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murdrdocs · 3 months

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FOOLISH LOVERS. luke castellan

description. luke castellan has betrayed camp half blood. luke castellan has made an enemy out of those around you. and unfortunately, luke castellan has always held a place in your heart that you can't close off. at least, not until you meet with him one final time.

includes. SMUT 18+, fem!reader, daughter of hypnos reader, oral (f and m receiving), brief anal rimming (f receiving), implied p n v, dreamscape sex again, angst galore, some arguing, references to pjo ep 8. inspo from wicked game by chris isaak

wc: 5.8k+

a/n: a dreamcatcher: daughter of the god of dreams installment.

Before you can realize the change, you’re standing on a hill.

It takes you a second to notice, but the area is much like your dreamscape. Low, waving blades of grass that travel through the air with the wind brushing against your bare ankles. The ocean is loud and to your right, down beneath a steep cliff. From just a quick glance, you see a storm brewing off into the distance. The water swirls angrily as if it’s ready to disrupt anything that dares to come into its path.

You can’t help but think about the betrayed son of the sea god back in reality who surely feels the same.

When you take your eyes away from the entrancing scenery of the ocean, you notice a cabin directly in front of you. It’s small, and made from long wooden logs, although there isn’t a forest nearby to identify the source of the frame. The exterior is slightly shabby, appearing manmade with a few imperfections.

It’s not on a comparable scale to the cabins back at Camp Half-Blood, but something about it feels cozy. It gives implications of a simpler life. Maybe what summer camp could have been if you weren’t the offspring of a god.

That and the clouds rumbling with warnings of an approaching storm is what encourages you to seek refuge in the four walls.

Step by step, you don’t fail to notice how a focus subject has yet to appear.

Your hand wraps around the doorknob and you push the slab of wood open as you wonder who’s dream you could have been pulled into tonight.

You haven’t even stepped foot over the threshold, you have started to convince yourself that this is the dream of the son of the sea god, and then someone speaks.

“Hey.”

You stop.

Your foot hovers for a second before you place it back beside the other.

That voice. You hadn’t heard it for months now, but you know it. Day after day, you lay at night with your eyes closed, cementing the memory of the way he spoke and how he sounded as he laughed at your jokes into your mind. Forcing yourself to recall the inflections in his tone as he teased you, and how his words flattened out and got hard when he gave orders to yourself and others. And then, completely involuntarily, you would force yourself to pick through every single intonation and word that you could remember, attempting to find signs. Any hints or clues that Luke Castellan wasn’t the person he made himself out to be.

Each night, you grapple with the fact that you couldn’t find any clues. You tried to reconcile with your blindness, all while telling yourself that you could have attempted to prevent it all.

But hearing his voice now, none of that returns. Unexpectedly, your body floods with warmth.

Luke sits on a small loveseat. The shape of it is a bit of a blur at first, but you blink and it cleans up to present a busy patterned textile couch. It’s well loved, there are a few tears in the bottom of the fabric at the back, and if you’re smelling it correctly, there’s a slight waft of cigarette smoke.

Strangely enough, it’s inviting.

You hate to admit it to yourself, but the boy sitting at one end of it makes it even more inviting.

You step into the cabin and close the door behind you.

“Hey, Luke.”

He turns around to face you at the sound of your voice. You sound stronger than you expected. More casual, too.

You realize that he’d been looking out a large set of windows before facing you. There’s only two but they take up most of the small wall. Outside is a perfect view of the land you’d just come from; bright green grass in the foreground and deep blue salt water off into the distance.

Luke stares at you.

The cabin is a little dark—there’s a lamp in the far corner that illuminates the room, washing out the otherwise blue light from outside—but you think his eyes are shining. As if there’s unshed tears barely held within them.

He smiles at you. It’s soft and almost mournful.

You should leave.

You shouldn’t be fraternizing with Luke at all, even if it is within a dreamscape. You couldn’t trust yourself in a room with him, especially with the things the two of you used to do when you were in dreamscapes alone.

Just looking at him reminds you of all of those times. Sweat sticking his hair to his forehead. The feeling of his muscles beneath your inquisitive hands. The deep and smooth sound of his voice. The way everything felt so real and so tangible as he rocked into you, and then as euphoria swept over your bodies you felt so infinite and surreal.

Your teeth find your lower lip. Your body urges you to get closer to Luke. Stubbornly, you stay in your spot.

“What d’you think?” He lifts a finger and circles it around in the air. Your eyes lift and you finally take in the rest of the cabin.

The main room is spacious, but comfortable. Lightly furnished with hardwood floors. Though almost every surface is covered in some sort of rug, most of them persian. There’s a small kitchen to your left, and then the living area that Luke sits in on the right. There’s a few bookshelves but there aren’t many books on them, and there’s a fireplace that looks to have never been used before. A few picture frames sit on the mantle of the fireplace, but from afar they just appear to be showcasing blobs of people without any distinctive features to identify an identity.

Admittedly, for this to be the created dreamscape of the son of a messenger, it’s impressive.

You tell him as such.

This time, Luke’s smile is appreciative.

“Means a lot coming from you. Especially with the things you can create.”

Your skin heats up and you block the memories out of your head before they can firmly cement themselves once more.

“You might have me beat, Castellan. Giving me a run for my money.”

You don’t know why you decide to fall into the old routine with him. Maybe it’s because you can’t push Luke away for the life of you. He was once your friend and so much more at the same time. It’s impossible for you to completely forget the times you shared together.

Maybe it’s the home making you feel this way.

How comfortable it feels. How protective it is.

You’ve spent weeks pulled into unfortunate dreams. Nightmares have plagued even the toughest minds of Camp Half Blood as of late, and you’ve been unable to fortify your own mind enough to prevent slipping into the mind of others. Which has left you to fight against unbeatable monsters, fortify the barriers of Camp only to have them knocked down by Zeus over and over again, watch those you love die in horrible battles, and much much more.

In comparison, there is the possibility of a simple conversation with Luke Castellan giving you what you’d been desperately missing even if you wouldn’t admit it to yourself: Luke’s company.

It’s how you reason with yourself whenever you take a seat atop the cushion of the couch. Instantly, it feels as if you’ve never truly known comfort before. This couch conforms to the curves of your body. You lean back against it, pull your feet up with you, and you quickly decide to stay a little while longer.

Up close, Luke looks even prettier than you remember. Dark curly hair a little more grown out, unruly and hanging over his forehead like low hanging fruit, begging for you to latch onto it. His face looks a little slimmer as if he’s lost weight, and the angular planes of his cheekbones and jawline accentuates the dark shadow he has along his chin. The mark of facial hair that was previously present. Beneath his clothes—a faded black, almost gray hoodie, and black sweatpants—he appears larger. His shoulders wider, his neck thicker, his wrist and hands veiner.

(Compared to his covered body, you feel bare in nothing but long socks, and a matching shorts and tank top set.)

He looks virtually the same, but his aura is different. There’s more confidence in him, a larger ego, glory even, that wasn’t there the last time you’d seen him. You know what has caused the change, and it should be something you despise. But his new glory makes him more attractive. It dries out your tongue and lodges something in your throat, pushing it further down until it sits heavy in your stomach.

“Thought this could be our new spot.” Luke speaks softly, almost in a scared whisper, as if he fears that you’ll reject him.

(You don’t know if you could ever reject Luke)

Your eyebrows furrow. “Our spot?” Confusion drips off of your words.

Luke nods once. He licks over his lips and you’re quick to peel your eyes away from the sight and back to his eyes. That’s not helping you much either so you instead try to figure out what books are on the shelves afar.

Since the little amount of time that has passed, there have been a few more added. From the ones that have already been there, the titles are too far away, too dream disoriented, and your dyslexia hasn’t escaped this dream, but you think you find novels on Seeing. Guides on how to decipher the visions that come to humans, or how to channel them.

You focus back on Luke.

“Yeah. Like the old bedroom. But a little more …” he hesitates to find the word then lands on, “Casual.”

The bedroom.

