhood and been best friends, he hadn’t spoken to you in three years, too caught up in his thriving music career.
album, tours, interviews, collaborations. it all kept him busy and away from you. his chase for stardom had him isolating and distancing himself from friends and family. and, sure, it was shitty, but he didn’t have time to dwell on the people he was told would hold him back. he didn’t have time to regret it. regretting leads to stagnating and stagnating would lead to the end of his career.
that’s not to say he didn’t miss you. of course, he did. but on the last day he spoke to you, it ended in an argument he didn’t have the energy to resolve. so, he left. he left you.
him not having time to regret it was more an ideal rather than a truth.
in reality, he regretted leaving you more than anything else.
but three years later he still hadn’t talked to you, afraid it would ruin his pride if he came running back to you. yet he couldn’t deny how he felt like he was on top of the world, the best producer and rapper in the scene. his career was thriving and his newest album topped charts across alll platforms. when all the interviews and promotions were finally over, he decided to treat himself ot a little celebration, renting a club in town and inviting every major celebrity he had connections too.
the night was spent dancing and throwing back shot after shot until he could barely stand. he enjoyed it at first, but slowly the effects of the colourful drinks made him feel much too hot and cramped in the sea of dancing bodies. making sure no one noticed, he escaped through a back door into the cold, fresh air. he felt the sudden urge to leave, but in his drunken state it would be difficult to navigate his way home.
without thinking, he slumped against the red brick wall and pulled out his phone, dialing a number he’s always know by heart. it rang three times before the person picked up.
“hello?”
hongjoong didn’t realise how much he missed your voice until you uttered that word so softly. he could picture you somewhere in your appartment, maybe in the kitchen to get a snack, tilting your head in confusion at the unfamiliar number.
“hey,” he really didn’t know what else to say, staring intently at a leaf on the ground.
you went completely silent on the other end and for a moment he thought you’d hung up. but, eventually, you spoke again, only this time a certain firmness to your voice.
“what do you want?”
“come pick me up,” his words slurred and molded together and you had a hard time unnderstanding him, sat stifly on your couch, “please, i need you to pick me up. just… just this once?”
you didn’t know what to say. you wanted to scream and yell at him and demand a proper explanation as to why he just walked out of your life like it was nothing, but at the same time, you wanted to sob and confess how much you missed him.
still, you couldn’t help but ask, “what the hell happened, hongjoong?”
"i- i'm drunk," he slurred, sounding even worse than before as he shuffles his feet on the floor pebbled floor. "like, really, really drunk," he insisted with a quiet groan, but you already came to that conclusion. "come pick me up… please?"
you stood up from your couch, pacing around you living room as you listened to him speak before stopping by your window and looking out into the night sky. he was the last person you thought would call you at this house, not having heard from him in three years. but here he was, drunk and begging you to pick him up from god knows where.
“fine.” you said simply, swallowing down the lump in your throat as you grabbed your coat from the entrance of your apartment and slipped on some shoes, not bothering to change out of your nightwear. “where are you?”
“um,” he looked around. the back door led into an alley, but if he walked off to the right he’d be right by the entrance. with his free hand supporting him on the wall, he did his best to get there. “outside the, uh, club,” he explained, though it was really helpful, “by the-” he cut himself off with a sigh, resting his forehead against the wall and squeezing his eyes shut in frustation of his lack of clarity, “the red one.”
your eyebrows furrowed at his vague description as you got to your car, getting into the drivers seat and just sitting there until he could give you a proper answer. “the… red… one?”
“it’s got, um,” he looked around the surrounding area, spotting a familiar place just across the street, “in front of that café we used to go to?”
“oh.” you recognised that, hesitating for a moment before starting the car, unwanted memories of the countless hours you spent with him there clouding your thoughts. all the talking and studying and laughing. “find somewhere to sit.”
“okay,” he nodded to himself, taking some steps to a wooden bench and pointing at it as if you could see, “i’m gonna sit on this thingy.” his drunken stupor had him laughing at himself as he takes the final steps to sit down. he swayed a little but not enough to make him lose balance and fall. once sat, he nodded and grinned at nothing in particular, just proud he was able to manage the simple task you gave him. “i’m sitting.”
“good, great,” you hummed approvingly, holding back a smile at his antics, “now… just hang tight, i’ll be right there, okay?”
“okay.”
it felt good to sit here, he realised with a sigh as he leaned back and tipped his head to look up at the stars. the gentle caress of the night air and the dimmed sounds of the city around him a soothing backdrop to the chaos in his head.
a silence followed his words, tense but not uncomfortable. the red exterior of the cheap club came into view soon enough and you slowed to a stop to park in a free space. you got out of the car and looked around until you found a familiar figure sitting on a bench tucked below a little tree. you hesitated again for a moment before walking to him as slowly as possible, your heart pounding in your chest. he hadn’t noticed you yet, having shut his eyes at some point.
it took you some long moments but you finally pulled yourself together and cleared your throat, making him startle as you muttered a tentative, “hey.”
he glanced toward the sound of your voice, blinking away the drunken haze as he attempted to focus on the world around him. his vision unclear and unfocused as looked up at you, struggling to recognise you for a moment. the bright streetlights made his head ache a little; the world a blur and all he could do was struggle to focus until he could see you properly, the familiar feature snapping him back to reality.
you shifted back and forth on your heels awkwardly, waiting for him to say something as he just stared at you, face flushed and intoxicated. your hair was messy and you wore shorts and a loose light grey sweater. you wondered if he even recognised you, or were you just a stranger to him?
“you came,” he breathed after a while, eyes taking in every detail on you. he focused on you; the way the moonlight caught on your skin, the soft furrow of your brows and subtle downturn of your lips. your eyes, his favourite eyes in the world, looking back at him. “you actually came.”
“you called,” you answered, almost breathless as you also took him in. his style looked a little edgier than when you’d last seen him, though still as chic as ever. short bleached hair, the corners of his sharp eyes smoked out.
“i did,” he nodded, attempting to stand up before slumping back again, “but you actually came.” the alcohol made his words feel heavy, pushing them out in soft sighs as his eyes locked with yours again. he grinned stupidly, “you’re like, pretty.”
you almost laughed at his words, shaking your head lightly, “and you’re like, drunk,” you scoffed jokingly, “come on, it’s late, let me get you home.”
“no, i mean,” he whined, pouting dramatically and now you weren’t sure if the pink tint of his face was from the alcohol or something else, “you’re like super duper pretty.”
unsure of how to respond to his compliment, you only chuckled nervously and offered him a hand to help him get up. “come on.”
he stared at your hand for a few long moments before grasping it and standing up with your assistance. he stumbled a little but caught himself as you led him to the car. your nudged him to get into the passenger seat as you walked around to get into the driver’s.
it was dark in your car, your face dimly illuminated by the screen that displayed a map of the area. you look even prettier in this light, he thought, the sharp shadows making your features stand out that much more. your cheeks soft and round and your eyes sparkling with reflections in a way that made his wander all over you.
neither of you said anything for a while as you sat there. seemingly lost in his drunken daze, he realised how familiar this felt, being there with you, just you and him. everything felt right. he let out a soft hum before leaning back, tilting his head back against the seat and closing his eyes.
“my place is closer than yours,” now that he wasn’t looking at you, you felt comfortable enough to break the silence. finally buckling your seatbelt, you tried to ignore the way butterflies swarmed in your stomach at the thought of his eyes on your body, “you can stay for the night, if you want.”
“do i get the couch?” he turned his head to peer over at you as you start the car, “or…” he giggled, “or… we can share the bed.”
you raised an eyebrow at him, surprised at how flirtatious he was being. “we’ve shared before so, i guess… if the bed is more comfortable for your then i’m fine with sharing it.”
memories of your late night excursions with him rushed back to you and you briefly wondered if he would touch you the same as you laid together. would the feeling of his hand in yours bring you the same comfort? or the protective grip on your back or thigh? you don’t mention any of it.
“let’s just share,” he whispered back. he sounded tired, though if asked he could probably go on a ten page rant of how much he missed being close to you.
he, too, thought of all the night you spent together. the laughs and the touches that felt so real. he remembered how comfortably you would fit in the same bed, laying side-by-side and watching random movies until dawn broke. how easily you’d fall asleep as you shared blankets, face mere inches away from each other but never quite touching.
he wondered if it was possible to relive those times, gazing over at you for a moment before shaking his head and look out the window. those were nothing but drunk fantasies.
“okay,” you whispered back, trying not to look at him, trying not to shiver at the softness of his voice. a little slurred, but still soft.
he was always like that with you. soft.
people would mistake the two of you for lovers more often than not when they first met you, but it was always denied with flushed cheeks and awkward giggles. and it was true. no matter what was said or done, you always remained just that. best friends. it was for the better, made things much less complicated. especially when he took off and you never saw him again.
at least, until now.
the silence in the car was palpable, broken only by quiet breaths and the low hum of the car. it was a calm silence, mildly comfortable despite how heavy it felt, weighted down by all the things unsaid.
eventually, you slowed to a stop and pulled into your parking space in front of the apartment building you lived in. turning off the car, you got out and beelined for the entrance. he knew where to go anyway, not looking back at him as you led the way to your apartment.
the door opened to your living room and kitchen area, just a little messy since you weren’t expecting anyone to come over anytime soon. you made quick work of shucking off your jacket and placing your shoes aside, telling him to wait for a moment before you disappeared through a hallway he knew led to your bedroom.
you returned quickly, a pile of folded clothes in your arms that you held out to him, explaining he had left them a while ago. his body itself didn’t change much, so you figured they should still fit. you didn’t want his sweaty dishevelled suit on your bedsheets.
as he changed, you paced back and forth in your bedroom nervously, thinking about all the possible things that could happen. but you stopped quickly when you heard the bathroom door unlock, practically jumping to lay in bed. you tucked yourself into one side of the large bed, covers pulled up to your chin as you face away from him.
you heard him pause for a moment before you felt the bed dipping behind you and the covers shifting as he blanketed himself too. despite there being a considerable amount of space between you, you still felt him body heat brushing against yours in the thick silence. even though you can’t see him, you knew for a fact he’s probably laying on his back to look at the little glow-in-the-dark stars you stuck to my ceiling years ago and never took down.
you sighed and whispered, “hongjoong?”
“uh-huh?” he hummed, eyes closed for a moment before he turning his head to glance at your back.
you squeezed your eyes shut, taking a deep breath before finally asked the thing you’d been dying to know. “did you ever miss me?”
“more than anything,” he breathed and you felt him shift to lay on his side, facing you. he wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold you like he used to. his voice held a hint of melancholy but he didn’t elaborate more.
you turned too after a moment, not taking a second to notice just how close he was, the thick white covers shifting slightly from the movement. your voice quivered slightly as you spoke, eyes stinging with welling tears. “i missed you too, you know… i missed you every day since you left and every day i hoped you’d come back. but you never did.”
his heart clenched at you admission, the voice he loved so much threatening to turn into sobs. the truth was, he wanted to, countless nights sat alone, wishing he turned back to knock on your door.
“i-i wanted to,” he stammered, whispering ashamedly.
“it’s fine, i got over it,” you forced yourself to focus on the pillow under his head instead of his handsome face.
his brows furrowed as you averted your gaze, eyes following yours even if you refused to look at him. he knew you well enough to know when you lied. he knew you well enough to know you didn’t get over it. didn’t get over him. he mumbled, “did you really?”
your lip trembled at his question but you kept your gaze locked on the white fabric, pressing them together to get them to stop as a few tears spill over the corners of your eyes.
you shook your head, your little voice breaking with overwhelming emotions, “n-no, i didn’t.”
you shifted your look to his hesitantly, your skin tingling from his warmth. your eyelids fluttered as you tried to hold back the tears.
"don’t," he whispered, thumb slipping down to caress your jaw. his eyes searched yours, your eyes wide with sadness and something he couldn’t quite understand. "don’t hide it. you don’t always have to be so strong. not in front of me.”
those words snapped something in your mind, no longer able to swallow down the lump in your throat as you threw yourself into his inviting arms, yours wrapping around his neck as you sobbed into the slope of his shoulder.
“why- why did you leave, w-why didn’t you come back... p-please, i need to know.”
he didn’t expect the sudden break down, but still held you close. one hand at the back of your head, the other holding you by your waist, your bodies pressed against each other and he let his lips press against the top of your head, making you shiver.
he rubbed your back, letting your tears fall wherever they man, muttering reassurances iagainst your hair. his faint scent of whiskey and mint mingled with your vanilla shampoo, his eyes shutting at the oddly comforting mix of smells. you felt him press repeated kisses to your messed up hair.
sobs racked your body for a few more minutes before the tears stopped falling and your breaths evened. you nodded against him, pulling your head away from him to look up at his face, at his eyes. the hand at the back of your head slipped forward to cup your cheek again, brushing his finger along your skin. he traces your cheek bone and along your harline down to your jaw, his eyes shifting between yours in disbelief that his skin was on yours once again.
“i was afraid,” he admitted, barely a whisper, “i was afraid that if i came back, i’d fall for you more… and then i wouldn’t have been able to spend a day without you, wouldn’t be able to chase after my dream. but… at the time, i didn’t recognise you were part of it, you know, my dream.”
your breath hitched as the words registered, “you- what?”
you cut him off with something you'd been wanting to do for a while; you kissed him, hands holding either side of his face. his eyes are widened in surprise, though he didn’t hesitate to lean into the kiss, returning it as quickly as you did it. his hands tightened around you, pulling you as close as he could.
your lips fit against eachother so perfectly, like the lego sets you’d force him to build with you when you were younger, every curve and edge of your bodies slotting together naturally. he got lost in the sensation of finally getting what he dreamed of, a hand slipping below the hem of your shirt to hold onto your bare waist, just wanting to feel closer to you.
his mouth tasted of exactly what he smelled like, mint and traces of whiskey, whimpering against his lips as you welcomed the taste and the touch. your whimper unlocked something, the kiss growing more urgent, restlessly pushed against each other without air left between. you could barely breathe, but you didn’t care as long as his lips stayed locked on yours for as long as possible.
but eventually, he bit down on your bottom lip ever so slightly before pulling away, catching his breath as you caught yours. your chest heaving as you refilled your lungs with air, face flushed from the realisation of what you just did and from the thought of what else you might do.
he glanced down at your swelling parted lips, jimmy coated by your mixed saliva, his pupils blown wide with desire.
“i wanna…” he mumbled, breath unsteady, “i want to…”
he wasn’t sure what he was trying to say, at least not until he noticed the way you peered up at him expectantly with that curious gaze. “what is it, joong?”
that nickname. he hadn’t heard it in a while. three years, actually, because you were the only one that called him that. his eyes searched yours.
“i want to do that again,” he admitted, cheeks warming, “and again and again and again… and so much more than just that.”
your breath hitched, intestines tied into knots as you struggled to figure out what you should say. the truth was that you wanted that too, wanted to feel his lips and hands all over your body. but, as his breath fanned over your face and you caught the traces of alcohol folded into the smell of mint gum, you were reminded that there was a thin possibility he didn’t mean any of it.
“you’re drunk, joong… it’s better if we don’t.”
he frowned, his grip on you loosening. “but you want to, don’t you?” he countered, “you know you want this too, so why not?”
“i just-“ you paused to sigh, continuing with an even tone, “i just don’t want you to regret anything.”
“i meant every goddamn thing i said,” his brows furrowed for a moment and he squinted, trying to emphasise his point, “so, i can’t regret this. i can’t regret you.“
you bit your lip, thinking carefully before sighing, the tension leaving your body as you played with the string of his hoodie.
“how about this…” you suggested, speaking slowly, “if you can wake up and tell me you remembered all this, then we can see where this goes.”
“and if i don’t, you’ll never mention in again?”
you nodded, slightly anxious as you wait for him to agree. it didn’t take too long, seemingly an acceptable compromise for him as he nodded.
“okay,” he agreed, his hand on your waist beneath your shirt tightening once again, “let me just kiss you one more time though, i won’t be able to sleep if you don’t.”
you laughed at his silly excuse, forehead dropping against his shoulder for a moment before lifting to look at him again with a grin that made you feel so stupid and in love. “fine, just one more time.”