Your lower stomach stirs at the mention of it. The large bed, how warm it always was in there, the cold leather of the couch, the things the two of you did to each other on all surfaces.

This spot is definitely a lot more casual. You’re not instantly compelled to straddle Luke here, although you do have a few thoughts about throwing your legs over his right now and reconnecting in ways you’ve missed since he left.

So badly do you want to agree. This could be the one place where you get to experience what you’ve been missing without anyone else knowing. This is the only place where you can see Luke without anyone else knowing.

But it’s wrong.

He’s the cause of all of this. He’s caused the nightmares you’ve been pulled into. He has betrayed everyone on levels you could have never imagined. And who’s to say that he won’t betray you again.

“We won’t need a ‘spot’, Luke.” Briefly, his eyes flash as if he’s hurt but in your eyes, Luke has proven himself to be a formidable actor as of late so you ignore it. “This is a one time thing.”

A moment passes. And then another.

You turn to watch the sea out in the distance. It appears as if the ocean has lulled for the time being. The sky is still dark, but it has yet to deepen in color.

Luke takes a breath and you give him your attention again.

“Why won’t you join me?”

His eyes flash betrayal, his lips twist into something sorrowful.

Your answer comes easy. The same one you’ve told yourself over and over again, night by night when you considered reaching out to him.

“Because it’s not right, Luke.”

When he stands, his newfound power becomes even more clear. It leaks from his pores, spews from his mouth with his words.

“How could it be ‘wrong’ when you feel the same. All that time you spent telling me about your father. How neglected you felt. What happened to that?”

Your head shakes. You stand, too, evening out the field for both of you.

“This is not what I meant. I–” The words don’t find you. Luke takes notice.

“You what? Love your father? Love the gods? After how they treat you. How they treat us.”

“Don’t say ‘us’. We aren’t together, Luke.”

That same look flashes in his eyes once more. He takes a step forward, you take one back.

He doesn’t say anything. You watch his hand reach behind his back.

“What, are you gonna fight me like you did with Percy?”

His head shakes. His eyes harden. He pulls his hand back and it comes up empty.

“He attacked first.”

Your voice starts to rise. “And you tried to kill him, Luke. He’s twelve. What don’t you understand about that? ”

“Twelve and a forbidden child. In the grand scheme of things, his age doesn’t matter. He’s powerful. More powerful than both of us combined.”

“So is that why you tried to kill him? Because he’s a threat?”

“I don’t want to have this conversation with you. Not here. Not now.”

“Yeah? Well then when? And where? Because this is the last time you’ll be seeing me, Luke.”

“Okay.”

Your eyebrows raise. Disbelief paints over your features. You’d expected more of a fight. For Luke to disagree or attempt to convince you to return to him a few more times after this. Maybe that’s what you wanted. Maybe you wanted him to convince you that you needed him. Maybe you wanted to hear him tell you that he needed you.

Either way, your reply is the same as his.

“Okay.” You turn and take the few steps it takes to get to the door.

Your chest heaves with large gulps of air in and small breaths of letting them out. Your body is buzzing, the same feeling you would get before sparring with Luke. The same feeling you would get before your bodies joined together.

You tell yourself to reach out for the door handle. You tell yourself to lift your arm, connect your hand with the metal, and pull it open. You tell yourself to return to your own dreamscape, maybe even reality, and forget any of this ever happened.

Maybe you would’ve done it if Luke hadn’t spoken.

“You can walk out that door but that won’t change how you truly feel.”

He doesn’t add on. You don’t move.

“And how do I feel?”

The adrenaline is overwhelming you. You need to expel it out of your body somehow.

As Luke is speaking, you’re already approaching him.

“I’m sure I don’t need to answer that for you.”

When he speaks, it’s with arrogance. His confidence is heavily laced in his words, overflowing until it drips out into the air and lodges in your chest. Running through your body and down to your fingertips. It annoys you, makes you want to battle it out with him in a fight you’re sure to lose.

Your feet thud against the floor with each step until you’re close enough to cup his cheeks in both of your hands and pull his face down to yours.

There’s no hesitation in the kiss from either side. As if both of you were expecting it to happen eventually.

Luke kisses you back vehemently, his lips messily sliding against yours as he presses into the center of your back, accentuating the curve and drawing your chest into his. His free hand glides down your side to your hips. He circles to your back, dragging his palm down to rest over the curve of your ass. He grips the flesh through the soft fabric of your shorts, digging his blunt nails in before continuing his hand—open palmed—down to grip the back of your thigh.

His other hand mirrors his previous actions until he has a hand on either thigh. He tugs once, and you collaborate to wrap your legs around his waist and hook your ankles behind his back. Your hands dig into his hair, and your core tightens as you prepare to continue holding yourself up. But Luke takes most of the load.

He places his hands on your bottom to keep you lifted. You expect him to walk you back to the couch, or maybe pin you to a wall. But he doesn’t.

He holds you against him in the center of the living room, kissing you like he’ll never get to kiss you again. You don’t fail to realize how he likely won’t.

His tongue slides against yours, your teeth knock together at least twice, both of you refuse to pull away to breathe which results in heavy exhales through your noses against the skin of the other cheek.

While it may be uncoordinated, it’s not primal.

There’s copious amounts of longing beneath each pass of your tongues against each other. There’s human emotion behind the way you tug on his hair and how he uses one hand to pull your hips closer to him. There’s raw longing in the soft sighs and gasps you both let out into the other’s mouth, taking it in and replicating the noises over and over again.

When you finally do part, it’s with a wet, pronounced smack.

“Luke,” you gasp his name before you can realize it’s happening. One of your hands moves from his hair to hold his cheek. Your fingers spread around his ear and your thumb probes into his jaw.

He hums, his eyes still shut.

“I want you,” you admit.

You watch the smile spread across his lips, his eyes flickering open to look into your soul.

“Took you long enough to admit it.”

You suck your teeth and roll your eyes. Your other hand, previously resting on his shoulder, slaps his bicep.

“Don’t be an asshole about it.”

He laughs as he apologizes, knocking his forehead against yours. “Sorry, pretty girl.”

He takes a moment.

When he speaks, his eyes are nothing but earnest. His words are slow and careful, despite how simple they are. They fill your chest with warmth. They comfort you, possibly in slight delusion as you instantly believe him without caring about what repercussions his promise could come with.

“You have me. Always have. Always will.”

You’re quick to surge forward.

Luke is quick to reciprocate.

This time, he walks you back to the couch. He settles you on it carefully, not lifting his hands from your bottom until you’re seated securely along the loveseat and pulled to the edge by his hands hooked under your knees.

His own knees dig into the rug beneath the furniture. His head is tipped up to continue kissing you, this one lacking the over enthusiasm from before. Now, he takes his time, having confessed his desire to be with you as long as you’ll let him.

It’s not long until he pulls away and trails his lips down, kissing along your decollete, not stopping when he comes in contact with the fabric of your small shirt. He presses his lips into the fabric firmly, as if he’s trying to reach your skin beneath the layer.

You feel the pressure he has beneath each kiss as he trails down, and you arch into his touch, excitement spreading through your lower half whenever Luke digs his fingers into the elastic of your shorts and pulls them off of your legs before he even reaches there.

You’re quick to leave your legs open, even going as far as to spread them a little more to give Luke more room.

His wide shoulders fill the space. They nudge against your knees and instead of letting you spread your legs even more, he throws them over his shoulders, effectively caging himself in with your limbs.

If the small smile on his face is anything to go by, he’s happy about his position.

You’re still wearing your panties. Your hands trail down to get rid of them, but Luke stops you with a hand on your lower abdomen.

“Let me,” he tells you, voice soft and light.

You remove your hands and do as told. It’s a simple system you have worked out, Luke slowly but surely working his way down to where you want him. He's eager, and you know he wants himself there as much as you do.

It’s strange what desire could make you do.

You’ve never been anything but loyal to Camp Half-Blood. To both of your parents. And in normal circumstances, you wouldn’t allow yourself to do this.

But you’ll simply have a final time with Luke. That’s it. Sharing your body with him, and having his body shared with you, won’t make you forget his transgressions.

As your panties are pulled off of your legs, and your skin is once again placed above the thick fabric on the shoulders of his sweatshirt, you tell yourself that this won’t change anything.

You’ll never be able to forget what he has done. What he’s planning to do.

Except, perhaps, you can push it aside for as long as you’ll have to while you let yourself get lost in his touch.

The first pass of his tongue is a long stripe between your folds. He spreads you open with his thumbs, pulling at the skin on either side to expose your center. Then he flattens his tongue and licks up from your entrance to your clit.

He puckers his lips, sucking twice before flicking his tongue against the bud.

Your hands card through his hair, ignoring the way your fingers get stuck on a few stubborn curls that refuse to separate in favor of grounding yourself. It feels too good, and you haven’t been in this position for too long. There’s nothing you fear more right now than getting too lost and waking up in the real world before you’re even satisfied.

Luke brings his attention back down to your entrance where he laps up what you’ve been leaking. He groans, peeling his mouth away and you stare down at him, entranced by how grateful he looks.

Eyes closed, face completely relaxed, his scar laid flat against his cheek, his pink lips parted and glistening.

He looks ethereal. The sight is addicting.

“Missed this so much,” he admits, tongue flickering out to lick the remnants of your arousal off of his lips.

You feel the same, but you refuse to tell him that. Instead, you scrape your nails at his scalp lightly and shuffle your hips, hoping that alone is enough to capture Luke’s attention again.

Either he catches the memo or he had the same idea as you because his lips are right back between your legs.

You’d expected him to behave like a man starved, licking and sucking your cunt like you would disappear any moment. Instead, he takes his time with you. He utilizes the best part about being in a dreamscape: the lack of concrete time.

He savors the taste of your cunt, and the little sounds you make. His fingers press into the tops of your thighs as he holds them down against his shoulders to prevent you from squirming. His nose nudges against your clit and digs into the short hair you have on your mound.

He presses his tongue everywhere that he can, sometimes even sliding further down to rim areas still unexplored. Each time, you would tense up just a little less, until eventually you were trying to subtly urge his head further down for him to do it just one more time.

And when he does, that’s when the coil in your lower belly gets as tight as it could get, just before snapping from the tension. You would have warned him. Or, maybe you did. You were so focused on getting there that any words that came out of your mouth weren’t even considered. You weren’t aware of anything other than your mouth moving at the same speed as your hips as you dragged your cunt against Luke’s face, using him to guide your orgasm to full completion.

As soon as your hips stop twitching you swing your legs off of his shoulders and slide to the floor beside him. You pull your shirt off, then do the same for Luke, throwing both of your tops off to the side.

Unsurprisingly, he’s not wearing another layer beneath the sweatshirt, allowing you to run your palms down his chest, feeling the familiar definition along his abdomen.

You sit in front of him with your legs folded underneath you, and since he’s on his haunches, he towers over you just a bit. You have to tilt your head up to kiss at his jaw and neck, your hands busying themselves with urging his sweatpants off of his hips.

Luke does the rest of the job for you, hesitantly pulling away from your touch to stand and slide his sweatpants off of his legs himself. You’re left on the ground, hands politely resting in your lap while you stare up at Luke with wide eyes.

He slowly reveals more and more of his legs until he’s wearing nothing but his briefs. They hug him well, like they always have. A prominent outline of the muscle definition in his thighs, elastic waistband hanging low enough on his hips for you to see the ‘V’ that connects his hips and abdomen. And of course, the tight material reveals the prominent boner confined within the crotch of his briefs.

You want to reach up and palm him. You want to pull the final layer off of him. You want to take his cock into your mouth and relax with the heavy and warm feeling of him against your tongue.

But you decide to be patient. And it’s worth it.

Luke slides his briefs off himself, never breaking eye contact with you as he throws them to join the rest of your clothing. His stare is strong and heavy as he spits into his hand and puts his dick into the same place, wrapping his palm around the center of it and stroking a few times.

There’s the prettiest, most picturesque bead of precum at the tip and you’re practically salivating just looking at it, praying deep down that Luke doesn’t run his hand over it so you can have it for yourself.

As if sensing your inner turmoil, Luke takes a step closer, holding the base of his cock right in front of your face, allowing you to get the perfect view of how his tip is a light pink around the almost clear drop of precum.

“You want?” he asks you simply, smiling a bit when you nod eagerly. “Then open.”

You’re quick to do as told, lacking any shame whenever you open your mouth and stick your tongue out. As soon as Luke presses his tip to your muscle, you wrap your lips around him and eagerly suck him clean.

Another good thing about the dreamscape is that everything either tastes like absolutely nothing, or like pure honey. And when you’re with Luke, things are usually the latter.

You start to get lost in it, enthusiastically beginning to suck Luke off even though you were only meant to be getting a taste.

You can see that Luke is close to commenting on it. His eyes shine like they do before he has something to say, but just when his lips part and he takes a breath to speak, you hollow your cheeks and sink as far down him as you can and any words he could have conjured up are suddenly gone.

He lets you do what you want, eyes fluttering shut and one large hand cupping the back of your head as you continue to suck him off. He lets out the smallest noises, pretty grunts and groans and sighs.

Luke was clearly just as wound up as you were. Within a couple of minutes he’s already starting to spew out praises like he does when he’s close. Some of them are fragments, broken words strung together in incomplete sentences.

“So … doing so .. you’re–” when you swirl your tongue at the tip and tease his balls just a bit.

“Gods, you’re so good at this,” when you jerk the majority of his dick with one hand and focus your mouth on his tip with the other.

“Close. So close. Almost there, dove” when you take all of him into your mouth once more, throat molding around the definite shape of him.

And when he cums down your throat, you’re so satisfied that you can’t help but moan unabashedly along with him.

You’ve only just swallowed his cum before his cock is pulled out of your mouth and he’s back on his knees in front of you.

His arms wrap around your waist, he pulls you into his lap, laying his head on your chest and just letting himself be.

Just existing.

After a couple of minutes, you stop expecting him to speak and decide to just exist too. Your breathing eventually matches up, in and out, in and out, over and over again in tandem. Outside, rain starts to thud against the roof of the small home. Distantly, there’s the faint sound of thunder, and you’re sure the ocean is swirling angrily.

None of that matters, though. You’ll be left to decipher the metaphorical meanings of it all later, when you aren’t coexisting in the shared warmth from you and Luke.

When he isn’t kissing the tops of your breasts and holding you securely in his arms.

Eventually, Luke does break the silence. His voice is low when he does, both in volume and tone.

“Can I have you? Just one final time?”

He talks into your skin without looking directly at you. But as you start to respond, you cup his cheeks and force him to look at you.

The entire time, you’ve been fighting this battle. Knowing you wanted Luke, knowing you wanted to be with Luke, but also knowing it was wrong. All of it was wrong.

But right here, right now, you let go. You nod unashamedly. You kiss his forehead then the tip of his nose then his lips, before landing on the bottom end of his scar.

You tell him, “Yes. Of course, Luke”, as if he didn’t even have to ask in the first place.

And truthfully, you don’t think he did.

‎

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

Luke is in the middle of pulling his sweatshirt back over his head when you speak. There’s a second where the fabric is hiding his face, slowly revealing the curls at the top of his head, then his dark eyebrows, and finally his eyes. They look as they have the entire time: despondent.

“I know you didn’t. Neither did I.” You have a feeling that neither of you are speaking about the same specific thing, but the overlap in your conditions is so wide that you don’t bother correcting him.

He reaches behind his back once more and when he pulls his hand back around, he has his camp necklace dangling from his fingers. He undoes the knot, and holds it open, waiting, until finally you turn around and let him delicately tie it around your neck.

Your hand touches the beads. You want to thank him, but it doesn’t feel right.

Instead, your lips twist into what you hope comes off as a thankful smile when you turn around. When Luke replicates it, you feel a little better.