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networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet @atzhouse
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poisonf0rest · 4 months ago
Text
𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐜*𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 2
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𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈𝐈
love and deepspace: zayne x fem!reader
tags: smut, teasing, oral, cunnilingus, road head, car sex woohoo, pwp
word count: 6.6K
synopsis: Between being in the midst of your medical residency and being an up-and-coming author, it’s safe to say your personal life has been placed on stand-still. That is, until your editor decided that your next novel needed explicit smut scenes. That is, until your mentor and boss ends up striking a deal for you to help with “inspiration” for said novel. That is, until you fuck Zayne four times and your life changes forever. - partially inspired by manga of the same name by Nae Awaji
original ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57209872/chapters/145519015
art credit: @/kaito_aii
This is the last time you have sex on a weekday.
When Zayne left your apartment last night, you tried to write while the aftereffects of everything he did to you- everything he watched you do- still lingered. But you were beyond distracted, unable to even sit still without being assaulted with vivid flashbacks, a mix of mortification and lust coursing anew. 
You shut your laptop and scream into your pillow. 
Only after feeling sufficiently lightheaded do you shut off the lights and try to sleep, but the damned thing avoids you like the plague, and you stare at the ceiling for an untimed eternity. Everything feels wrong. Your blanket feels too thick, your skin too tight, the entire room too warm, too empty.
You don’t get more than three hours of sleep that night.
But it should be common knowledge that hospitals rest for no one, and you jolt out of bed to the sound of your pager beeping, rushing in while the sky is still dark.
The ambulance pulls in at the same time you do and the paramedics are already yelling out the status to everyone at the bay: forty-three-year-old male, chest trauma, performing CPR. It’s a race, a rush and rhythm you know well. You’re scrubbed down and entering the operating room alongside two other surgeons. The patient is intubated and they give the countdown before cutting him open.
It took two and a half hours to perform the surgery and stop all the internal bleeding, and by the end of it, you were exhausted, both physically and mentally. 
But this was the most in control you’ve felt for a while. A sharp sort of stress that forced your hands into a trained precision and your mind into a rigorous sort of calm. It was almost as though you became a different person entirely, one you both admire and hate. 
She’s calm and collected, only speaking when needed in commands to the operating room. She demands respect. She is who your mother is proud of, who you were supposed to be.
You’ve only just washed your hands and finished debriefing when you feel that half of you begin to slip away once more. And as the stress leaves, your mind wanders back to last night. To Zayne.
Thoughts that haunt you for the rest of the morning.
Finally, the clock hits eight and the ER is busy with the morning crowd. You do what you can until the other residents clock in, leaving to finally eat breakfast and get some sort of caffeine before your headache gets any worse. 
Luckily, the vending machine has your favorite melonpan and green tea, and you get two of each. Sitting down, open your laptop and begin eating in the hallway outside the surgery bay, your manuscript staring right back at you, mocking.
Your eyes burn holes through the cursor blinking at the top of the page, and you try to will yourself to just type something, anything, but it doesn't work, and you end up slamming the computer shut with a sigh.
Unintentionally, your male lead has begun to resemble Zayne more and more- not physically, at least- but in his little mannerisms, his overly formal speech habit, and even his uncharacteristic love of sweets. Your lips quirk up at the memory.
But speak of the devil, and he shall appear.
Zayne comes from the other end of the hallway, looking like he also might be coming out from a surgery. He’s only meters away when his eyes lock onto yours.
You straighten against the chair, a shiver of heat racing down your spine as his mere presence sends an onslaught of flashbacks that are nothing short of sinful.
Stop. What happened last night is part of a professional, mutually beneficial deal. Zayne is still your mentor— your boss too, in some contexts— and you refuse to have these thoughts about him in your place of work.
Smiling, your fingers still against the keyboard as you hope the whole thing doesn’t look as strained as it feels.
Zayne looks the opposite of amused. If anything, he appears pissed.
His gaze narrows on you, and for a second, you think you spot something else behind the cold indifference. But the look passes as quickly as it appeared, his face back to its usual stony expression, and you must have imagined it.
“Good morning, Dr. Zayne,” you say.
Zayne stalls, shoulders tensing for a moment before he nods and continues walking. He doesn’t spare you another glance as he passes, doesn’t say another word, the awkward tension so thick it almost makes you choke on your melonpan.
Your eyes trail after him until he rounds the corner.
Well, that went splendidly.
You try to type again, but it turns out your brain is a useless lump of flesh because no matter how many times you read over the paragraph, the words fail to register. You huff out an exasperated breath, slam the laptop shut, and drag yourself to your office to prepare for rounds.
Even so, you go through your morning routine with a strained smile, a newfound weight pulling against your chest, a sharp sort of pain between guilt and longing you’ve never felt before. 
—----
Zayne is going to lose his fucking mind. 
He is an adult, he reminds himself. A well-mannered, respectful, professional adult. 
So why can’t he stop imagining your face underneath him as you come undone? Why can’t he get the memory of every sound you made, the overly sweet way you said his name, the very cadence of your voice out of his head? 
And the way you said please. 
Zayne grinds his teeth hard enough that something clicks in the back of his jawbone, his usual flat expression twisted with a scowl that sends other doctors and residents scrambling out from his path. His clipboard groans under the pressure from his grip, and Zayne can’t make it to his private office fast enough before he slams the door shut and drags his palm down his face. 
He sees you every time he closes his eyes.
“Fuck.”
Zayne swore to himself that helping you would change nothing in the workplace, and yet clearly, only one of you was mature enough to hold that part of your deal up.
This must be a new level of depravity Zayne never assumed he would stoop to.
But it had been torture to only watch you last night. A beautiful, painful torture he would subject himself to again and again and again just for the chance to have you writhing against him like that once more. 
The way your doe eyes had practically begged for him to fuck you all on their own when he forced you to look up nearly made him come in his trousers. And thank god you were too far gone to notice how desperate he was, grinding insistently against your bedsheets while you came around his fingers. And now… 
And now Zayne was fucking hard again in his office of all places. 
It was a wonder he got anything done anymore.
Zayne hasn't had a lover in years and it's beginning to wear him thin. And yet, the idea of finding someone else to satiate his needs doesn’t appeal to him in the slightest. Not when his mind is so consumed with the thought of you, and the sounds you made, the way you looked at him, the way your eyes would roll to the back of your head every time he curled his fingers into that spot inside of you.
God, he should have just asked you out on a date first. 
Restraint had come easy to him. Zayne was practically raised on it, his very life dependent on his ability to restrain his Evol, the lives of others dependent on his patience and restraint in the operating room. 
But no, when it came to you, everything failed him. 
Maybe he had been a little harsh this morning. Zayne doesn’t know. He doesn't want to think about it.
Running a hand through his hair, Zayne imagines bumping into you again. Would you still be happy to see him, smiling as you did this morning, or would you ignore him just as he did you? 
“About this morning,” Zayne stops, restarts. “I’m sorry for avoiding conversation earlier today.” A groan, “No, I can’t begin like that. This morning I wasn’t myself, there was a patient who required percutaneous coronary intervention and the stress must have gotten to me.” 
He tries again, and again, gesturing to his empty office before dragging a palm down his face. “I must be going insane.”
Zayne has never felt more foolish in his life.
He doesn't even have the excuse of a lack of experience in this field. In his previous relationships, he was always the one to initiate dates and intimacy, and it was the same with any relation that had lasted longer than one night.
But you are different.
The thought of taking his time with you makes him weak. To finally have your legs wrapped around his waist, to finally hear his name on your lips, to finally have your body pressed flush against his and hear you beg for him once more.
He wants to do so much more for you, wants you to use him as you need, to take and take everything he has to give. Wants to surrender to your every whim and every outrageous idea you’ve ever had floating around in that unpredictable head of yours. Wants to taste you, and see if you taste as sweet as you sound when you beg.
Wants to know how your cunt feels and what face you would make when he finally, finally fucks you.
God, Zayne wants to ruin you.
He wants so badly it drives him mad.
Zayne can't avoid you, and he shouldn’t. There are still matters to discuss for your novel and a deal to hold up. He is a man of his word.
A date.
That could work. Just a way to get closer, as colleagues, as partners. 
You would have to spend time together outside the hospital, where the air is clear of any distractions and expectations and Zayne can get his head on straight. Even moreso, it should be something nice, something that will hopefully take your mind off your impending deadline. 
Right, that would be perfect. An opportunity to simply be providing you with the proper inspiration and guidance, as a good mentor should, and keep his end of the deal should you ask for another inspiration session.
Turning back in his chair, Zayne begins filtering through his email and paper files, until something slips from the growing stack. 
The annual charity gala.
As a resident yourself, you were likely already invited, so proposing the two of you go together shouldn’t be too ostentatious, right?
Zayne stares down at the gilded gold lettering.
No. It was definitely out of line in so many ways. But the only other option was to continue down this path, to continue fooling himself that he only agreed to be your fuck buddy out of courtesy and care, and not these wretched thoughts that plauge his every waking moment. 
It would mean he’d be completely at your mercy for seeing you next, whenever you needed him. Or his body, at least.
Zayne doesn’t have the willpower to last that long. Besides, this is more efficient.
So, Zayne opens the letter, pulls the invitation card from its envelope, and begins drafting an email to you in hopes of preserving a little bit of his dignity. 
He didn’t even have to wait an hour to get your response: you said yes. 
______
Zayne opens the car door for you, ever the gentleman. 
Sliding into the passenger seat, you take extra care not to snag the hem of your cocktail dress on your heels or the door. By the time you buckle your seat belt, and the car roars to life, dashboard glowing a soft orange.
"Ready?" Zayne asks, adjusting his cuff as he begins to reverse out of the parking spot.
It’s the first time Zayne has formally invited you to be his plus one, and the thought of being seen beside him like this- at such a formal gala, no less- is all at once thrilling and nauseating.
Zayne steals another glance at you, and where your hands lay clenched in your lap. "It’s just a hospital event, you may very well see other residents there."
A laugh. "I'm not sure if that makes me feel better or worse."
Even without the extra stress from attending this gala, your stomach has been in knots all day long-- your manuscript is due in less than a week. You’ve written a lot, and Zayne’s hands-on “experience” helped you get ample inspiration for most of the main scenes. Yet you can feel the deadline creeping up, the sense of impending doom looming over you.
Of course Zayne notices. "We'll try and have fun, it's just a couple of hours. I heard they also have billiard tables, if you’re interested?” A tap on the steering wheel, then he adds, a little quieter, “Your dress is nice. The color suits you.”
You smile, but your eyes don’t leave the road. Instead, you seem to zone out on the row of streetlights, shadows cast over your face as they pass by, one by one. 
“You clean up pretty well yourself, doctor.”
Zayne continues. “Tell me more about your novel’s progress, then. If you need any more assistance…” he trails off, and you feel a prickling heat creep up the back of your neck. Finally, you look away from the window, and Zayne relaxes against his seat. 
So you begin to tell him about the newest trope your editor wants you to include, a classic in enemies-to-lovers books: forced proximity. “The concept is great. Who doesn’t love it when the two characters who swear they hate each other accidentally get stuck together and turned on at the worst possible time?” 
You ramble, propping your arm against the car armrest as you turn to face Zayne. "So,” you say, ”I'm trying to think of ways they could find themselves in such a situation. Maybe they're cornered by guards or captured by a mutual enemy, or we combine the classic injury trope so they can’t move.” 
"That is one option," he says, eyes still on the road. A turn, and Zayne shifts gears as the car speeds ahead. 
“A classic my mind says no, but my body says yes dilemma.” You debate telling Zayne about the premise around aphrodisiacs and sex pollen, but you think that really might be pushing him too far. You are in a car, after all, and an accident is the last thing you want. 
Instead, you ask, "Have you read any enemy-to-lover books?"
He shrugs. "I've had some experience."
"I'm sure you have."
Zayne shoots you a sharp look. Your smile grows, slow and wicked. 
"And I've done a bit of research," he clarifies, voice flat just to prove a point.
"Right, research."
"Well, to best help you, I thought…” Zayne’s brows furrow as he merges lanes, letting the blinking of the indicator fill the silence before clearing his throat. “I thought reading a book or two in the same field would help me understand your own book better. I must say yours is far better written than some of these popular novels.” 
The mental image of Zayne sneaking a read at some filthy romantasy book has you giggling.
"And you’re sure that's the reason?”
"Of course," he says, though his face is slightly pink.
You feign suspicion, poking at Zayne’s arm. "What if this whole time, you’ve been hunting me down as a means to read my unreleased books?  Then the only reason you agreed to this arrangement is because you're secretly a stalker fan."
"Interesting theory,” a smirk, one you see pull at the corner of Zayne’s lips. “But not the only reason."
"Oh? What’s the other then?"
Zayne smiles, the dim light from the dashboard sharpening his features. Another turn, you spare a glance at the GPS only to see you’re nearly at the gala venue. But still, no answer came, not as Zayne seemed to refocus on the road, shifting gears as the light turns green. 
You groan, “You’re not even listening anymore.” 
“I am.” Zayne shoots you a look from the corner of his eye, one hand leaving the wheel to rest against your thigh. “There is, however, a difference between listening and answering.” 
But now it’s your turn to stop listening. You can’t, not when his thumb does that thing again, tracing mindless circles against your inner thigh while he looks back at the road. 
It does something, to have his hand there, warm and heavy. Something that has your thighs pressing together, heat creeping down your neck.
Zayne catches the motion. Of course, he does. And he squeezes, just a little.
And then a brilliantly wretched idea hits you.
"Do you have any suggestions?" You ask, trying to keep your tone innocent, even as you part your thighs just a little further. "I mean, you did research and all. Surely, you remember something useful about the plots. Or the sex scenes."
"The sex scenes," Zayne echoes, his voice tight.
"Well, yes. They're kind of important. They're why people buy the books." You lick your lips. "For example, surely one of those books you read for research had interesting forbidden tropes?"
"It's likely." His jaw ticks. "You'll have to be more specific.”
"Well..." you draw the word out, shifting in your seat. “You know where else would be a really inappropriate place for a character to get a boner?” Reaching over, you glide your hand up Zayne’s thigh, mirroring his placement on your own. “In a car, doctor.”
Zayne thanked every god for their mercy the moment he got to a red light, car jolting to a halt as he eyed you with a frown.
“Behave," he scolds. "This is beyond reckless."
The genuine frustration edged into Zayne’s voice makes you hesitate, and you move to sit up, retreating your hand from his thigh when it brushes past something unmistakably hard. 
You feel Zayne tense beneath you, the car jerking forward before speeding along as though nothing had happened. Oh, but your lips cracked into a vicious grin as you stretched your way fully over the center console, wriggling your ass in the air on the far side of the seat. 
Really, you should have realized that the stern, self-deprived Zayne gets off on scolding you as much as you did. 
You watch him closely, but despite his harsh words, he never moves to actually stop you. So you continue, scraping your nails up his trousers as your mouth follows, hot breath leaving damp spots against the expensive cotton as Zayne’s thigh jumps under your touch. 
God, the click of his belt coming undone elicited a nearly Pavlovian response at this point, the sound of metal on metal making something in your core flutter. You waste no time going for his zipper, palming at the bulge straining into your touch as it pushes out from between the metal all on its own.
Zayne laments all the trust you placed in him as a driver. Despite being only minutes from the venue, he swore he was gripping the steering wheel hard enough for it to snap. A car behind him honks and Zayne swears under his breath, thoughts clouding over as your hands finish sliding his zipper down, gently palming at his cock as he inhales sharply at the feeling of your hot breath over clothed skin.
And the moan Zayne lets out when you lick the head of his cock is enough to have you gushing. But you never take him any deeper, blocked by your position over the passenger seat, settling with unsatisfactory kitten licks up and down his length, leaving sloppy marks without ever speeding up. 