There’s a moment, just a brief moment there where you’re both staring at each other and the memory of Luke’s hands and lips and tongue and his everything engrossing you, taking your everything and combining them together, is still fresh on your mind. The warmth of his eyes and the warmth of his camp necklace around your throat heals you. And you consider that your feelings for Luke were stronger than you ever forced yourself to acknowledge.

He was more than a close friend to you. More than someone you looked up to. More than someone you shared your body with in the dreamscape.

He was more.

It feels unfair for you to have these emotions. The wrongness of it all—your feelings for Luke Castellan, how he’d turned out—has rage fueling deep in your gut. With no one else to blame it on, you can’t help but briefly curse the gods.

For they were the ones to cause this. To instill deep hatred into Luke’s chest. To prevent either of you from ever having a normal life where you could live and breathe and love without the burdens placed upon you both.

A life where you wouldn’t have to love and lose someone like Luke.

But there’s nothing for you to do about it now.

You don’t want to leave. But your time together is up. You should’ve left a long time ago, and your choice to stay before resulted in something you could never take back.

You turn and walk to the door. And once more, Luke speaking causes you to stop.

“You are the only one who could make me change my mind.” He says it in a small whisper, as if he doesn’t want to admit it even to himself. As if he shouldn’t be admitting it at all.

‘Are’. His feelings for you still haven’t changed. You don’t know if they ever will.

Either way, you’re forced to change yours.

You don’t know what to say. So you don’t say anything. Your hand reaches for the doorknob. You take it in your palm, gripping and turning at the same time until the latch is undone.

The door opens and fills the room with the sound of rain falling. It’s loud and fills the empty space. Up until Luke speaks and the baritone of his voice joins it.

“This is it?”

You nod once. Luke’s scoff sounds painful. It’s bitter with an edge of hatred. Maybe disbelief.

It makes tears brim at your eyes. Your nose stings. Your throat feels as if it’s constricting with the effort to hold your tears back.

Luke takes a breath. You step one foot out of the door.

“Dreamcatcher,” he calls to get your attention, the nickname giving you that fuzzy feeling you used to get from just seeing him around camp. “We’ll be seeing each other again.”

And then your foot lands on the dry green grass of your own dreamscape.

Just a few hours later, you rise with the morning sun, sneaking off to the showers before everyone else to get rid of the stickiness between your thighs.

The dream might not have been real, but the evidence between your legs certainly was. Strangely enough, that and the additional chord of beads around your neck. You only notice it when you’ve undressed and stepped beneath the shower head, scrubbing at your skin and running into additional jewelry you hadn’t expected to have been there.

You take it off and slip it with the rest of your clothes as a keepsake, carrying it around in your pocket for only you to know about.

#lukesworld!#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan smut #celeste writes pjo

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unmarlou · 2 months

Text

silver soul.

pairings. percy jackson x fem!reader.

summary. a late night trip to montauk beach.

lacy says. percy jackson the loml since i was like ten LMAO. i seriously love the idea of percy considering his s/o being drenched like an extension of himself. i usually put the song to let u know the inspo but this time i recommend listening while reading! ok bye luv u.

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percy found it increasingly difficult to keep his eyes on the road.

by compulsion, he’d sneak a look at his right hand side every few minutes, trying to retain every detail perfectly.

the blue and silver hue curtesy of the night, your image contrasted against the shrubs of grass lining the beach. the way your hair rippled behind you from the strong breeze of the open window, your hand extended beyond yourself in hopes of catching air in your palm.

the only thought that could cross his mind was a desperate wish for a camera, a way to capture this sight and keep it forever.

his eyes reluctantly returned to the empty road. there hadn’t been car to pass in awhile, which made him feel less bad about looking away as frequently as he did. not to mention how familiar it all was, he knew what pace to keep, what turns to make, how much longer it’d be.

the wind brushed past rapidly, giving the skin a break from the exhausting summer humidity. it’d been a bit since the saltwater smell had arrived, but it nonetheless filled the car with a renewed sense of excitement.

the music of the radio echoed beyond itself, reminding the seagulls and grains of sand that they weren’t alone.

rounding a corner that percy knew all too well, he glanced at you again, only this time you were already looking at him. his hair was blown about, his toned arms sharply displayed ahead of him, and there was a gleam in his green eyes you liked to believe was only ever meant for you.

the car was brought to a halt in the middle of a deserted parking lot and you smiled at him, before wordlessly rushing out and away.

he was quick to follow, not before reaching into the backseat to retrieve the beach towels you’d brought. opening his car door and looking beyond, his heart raced with anticipation at the stark white moon shining over the dark water.

he ran and ran and ran after you. you’d discarded the t-shirt worn over your bathing suit in the sand alongside your shoes. he smiled to himself, quickly unfurling a towel and tossing your things upon it.

he then removed his own shirt, throwing it next to everything else mindlessly- he couldn’t be bothered with being meticulous when the sea was calling him. he chased your footprints down the beach but stopped right at the edge as he caught wind of you.

you’d emerged from the water. a story percy had heard about a beautiful creature coming up from the sea foam flashed in his mind but he could barely form a full thought to put a name to it. the moon was bright behind you, lining your silhouette in pure silver. illuminating with each stride, if he didn’t know any better he would’ve thought you were the most heavenly neried.

water soaked your body and he was absolutely taken by the sight. he felt that in some strange way, you were completely submerged in him. seeing you in the sea, you and him had become one.

you dragged yourself through the waves over, a water dripping hand extended to him, “c’mon!”

without hesitation he accepted, though he was still watching you with half a mind. as you led him farther in, his eyes grazed your rising and falling chest littered with droplets.

waist deep now and unable to help himself, he pulled on your hand, bringing you to him with a small yelp, earning a breathless chuckle at your surprise.

your arms instinctively came to rest around his neck, staring up at him through waterlogged lashes, “hi.”

“hi yourself.”

waves crashed everywhere but around the two of you. one of his hands found its way down to your leg, bringing it to his waist in indication. once you were completely entangled to him, both his hands rested comfortably around your waist.

“it’s not fair, you know,” you told him.

his head tilted slightly, “what isn’t?”

“you get to be all dry.” your eyes narrowed at him and he laughed.

“you want me to get wet?” he mused with his famous smirk.

“mhm.”

“whatever you say.”

on his word, both of you plunged underwater. you stayed tied to him, although bubbles and strands of hair clouded any visions of one another for a few seconds. once they were away, you saw his hair floating off his head and knew he was concentrating well enough to keep it wet per your request.

light seeped in in rays, encapsulating the both of you, creating a comfortable warmth that almost made you want to stay.

a hand left your hips to reach your cheek and pulled you into a kiss. even underwater, his lips were still as soft albeit slightly most salty than you remembered.

arms still locked around each other and lips moving in sync, you breached the surface. pulling away and taking a deep breath, percy seemed to chase after your mouth for a second, forgetting you couldn’t also breath underwater.

catching your breath, and looking at him in full, his dark hair stuck to his forehead and water ran down the tip of his nose. you brushed it away with a giggle, returning both hands to the sides of his face.

looking at you above him, he smiled, “better?”

“much.”

he gave a small nod, mouth slightly agape, searching your features with that same gleam in his now blue-green eyes. his voice suddenly lowered to a whisper, “did i ever tell you you’re the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen?”

you gave a reluctantly shy smile, the temperature in your face rising despite the breeze, “only every day.”

he chided, “not nearly enough.”

he watched you with intent, as your head lifted up to the sky. no matter the circumstances, he’d only ever want to look at you. your shoulders wore streams of ocean that resembled himself. he gently pressed his lips to your collarbone without conviction.

moonlight once again took the whole of you, your skin glowing in an almost religious way.

as you were blissfully unaware and gazing at the stars, percy was able to form his first full thought since you’d gotten in his car all those hours ago; you were now consumed in him, the way he’d always been of you.

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#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #pjo #pjo fanfic #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson fic #heroes of olympus fanfiction #book percy jackson #fanfic #Spotify

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upsidedownwithsteve · 3 months

Text

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.

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.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #Steve Harrington fanfiction #Steve Harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington oneshot

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heliads · 3 months

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boy; girl; dragon

Hiccup only needs two things. He knows he can rely on both forever.

masterlist

There is a boy, and he has a girl. And also a dragon.

The order matters. He had the girl first, even if he didn’t know it yet. She didn’t say a word to him about the feeling beating against the bars of her ribs like a dove in a cage, not until he did first. The dragon helped things along, surprisingly. Usually, fire-breathing reptiles can only complicate a situation, but when two young people are soaring through the sky with only the billowing light of the sun and stars around them to bear witness to the truths they have to tell, secrets end up not so secret anymore. Hiccup told you he loved you. You said the same.

The dragon watched, and listened, and waited. It, of course, had known the whole time. Almost everyone did. Tact is a rare occurrence among the Vikings, but the people of Berk could tell that interference in the story of you and him, him and you, would not bode well. You and Hiccup were something different, something special. You didn’t need anyone but each other. And the dragon.

Loving a Viking is dangerous. Loving Hiccup was so far along the line of adventure and risk that even your first kiss felt like throwing off your armor to embrace a knife in your chest. If this was pain, though, it was the loveliest anguish you had ever experienced in your entire life. Falling in love with Hiccup was brilliant, like dragonfire; exhilarating, like tumbling in freefall; unfailing, like the son of a chieftain knowing that he would send his entire village to keep you safe from harm or die trying. Staying in love with him was soft torchlight, quiet mornings, wispy clouds around your temples when he took you up to see the stars. Easy. Perfect. And yours, all yours.

The two of you are together now, sitting side by side on the edge of a cliff. Most of Berk is rocky with occasional splashes of slate blue or chestnut wood to break up the monotonous grey, but tenacious patches of grass have managed to crawl up to the top of the cliffside here, providing you with a threadbare emerald blanket on which you can rest your legs.

A cool wind whistles through the air, toying with your hair and clothes before plunging off the edge of the rock face. You watch it go, taking a few errant leaves with it, and consider the drop down to the sea below you.

“If I fell right now,” you say to Hiccup, “off the side, you would catch me.”

“I would catch you,” he affirms. “Dragon or no dragon.”

“What if I fell too fast and you couldn’t reach me in time?” You ask.

He takes your hand, voice soft and gentle in the early morning. You’ve heard him louder and more assertive when directing the villagers, but you like him best like this, when Hiccup’s peace is only ever meant for you. There is an entirely different young man who exists only when he’s alone with you, a Hiccup that no one will ever know as well as you do. It is a delight to keep the secret of this second, inner boy. It’s a treasure that will only ever be claimed by you, a sparkling spread of gold and jewels captive to one person and one person alone. Not even blood relations can claim that sort of glory.

“There is nowhere you could go that I would not follow,” Hiccup asserts. “Not off the cliff. Not into the sky. I would follow you past the sun, or a hundred thousand lengths in the sea. I would search the world to find you, if I had to, and I would bring you back with me. Always. Do you believe me?”

“I do,” you whisper. “Always.”

“Always,” he repeats, and presses a kiss to your temple.

This is loving Hiccup, then. Always. Always the guarantee of a heart beating in tandem with yours. Always the confidence that you will not be alone in this world of yours, even as it seems to stretch out forever, even as it looms to hide a hundred friends or a thousand enemies. If the odds are with you or against you, you will have Hiccup to guide you through the trials and tribulations of this life of yours. It is written in the stars, and it is sworn by the one you love. No promise could be greater.

The two of you will descend into legend, into myth, into folklore. Never in the world have any two people loved each other more, and never will they again. Every young pair thinks that they could have this, a love to last a lifetime, but you and Hiccup will do them one better and last a thousand more. You could love him in every universe, every incarnation of yourselves, and Hiccup has already promised to be by your side no matter who you two were. Gods, maybe. Heroes or villains. Ordinary lives or glorious ones. All of them will feature the two of you together. Always.

A shadow briefly blots out the sun overhead, a pair of jet-black wings soaring through the early morning skies. As it loops and wheels towards the two of you, its shade flickers across the trees, dappling them with night’s fury even as the sun climbs higher into the sky. It occurs to you that you’d like every day to start and end like this one, for each one of your hours to be filled with this sort of blissful joy. You don’t need riches, you don’t need a legacy. All you need is right here before you. A boy and a girl. And also a dragon.

disney tag list: @blondsauduun, @lovesanimals0000, @mayfieldss, @eclliipsed, @avadakadabra93

also tagging @hope92100 bc HICCUP

all tags list: @wordsarelife

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goldfish-afterhours · 4 months

Text

Genshin Characters as Fairy Tales

Characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Childe, Zhongli, Xiao x Gn!Reader

Type/Genre: Bulleted headcanons, angst/fluff

Warnings: Not all fairy tales have happy endings—major character death

Notes: Man why are fairy tales so sad

Diluc

Cinderella

On the night of your 18th birthday, your father holds a grand masquerade ball, inviting everyone in the kingdom

You, however, had little to no interest in such things. While the party was happening inside, you decided to take a stroll in the gardens

Who knew there would be monsters lurking in the dark that got past the guards?

Before it could devour you, someone sliced its head off with one fell swoop

Standing in front of you was a man with red hair, a black masquerade mask obscuring his eyes

You thanked him and offered him a reward, but he declined. Upon seeing your disappointed expression, he suggested just spending the night talking with him, since he didn’t know anyone at the ball

The two of you sit outside, talking about anything and everything as the night grows later and later

Just as the clock struck twelve, the masked man jumps to his feet, muttering something about how he has to get home

You try to persuade him to stay, or at least tell you his name, but he dashes off so fast you can’t catch up to him

All he left behind was your memory of his soft smile…and a black mask, dropped in the grass

You scour the entire kingdom for him, holding up the mask to every person you meet in hopes you find him, but to no avail

But a crazy idea pops in your head

Deep into the night, you stroll down the main street, unarmed. Just as you expected, a group of hoodlums threaten you, demanding money in exchange for your life

And just as you expected, the man with red hair returns to save you again

For saving your life twice, you insist on giving him a grand reward

You bring him, the son of a deceased and disgraced ex-government official, to the castle, and the two of you live happily ever after <3

“I was afraid you didn’t want to see me again. But putting yourself in danger was much too reckless.”

“That’s how much I wanted to see you again~”

Kaeya

The Little Mermaid

Kaeya, a merman, falls in love with you, a pirate

He’s always swimming beside your ship, listening to you sing with your shipmates of treasure, of good alcohol, of friendship, of love

Gives away his voice to have legs and be with you. He doesn’t want to just listen to your songs—he wants to be the one you sing them to

Cruelly, you fall in love with someone else

His brother, in an attempt to save Kaeya, presents him with a dagger, saying if he is able to kill you then he’ll be able to return to the sea as a merman

But how can Kaeya kill the one he gave up everything for?

How can he even dare imagine hurting the one he loved with his entire being, that he would be willing to walk on glass everyday for?

Throws the dagger into the water. As the sun rises, he watches you, laughing together with your lover, as he melts into seafoam

And as much as it pains him, at least he can see you happy one last time

You don’t see him as he is carried away by the wind

“No matter what…I hope you live happily.”

Childe

Little Red Riding Hood

He’s the Big Bad Wolf, and you’re an herbalist making your deliveries of medicine to your patient in the forest

At first, he’s too nervous to approach you, afraid he would scare you away

But one day, when he sees you shivering from the frosted air, he steels himself enough to offer you his red scarf

The smile you gave him as you wrapped the scarf around yourself was almost enough to heal the years of loneliness from his isolation in the woods

The two of you become friends: Childe shows you all the best spots to pick herbs, and you tell him stories of the outside world

The villagers fear him, a man-eating beast, so he never ventures out of the forest

Childe loves the sound of your voice, and he loved listening to your stories, especially this one story about how the Sun and Moon were lovers in a tragedy, separated in the sky

Protects you from the hostile wild animals in the forest

When the two of you realize you were in love with each other, you made no haste in moving into his cozy cottage

But when the villagers realized their beloved herbalist was in the clutches of the detested wolf, they all swore you had been tricked

They stormed the forest, armed

You come back to your cottage from picking herbs, just in time to see the villagers point a rifle at him

Even with your skills, there is nothing you can do but cradle him in your arms as his blood stains the grass red

“C-Can you finish the rest of the story? I want to know…if the Sun and the Moon ever meet again.”