Zayne shudders, huffing in frustration and restraint as he unconsciously tries to buck himself into your mouth, failing due to the awkward side angle you placed yourself in. Instead, you splay your hands over his lower belly, untucking his shirt as your fingers rub against his v-line, as you begin to suck just barely over this throbbing head. 
“You shouldn’t– fuck." His jaw flexes, and his fingers are white-knuckled, the veins in his forearms standing out with the strain.
The shock of hearing Zayne curse was almost a physical blow. The word was spoken more like a prayer than a profanity, something desperate and violent caught in his throat, a warning and plea all at once. It made something hot coil deep in your gut.
It made you want to push him further.
You must have made some type of sound muffled over his cock because Zayne hisses, his hand coming down from the steering wheel to grab at your hair, fingers threading into your scalp and pulling, just enough to hurt. 
"You are absolutely insufferable." Zayne's voice breaks into a moan. "Stop teasing me."
You pull off of him with a wet pop, sitting up and wiping the drool from your chin. "But I’m hardly doing anything. Don’t tell me you’re getting so hard just from a few kisses."
"Reckless. Lack of foresight. Do I need to teach you how to behave like an adult?" Zayne's grip on the steering wheel tightens, his jaw clenching. You can practically feel the heat radiating off him.
"No," you lean forward and kiss the head, lips wrapping around it as you swirl your tongue. Zayne's foot presses down on the gas and the car jerks forward. "But maybe I could use some help learning my lesson."
You swallow him down, and his hips jump. Humming around him, Zayne’s cock twitches, and before you can stabilize yourself he’s pushing your head down further. You don’t think he realizes he’s doing it, not with the way his hips stutter upwards, thickly corded muscles of his thighs tensing as you nearly choke. 
Another broken moan fills the car alongside the wet sounds of your mouth, drool leaking from the corners of your lips as his cock bumps the back of your throat. You gag, and Zayne’s grip on your head finally loosens, the wheels spinning over loose gravel as you pull off just to breathe.
You can't see him, not with the angle, but the feeling of his eyes on you, burning into the side of your face, and the heavy throb of his cock against your tongue was enough to know just how close he is. 
You're so distracted, tears blurring your vision, that you don't notice the car has stopped, not until Zayne's other hand is reaching over to cup your jaw, forcing your mouth off his cock and forcing your head up to look at him.
The moment your eyes meet, he frowns, thumb rubbing across your bottom lip, cleaning your smeared lipstick and spit from your ministrations. "Look at you," he hums. "What a mess."
The nearby spots in the lot are empty, but you’ve arrived early, and you can see cars parking close enough to send your heart racing. 
You glance at the clock- seven forty-six- and you know despite how Zayne’s windows are tinted, it would take someone looking over from a meter or so away to see the two of you, to see the way Zayne's hands are fisted in your hair, to see you arched over the middle console, to see how hard he was and hear the slick, wet noises you made around his cock.
You nearly yelp as Zayne pushes you off his lap, messily tucking himself back into his trousers before climbing out the door. It shuts with a bang and you’re about to scramble up when you hear the passenger door open and are roughly hauled out of the car and slung over Zayne’s shoulder.
You don’t even have time to scream. The next thing you know, you're being tossed on your back into the back seat, barely having time to right yourself before Zayne follows you, door slamming shut. He's pulling at your dress, bunching the fabric up and around your waist before dragging you under him.
“Did I not satisfy you thoroughly enough last time?” Zayne scolds between breaths, teeth scraping over your pulse point before he bites down. “Or perhaps what I should have realized is that you’re simply a filthy little girl who gets off on being punished?”
The sound you let out is obscene, a whiny moan that has Zayne groaning as he pulls away, his mouth slick and shiny with spit. He grinds his cock against your stomach, his hand coming around your throat and forcing you to face him.
It’s almost effortless, the way he holds you against him, folding your thighs to your chest as he bends to avoid hitting the roof of his car. His cock is still rock hard and pressed against the back of your thighs, only the thin slip of your dress shielding you from his greedy eyes.
"Zayne- fuck, we're gonna be late." You choke out, a gasp following as his hips grind into yours.
“Answer the question.”
Another bite to the plush above your breast and you cry, fearing more for the possibility that he leaves a permanent mark more than anything else. As if hearing that, Zayne bites again. Harder. 
“Yes!” You thrash, trying to kick him off you but there’s little room in the back seats and the leather sticks to your sweat-slick back as Zayne works to pin your hips. “Yes, I’m sorry. I only— I wanted to see how long you’d last.”
A laugh, short and cruel. “How long I’d last?” 
Zayne grabs your wrists and holds them over your head. He leans close, so his lips brush yours when he speaks, and the words are low and soft. Dangerous.
"Well, then. Allow me to return the favor.” Zayne lifts your leg, pressing a kiss to your calf as your foot hits the window, one heel falling off with a thud. “If memory serves me right, isn’t this a trope too?” 
It’s almost effortless, the way he lifts your hips all the way up, your legs kicking helplessly over his shoulders as they’re forced up against the roof of the car. Shifting his weight around in the tight space, Zayne coaxes your calves to cross behind his neck, giving a small grunt as his face is pressed into your inner thighs, one arm straining against the leather of the car seats. 
“Where they’re stuck in a small space, right?” Zayne’s eyes never leave yours.  “Maybe a cave,” his tongue trails up the bare skin of your quivering thigh, “Under a desk,” licking his way up, “in a car?”
He doesn’t give you a chance to answer, not when the heat of his mouth presses directly onto your clothed clit, licking over the lace of your panties as you arch off the leather seats.
You’re already a dripping mess, writhing against the leather of the seats and the hard muscle of Zayne's shoulders, the sensation of his hot tongue pushing against your clit through the lace a painful sort of pleasure. Not enough. Not nearly enough.
Zayne pulls off and stares at the string of his spit and your arousal, warm and sticky, against the soaked patch of cotton between your legs connecting to his lips. Involuntarily, he bucks into the cold emptiness underneath you.
Fuck, he’s so hard he might come from this alone.
You hardly notice, not with the way every muscle and nerve quivers and begs for release, jaw falling slack as Zayne’s lips are quick to tease you again, this time pressing his tongue flat against the crotch of your panties and laving across the entire seam. The gorgeous arch of his nose presses up into your clit, and you moan, one hand flailing backways as it slides against the fogged-up window. 
"Zayne, fucking hell, just eat me out properly!" The curses tumble out of your mouth before you can think of the repercussions, but there was no way he could keep eating you out through the material, no matter how good it felt.
"So desperate." Zayne mumbles between open-mouthed kisses to your cunt, "So needy."
"Fuck- please," You draw one hand through his hair, pulling his face closer. "Please, please, please-"
"Poor thing. I suppose it would be against my oath to leave my patient in such pain." And he roughly presses his thumb up against the hood of your clit.
You sob, hands scrambling for something- anything- to hold on to as they slip down the window and dig into the leather of the seats. But Zayne was nothing if not observant from your last night together, and it doesn't take long for you to cum as soon as his mouth latches onto your poor neglected cunt through your panties. 
Still riding out each trembling wave of your orgasm, Zayne doesn’t fight the way your thighs clench around his head, kissing you through it until he readjusts your legs against his shoulders, forcing you higher onto your upper back. His fingers toy with the edge of the fabric, pleased with the way it sticks to your skin. 
All you can focus on is his breathing, heavy and fast, as he stares down at your cunt so intensely it makes you blush, helplessly exposed with your thighs pinned across his broad shoulders. Spread for him like every inch of the offering he intended on devouring you as. His goddess, his sacrificial lamb. Gods, he wants to know how every part of you tastes.
Zayne’s cock twitches again, and he shudders violently, a fat glob of precum falling onto the leather seats below, mixing with your slick that has already slid down his chin and your thighs.
If left alone, no doubt it’ll stain. 
“Look at the mess you made.” Zayne scolds, forcing your jaw to the side so you can see the puddle staining the seats. You whimper, and Zayne shakes his head.  “Well, we can’t just leave it. I suppose I’ll have to teach you to take responsibility for your actions.” 
Your hips jump. It's so hard to focus when he's talking like that, and the only coherent thought you can muster is that Zayne would be a fantastic writer if he ever decided to switch professions.
But he begins to shift you around, and your brows furrow as Zayne’s hand dips between the two of you, down to the leather, sweeping across the splattered mix of cum with two fingers before forcing your jaw towards him again. 
“Clean up your mess.” 
You think something is permanently fucked in your brain with the way your cunt flutters at that. 
Zayne’s unyielding face stares down at you, his dripping fingers pressed against your lips as you wrap around them and suck. It’s heady, the scent of sex overwhelming as Zayne practically fucks the digits into your mouth, sliding them against your tongue until you gag, thumb tracing loving circles against your bottom lip as though coaxing you to take them deeper. 
Only after gagging twice more does Zayne take mercy on you, withdrawing his fingers from your mouth. Instead, the pads of his fingers press against your tongue, and you take the hint, beginning to suck at them until the taste of you disappears. 
His fingers slip from your mouth, a trail of spit connecting his fingers and your mouth before Zayne breaks it. Your tongue flicks out to swipe at the excess drool, and he wipes your bottom lip. 
“Good girl, tasting just how desperate you are.” Every word of praise Zayne whispers goes straight to your cunt, nearly making you dizzy until he finally sits back. 
“And now…” he finally moves to push the ruined fabric to the side, “I get to taste, too.”
The feeling of his hot tongue directly on your slit nearly has you in tears, and your hand lurches into Zayne’s hair to force him closer. 
“No pulling. Behave,” Zayne warns. “This is still meant to be discipline for your earlier stunt on the road.”
Whimpering, you nod, parted lips swollen and shiny from the abuse Zayne put them under with his fingers. Satisfied, Zayne finally gives you what you need, kissing the swollen flesh of your clit directly before curling two fingers into your aching cunt. 
“Zayne-”
He’s addicted to the way you say his name. He’s addicted, and he’s going to come in his pants if you don’t stop. 
You begin begging again before Zayne covers your mouth with the palm of his hand, muffled cries still enough to drive him insane as he focuses on getting you past that high. 
Despite his threats, you can’t help but tug at Zayne’s hair, needing him against you as your hips began moving or their own accord, bucking and grinding senselessly against his face until you were practically riding his tongue. Chest heaving, you looked up to see him staring directly at you, silhouetted from the car window, green eyes nearly aglow with wretched desire.
Just like that, you’re coming, hard, thighs clenching down around Zayne’s head until he’s certain you’re trying to kill him. But gods, he never wants you to stop.
Addicted, Zayne presses open mouthed kisses to your cunt, swallowing everything you give him as his eyes roll back.
Desperate, you try to crawl away from him, but there’s nowhere to go. Your head hits the car door before Zayne drags you right back, forcing your hips up higher as your back is arched into the air, nearly perpendicular as you sob, legs kicking over his shoulders. 
But still, Zayne continues, and he knows. He feels it the moment your thighs lock up, the way your stomach goes tight and the way your senseless pleading still muffled by his palm reaches a higher pitch. And he takes advantage, not letting up as he curls his fingers until your cunt clenches down on his digits and tongue, squirting into his mouth.  
Almost in apology, Zayne finally withdraws his fingers as he opts to instead clean you directly with his tongue, nose accidentally overstimulating your swollen clit as you weakly fight to push his head away.
Zayne takes the hint this time, lowering your sore legs onto the seats below, finally set on a solid surface after being held in the air for so long. The slit of your dress is askew across your stomach instead of thigh, and Zayne gently tugs it back into place.
Leaning down, he picks up your forgotten heel before slipping it back into your foot, buckling it as you shiver every time his fingers brush your ankle. 
When Zayne finally faces you again, the lower half of his face is a complete mess, and you should be mortified never having squirted before let alone on your mentor’s face. 
But Zayne merely wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, smiling like the slick dripping down his chin was won in victory and not debauchery. “Well then, shall we?”
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happy74827 · 8 months ago
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He’s Got The Fire
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[Johnny Lawrence x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: To your surprise, Johnny shows up at your window unannounced, but it doesn’t take long to realize it’s not for kicks {GIF Creds: pilvimarja}.
WC: 2076
Category: Slight Hurt/Comfort, Slight Fluff, Introverted(ish)!Reader
Honestly, I’m surprised I haven’t started writing this franchise earlier given how it’s about equal with my love for BTTF
『••✎••』
The sun had already gone down a while ago, the air was crisp, and the sky was starry. It was the perfect evening to watch the moon rise. The wind carried a chill, and the trees were almost bare, swaying in the breeze.
With a sigh, you closed the book you had been reading and stretched your legs, looking out the window of your room. By now, everyone had been asleep for a few hours, and you worked on upcoming assignments to pass the time. But when you had gotten to your last one, you just couldn't be bothered anymore, so you set it aside.
The quietness was nice, and the light from the moon cast a blue-ish glow on everything around you. You were so calm, but there was still something that had you feeling off.
Johnny.
He was never around much lately. It wasn't surprising, but it was disheartening. Ever since that championship loss a while back, he had been training even harder, and when he wasn't training, he was out doing god-knows-what.
You understood how important Cobra Kai was to him, but the fact that he was putting everything else on the back burner really had you worried. He had a tendency to go down the wrong path and not think about the consequences until after the fact. You hoped that wasn't what was happening this time.
Pulling your knees up, you rested your head on them and looked out at the night. There was a full moon, and you wondered if Johnny had noticed. He used to love taking walks at night just to see the moon and look up at the stars.
He had changed so much since then. That fire inside of him burned so brightly that sometimes you wondered if it would burn him, too.
Sitting like that for a while, you lost track of time. It was easy to get distracted and drift away from reality when your mind wandered. It was something you were trying to work on, and you were actually doing pretty well.
Until you heard a pang on your window.
Sitting up, you looked around, wondering if a bird had flown into it, but you saw nothing. Your mind immediately went to a branch falling or something like that, and you were ready to dismiss the strange noise and go back to daydreaming.
But the pang came again, and your heart leaped in your throat. You stood and cautiously moved toward the window. At the same time, a face popped up from below, and you shrieked.
He motioned for you to open the window, along with attempts to hush you. It was a very frantic gesture, and you felt your heart rate rise. You quickly opened the window and stuck your head out.
"Johnny?!" You whispered-yelled, and he was pulling himself up. "What are you doing?"
"Shhh!" He held a finger to his lips and looked behind him, and your eyebrows furrowed.
"Johnny-"
"Do you want the whole neighborhood to know I'm here? Let me in!"
You stared at him for a moment longer before helping him through the window. It didn’t go as smoothly as one would expect, like the movies, but he managed to tumble in. You stood there, arms folded, as he dusted himself off.
You haven’t seen him in so long, and the day you choose to miss him, he shows up out of nowhere. You would’ve called yourself psychic if it weren’t for the fact that Johnny always did the unexpected.
He looked… good, to say the least. The red jacket still fit him perfectly; his blonde hair was combed and fluffy, and his eyes were still focused and alert, even if his body language seemed a little sluggish.
To be honest, Johnny was the most beautiful person you had ever laid eyes on. His sharp jawline, his toned muscles, and that cocky smile of his. The way his eyes crinkled when he laughed and the way he always looked at you like you were the only girl in the world.
For a while, you didn’t understand why he chose to pursue you, of all people. He could have anyone he wanted. You weren't exactly a social butterfly, and you always got nervous and shy in the presence of others.
Johnny was the opposite of you. He was outgoing, and his charisma attracted everyone to him. And the way his voice was so smooth and deep. He could be the most annoying person on the planet, but when he said your name, you would melt.
So when he asked you out, you thought it was some sort of joke. I mean, he was the hottest guy in school. And you were just… you.
But then you realized there was more to him than just the bad boy exterior. He had a sensitive side, and his vulnerability was endearing. His family was… well, a lot. His mom was nice, but she had her fair share of issues, and his stepfather was a piece of work.
It only took one date to realize the Johnny you were accustomed to wasn’t the real him. The real him was like you… except he could kick ass and had some pent-up anger issues.
And yet, here you were.
"Johnny-" You began, but he stepped toward you and wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on the top of your head. You stood stiffly, arms at your sides.