Zhongli

Sleeping Beauty

In the wild overgrowth once known as the country Liyue, there exists a legend of an almighty god who had fallen into a deep slumber

To save your country, you set out to search for this missing god

The terrain is harsh, overrun with trees and thistles and bushes blocking your every way

But occasionally, you will stumble upon a statue, vines and moss adorning the structure, helping you to believe that perhaps there really was a civilization who lived here in the past

The wild guides you up the cliffs, into a cave where you find a dragon sleeping, his breath slow and shallow

There was something so lonely, so sad about this sleeping dragon, trapped deep in the country of a long-gone civilization, only able to wait for someone to come

You put your hands on the sides of his face, and, as if to reward him for all his years of waiting and to tell him he is no longer alone, you kiss his forehead

The moment you do, his scales scatter away like droplets in a summer rainstorm

You were no longer holding a dragon, but cupping the face of a man

His eyelids fluttered open, revealing amber eyes that glowed like the moon in the darkness of the cave, and you knew you had found your missing god

“Oh…you have found me. How long I’ve been waiting for you.”

Xiao

Beauty and the Beast

With each passing day, Xiao can feel himself transforming more into a monster

The weight of his sins grew heavier and heavier, covering him with ashes and feathers

Soon, there were rumours of a half bird beast flying over the village at night, searching for its next meal

You, an orphan that had been treated as an outcast since birth, was chosen by the villagers to be the sacrifice to quell the beast’s anger and hunger

But after being brought to his decaying castle, Xiao makes it clear he has no interest in eating you

In fact, he gives you free reign in his home, allowing you to go wherever you pleased

At first, he tries to scare you, tries to get you to stay away from him

But when you see him feeding the chipmunks outside, and the songbirds feel safe enough around him to perch on his shoulders, you no longer feel afraid

The two of you slowly warm up to each other. Xiao’s favourite thing to do is listen to you read

When he can’t fall asleep at night from the pain, he asks you to read him stories so he can fall asleep to the sound of your soft voice

You come to realize he’s not a monster but a hurt, scared boy who only wants to wake up from this nightmare he’s been trapped in

The two of you enjoyed your peaceful life together, until one day a hero from your village stormed Xiao’s castle, determined to either save or take vengeance for you

Xiao, who flew over the village every night to make sure no danger came to the villagers, could not bring himself to defend himself from this naive boy

As you hold his still body, you kiss him goodbye

To both you and the hero’s shock, the feathers stabbed into Xiao’s body dispersed, swirling into the sky

The feathers kept flying away until the beast you were holding in your arms became human again

“You’ve awoken me from a terrifying dream. Thank you.”

please comment/reblog if you’ve enjoyed! <3

#listen I did not expect it to get this dark #my writing #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin au #genshin headcanons #genshin angst #Diluc #Kaeya #Childe #Xiao #Zhongli #Diluc x reader #Kaeya x reader #Childe x reader #Xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios

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mandowifey · 11 months

Text

Bury

Miguel O'hara x Fem!Reader

Miguel Masterlist

Warnings: Reader is 18+,NSFW, oviposition, creampie, breeding mentions, non-con mentions, dark!Miguel, my version of Miguel, dub con, violence, aggressive heroing, Miguel being a massive ass, pet play, reader is held against her will. Oviposition - the process of having eggs laid inside of you.

Another one I needed to do before my brain exploded. Not proof read, enjoy!

× × ×

One face in a sea of millions, and he picked you. Miguel liked to say,'I saved you,' but you knew better. You were taken. Whisked away from your home and locked somewhere unfamiliar and daunting. Most people swooned at the notion of being rescued by Spider-Man, but they didn't know the truth like you.

Spider-Man wasn't a hero.

He was a monster, and you were his prey.

Miguel liked to watch you. When he was in thought or pondering his next move, he would often linger in your presence and quietly observe. You hated it, feeling like a zoo animal under scrutiny. Sometimes, he'd cross the room and sit down on the bed near you with his face towards the wall. Other times, he would lay his head on your lap and rest his eyes to the sound of your pattering heart. If you felt brave, you'd tassel your fingers through his brown curls. Being soft with him helped to temper his mood.

That afternoon, he came to you as usual and climbed onto the bed. You folded the book you were reading and sat up, adjusting the silk blue nightgown he'd given you. The look on Miguel's face is different. There is uncertainty in his eyes, and his body language feels off. You watch him for a moment before tentatively touching your hand to his back. "Miguel?"

"I'm going to need you to do something for me today."

The weight of his tone makes you jump. A man who had done nothing but take from you was asking you to help him. You felt uneasy, watching him as his expression twisted into disgust, and he looked away. Ultimately confused, your eyes track him in silence as you wait out whatever internal struggle he was dealing with.

"You aren't going to like it."

Now you laughed.

His head swiveled, and his eyes went from that warm, chocolate brown to hellish red. Bristling, his clawed hand grabbed your cheeks and squeezed until your lips stuck out. "You think it's funny?" He spits, his lip curling in a snarl. "You have no idea, not a one, of what I'm going to do to you today." With a shove, he sends you sprawling onto your back and knocks the wind out of you. You are left flailing, arms and hands catching yourself before you could topple off the bed.

"I'm sorry," you squeak, heart hammering. "I'm sorry, I just -" The way he looked at you made you panic. "You have never asked me before." It was honesty. He had taken you from your home, stolen your virginity, and hadn't stopped using you since. Spider-man's dirty little secret, locked away in his tower forever. You press your knees together and turn your eyes downward, your shoulders slanted. "I'm sorry." You reiterated, as it was the only thing you could think to say now.

Miguel watches you tense like a snake in the grass. "You're right," His voice growled. "So what's the use in asking now. Come here." A fist closes around your ankle, and you're torn closer to him in an effortless display of his strength. The gown you wore rode high, exposing your underwear and soft stomach. His eyes flick over you, taking in what he'd claimed as his long ago. Tonguing one of his growing fangs, Miguel leans down to cage your body with his own. Balanced on his knees between your legs, he brings his mouth to your ear.

"You are special, Y/N. You think I picked you randomly, that I just happened to like you for your looks?" He smiled into his words now. "It's much more than that. You see," One of his hands touches your knee and causes you to jump, a whimper tightening in your throat. "What happened to me didn't just give me fangs, or venom, or red eyes and this charming disposition I know you love so much," A breath wafts against your neck, and you shiver. "My body, every couple of months, goes into a sort of rut." Miguel adjusted himself between your legs, leaning his weight into you to let you feel the growing bulge he sported.

Sucking in a soft breath, you close your eyes as he kisses the nape of your neck. Of everything he did to you, you hated the fact he was able to make you melt. Miguel knew everything you liked and enjoyed using it against you. Grazing your flesh with his fangs, Miguel continued. "It doesn't just make me violent, hungry, and territorial, but in fact, it also makes me produce eggs." Hearing that made your eyes open and head turn to look up at him. With your faces so close, Miguel ghosted his lips over your own. "That's right," He continued. "Every time it's happened and I've tried to pass them manually, it doesn't work. The pain is fucking excruciating, Y/N." Sighing, he nips your mouth. "I came to the conclusion that for this to work, I had to find the right incubator."

That wasn't a compliment. It struck fear in your chest, and another wave of nausea rolled through you, making you hot. "Oh god," you gasp, your voice twisting in distress. Miguel was unflinching, his eyes - now back to brown, staring down at your distraught expression. "It's going to hurt, I'm guessing, but since you're such a good girl, I know you'll take them just fine for me." A sickening smile crossed his features as he kissed you, bruising your lips before drawing upwards.

"W-wait, wait, wait- Wait, Miguel, f-fuck, Miguel wait -" You babbled, helpless as the super human moved your body around to his liking. "P-please, please let's talk about this!" Tears stung your eyes and clouded your vision as he drew you close and pushed your legs apart. The only thing hiding you from him now were your panties. "Nothing to talk about, kid." He sighed finally. "Maybe you'll even like it, who knows." Miguel was unbothered by your tears as he let his suit crawl back until he was bare.

This couldn't be real, and most certainly couldn't be happening to you.

Heaving a sob, you put your face in your hands as he rips your underwear off and exposes your soft folds. "Besides, you used to beg me to stop before and now look at you, I practically make you cum every time we fuck." Chuckling, Miguel wrapped a fist around his cock and dragged the weeping tip through your slit, collecting moisture. He tuts at you. "You're kidding me! You're wet, too? Sheesh, I'm starting to think you really do like me, princess." You were humiliated and frustrated at your body for defying you. In no way did you want to be used by some maniac to harbor his clutch, and certainly didn't want to cum for him.

Miguel rumbled above you, brooding and large as he notched at your entrance. "Try not to tense up this time." He smiles when you peek at him from between your fingers, then shoves forward. His cock stretches you brutally and bottoms out as he hilts. Your hands fly from your face to grab the blankets while a scream bellows deep from your diaphragm. "Shh, shh shh, you're doing great." Cooed the hero, his body leaning forward so he could balance on his forearms above you.

He begins to thrust, drawing back until only the head is left submerged before slowly shoving back to your end. The drag of his cock is maddening, stroking the deepest reaches of your cunt and making you mewl like a cat in heat. Miguel drops his head to yours, stealing a kiss to swallow your cries and lapping into your mouth. You felt smothered as he rocks his hips, driving deep into you with each brutal thrust he gave. "Ghh-god, f-feel so fucking good." He hisses against your lips, his breath fanning your face as he bucked. Your body bounced helplessly under him as you tried so hard to fight that rising heat in your abdomen.

"That's it." Miguel purrs against your gaping mouth, dipping his tongue over your teeth and breathing in your scent. Your cunt squishes around him, embarrassing you further as it made his girth pound easier within you. "M-mi-guel-" You choke, your words broken by each impact. Finally winding your hands into his hair and scratching down his back, you cave. As hard as you fought, he fucked you well, and you couldn't deny it.

Spurred by your affection, Miguel thrusts harder. His cock pounding into you rough enough to bruise, pulling cry after cry from you. Your nails scour his back, making him snarl as his head drops to your shoulder. The both of you are panting in tandem, your mouths brushing as you breathe eachothers air. He was losing it, his thrusts becoming uneven and frantic as he draws closer to his end.

"H-hah, t-too m-much-!" Your voice breaks, nearly sobbing as he rocks just right, the tip of his cock forcing against your gspot and bringing you closer to your own release. The sounds you make encourage him, and he suddenly sits up to grab your ankles and fold you at the hips. With this knee-to-chest position, you gasp. Miguel looks down at you, his eyes cloudy with emotion and need. Some of his hair came loose and dangled in strands in front of his face.

"C'mon princess, cum for me."

And that was all it took.

The mans cock brushes something explosive and sets you off. Your world becomes white hot, body tensing and arching as you clamp down around him in waves. Later, you will hate yourself, but now you ride out your release while you cry out and rock your hips to his. Miguel, now satisfied that you finished, braces himself on his hands by either side of your head. His face changes to a look of near pitiful desperation, the sounds escaping him paint a different picture of the man who held you against your will.

As you come down from your high, you watch as he unravels. Eyes closed lightly, and head lowered, Miguel bucks into you. He sought your warmth and the comforting squeeze your little cunt gave him. Harder, until he bumps your cervix again, and you keen softly, then he crumbles. You feel him throb, followed by a hot spray of thick, heavy fluid. It doesn't hurt, even when he begins to frantically rabbit his hips into you.

He's muttering in Spanish, like he's talking to himself. The thrusting slows, and you feel strangely full and warm. Miguel eases down until his larger frame is resting against yours, caging you under him while leaving his cock nestled inside your walls. His lips press to your neck and jaw, peppering you in what felt like gratitude. You were apprehensive and uncertain if this were really all there was. It gnaws at you, but you bring your arms to wrap around his neck.

"Does it hurt?"

Your eyes open and catch Miguel's worried stare. "No. Should it?" The man frowns and moves one of his hands to pet and paw over your abdomen. He looks unsure, and you realize this was equally new to him. After a moment, he reluctantly pulls out of you and moves to curl around your body. You were dwarfed by him as he wrapped you in his arms and drew you into his broad chest.

Affectionate was not a term you would ever associate with Miguel. He presses kisses into your hair and inhales your pleasant scent, his hand drifting down to cup your abdomen once more. As you settle into him, you look down and notice the slight bloat under his hand, like you'd pulled a muscle and were pushing it out. Fear prickles up your spine as he pets you there, your mind racing with dozens of thoughts.

Are there really eggs inside of me?

What happens when they hatch?

Miguel can feel you starting to tense, and he kisses your temple. "You'll be just fine." He churrs into your ear, making the color drain from your face. "Motherhood will suit you." He nipped your neck before laying his face into your shoulder. Miguel was giddy at the notion of any of those eggs taking. Imagine you swollen with his child, giving him a new life to love and raise, an opportunity to be a father again. It was all he wanted.

He falls asleep curled with you, his hand planted against your growing abdomen. You mourn the loss of your bodies autonomy, silently laying there in his arms while dozens of tapioca sized eggs clung to your hot womb and begin to grow. You were certain you could feel the process as it underwent. The sensation made your throat dry and eyes wet, knowing that Miguel, your captor, left a part of himself inside of you. He claimed you in every way, violating you so deeply that you knew there was no coming back.

As the day descends into night, you listen to him sleeping soundly and wonder if he was right.

If motherhood would suit you.

#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara headcanon #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #oscar isaac #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spiderman into the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman x reader #spider-man x reader

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lilac-5ky · 7 months

Text

i wanna tie the knot (Satoru xFem!Reader)

Chapter 1: Forget me not

Story Masterlist | Masterlist | Requests | AO3

Plot: Your boyfriend takes you on a romantic getaway that will potentially change the rest of your lives.

Themes: MDNI, Established Relationship, Vacation, Teasing, Bickering, Tooth-rotting Fluff, Comedy, Onsen Smut, Sensory Deprivation (bondage and blindfolds), Breeding Kink, Oral (f. receiving), Multiple Orgasms, Yukatas, Snarky!Fem!Reader who is done with Gojo's Shenanigans but loves him regardless, Soft!Dom Gojo, Unsolicited Digimon References, and Bucketloads of Pet Names (baby, princess, bunny, honeypie, sugarplum, and every other food nickname you can think of)

Word Count: 13.3k (i was inspired, sue me. rest of it will be smaller. i think.)

check a/n at the bottom

“Last one up the hill is a loser!” Those were the parting words you left your boyfriend with before you shot in the direction of the fields, wind in your hair and pollen in the air, Satoru’s voice barely audible over the light chuckle you shed behind.

You sprint across a sea of flowers in every shape, hue, and kind—from exuberant red poppies to bashful pink asters—spanning as far as the eye can see. You want nothing more than to spare a moment and halt; breathe into the combined aroma of the autumn blossoms before winter hushes them for good, but you can’t. The faster you run, the smaller his head becomes, until it’s a mere blotch of white on the faraway horizon.

You rest assured in your victory, a breathless smile forming on your lips as you reach the top. You glance over your shoulder, confident that the man who minutes ago (literally) flew you to Ikoma on another of his spontaneous 2-day trips is still there, lamenting ever giving you a headstart. However, no matter how hard you squint, you cannot seem to find him.

“What are we looking at?” A low-pitched voice scares the wits out of you, hummed near the shell of your ear in a way that’s exclusive to the cheeky tone it carries.

“S-Satoru!” You yelp, almost throwing yourself down the stiff slope.

“Satoru?” The man in question repeats his own name, cocking his head to the side with genuine curiosity. “I don’t know anyone by that name.”