"God, I've missed you."
That was the last thing you expected him to say. You felt your face heat up, your chest warm up, and your shoulders slumped. You melted into his embrace, wrapping your arms around him.
"I've missed you too."
You could feel him grin against the top of your head, and he squeezed you a little tighter. He was so warm, and it made you forget the fact that he was literally climbing through your window at almost midnight.
After a minute or so, he pulled away and held your face in his hands. You were looking into those piercing blue eyes, and you could feel butterflies in your stomach.
"Why are you here?" You asked, your voice a little above a whisper.
He hesitated, and that was the moment you knew something was wrong. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
"I, uh… I needed to see you."
You raised an eyebrow, but you didn't say anything. You were waiting for him to elaborate, but when he didn't, you sighed and grabbed his wrist, pulling him towards the bed. You sat on the edge, and he followed.
"Johnny," You said, turning toward him and placing a hand on his knee. "Talk to me. What's going on?"
"Nothing, I just… wanted to see you."
You didn't say anything. You knew better than that. So you waited.
"Okay, okay," He sighed. "Look, I'm not gonna lie to you, but I can’t tell you why."
"That's reassuring."
"It's just… things are… well, I just needed to get away. It's nothing, I'm fine, don't worry."
You were silent. You didn't really know what to say. There was so much going on, and it was hard for you to believe him when he told you not to worry.
"Is it… Is it Sid? Your mom?"
"Just…” He shook his head and stood, rubbing the back of his neck. He started pacing, and that was when you knew he was really upset. “Just drop it, alright? Everything's fine."
“You ignored me for the past two weeks, Johnny. Something is wrong."
He stopped and glared at you, and you froze. You were taken aback by the expression on his face. He seemed frustrated and almost angry.
The look… you knew it wasn’t directed at you, but you couldn't help but feel a little intimidated. He was always so hot-headed and stubborn, and when his mood shifted, you had a hard time knowing what to do.
He seemed to realize his expression and looked away, rubbing the back of his neck with a sigh.
"Sorry, God, I'm sorry, it's not you. I'm just-" He sighed and plopped back down on the bed next to you, running his hands over his face. "I'm a fucking mess, okay? Just forget I came."
It was weird how, in certain situations, you could completely shift into a different person. You’ve seen it in movies and TV, and it was a cliche. You didn’t think it would ever happen to you.
And yet, the second you heard the words come out of his mouth, you were hit with an overwhelming urge to turn his head towards yours, grab his face in your hands, and kiss him.
So you did.
You couldn’t really tell him why you did it. It just felt like the right thing to do, and it was an impulse. You figured it was the best way to let him know that you were here and he wasn’t alone.
The second your lips met, he was leaning into you, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer. You could feel the passion and desperation behind the kiss, and it took you a moment to match his energy.
He was rough and intense, and he pulled away after a few moments, moving to your neck. You gasped and gripped the collar of his jacket, feeling the heat of his lips on your skin.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder, they say. And it was true. You had missed him more than you had thought. You had almost forgotten how much of a force he was to be reckoned with.
You let out a shaky breath, trying to form words, but failing. Instead, you tugged on his jacket and pulled him towards you, hoping he would get the message.
And he did.
His lips found yours again, and he was pushing you back, holding himself above you with one hand. His other was moving up your shirt, his fingers grazing your stomach, causing goosebumps to rise.
Your breath hitched in your throat as his fingers danced across your ribs. His lips were rough, but they moved with such grace and delicacy it was hard to keep up.
He pulled away for a moment, and you looked up at him, catching your breath. His blonde hair was messy, and his eyes were a little hooded. He looked like a mess, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care.
You reached up and brushed his hair back, giving him a soft smile.
“Is that…” His eyes peered away from you, and you raised an eyebrow. "Do you still have that damn elephant?"
Your eyes followed his, and you spotted the elephant in question. It was a gift Johnny had given you back when things were different. Come to think of it, you weren’t even sure you were together at that point.
"Why wouldn't I?" You asked, and he chuckled. “Ozzy's special."
"You named it? What are you, ten?"
You swatted his arm, and he laughed again. His eyes found yours, and you couldn’t help but smile at him. It felt like old times.
"Don't make fun of him. You gave him to me."
"Yeah, whatever," He rolled his eyes, but his smile remained. "Can't believe you kept him."
"I keep a lot of stuff, Johnny. Especially when they're meaningful."
He was silent for a moment, his eyes still focused on you. The moonlight was shining through the window and casting a shadow on his face.
"I keep a lot of things, too."
Before you could say anything, he was leaning down and kissing you again. You could tell this one was different, more meaningful, like he was pouring his heart and soul into the kiss.
And he was.
He wanted you to know how he felt about you without actually saying it. And although you weren’t really sure what was going on, you had a feeling this was what it was.
The fire inside of him was burning again, but finally, after so long, he realized that he needed to take a breather every now and then. Add some water to the flames.
It was a delicate balance. And although he may be bad at showing his feelings, talking about them, or acknowledging them, you were there to make sure he didn't lose himself in the heat.
And maybe, just maybe, the flame was a little more subdued, and the burn a little less harsh.
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vandnana · 2 years ago
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Your Protector (i)
pairing: neteyam x female omaticaya reader (best friends to lovers)
summary: You and Neteyam grew up together, always knowing the feelings you had for each other, but too shy to vocalize it. But, when you leave with the Sullys to seek refuge with the metkayina people, Neteyam can’t help but finally tell you...after seeing you with Aonung
genre: fluff, *smut [at the end]
warnings: kissing, sensual scenes, jealousy
*characters are aged up*
word count: 6000+
— kinda slow burn, but definitely a lot of tension, follows the general story line with many moments between you and him 
[part 2 is here!] [part 3 (finale)]
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Neteyam. He always liked to call himself your protector and you hated it. You always told him you could protect yourself. It was one of those things that he admired about you. You could do just about anything. You were practically perfect to him. Nothing could ever change his mind about that. You were his best friend, but the pressure he felt everywhere else always stopped him from ever telling you how much he really loved you, how he sees you and no one else.
You and Neteyam were inseparable since the day you met and you thought that it would always be that way. He was the only person that made you feel courageous and shy at the same time, but you did a pretty good job hiding how you felt about him.
Until he told you that he would have to leave the forest.
“How can I stay here knowing that you are out there?” You yelled, tears falling from your eyes.
He stepped forward, yelling back at you, “Y/n, this is for the people, to protect you all. I-“ Neteyam stopped himself when you averted your eyes from him, not wanting to listen.
He took hold of your arms, but you pushed him away. “Do not touch me.”
Still, he inched closer to you, but you backed away, your tears pouring over your face, angry cries escaping from your mouth.
Seeing you cry hurt him, but Neteyam did his best to sound strong, even though the thought of leaving you broke his heart too.
“I cannot let you come with us, y/n! We are being hunted. You must stay here. It is the only way I will know you are protected. It is the only way I will know you are safe.”
You shook your head, your heart breaking as he took his steps toward you. You let yourself stand still as he approached, your hands hitting at his chest as he wrapped his arms around you.
You looked up at him, unblinking, your tone revealing your pained frustration, “Why am I the only one who should be protected? Did you ever think that perhaps I would want to protect you? I want to protect you too Neteyam. You are stupid for thinking I could ever be without you. Stupid.”
You felt out of breath after all that lay in your mind spilt out into the thick air between you. There it was. That courage you always had when you were with him, but as he stood, speechless, only looking at you, you became shy. Just like you always did.
His firm expression softened as he processed your words, his cheeks reddening, his heart racing in response to being so close to you, your foreheads almost touching, and butterflies finding a home in his stomach, whirling around as he looked at you. Butterflies had also found you, flying around as his eyes were on you, and you could not look away for that moment. Your heart matched his, rapidly pacing in your chest, the only thing separating the two of you were your hands still at his chest. You could pretend the butterflies weren’t there and you could pretend that your heart raced because you were angry. Yet, you could not hide the newfound blush that was forming on your cheeks, and once you felt the heat settling on your face, you pushed away from him, your eyes downcast.
“I am going. You cannot convince me otherwise.” You said before quickly leaving the tent, walking off to find Jake and Neytiri.
“Are you sure you want to? You can never come back here.” Jake’s expression was serious, his voice stern.
“What have you always said? Sullys stick together. The sky people killed my family. You are all I have left.” The memory was painful, but it was the truth, and Jake knew it.
Looking at Neytiri, she gave a doleful look, giving him a small nod, then turning to you, “You will come with us.”
When you and the Sullys touched down onto the Awa’atlu Village, the metkayina people surrounded you, tilting their heads at your odd appearance. They had clearly already made up their minds about you all. You were different. Foreign.
Two boys about your age approached you, Lo’ak, and Neteyam, the taller one taking hold of Lo’ak’s tail for a moment and laughing, “Is this supposed to be a tail?”
You eyed them darkly, as they looked at you, Neteyam inching closer to you as they walked by.
“Aonung, Rotxo stop it!” A gentle voice scolded. Looking over, it was a girl, their sister, you assumed.
When the chief, Tonowari, and his mate, Ronal came, the tension in the air was thick as Jake maintained his calm, pleading with the couple to give sanctuary to his family. Ronal’s hesitation worried you for a moment, but hearing Jake’s plea, they agreed to grant you refuge in their home and teach you the their ways.
“My children will teach your children how to live like us.” Tonowari proclaimed, much to Aonung’s dismay.
But, Tsireya, the chief’s daughter, smiled, motioning for all of you to follow, “Come, I will show you where you will live.”
Everyone followed, Jake taking the lead. You observed around you, in awe at how different everything was. People were casting nets out into the sea to fish, children were playing in the water beneath the walkways, and the weapons you could see were spears, not the bow and arrows you were used to, and all around, there were animals swimming peacefully.
After settling down in your hut, Tsireya guided you all toward the edge of one of the docks, starting your first lesson in the water. Her and her brothers dove into the water, Lo’ak and Neteyam following after them, then you, Kiri, and Tuk last.
While the others seemed to struggle more, you and Kiri were able to hold your own in the water almost instantly. The others swam after Tsireya and her siblings, but you stayed with Kiri, mesmerized by the creatures in the ocean. While Kiri did her usual thing, admiring the animals and plants, you simply loved how it felt to be submerged in the water, staring up at the surface, the sun creating glimmers in your surroundings.
It didn’t take long for everyone to realize the two of you had strayed off, but Tsireya was able to find the two of you quickly, and when you noticed her and the others coming, you nudged Kiri, swimming up to the surface with her.
Breaking the water, Neteyam swam to you, taking hold of your arms, his face etched with worry. “Do not scare me like that. You could have been hurt.”
“I am fine. I am not a baby.” You pushed him away lightly, your eyes bilious for a moment before softening as he continued to survey your face, making sure your weren’t hurt anywhere, “I’m sorry for worrying you.”
You and him still had not discussed what happened at the tent, so you both pretended like everything was fine, but the tension between the both of you was painfully obvious to everyone else. Lo’ak and Kiri glanced at one another, giving each other a knowing look.
Tsireya continued to teach you all, from breathwork to their sign language. Once the sun began to set, you went your separate ways. Heading back to the tent, Jake and Neytiri were on the floor, urging you all to sit and eat.
The day felt long, but you were determined to adapt, ready for whatever the next day had in store for you.
Everything was slowly becoming second nature to you as days passed. You fell into a comfortable rhythm with the others in the village, finding your way in the water, and connecting with the animals around you. Even breathing the metkayina way had become easier, but Neteyam still struggled slightly, and it was you who would help him practice.
You and Neteyam were in what you guys decided would be your spot on the island. You found it while the two of you were exploring the reef, you diving just a little too far down and Neteyam, worried beyond belief, catching up to you. There was a cave, hidden behind the giant anemones and coral, and somehow, entering it, you found that the cave itself was not submerged in water, preserving the air for you to breathe in. You and him were sitting across from each other, the pool of water that would lead you back out into the reef beside you, rippling slightly at the echoing in your voices.
“No, no you’re doing it wrong. You keep breathing from your chest. You have to slow your heart rate down and breathe from below.” You instructed, demonstrating it yourself.
“I know! I know. I’m trying. Why are you so bossy?” Neteyam replied, knowing the comment would irritate you.
“Maybe I would not be so bossy if you could do it right!” You let out in annoyance. Neteyam only laughed, amused at how easily he could get under your skin.
“You laugh now, but when you are drowning I won’t save you.” You punched him in the chest lightly, trying to keep a straight face. He had one of those laughs that made you want to laugh too.
Rolling his eyes, he scoffed, “Really? You would let your protector drown? I don’t think so.”
Annoyed, you pushed him again, “Or maybe I should just kill you now.”
He raised his eyebrows cockily, and again, you brought your hands up to hit him, but he dodged, grabbing your arms instead. Using all your body weight, you drove him back, sending him downward on the ground with you on top of him. The action caught him off guard and he let go of your arms and taking the chance, you pinned him down.
“It is just too easy.” You let out, a satisfied grin on your face. “Fine, fine you win.” Neteyam muttered. He was about to sit up, but you moved ever so slightly on top of him, making his breath hitch. He looked away from you, feeling his whole body heat up.
You mistook his actions, laughing maniacally, “Don’t tell me you are out of breath from just that?” You teased, putting your head on his chest, the sound of his heart beat rapidly beating against your ear.
“And your heart is beating so fast too.” You continued, bringing your head back up to look at him, but as you did, you realized your closeness, bringing a scarlet hue to your cheeks. You hadn’t been this close since the day at the tent.
Your gaze only made things worse for Neteyam, his tail raising underneath him at the movement, making him sit up quickly, taming it down before it brushed against you.
His face was red now, and with a frustrated sigh, he finally looked at you, “Of course my heart is beating fast. I’m with you.”
When the words spilled out of his mouth, he instantly regretted it. This was not how he wanted to tell you how he felt. His words came out too messily and he was ashamed.
You blinked at him, that shyness revealing itself again, his words stirring butterflies in your stomach.
“What do you mean?” You whispered softly, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at you.
You spoke again, leaning forward and placing your hand on his chest, “Neteyam, tell me.”
Clearing his throat, he spoke, trying to sound confident, “We should get going. I should go check on the others, make sure they are not causing trouble.”
You knew that was a lie.
You got up and he followed suit, still avoiding your eyes, “Neteyam—“But, he didn’t speak another word, only managing a weak smile at you, pretending he wasn’t bothered.
When you got back to the village, Neteyam said goodbye to you, hastily walking away. You followed him though, practically running through village. You were so focused on catching him you didn’t notice Kiri calling your name.
Grabbing your arm, she finally caught your attention, sensing the panic in your body language. “Y/n what’s wrong?” She asked, concern painted in her eyes.
“It’s Neteyam. He’s acting weird and I don’t know why. He just… ran away from me.” You explained, putting your hand on your head as you tried to piece together what happened.
Kiri rubbed your back, “I’m sure everything’s fine. You know Neteyam. Sooner or later he’ll tell you what’s on his mind. Especially if it’s you. I wouldn’t worry too much.”
You nodded at her words, taking a deep breath. “Why don’t we go into the water before dinner. It will be a good distraction.You smiled, nodding as she took your hand and led you to shore.
You planned on diving into the water but Kiri noticed something in the sand and as if she was entranced, she laid down, “Come, (y/n) look!”
Submerging her head in the water, she fixed her eyes on one spot and taking a breath, you did too, lying on your stomach across from her.You weren’t exactly sure what you were looking at, but you stayed with Kiri, observing what was in front of you intently. The two of you stayed like that for a while until the sound of voices made you lift your head out of the water.
It was Aonung and three other boys. You rolled your eyes, “What do you want?”
Kiri finally lifted her head, confused as to what was going on.
Aonung kept a vile smirk on his face, his eyes going back and forth between the two of you. “Nothing, we just wanted to see what the two freaks were doing.”
You grabbed Kiri’s hand and began walking to the shore, turning your head toward the boys, “Funny, I was just about to say the same thing to you.” You spat back, Kiri laughing at your response.
The comment clearly angered them all as they stomped behind you, Aonung gabbing Kiri’s arm as a retaliation.
“Hey, get your hands off her!” You yelled, but he only laughed, his eyebrows raised slyly.
From the way you were balling up your fists, Kiri could tell you were beyond pissed now, taking hold of your arm to pull you away, “Come on y/n let’s go.”
You could have listened, but instead you threw a punch that caught Aonung off guard. Aonung and the rest of his boys stepped forward, but Lo’ak and Neteyam appeared to finish the fight, Lo’ak throwing another punch and Neteyam jumping in to help. Eventually, one of the men of the village noticed, breaking up the fight and sending you back to Jake.
As the three of you approached the hut, Jake turned to you, his face disappointed.
Neteyam watched his father, stepping forward, “This is my fault sir.”
“No it’s not. You gotta stop taking the blame for this knucklehead,” pointing at Lo’ak who looked away. “Go apologize. I don’t care how you do it.”
“But dad!—“ Lo’ak protested, but you stepped forward.
“Do not blame your sons. This is my fault, Jake. Aonung called Kiri a freak so I punched him first. It is me who should apologize.” You admitted, looking down at your feet.
“I expect this from these two, but not you y/n. You should know better. You both go apologize.” Jake scolded, his tone clearly frustrated.
You and Lo’ak nodded your heads before walking out of the hut.Lo’ak groaned, “Ugh. I can’t believe we have to say sorry to him.”
You slung your arm over his shoulder, “Let’s just get it over with, okay?” You gave him a reassuring look, which seemed to make him relax.
Appearing next to you, Neteyam slung his arm around your other shoulder, “Hey, you okay?”
You leaned the boys’ heads toward yours, hugging them both before grabbing their ears and pinching.
“Ow! Ow! Y/n that hurts!” Neteyam whined, his brother echoing the same cry.
“You guys are such a pain in my ass.” You lamented, before finally letting go.
“You’re the one who punched him first!” Lo’ak complained.
“Yes, but who came in and kept punching?” You retorted, the two of them avoiding your gaze.
You chuckled, “Thank you for doing that. It was stupid, but… you guys looked cool.”
Neteyam scoffed cockily, “Of course we did.” You glanced over at Neteyam, his mouth formed in a satisfied grin.
“Well, come on,” You motioned over to Lo’ak, “let’s go apologize.” You huffed.
“Y/n, wait” Neteyam called, grabbing your hand, you turned, your eyebrows raised expectantly.
Clearing his throat, he spoke, “When you come back, I have to tell you something.”
You nodded, “Wait for me at our spot, okay?”
Letting go of your hand reluctantly, he agreed, waving to you as you both walked away.
“I’m sorry I hit you. So many times.” Lo’ak apologized, and you reluctantly said sorry too, trying not to look indifferent. The boys looked at one another before accepting his apology.
You motioned for Lo’ak to follow you, but Aonung did something you did not expect.
“So what do you say? We are going hunting. Outside the reef. It is where the men hunt. Are you coming?” Aonung coaxed, glancing over at the other boys mischievously.
“No way. I’m not allowed.” Lo’ak said, starting to guide his ilu toward you.
Calling out, Aonung struck a nerve in Lo’ak, “I must be talking to the wrong brother then.”
Without any hestiation, Lo’ak turned around, “Let’s do it.”
You grabbed him, sensing something wrong, you gave Lo’ak a warning look, “Lo’ak, let’s go.”
He pushed you away, swimming after Aonung and the boys. Groaning, you looked back at the village before diving to follow them.
When you had reached Three Brothers Rocks, you dove after the boys, watching as Aonung began to swim up to the surface.
“What are you doing?” You hissed, your expression dark. Saying nothing, they only laughed, taking off on their ilus, leaving you and Lo’ak to the boundless ocean.
Not long after, Lo’ak surfaced, confused to find only you in the water, “Where are they?”
“Gone.” You flared, trying to calm yourself down as anger set its threshold in you.
Hopping on your ilus, you began to swim back, but a force from underneath the water sent you and Lo’ak flying, off of your ilu and back into the depths. As the water settled around you, you could finally see what had sent you back, a creature, intent on killing you both. You and Lo’ak glanced at one another quickly before swimming toward the coral, taking refuge in its labyrinth. The creature charged, biting the coral to get to you, but you continued to move inward. When it reached a point that it could not break, the creature retreated briefly, giving you a moment to calm yourself to control your breath.
You looked at Lo’ak, but you could tell he was panicking and you grabbed hold of him gently to reassure him. It seemed to work, but you knew he had reached his threshold of breath. You urged him upward quickly, hoping that the creature would not come back. Freeing yourself from the coral, you reached the open water, continuing to push him up. But, the creature had waited for you, turning its body to face the two of you. Grabbing your knife, you held it up, bringing Lo’ak behind you, but your chance to use it never came as another animal came, charging and killing the creature.
A tulkun.
Suddenly, you felt Lo’ak’s body go limp behind you, and you caught him, holding him as you approached the surface. The tulkun swam underneath you, taking you to the surface on its fin.
Once you broke the water, you breathed in deeply, turning Lo’ak over and pushing on his stomach, expelling the water trapped in his lungs.He coughed violently, before sitting up. Taking in his surroundings, unsure if he was alive or not.
“We survived.” You breathed, “Thanks to this tulkun.”
Its clicks sounded through the air in response and you smiled, looking into its eye, you signed, “Thank you for saving us.”
Lo’ak signed too, stroking above its eye.“Hey, look.”
You slid off its fin, observing the harpoon stuck in its flesh. Lo’ak gave an apologetic expression, his eyes sad from the sight. The two of you took it out, and the tulkun clicked radiantly as a thank you.
You were intrigued by the tulkun, watching as Lo’ak signed to the creature. You smiled as you watched him make a connection with it, but as you waded longer in the water, a stinging pain began to burn on your back.
“Agh—“ You hissed, pushing your hair away to reveal a large cut across your back. Seeing the cut, Lo’ak’s eyes widened, “We need to get you back to the village,” Turning, Lo’ak faced the tulkun, “Please take us to the village.”
As you swam, the salt water burned into your wounds, but you were able to bear it, gritting your teeth when the pain would intensify. The tulkun stopped at the edge of the village, and you both said goodbye to your new friend.
It was Neteyam who figured out you were both missing. When you didn’t show up at your guys’ spot, he knew there was something wrong. One of the warriors surveying the water caught sight of the two of you, taking you on the back of their boat to the edge of the docks where everyone was waiting.
When you saw Aonung, your expression was vicious, hissing at him as Lo’ak was readying himself to fight again, but Jake pushed the both of you back and Neytiri approached the two of you angrily. Your disdain was fixed on your face until you saw Neteyam, who could only apologize for not being there, his eyebrows furrowed in deep shame.
Jake and Neytiri scolded their son, apologizing for Lo’ak in front of Tonowari, but he refused. Tonowari knew Aonung knew better than to take Lo’ak outside the reef, and urged that it was his son to blame.
You felt relieved hearing this, but that feeling vanished once Lo’ak spoke.
“No sir. This is my fault. Aonung tried to talk me out of it, but I didn’t listen.” Lo’ak lied.
“Lo’ak!” You piped in disbelief.
Jake sighed, taking Lo’ak by the arm and Neteyam turned his attention to you, helping you up onto the dock. You and him walked forward, but a sudden shot of agonizing pain surged through you, your vision fading to black as your mind began to shut off, “Neteyam.” Your voice breathy and weak as he looked over at you, catching your body as you fell, your mind finally sending you into darkness.
When you finally awoke, you were lying down in a hut you had never been in before, the sun shining on your face as you opened your eyes. The pain in your back was gone and you took a deep breath in.
“You’re awake! She’s awake! She’s awake!” You heard, looking over to find Tuk beside you.
Then suddenly, the Sully children gathered around you, relief washing over their faces as you sat up.
Neteyam who had been standing in front of the hut rushed to you, kneeling and taking your hand in his, “I am so happy you are alright,” He beamed, smiling at you.
You beamed back, quickly repositioning yourself to hug him, sending him backward onto the ground.
“Okay. Barf. I’m leaving.” Lo’ak said, rolling his eyes at the two of you before walking out of the hut, Kiri and Tuk following after him.
You paid no mind to Lo’ak, your attention focused on Neteyam. You were not sure how long you had been unconscious, but it must have been agonizing for him, and the thought of him being in such pain caused you heartache. You leaned into his ear, your voice quiet as you spoke, “I am sorry for worrying you again.”
Your breath on his ear sent an instant flush to his body, concentrating at his cheeks, painting them a shade of pink. He gulped, trying to calm himself down. With you still on top of him, he sat himself up, never taking his eyes off you.
Sheepishly, he shook his head, “No, do not apologize. I am just…” he paused, taking a second to study your face admiringly, “I am just happy that you are alright.”
You laughed, standing up and holding your hand for him to take, “You already said that.”
He took your hand lifting himself up, sighing as he now stood, “Even at a time like this, you love to tease me.”
“Of course. I was knocked out for a while. I must make up for the lost time.” You joked, earning a laugh from him.
You guys stayed in a comfortable silence before you remembered the conversation you had before you left.
“Neteyam, before…you said you wanted to tell me something.”
“Right…” He began, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, “Y/n, I wanted to tell you…”
You stepped forward, looking at him expectantly, “Yes?” He took your hand, gulping as he tried to piece the words together in his mind, “I wanted to tell you I—“
“Y/n.”
At the sound of your name, you pulled away from Neteyam, looking over at where the voice had come from.
Seeing who the voice belonged to you rolled your eyes. “What do you want Aonung?”
“I-I— can I talk to you for a second?” Neteyam looked your way, tilting his head as he wondered what you were going to do.
You let a breath in, “Fine, fine. Let’s talk.”
You walked toward the entrance of the hut, but Neteyam put a hand on your shoulder, “If you do not want to talk to him, you do not have to.”
“Who said I was going to talk to him? Maybe I’ll just hit him.” You grunted, giving him a reassuring look.
Neteyam knew what you meant, giving Aonung a warning look before exiting the hut.
When Aonung stepped inside, you could feel your anger returning to you as you looked at him, but you did you best to hold it in, “What do you want to say?”
“I am sorry. For treating you the way I did and for what happened to you.” His head was downcast, and seeing that annoyed you.
“If you want to apologize to someone properly, look them in the eye.” You hissed, placing your hand on his chin, you forced his gaze.
You expected him to be smirking like he usually did, but he wasn’t. His expression was, for the first time, apologetic.
“I’m sorry. I mean it. I-I really am.” It was all he could find himself to say, keeping his eyes locked on yours.
You studied him for a moment, still in disbelief. “It is hard for me to accept your apology, but for the sake of peace, I will.”
Outside, Neteyam watched you and him from a distance, wondering what conversation the two of you could be having for you to hold his chin the way that you were. He could feel a sense of unease rise within him as he watched.
“What are you doing?”
Jumping, Neteyam turned around to find it was only his younger brother, his face curious.
Looking back at the hut, Neteyam grunted coolly, “Nothing.”
Following his gaze, Lo’ak smirked seeing you and Aonung in the hut, “Are you jealous big bro?”
“I am not. Me? Jealous? Of him? No way.” He replied defensively.
“Really?” Lo’ak glanced again behind his brother, turning him around, “So that doesn’t bother you at all?”
Aonung stepped closer to you, putting his hand out, “Friends?” Aonung said.
You grabbed hold of his arm, “Friends.”
Neteyam gulped, but did not want to give Lo’ak the satisfaction of being right, “They are probably just making up. That does not means anything.”
Lo’ak, amused, continued to joke, “You better hurry up bro. He’s already making moves on her.”
“Shut up.” Hitting his brother on the shoulder, scowling.
“What’s happening?”
It was Kiri with Tuk by her side. Lo’ak couldn’t resist making fun of his brother again.“
Neteyam’s jealous because Aonung is talking to y/n.”
“I am not!” Neteyam protested.
“Come on, just admit it.” Lo’ak nudged, sparking another flow of arguments between the boys.
“This is so stupid.” Kiri said, rolling her eyes.
Tuk, who only caught ins and outs of the conversation, only really cared when she heard your name and had also caught sight of you at the same time.
“Oh look it’s y/n! She’s about to get in the water. Come on, Kiri, let’s go to her!” Tuk begged, latching onto her sister’s arms, running to where you and Aonung were.
The boys had finally stopped arguing, Neteyam running with his sisters in an attempt to catch you, but you and Aonung were already in the water with your ilus, swimming fast and far from them. Aonung had challenged you to a race and you couldn’t help but accept.
Neteyam was about to jump in the water too, but Kiri stopped him, “My god, you really are jealous. You’re really going to follow her?”
Neteyam scoffed, “That doesn’t mean I’m jealous.”
But even he knew that what he was saying was a lie, his siblings groaning at his response.
They elected to wait for you on the shore, Tuk running quickly, urging her siblings to hurry up, Neteyam trudging behind everyone.
Aonung was fast, catching up to you as you distanced yourselves from the village, but you were determined to win and as Aonung approached, tailing your ilu, you had built up enough momentum to shoot forward toward victory.
Disconnecting from your ilu, you got out of the water, a satisfied grin plastered on your face. The minute the Sullys saw you emerge from the water, they made their way over, Tuk running to you excitedly.
“Guess who just beat Aonung in an ilu race?” You said to her playfully, picking her up and spinning her. She giggled, sticking her tongue out.
Aonung stepped forward, scowling, “That was just beginner’s luck.”
“Maybe, but you still lost. You should not have triggered my competitiveness.” You sneered, putting Tuk down.
Lo’ak and Kiri gathered around you, proudly whooping as you approached, but Neteyam stood behind you all, his arms crossed, eyeing Aonung as he stood beside you, too close for his liking.
“I want a rematch.” He challenged.
But you shook your head at him, “I must refuse. I would not want to embarrass you a second time.”
At closer glance, you suddenly looked different to Aonung. The sun was reflecting off of you, your wet skin glistening, your smile radiating as you continued to tease him in front of everyone. You looked pretty to him.
He wanted to keep being around you, staring as the newfound thought stained his cheeks with a faint blush, a sudden confidence taking over him, “If you won’t race with me again, then go for a dive with me instead.” Holding out his hand to you, he nudged for you to take it.
Seeing this, Neteyam uncrossed his arms, his eyes shot at you as he waited for your response, hoping you would refuse.
You looked at his hand, then at him, tilting your head.
“Right now?” You asked, and he nodded eagerly.
Not waiting for your answer, he took your hand anyway, leading you toward the ocean, “Come on.”
“Wait, Aonung—“ You began, but you were interrupted as Neteyam came up beside you, pulling you closer to him, breaking you away from Aonung’s grasp.
Calling his ilu, he sat you in front of him, telling you to hold your breath before taking off, leaving everyone on the shore stunned.
Aonung watched as the two of you disappeared and once everyone processed everything, Lo’ak patted Aonung’s shoulder. “Sorry man, you never stood a chance.”
You were facing Neteyam as he rode, watching him as he concentrated on where he was going, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth slightly pursed. You looked at your surroundings, recognizing familiar structures of coral, and you smiled. You knew where he was taking you.
When you arrived at the entrance of your spot, Neteyam disconnected from his ilu, taking your hand and leading you into your cave. Breaking water, you both took a breath, his hand still in yours, you tightened your grip around it, causing him to look at you. You swam toward the edge of the pool, pulling him with you, the two of you pulling yourselves out of the water.
You took his hands into yours, feeling the heat in you rising and the butterflies in your stomach coming back to you, fluttering quietly as you waited for him to say something.
But Neteyam stood, speechless, looking at you, admiring you. He owed you so much, but did not know what to say, too abashed by the feelings that arose every time the two of you were this close.
“Why did you do that?” You asked softly, caressing his hand. But you felt you knew the answer. You just hoped that what you felt was true.
“I didn’t like it.” He let out nervously, your confused expression begging for him to say more.
“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you, how we was holding your hand. I-I hated it.” His head was downcast, ashamed at such childish feelings.
You took one of his hands up, placing it on your chest where your heart was. The movement made him look at you, his mouth open in surprise and the familiar heat in his face intensifying.
“Do you feel how my heart beats?” It was beating fast and was only growing in pace as Neteyam kept his soft gaze on you.
He nodded, looking at you with a dreamy smile, which you happily returned.
You placed your hand on his chest, feeling as his heart beat matched yours, “My heart beats like this because of you.”
You let go of him, turning away. It was only when you did this that Neteyam realized just how your warmth affected him, how cold it would suddenly feel when you weren’t beside him.
”But, you must choose me, Neteyam. There are many women, all beautiful women for you to choose.”
Neteyam shook his head, approaching your turned back, his voice confident, “I do not want another woman. I only want you, y/n.”
Instantly, you faced him, smiling brightly, taking his hands into yours again, returning the warmth around him, around the both of you. It wasn’t a feeling that Neteyam wanted to let go of.
He leaned in, pressing his lips against yours, letting go of your hands and instead taking hold of your waist, his grip tightening as he pulled you closer. As you wrapped your arm around his neck, you felt his tail brush against your leg, the movement slow, loving. You let out a slight moan, making Neteyam only deepen the kiss. The heat between the two of you burned with every movement, Neteyam lowering your bodies to the ground, taking hold of one of your legs as you wrapped it around him.
You weren’t sure how long the two of you laid together, but once you pulled away, the two you let silence fill the cave, your foreheads touching as you embraced. Neteyam grabbed his queue from behind him, and you leaned back, watching as he brought it in front of you.
“I see you.”
You brought your queue in front of you, looking at him before making the bond.
“I see you.”
When you felt the bond, your entire being connected with his, every sensation between the two of you charging as the amorous look in his eyes sent your heart into a frenzy. Neteyam, still with his forehead to yours, kissed your cheek before letting his lips explore every part of you. You closed your eyes with every touch, the core of you reaching a new state of bliss. Returning, Neteyam brought his lips to yours again and you savored the feeling, another wave of heat ready to burst in you. You reached down, and Neteyam pulled away, his look unsure, but you nodded reassuringly, bringing his head back down to connect your lips once more. There was nothing between you now, the little space that you once had now gone as Neteyam pushed into you, his movements passionate and loving. Your hand was at his back, the other clutching his hair as he kept going. The closeness between you and the love you could feel conjured up tears in your eyes, a moan escaping your mouth at every motion, your toes curling as the momentum continued, building and building until finally you both reached your bliss.
Pulling away breathlessly, Neteyam looked at you again, and not being able to contain how happy he was, smiled warmly at you before peppering your cheeks with kisses.
You giggled, lifting yourself up, him holding onto you. still, your tails curling around each other.
“So, this was how you felt… all this time?” You asked innocently, only wanting him to hear him say it one more time.
Taking your cheek in his hand, a mischievous smile took over his lips, “If it wasn’t clear…I can show you again.” His eyes suggestive as he raised his eyebrows.
You rolled your eyes at him, lifting your arm to punch him lightly, but he grabbed it, pulling you in for another kiss. You relaxed under his grasp, but gently pulled away.
“You can’t just kiss me now every time you say something stupid.” You tried to sound firm, but your heart was turning to mush by the second.
He leaned in, kissing your cheek gently before resting his head on the crook of your neck.
“I am yours now, y/n. All my kisses belong to you now, so I have to deliver.”
“Hmm… I don’t know, I think I’m still gonna go for a dive with Aonung after this.” You teased, he lifted his head, looking at you in disbelief.
“Don’t even joke about that.” His voice serious, as you put a hand to your mouth, trying not to laugh.
“I’m kidding. I’m kidding. I’m yours, okay? I’m yours.”
[part 2!]
11K notes · View notes
itneverendshere · 2 months ago
Note
the way i can see rafe rolling his eyes when he hears you yell across a party for jj to knock it off in picking a fight, and laughs at jj when he listens to you, and is like an embarrassed little dog.
a perfect world where rafe realizes he and jj are the same person in different fonts <3 thank you for the request, i love jj in this lmao😭🩵
 you say you got it & you have to let me see - r.c
pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)
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The annual boneyard party was in full swing, and like clockwork, someone was trying to start shit.
You stood close to Rafe, your hand loosely gripping a beer bottle as you watched the mess unfold in front of you. "JJ!" you called out, voice loud and clear across the sand. "Knock it off!"
Rafe felt the corner of his mouth twitch, suppressing a grin. It wasn't even surprising anymore.
JJ Maybank—still the same hot-headed teen who grew up a few doors down from you—was in some guy's face, already half a second away from getting clocked.
His first instinct was to roll his eyes. Every year. Every damn year, JJ managed to start up some bullshit. Rafe glanced down at you, saw how your brow furrowed in annoyance, and the urge to laugh took over instead.
It was kind of funny, watching JJ go from ready to swing to immediately backing off the second you opened your mouth.
JJ turned like a kid caught stealing cookies from the jar, hands half-raised in defense as he looked at you with wide eyes. “Chill! I wasn’t even—”
"Yeah, yeah," you cut him off, pointing your beer in his direction. "Save it. Just walk away, okay?"
And, of course, he did.
Like a scolded puppy, he muttered something under his breath before shoving his hands into his pockets and trudging off. Rafe snorted, shaking his head. "Little brother still listens to you, huh?"
You shot him a look, half-smiling. "Someone's gotta keep him in line."
"Yeah, well," Rafe glanced at JJ’s retreating figure, still chuckling under his breath, "It's funny watching him tuck his tail between his legs every time."
He wasn’t usually one for parties like this anymore—too many reminders of who he used to be—but being here with you made it easier. You grounded him. Three years of dating, living together, dealing with life’s shitstorms, and somehow you still managed to make everything feel lighter.
You narrowed your eyes, “Don’t think you’re so different from him Mr. No one talks down to my girlfriend.”
Rafe’s grin widened, and he took a long sip from his beer, savoring the burn of the carbonation on his throat. You had him there. Not that he was gonna admit it. “That was different,” he drawled, flashing you a smirk.
“Uh-huh,” you said, arching an eyebrow. “How, exactly?”
He scratched at his jaw, the familiar prickle of stubble reminding him he hadn’t shaved in a few days. “I mean, I didn’t throw a punch every time. Just made it clear no one’s gonna talk shit.”
You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your lips twitched. “You’re lucky I love you, Cameron.”
Rafe’s heart did that stupid thing it always did when you said stuff like that, even after all these years. He could play it cool all he wanted, but you knew how to get to him. Always did.
“Yeah, I am,” he said, stepping a little closer, his body blocking the cool breeze coming off the ocean. He could smell the saltwater and smoke, but all he cared about was the warmth radiating from you. He took a swig of his beer, watching the flames from the bonfire dance against the night sky. “How many more times you think you’ll have to pull him out of a fight tonight?”
You tilted your head, thinking for a second before shrugging. “Depends on how much he’s had to drink.”
JJ was like a golden retriever sometimes—quick to rile up, but just as quick to bounce back. Rafe watched him for a second, the way he moved through the crowd, all ego and no direction. It reminded him of himself when he was younger. He chuckled, shaking his head.
“He’s gonna make it hard for me to take him seriously if you keep saving his ass.”
"Like you’ve ever taken him seriously," you shot back, giving him a playful shove.
True. Rafe couldn’t remember a single time in the last few years where JJ had been more than an annoyance. 
"God, it’s like he’s still twelve or something," you muttered, shaking your head. You took a step closer to him, your arm brushing his. The firelight flickered in your eyes, making you look impossibly warm.
The kind of warmth Rafe had gotten used to over the years. The kind he was lucky to have. He turned to face you, an easy smile forming on his lips. “Yeah, but at least it’s entertaining.”
You smirked. "For now. I give it an hour before he’s passed out in the sand."
He tilted his head, giving you a mock-serious look. “You wanna place a bet on that?”
You squinted at him like you were actually considering it. “What’s the wager?”
Rafe leaned in, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “Winner gets to pick what we do tomorrow.”
You raised an eyebrow, your smirk deepening. “And what exactly do you have in mind?”
He shrugged, trying to play it cool but knowing exactly what he’d want if he won. He could feel the stupid velvet box burning in his pocket. He carried it everywhere, hoping he’d man up and do it already. He couldn’t do it now—not here, not like this, not with JJ stumbling around somewhere in the background and the sound of half-drunk partygoers laughing around you.
“I don’t know. Maybe spend the day out on the boat. Just the two of us.”
“Alright, deal,” you said, holding out your hand for him to shake, “Sounds nice.”
Nice wasn’t even close to what he had in mind.
He took your hand, but instead of shaking it, he pulled you in closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. You let out a small laugh, leaning into him. The beer bottle in your hand dangled lazily at your side. You leaned up, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 
“You’re lucky you’re cute.”
Rafe let out a breathy chuckle, turning his head to capture your lips with his. The kiss was slow, lazy even, like there wasn’t a party around you. “Still think I’m cute, huh?” 
You gave him a look, lips curving into a shit-eating-grin. “When you’re not acting like JJ.”
He groaned, tipping his head back dramatically. “Don’t compare me to that fuckin' idiot.”
You just grinned, pulling away slightly, though your hand stayed on his chest. “Relax. You’re cuter, baby.”
“Damn right,” Rafe muttered, tugging you back to him. He liked having you close like this—reminded him that no matter how much shit had changed, some things stayed solid. You. Him. This.
He kissed the top of your head, breathing in the familiar scent of your hair, and let out a contented sigh. 
JJ had somehow found another beer, and as Rafe glanced his way, he saw Kie giving him a hard time, probably for almost getting into it earlier.
“You think they’ll ever figure it out?” you asked, following Rafe’s gaze.
“Who, JJ and Kie?” He shrugged, taking another sip of his beer. “Maybe. Probably not, though. They’re both too stubborn.”
You hummed in agreement, resting your head against his shoulder. “Sounds familiar.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, we turned out alright, didn’t we?”
You smiled up at him, the firelight dancing in your eyes. “Yeah, we did.”
Just as you and Rafe were starting to get lost in your own little world, a sudden shout cut through the noise of the party. Rafe glanced up and spotted JJ again, this time charging toward some guy who was standing way too close to Kie. 
Oh for fuck’s sake.
JJ's posture tense, fists clenched at his sides, and his voice already rising in that familiar way that screamed trouble. "Hey, man, back the fuck off!" He growled, pushing the guy away from Kie. The dude barely had time to react before JJ was already up in his face, looking like he was seconds away from throwing a punch.
"Jesus fucking Christ," Rafe muttered under his breath.
Without a second thought, he downed the last of his beer and started striding toward fight. You followed, a little concerned but mostly impressed by how quickly he handled it. He was always the one who kept things calm now—so different from his hot-headed younger days.
“Maybank!” Rafe’s voice boomed across the beach, and you could hear the change in tone.
He was done playing around.
JJ, too focused on trying to defend Kie’s honor, didn’t even hear him. Rafe didn’t hesitate. He grabbed him by the back of his shirt, pulling him away from the guy before anything could escalate further.
The younguer blonde whipped around, ready to argue, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Rafe. “Dude, I—”
“Start walking,” He hauled him a few feet away, practically dragging him while the other guy quickly disappeared into the crowd.
You couldn’t help but watch the way Rafe took control of the situation, handling JJ like a dad trying to wrangle a rowdy teenager. You could see the way he deflated in response. He’d grown to respect Rafe too much to keep pushing.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Rafe said, his grip still tight on JJ’s shirt. “You’re gonna get yourself knocked out one of these days if you don’t stop acting like you need to throw hands over every little thing.” JJ scowled but didn’t say anything, and Rafe shook his head, letting him go. “Seriously, Kie can handle herself. And if she needs backup, that’s what we are for—not you getting your ass handed to you every time some guy breathes in her direction.”
JJ kicked at the sand, muttering something under his breath, but he knew better than to argue. Rafe’s voice softened a little, seeing JJ’s shoulders slump. “Look, I get it. But not like this. Not here.”
He nodded once, reluctantly, and Rafe gave him a rough pat on the shoulder before turning back to you. He caught your eye, and you felt the pride bloom in your chest. The way he handled himself, the way he diffused situations—it wasn’t just about being strong anymore, it was about knowing how to lead, how to take care of the people he loved. And, honestly? It was a turn-on.
You couldn’t help the way your eyes lingered on him as he came back over to you. He looked so composed, so solid, and that arm of his, the way he pulled JJ back without breaking a sweat—it had your mind going places. Rafe raised an eyebrow at you, a playful smirk on his lips.
“What?” he asked, already knowing you were checking him out.
You stepped closer, trailing your fingers up his arm, feeling the strength in the way his muscles flexed beneath your touch.
“Nothing,” you murmured, biting your lip as your eyes met his. “Just proud of you.”
Rafe chuckled, his hand slipping around your waist, pulling you against him. “Proud, huh?”
“Mhm,” you whispered, pressing yourself closer, feeling the warmth of his body. “It’s kinda hot.”
“That what does it for you now? Me playing babysitter?”
You laughed softly, your hand still resting on his arm, fingers trailing along his bicep. “Not just that. The way you handled it. You’re just—”
Rafe’s hand slid down your back. “Just what?” he asked, his breath hot against your neck.
You bit your lip, feeling your heart pick up speed. "Strong.” You smirked, letting your hand slide lower, down the curve of his chest. “Kinda makes me wanna—”
He cut you off with a kiss, his mouth moving against yours with a kind of slow intensity that had you melting into him. His hand gripped you tighter, pulling you even closer, because he could never have enough of you. 
When he pulled back, his forehead pressed against yours, both of you a little breathless, he smirked down at you. “You keep talkin' like that, we might need to leave this party a little early.”
You grinned up at him, your arms wrapping around his neck. “Might not be the worst idea,” you teased, your voice low. “Think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.”
Rafe chuckled, his lips brushing against your forehead before he pulled away just enough to glance over his shoulder, making sure JJ wasn’t about to start up more trouble.
When he saw everything was calm, he turned back to you, “Let’s get outta here, baby.”
You didn’t need to be told twice.
He pulled you in close as you reached the car, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning down to press a lingering kiss to your lips, making your head spin all over again.
"You're somethin' else, you know that?" he whispered against your lips, his hands sliding up your back, fingers tracing patterns on your skin.
"Get in the car, Cameron.”
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blimpintime · 2 months ago
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jade green prologue
azriel x reader
in which Azriel has a personal healer, and she needs to be saved.
word count: 830 words
warnings: light angst, head injury, rhys is an asshole!
unedited
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Being a traveling healer meant a few things; one, knowing how to defend yourself is the most important thing next to healing. Two, paying attention to new science and healing techniques will always benefit you and your patient. Lastly, being kind to everyone you meet, will get you further than having people fear you. 
Well, for the most part. Sometimes defending yourself and staying kind contradict one another hence why you are running, no, rolling down a snowy mountain trying to outrun some bandits. 
The snow is wet and mushy, not quite the firm snow that Illriya gets further into the cold season, so you are having a hard time grasping anything to regain balance and stability. Your winter gear is starting to become soaked with the cold and wet ground you have been sliding in, and eventually, you are wet head to toe when you slide into a river with no way to slow yourself down or stop.
Your head reemerges from the frigid water rushing around you, face freezing and refreshed at the same time. The sky is a bright white reflecting off the snow on the mountain making it hard for you to see. At this point, you have no idea what direction you are even facing or heading towards, and your body is dropping its temperature rapidly. 
“Shit.” You manage to cough out, your bag of healing items now long gone in the river.
 You try swimming toward a branch you see floating near you but get swept by the current and smack your head on the branch instead, causing everything around you to go dark.
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There is not much that will get a reaction of Azriel but seeing one of his close friends (who he hasn’t seen in years)  floating lifeless in the Sidra was a scenario that made his stomach drop to his feet. 
He isn’t sure how he recognized you, floating face up in the water and blueish gray, but he is glad he did because he quickly shot down to where you were and ripped your frigid body out of the painfully cold water his hands going numb with pain. Your hair glowing around your face no doubt your healing abilities trying to save your body a little, but it is clearly having a hard time considering you still have a large gash on your forehead dripping sticky blood. 
He lifts your lifeless body into his strong arms and winnows to Madja’s healers’ cabin. He feels your pulse faintly but at least it is still there. A bit of panic flushes through his body when he realizes how long you have been in this state. And then anger washes over him, who could do this to someone so kind? He thinks harshly to himself.
Where are you, brother? A voice appears in his head, Not now Rhys. He responds sharply. 
Oh, at a pleasure house? Finally, taking up my advice? Don’t forget about family dinner. Rhysand quips back in a joking tone, to which Azriel blocks him out completely. 
He could not care less about family dinner more than he did right now. You limp in his arms freezing cold with blue lips and eyes faintly closed with what looked to be ice crystals around your lashes and eyebrows. You who have saved him from the brink of death on more than one occasion. You were all that mattered in this moment. 
When Madja finally helped you in, you were lying there with your chest softly rising on the bed. He couldn’t leave your side nor did he want to. 
“It is good you found her when you did,” Madja spoke to him. “She was getting to dangerous levels of freezing. Without her abilities, I am fairly certain her blood would have frozen.” 
Azriel winced and ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t even know what she was doing here. I have never met with her in Velaris.” He responded softly.
“You know her?” Madja asked in the same tone.
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat, “Long time friends.” 
She nodded in response. “She should wake when she is warm enough. If there is anything else I can do just yell for me, but I will be in my office.” With that, she walks off and closes the door gently.
Azriel for once does not know what to do, sitting there feels like a waste of time when he could be hunting those down who did this to you. However, he does not want you to wake up alone and confused.
Then he thinks about how he is expected to be at family dinner with his happily mated brothers and the girl he thought he was infatuated with. He felt guilty for a moment thinking about his family being happy when you were lying here lifeless, but then felt anger towards someone he calls a brother. A pleasure house? He scoffs verbally. His soul aches for companionship but right now all that matters is when you wake up. 
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a/n: it is a little guy but welcome to the prologue!
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teatreeoilll · 10 months ago
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����𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐭 - (𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)
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˚• . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • .
w/c - 1.3k content - MDNI! fem!reader, porn, Gojo fingering you in a bathroom after a concert, my intrusive thoughts about Gojo's hands won
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You inhale the cloud of smoke lingering around you, mixed with the tinge of cheap beer and light strokes of cologne, "Here!" You yell at Utahime, pushing through the crowd of people already standing on the cigarette butt-littered grass, "That's a great spot - look how close we are!" You point to the stage, wheezing with excitement.
You shove your bag into her hands, "Guard this with your life," you order, to which Utahime chastises, "Off to the bathroom again? You should stop drinking now; once they start playing, there's not gonna be any bathroom breaks."
The line to the bathroom stretches out for what feels like miles, and by the time you get back to your spot, Utahime's busy chatting up a couple of men.
"Not wasting any time, are you?"
"Oh god no," Utahime retorts, "That's Geto Suguru, we take Professor Yaga's class together," she smiles, pointing to the dark-haired man standing before her, "and that's," her lips twitch, the smile leaving the corners of her eyes, "Gojo Satoru."
The crowd erupts into applause, and the men turn their attention to the stage. Under your breath you mutter a quiet fuck; Before you stands not a man, but a 6'3 colossal giant, sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose like the sky hadn't grown dark half an hour ago. The stage lights up, and the band appears - or at least you thought that's what happened since now, you couldn't see shit.
Your turn to Utahime, who shares the same concerned look as you, standing on her toes but somehow managing to see over Geto's shoulders. You point your thumb at Gojo, mouthing, "I can't see."
"Hey, beanpole!" Utahime shouts over the band's introductions, "Switch with her!"
Gojo leans back, smirking at her, "Utahime," he reprimands like he's trying to teach his dog not to chew on the carpet, "that's not a nice way to ask."
Utahime's face flushes red, fists clenching as she tries to shout at the unbothered man over the noise. You place a calming hand on her shoulder, giving her a resolute nod; I'll handle this.
You stare at the broad back in front of you, eyes fixed straight at his shoulder blades as you tap an impatient index finger on them, "Excuse me," you say, a coy smile plastered on your lips, "Would you mind switching places with me?"
He does another half-turn, catching a glimpse of Utahime's menacing gaze as he does so, "What did you say?" He lowers his sunglasses, light blue eyes piercing through you, "Can't hear you!" He motions to his ear.
You take a deep breath, lifting yourself up on the tips of your toes to draw closer to his face, "Switch places with me!"
"Ditch this place with you?" Gojo furrows his brows, looking at you with sarcastic sympathy as you steady yourself by grabbing his shoulder, "We've only just met~"
"No!" You yelled, "Switch - places!" Barely any air left in your lungs as you become aware of how firm his shoulders felt under your fingertips.
"Sweet embraces?" He tries to retain his expression at the tickle your breath sent huffing down his neck, "Listen, it's not personal, but usually I get invited to dinner first."
"You're fucking with me, aren't you?" You let out a sigh, your raspy voice lowering its tone; what a prick.
He inches towards you, heat rising to your face when he halts a breath away from your lips, "Later, hopefully."
-
"F-Fuck - In here?" You break away from Gojo's lips for a moment, glancing at the entrance to the men's bathroom.
"Isn't that why they put bathrooms here?" He chuckles, one arm running up from your waist to grab the nape of your neck, grazing his lips softly over yours before biting down on your lower lip, listening to you hum in agreement as his tongue dips into your mouth.
His hand travels up your thigh, raising the hem of your skirt as he puts a large palm to squeeze on your ass, the groan leaving his lips vibrating through your mouth. Gojo presses you against the door, one large arm pushing it in to open the stall, and you stumble back onto the (thankfully) closed toilet seat.
“Getting comfortable, princess?” He smirks, large hands leaning on the wall behind you, trapping you under his body as it looms over you, enjoying the sight of your flushed face, “Switch places?” He suggests.
“I’m sorry,” you motion to your ear, a devilish grin forming on your lips, “I can’t hear you.”
“Funny,” he snarls, pale, veiny arms leaving the wall as he gets on his knees before you to push your legs apart, letting his long fingers graze your inner thighs, his breath hitching every time he elicits a slight twitch from your legs, “Let’s see how funny you’ll be in a minute.”
Two thick fingers push your panties to the side before slipping into your already soaked cunt, the lewd noises and deep grunts dazzling your mind as you watch his pale blue eyes rest on your face, his breaths getting heavier the more muffled whimpers escape your mouth.
“Fuuuck,” he drawls, fingers still pumping into you as he leans into your cunt, tongue licking a teasing stripe over your clit, "Taste so good, princess," his head grows dizzy at the taste while he rubs his other hand over the bulge in his jeans.
“Ah - mhm -“ you can barely stop the breathy moans, your hand shooting out to grab onto white strands of hair, prompting him to slowly lick up your pussy once more, “God - fuck,” his fingers curl upwards inside you, hitting the spot that made you buck your hips against his head.
“Not so funny now, huh princess?” He felt the grip on his hair tighten, needy palm desperately rubbing over his clothed cock, glazed eyes fixed on your twitching pussy, "You close, baby?" And you only let out a breathless pant at his words, coil tightening in your stomach.
"Can't hear you~" He cooed, fingers leaving your wetness to brush over your clit, and you gasp at the sudden emptiness forming in your needy hole - "G-Gojo -" you beg, voice cracking when you grab his forearm to guide it back into your folds, "Fuck -" you mutter when his arm refuses to budge.
"Satoru," he corrects, "ask nicely, princess," he says, hands traveling down to unzip his trousers, freeing his throbbing cock from the confines of his jeans, tip already red and leaking as he works his length up and down to the sound of your pleading, "Please - 'Toru -" you pull on his arm again, "Plea-"
He wished he could tease you for longer, but the way you writhed under his touch and rasped his name was rapidly driving him over the edge. His fingers glide back inside, "Shit -" he grunts at the feeling of your walls enveloping his thick digits, pulsating against them as he pumps them over and over into your sweet spot, "Keep saying my name, princess," he orders, chest heaving as he tightens his fist around his cock.
"'Toru -" your body jolts at his pace, his thumb skimming over your clit, "Toru - ah - " you moan, back arching and tears pooling at the corners of your eyes as you tug harshly on his hair, shockwaves coursing through your body. With glazed eyes, you watch him pull out his fingers, eagerly putting them into his mouth as he spills his load on the tiles beneath him with a hoarse moan.
"Good girl," the words fall out of his lips, and he watches your cunt twitch at the phrase, "How about I give you a ride home, huh?"
-
"Didn't know you wear such dainty underwear, Satoru," Geto remarks, pulling your panties out from beneath the passenger seat, inspecting them as he sips his morning coffee.
"Well, you never asked." Gojo chuckles.
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upsidedownwithsteve · 9 months ago
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A soulmate AU: Steve Harrington x fem!reader [2.6K]
THE TIMELINE
“Love is born into every human being; it calls back the halves of our original nature together; it tries to make one out of two and heal the wound of human nature. Each of us, then, is a ‘matching half’ of a human whole…and each of us is always seeking the half that matches him.”
- Aristophanes, Plato’s Symposium.
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I. ATHENS, GREECE: 8TH CENTURY BC
The gods were angry.
Or so you’d heard. It started with whispers. Murmurs from the town and its people. Rumours spread across Athens the same way the breeze did at the start of summer. They said the gods were angry, furious.
How could the mortals be so silly? How could they possibly rile their gods like this? Again?
Stupid humans, foolish humans.
You didn’t understand.
But then one morning before the sun rose, you awoke to a reddened sky and a heavy wind, a storm brewing over the horizon, a dark mass you could see above the sea from your bedroom window. Preachers took to the streets then, standing on the cobbles with bells ringing above their heads, warning every person listening about the end of times. It had happened before, they said, their faces masks of horror. It was happening again.
The gardens all died, grass turning black, crops to dust, life fleeing from the ocean as Poseidon uprooted the seafloor, waves crashing against the cliff's edge. Athens turned to decay, colour slipping from the world as the gods ruled over it from the skies and sea. A punishment fit for the crime, the elders said, telling stories at the marketplace, of how their own grandparents had once been born together, joined at the heart, four arms and four legs.
One soul.
They said Zeus came from Olympus, that he’d crashed down to earth riding a bolt of lightning and he ripped the mortals apart. They said it was a bloodshed, rivers of red running through the plazas, wells turning thick like tar.
Zeus cursed everyone, you heard. Your kind had been getting too prideful, too full of ego and greed and want for more. The gods feared an uprising, they sat on their thrones and they resented to power you all craved.
So they did something about it.
With their wounds left to heal on their own over months and years, each half of a mortal was thrown to different corners of the earth, destined to spend the rest of their lives searching for the other half of their soul.
It seemed nothing more than a fable, a horror story for children, something you would never have believed. Soulmates? Someone made just for you? An impossible notion, you were sure you would have once thought, if you hadn’t already met yours.
He was at the forge when the first bolt of lightning hit the ground.
The concrete split and temples on the cliff sides shook, the tiles on each home shattering as they fell. You heard people yelling from your garden as the ground shuddered and an eerie quiet followed. A hollow silence, a calm before a storm and then something else hit the ground too.
Bigger, heavier, more powerful.
You dropped your basket and ran.
Still barefoot, you left the sodden clothes on the grass and fled, passing the sanctuary of your home, the temples beyond the rivers, the forests that came before the sea. You ran to the plaza, through the marketplace that was buzzing with fear, shoulders burning with pain as you slammed your way past everyone who ran against you. You were battling a tidal wave of townsfolk, each one crying and yelling.
You heard shouts of Titans! Furies!
People yelled out names they once didn’t dare whisper, each word said like a curse. Cronus, Crius, Oceanus, Thea. Standing on the marble steps of the Parthenon, a preacher in guided robes had blood running down the side of his face, a cut on his head matting his greying hair. He was ashen, clutching at his scribes and shouting at the frenzied crowd below.
“Tartarus has risen!” He yelled, “the gates of Hades have opened and we, foolish mortals, shall pay for our sins! The father of gods shall come for us, he shall feast upon thy flesh and bone and—”
The preacher's harrowing words were cut off abruptly as another crack in the earth opened up. The shining marble split and the man fell through, the world itself swallowing him whole. You didn’t have time to react more than a strangled cry coming from somewhere deep in your chest. You clasped your hand to your mouth, fearing you’d lose your breakfast, that you’d become too dizzy to keep moving.
The ocean was growing closer, too tall waves and swirling, dark pools buried into its depths. Ships were being sucked under, their white sails the last thing you saw before they were swallowed by Poseidon’s fury. A golden chariot raced down from the sky, sparks flying in the air as it landed on the roof of the Acropolis. More marble shattered and Ares, the god of war, had landed on earth to do his duty.
By the time you reached the forge, the plaza was running red, just like the elders had said it would. The bronzed statue of Hephaestus that guarded the entrance to the blacksmiths had come to life, the god himself taking its form as he spewed fire across the village, molten heat and steel dripping from his large hands, coal crumbling at his feet. The air smelled like ash, like fire and death.
As you searched for him - your other half - eyes wide and frantic, your chest heaving, Hades stood in the shadows across the cobbled road. Inky black dripped from him, from his robes, his skin, his mouth. He looked ghoulish until he stepped into what was left of the daylight, a trick of the sun turning his gaunt face handsome. He grinned at you, each tooth pointed and sharp and he held out a hand. A pomegranate was placed in his palm, the fruit cracked open and the ruby seeds spilling out of it like tiny jewels. He beckoned you, a voice in your head whispering, silky, sultry, full of promises that couldn’t be real.
Surely eternal damnation was better than a fate like this?
You moved, your body not your own, one foot in front of the other, your hand outstretched. Images flashed through your head, dark swirls of three headed dogs, rivers made of souls and gates of bones. But when they opened, there was a garden, more beautiful than the ones in Athens, with their marble pillars and fountains that led into ponds. In this garden, temples stood gleaming and tall, with maidens dancing amongst rose bushes, naked and with hair to their waists. They waved to you, more scarlet coloured fruit held in their hands and they were laughing, singing, pulling you closer--
Another bolt of lightning - bigger and louder and brighter than before - hit the ground and the maidens disappeared. The god of the underworld grinned once more before he stepped back into the shadows and turned to smoke, melting into the bloodied ground.
Zeus had landed in Athens.
And you couldn’t find Steve.
Steve Harrington, son of the town’s head blacksmith, was tending to the forge when the first god came to earth. He’d left you in bed, the threadbare sheets around you still warm, your skin littered with his leftover kisses, marks from his greedy fingers the night before. The sky had been scarlet when he walked across the plaza and in the far distance, a plume of smoke rose from what seemed like the ocean. The Methana volcano was simmering, waiting, spewing fumes of gas and dust.
A warning.
The forge cracked when Zeus arrived, the bricks splitting along with the forge floor, cobbles and bricks turning to rubble under the men’s feet. Fire and coal tumbled from the cast iron cages, half made swords of burning steel falling at their feet. The sky above rumbled, the windows shattering as bolts of lightning hit the land and people screamed, torturous sounds that made Steve run blindly out into the plaza.
Some were kneeling, their heads bent and their palms open to the sky, to the gods. A sacrifice that was ignored. Others ran, diving into buildings that immediately fell on top of them and Steve watched in horror as people dropped before him, falling like sacks, crumpled to the ground as they clutched their chests in agony. They called out their lovers' names, their voices hoarse, pleading, desperate and all at once, a crowd surged behind Steve, carrying him with them, his shoulders burning at the momentum.
He had to find you.
The market was in ruins, once fresh vegetables and fruits now smashed into the concrete, the smell of baked bread hidden under burning embers. Panicked horses fled their owners and carts, almost knocking Steve to the ground as they tried to escape the carnage. The sea level was rising, the shadows of boat sails towering over marble buildings, the hulls of ships teetering closer to pillars that once held the statues of the gods now seeking revenge. Steve had been raised to honour them, to covet them, to fear them.
And he’d never felt as scared as he did when he spotted you across the square, eyes wide and not yet finding his, your gaze too trained on the statue of Aphrodite that was crashing down too close to you. The white marble hit the floor and shattered, sending clouds of dust and dirt into the already smoke filled air and you disappeared from Steve’s sight once more.
Panic flooded him, a fear like no other and suddenly the gods that reigned from the seas and skies didn’t seem as terrifying anymore.
He yelled your name, choking on the fumes from the fires that had started to rage all around, Hephaestus riding a cloud of black coals and burning embers as he let fire pour from his palms and open mouth, a gaping maw of molten lava that dripped from and melted everything and everyone it touched. Steve flung himself to the ground to avoid the flames, crawling desperately forward before he caught himself and began to run again, hissing as the gaps in his shoes filled with shards of broken stone. Red poured from the soles of his feet but he didn’t think anything could hurt as much as the thought of losing you.
Again, he screamed for you, the letters of your name hitching in his throat, scratching like glass and more people tore in front of his path, running from the destruction. Bodies fell before him, couples forever trapped in a lovers embrace, their faces hidden in each other's chests. They became one again, four arms, four legs, two faces.
Joined at a heart that was no longer beating.
Steve didn’t want to die without you.
He found you in the rubble as Zeus moved closer, a grey and white shadow of a man, a huge hulking figure that didn’t seem real. He didn’t look like his marble castings, the statues that were gilded with gold leaf. He wore no olive laurel on his head, he bore no kind smile nor gentle eyes. Instead he held bolts of lightning in his hands like swords, like spears, throwing them at his victims with cruel precision.
A storm followed him, bigger than anything Steve had ever seen before. It turned the red clouds above the god purple and black, an inky slurry of darkness and electricity crackled between spaces. The air buzzed and Steve’s skin prickled, the static making his ripped and bloodied shirt cling to his damp chest.
Poseidon had finally shown himself, emerging from the waves, his skin a sickly green, his eyes darker than the deepest depths of the sea he came from. He held a triton, seaweed hanging from its points, his body scarred and battered from the horrors he created in the oceans. He seemed too big, a giant, an almost titan and rain poured from Zeus’ purple clouds as he advanced onto Athens.
Steve saw your arm, a limp hand from beneath a pile of stone and he cried as he lifted each piece of what was once Aphrodite. The marble face of the goddess of love smiled warmly at him and it felt mocking, it felt like an arrow to the chest.
You were still alive, barely awake, nose dripping blood and a slice across your forehead that narrowly missed your eye. You cried when Steve pulled you free, his strong arms wrapped around your torso and you clung to him, barely daring to look at the horrors that surrounded you. He smelled like smoke and fire and the metal sting of blood, but under it all, there was something like home that still lay on his skin.
He seemed frantic, calling your name over and over until you nodded and said his back, like it was only upon hearing your voice that he believed you were alive. Steve sat amongst the debris of Aphrodite and held you, your weak frame pulled into his lap and he cradled you there, your head on his shoulder and your arms around his neck.
You weren’t sure what you coveted more fiercely, the young man or your last breath.
A shadow lingered nearby, listening to the soft murmurs you shared the pretty lies you both needed to hear as you told each other it would be okay. Hades stood close, statuesque and with black plumes at the bottom of his dark robes, a midnight blue cast over his skin. He looked like he’d never been close to looking human. He held a timepiece in one hand, a golden thing that ticked too loudly and he grinned at you and Steve, watching, waiting as two creatures by his feet held scrolls of names. They were made od nothing kind, created from bone and other people’s spines, their too long tails and forked tongues that flickered over the skin of the dead as they sent their souls below.
Steve knew he’d fight a god before he let them take you.
But he didn’t get such the luxury of battling for his lover. Zeus moved closer still, rain pouring harder, electricity making his hair stand on end. The father of gods himself stood tall before you both, his eyes as white as his long hair and beard. Nothing about him softened as he gazed down at you both intertwined, blood from each other staining your lover's skin.
Steve pulled you closer, his hand cupping the nape of your neck as he pushed your face to his throat, shielding you, protecting you. You clung to him tighter, hands fisting in the rags of his old shirt and you wondered if you’d ever get to see him again. If this life was it, if this was all you were allowed.
The two of you in the ruins of Athens, the goddess of love shattered at your feet. Four legs, four arms, two faces, one soul. Connected by a heart that seemed weaker than ever in the presence of something cruel.
Silence came before the crack, the world stilling, Athens at peace. You found solace in Steve, your nose pressed to his neck as you held onto him, praying for something painless. You pushed two kisses to his skin then, the side of his throat that seemed to make your lips fizz and Steve sucked in a breath, his lips at your temple, cherishing the last touch he got of you.
“I love you,” Steve whispered and his voice cracked on each word. Tears from his eyes stream the dirt on his face, running rivers down your cheek until they mixed with your own. “I’ll find you again. In the next life, and the next again. I prom—”
A bolt of lightning, so hot it felt frozen, struck the breath of space between your chests. Something inside of you cracked then, ribs splintering as the weapon found your heart and you couldn’t feel Steve’s arms around you anymore.
You couldn’t feel anything.
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hypewinter · 1 year ago
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The boy had fallen out of the sky. To be more exact, he had fallen out of a portal that had opened in the sky. He then proceeded to land face first next to Batman. As he looked up to see everyone gathering around him, he tried to speak. It was a weird cacophonous sound, a garble that was a mix between static and echoes. Everyone covered their eyes and Nightwing yelled out, "We can't understand you!"
Just like that the cacophony stopped. Everyone uncovered their ears as the boy whispered, "Sorry."
Now that he was sitting up, they were able to get a good look at him. The boy from had Lazarus green eyes and starch white hair that did not obey gravity. His body also has an ethereal glow to it. Everything was a blur after that. They ended up bringing the boy back to the cave when they noticed he was bleeding profusely. Batman wanted to bring him to a hospital instead but he got so panicked when that idea was mentioned and looked like he was about to bolt, so the cave it was.
The boy had barely maintained consciousness as he babbled on about getting away from someone and hoping they would let him stay for a few days to recover. As he rambled, Alfred began peeling back his styled hazmat suit to reveal everyone a sickening Y shaped scar running down his torso which oozed a distinct green color. Alfred had patched him up as quickly and steadily as possible, being guided through how to do it from the boy himself. Apparently whatever his physiology was, it didn't work like a human's. Soon after he was patched up, the boy (Danny as they found out) lost consciousness.
The boy in front of them completely changed after white rings had formed around him. His white hair was now raven black, his skin had taken on a healthy tan, his stylized suit had become a T-shirt and jeans, his blood turned red. By all accounts, this was not the same unknown they had just saved. Unless?
"Do you think he's similar to the Martians?" Tim asked.
Everyone turned to him, their gears already turning. Nevertheless, Batman spoke. "Explain," he said.
"Well you know, how they can change themselves to blend in. And he was talking about hiding from someone. What if he, I don't know, decided to just try to blend in with us."
Dick piped up next. "I mean, considering how many of us are running around, it wouldn't be hard. And look at his face. It's the perfect mix of all of us. He probably decided the best way to fit in would be to look a little bit like all of us. It'd be the best way to throw off his pursuer."
"Or pursuers," Jason cut in.
"And how can we be sure he stopped at just faces?" Damian inquired.
Now everyone was looking at him.
The former assassin puffed out his chest but it was clear from the slight rigidness of his stance that he didn't like everyone's attention on him.
"Tch. I am simply stating that if he truly wanted to blend in with us, he might as well copy our mannerisms as well. He has already copied our speech."
That was true. He had easily switched his speech once Dick had started talking. Of course they couldn't rule out the potential that he had simply known the language beforehand but considering how many aliens Earth got that could instantly adopt a new language, the former theory held more ground.
"Hmm. That may be true. Naturally we'll do our best to hide him from any pursuers. But-"
"Don't you mean you'll do your best to convince him to let you adopt him?" Steph interrupted with a cheeky grin.
"But," Bruce continued on, "we will need to make sure he doesn't imprint on us too much. We'll encourage him to be his own person and try out things that he enjoys so that when all of this is over, he can live independently of us. That being said, I want you all on your best behavior. We want to try to ingrain as many healthy behaviors into him as possible. That means no threats, no violence, no unhealthy sleeping habits, and no extreme intakes of coffee. And I clear?"
There were various mumbles and groans throughout the group and one particularly indignant squawk from Tim. "I said am I clear?" Bruce repeat. The group answered yes in unison. "Good. Then dismissed."
Everyone filed out of the cave one by one. Some went back to their own home and safehouses. Some hit the showers. And some headed straight upstairs. Finally there was only Bruce left. He looked down at Danny still sound asleep on the table. Making sure this boy was protected and cared for for while also making sure he didn't get too attached and therefore dependent on everyone was better said than done. Still, Bruce would make it happen, after all, he was Batman.
I got this idea from the lovely @damngirlidk . Truly a great idea.
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musaslullaby · 2 months ago
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The night has only just begun
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Max Verstappen x fem reader
Summary: Max becomes jealous when he sees you talking to another man.
Warning: NSFW, +18, you are responsible for what you read.
Masterlist
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I've always loved being around people. Parties, interviews, or simply going out to dinner were a way to clear my head from eternal melancholy.
The limousine sped through the empty streets of Monaco. The only lights visible through the tinted windows were those of the beautiful stars, shining independently in the sky. They’ve always inspired a sense of trust in me, and now, after years of hard work, I can happily consider myself one of them.
"Schatje, are you ready?" Max asked, placing his hand on my leg, covered by the expensive blue dress that sparkled under the moonlight.
"I'm always ready. Perhaps I should ask you if you are." My mischievous smile caused an adorable chuckle from Max, who gently stroked me before stepping out of the car. Like a true gentleman, he opened the door for me, and only at that moment did my eyes wander over his entire body, perfectly framed by a black tuxedo as dark as the night, which highlighted his light blue eyes.
He extended his hand toward me with an elegant gesture while a brilliant, sincere smile adorned his features. His expression was relaxed, genuinely happy, and it made me smile involuntarily. I loved seeing him so at ease, especially because it was rare—during races, he often showed his worst side.
I gently placed my hand in his, which was larger than mine. It felt reassuring as we walked down that red carpet; his presence was warm and calm, in stark contrast to the continuous flashes of the journalists' cameras blinding us. Even the sky seemed to hide its beloved stars from those equally bright machines.
When we entered the venue, the lights were dim, a soft murmur lingered in the background, and waiters constantly passed by with glasses of sparkling wine. Occasionally, you could notice a dark wooden table surrounded by Ferrari-red couches.
My eyes darted around, scanning every person, and they casually caught sight of blonde hair. In an instant, I left Max's side, diving into that ocean of important people, dressed like kings and queens. When I got close enough, I recognized that boy. I knew my eyes weren’t deceiving me. "If I’m not mistaken, this is the scent of…" I said, stopping, resting my hand on my chin as I pretended to think. "Ah yes, it’s the new Giorgio Armani fragrance?"
The boy turned to me with wide eyes. "I can’t believe it, Y/N, how long has it been!"
"Too long!" I whispered, laughing, as we hugged, fearing we’d lose each other again.
"So, how’s it going?" he asked, his bright smile so contagious that I felt a facial paralysis coming on.
"Everything’s fine, thanks," I replied kindly, my voice slightly sweetened.
I had no idea how much time had passed since we started talking, but the only thing I knew was that he hadn’t changed: he was still the same goofy boy as always, and in some ways, that was reassuring. As caught up as we were in the conversation, I completely ignored the phone going crazy with calls and messages. By then, my handbag was vibrating every three seconds.
A laugh erupted from the back of my throat; I loved his humor and jokes, but I didn’t even have time to reply before I felt a deadly grip on my wrist, being yanked from the conversation without realizing it.
"That's enough," Max whispered through clenched teeth, his jaw tight.
"Stop it!" I yelled, trying to resist, drawing the attention of those around us, who suddenly stopped talking. Couldn’t they mind their own business?
"Will you explain what’s wrong with you?" I asked, stumbling as he let go, shoving me violently against the bathroom wall.
"What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me?" His anger was evident; I could see it in his eyes, but beyond that, I saw something else… sadness? Melancholy? No, that wasn’t it. Something deeper, perhaps?
"I’m not the one who was eyeing another man," he continued, almost shouting, his voice filled with frustration and repressed feelings.
"What are you talking about? You know I only have eyes for you," I whispered, a slight sense of guilt starting to weigh on me, causing me to lower my gaze.
"Good, liefde, then prove it," he said, pressing his face against mine. I felt his warm breath brushing my lips and his mischievous grin. Ah, that’s what had been in his eyes earlier: lust.
With my cheeks flushed pink, I made the first move, throwing myself onto his slightly chapped lips. Max knew me too well; I would never back down from his provocations.
His hands gripped my hips in a firm hold, pulling me against his body. His teeth sank into my lips, asserting his dominance.
Involuntarily, I let out a sharp squeal, which earned an approving sound from Max. His kisses moved down to my exposed neck, biting and sucking the sensitive spots he knew all too well.
When he pulled away, I ran my hand over the purple and red marks he had left on me. A shiver of excitement shot down my spine as Max seductively licked his lips.
"Kneel," he ordered in a firm, authoritative voice, as he unbuttoned his pants.
With a subdued nod, I knelt before him, noticing the bulge in his pants. When I saw his member freed from its restraints in front of my face, I felt a sharp pang of pleasure deep in my core. Without hesitation, I took him into my mouth, swirling my tongue around him. I could hear his muffled grunts under my touch, and the heat he caused throughout my body was heavenly.
"Damn…" His hands found a grip in my hair, tugging to push deeper into his sex. My cheeks flushed red as he completely controlled the rhythm. Gag reflexes took over my body, feeling his member contract and the veins growing rigid. Suddenly, I noticed the pace increasing, although sloppier, and after two more thrusts, Max released himself into my throat.
"Swallow it all, I don’t want to see a drop," he whispered, pulling me up by my hair. His cheeks were flushed pink, and sweat dripped down his forehead.
He was incredibly sexy. With a seductive movement, I placed my hands on his chest, letting his expensive jacket fall to the ground. The white shirt clung to his body from the sweat, revealing his sculpted abs.
Max dropped the authoritative act for a moment, planting a sweet, wet kiss on my lips, tasting himself, before returning to the Max from before.
Without effort, he lifted me into his arms, playing with the edge of my panties, slightly pushing them aside, brushing against my swollen, already wet lips.
"You're already ready for me, schatje? Pathetic," he whispered with a mischievous laugh on my lips, and his closeness definitely wasn’t helping.
Quickly, he aligned himself with my entrance and penetrated me, our ragged breaths mingling together. I could feel every part of him inside me, every small movement and his overwhelming heat. He didn’t wait a second before hammering into me at an inhuman pace. I was sure my screams could be heard throughout the club.
He was consistent, hard, and fast. No second thoughts or hesitation, his movements were precise and sure. I buried my face in his neck while he grunted, throwing his head back in pleasure.
The tip of his member hit my g-spot, making me melt like cream in his hands. I could no longer think straight. A warmth crept into my lower abdomen, and with each thrust, it became more intense and taut until it finally snapped, accompanied by a scream carrying his name in a vulgarly melodious way.
"He would never make you scream the way I do," he said between grunts, pushing even deeper, losing energy as he went.
After a few more thrusts, he reached the height of pleasure and came inside me with a stifled groan, muffled by a kiss full of sweetness and lust, mixed in a perfect cocktail.
Sweat dripped down his face as he lovingly pressed his forehead against mine.
"I love you, schatje," he whispered against my lips in a soft voice, planting a few kisses on my face.
"I love you too, especially when you're jealous," I said with a playful smile, grazing his earlobe with my teeth, making him shiver at the contact.
"Ready for the next round?" he said with a mischievous smirk, running his fingers down my back, exposed by the low cut of my dress.
"The night has only just begun..." I whispered, laughing softly as I gently caressed his cheek, my heart beating faster knowing what awaited me.
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