“What are you—”

“I only know of a winner,” he points at his chest, successfully diverting your attention from the hand that rises to flick your forehead with such force that you stagger backward.

Both your fall and his punchline are postponed, one awaiting the other while you’re left floating mid-air, the infinity between your head and his boot serving as a safety net.

“And a loser.” Satoru concludes, his grin as bright as day, when he retracts his foot and lets you plummet into the fluffy flowerbed.

In the time it takes for you to blow a tuft of hair from your eyes and prop yourself onto your elbows, Satoru’s already taken his phone out and snapped as many pictures as humanely possible. You aren’t fazed. You’re used to his constant leg-pulling, as well as his 8895-picture collection of funny faces you’ve made over the course of your 7-year relationship.

Definitely in the 9000s now.

“Most guys would help their girlfriend up instead of calling her a loser.” You frown.

“Most guys wouldn’t date a slowpoke.” He gleefully chimes, zooming in on your face. “Come on. Smiiile.”

You poke your tongue out, and he snaps what is hopefully the last embarrassing frame of the day. Your frown resumes, downturned mouth and eyes narrowed at the wonderful azure sky.

“Good enough. Here, here.” He offers you his hand. “Don’t go crying on me.”

You accept only to give him a taste of his own medicine as you lock fingers and drag him down. He shouldn’t fall, but he does so anyway, collapsing beside you in a bundle of ridiculously long limbs he either sorts behind his head or splays on the grass surrounding him.

“Can’t believe you actually got me.” Satoru says in a pouty voice that goes against the complacent smile sitting on his lips. Idiot. “Woah, the view is much prettier from down here!” He marvels at the drifting clouds, pointing at one that resembles a duck. “Is this what it feels like to be you?”

You could do without his unnecessary comments spoiling the mood, but you’re willing to overlook them for the sake of your trip. With how hectic these past three weeks were—orchestrated curse attacks ping-ponging both him and his students across Tokyo—you doubted you’d have a moment to yourselves for the remainder of the year.

But keeping him on his toes is too much fun to pass up.

“You’d be more likeable if you weren’t such a showoff, Satoru.” You scoff, no malice whatsoever.

“Oh, really? ‘Cause I thought you liked me sooo much when you were going all oh, Satoru! Love it so much, Satoru! You’re the best, Satoru! Deeper, Satoru! Y-yes, just like that, ‘Toru last night.”

“Shut up!”

You plug his mouth with both hands, though that doesn’t discourage him from blabbing his version of last night’s events, perfectly replicating the breathy tone of your voice and the soft little moans you let out in between his frantic thrusts.

Your palms relocate to cover your ears, the bright color of your cheeks soon becoming a focal point for his mockery. Satoru plucks a crimson cosmos flower and holds it to your face, twirling it around until you rip it from his grasp. Regret washes over you as soon as you unfold your fingers and see the now-crumpled petals, a little piece of the universe laying lifeless in your palm.

“I’m surprised you can still see my face behind that thing.” You point at the dark fabric that conceals his eyes. “How many fingers am I holding up?” You wave your hand in his face, constantly alternating between the number of fingers you flex.

Satoru catches your wrist and decisively intertwines your fingers. “I see enough to know you look the cutest when you’re annoyed.”

“I’m not annoyed.” You declare.

“Are you sure?” His voice is deliberately sultry as he inches closer.

Flakes of color adorn his icy strands like confetti, a stark contrast to the murky blue of his two-piece uniform. You can feel his eyes—those lovely crystal orbs of his—burning holes through the blindfold to meet yours, and in this instant, when his minty breath ghosts over your lips and promises a kiss, you’re absolutely enamored by him.

That is, until he begins poking into your cheeks like a woodpecker, and your desire to strangle the life out of him overtakes the urge to give in.

“Okay! You did it! I’m—”

Before you can finish your sentence, his lips crash into yours, a stolen peck that lasts no longer than the fluttering of a butterfly’s wings, a soft fumble that leaves you craving for more. “Definitely annoyed.” Satoru flashes a boyish smile as he ruffles your hair and pulls you to your feet with him, his hand carrying you through a path of marigolds.

“Can you… just… slow… down?” You pant out, struggling to follow after his long strides.

But he doesn’t falter.

“Better get moving before you evolve into a Slowbro.” He sing-songs.

“Knock it off! I’m at least Jigglypuff tier.”

“Hmm,” he considers out loud. “I wouldn’t go as far as to call you useless, but—”

“Satoru!” You protest. “And I thought you liked Digimon.”

“Doesn’t hurt to know about the cheaper rip-off.”

“Pretty sure that’d be Digimon.”

“And I’m pretty sure even a regular Greymon beats your mascot into a pulp.” He beams.

Sigh.

You roll your eyes, letting him argue with himself about Digimon’s supremacy, until you reach a pool of flowers—myriad befallen fragments of the sky reflecting the vibrant blue of his eyes. You break free from his grasp and kneel among the blossoms, your fingertips skimming across the pointed petals with great care.

“Oh my God, Satoru! You know what this is?”

“Flowers…?” He changes his answer to pretty flowers upon your glaring.

“It’s forget-me-nots!”

The name doesn’t seem to ring a bell. He looks at you with the stupefied expression of a cattle who only knows how to moo and eat grass, invisible question marks spawning around his head.

“Their blooming period ends in May,” you explain. “Can’t believe we’d find some in October, and these—” You chop one of the stems and extend it to him. “These are so beautiful.”

Satoru glances between the flowers and your impressionable eyes, in which tiny stars seem to twinkle, his tone serious as he points out, “You must really love me.”

Your mouth hangs while you mull over your own words. Nope. Nothing you said remotely hints at the conclusion he alone reached.

“About time you showed me some respect.” Satoru huffs. “Don’t know about the royalty part, but—ah, it really can’t be helped. I’ll accept them if you insist.”

“Hold on a second.” His fingers close around a fistful of nothing as you retract your hand. “What respect, what royalty are you talking about?”

“Hm? You really don’t know?” You shake your head, and he brings out his phone, trading it for the flowers. “Says it all riiiight here.” He taps at the wall of text that lights up his screen.

Forget-me-not, also known as Myosotis flower, represents true love and respect and is an indisputable symbol of royalty. To King Henry IV—

“Tsk, these don’t even smell.” Satoru exclaims once he presses them to his nose.

“Not all flowers smell.” You turn off the screen and hand his phone back to him. “Your ability to google stuff and sell it as common trivia never ceases to amaze me.”

He lowers the stem to his lap and looks at you. Or so you think. You really can’t tell when he’s wearing that thing. “And? What do you make of it?”

“You just want to hear me say it, don’t you?” Your hands slide across his shoulders, fingers knitting behind his neck. “I love you, you silly, goofy, pervert specimen of a man.” You smile softly. “And I do respect you—sometimes—but best case scenario, you become prime minister. Better get that royalty idea out of your brain.”

“Not even if a mysterious big-scale accident takes all royalty on this planet out?” Satoru quips.

“Oh, just shut up and kiss me already.”

The sharp edges of his grin dissolve as he tilts his head enough for your lips to meet, tentative flicks of his tongue granting him access to your mouth. You feel the hard press of his chest once his arm wraps around your waist, nullifying the barriers that stand between you and the resounding beating of his heart.

There’s no innate technique in the way he touches; no immense amount of cursed energy in the way he kisses. None of the things that make him Gojo Satoru, the sorcerer who is hailed by all—and even himself—as the strongest are there. Only the raw vulnerability of a boy who’s used to carrying the order of the world on his shoulders and on a whim lets it crush him, because when he holds you, none of it seems to matter; because when he’s with you, he’s free to be Gojo Satoru and no more than that.

You watch through heavy eyelashes as he breaks a small stalk and brings it to your hair, securely tucking the flowers behind your ear. Warmth spreads from his slender fingers to your already feverish complexion. His palm cups your cheek, thumb swiping along your jawline with a soft expression perched on his lips, and you find yourself falling in love with him all over again.

“You deserve some love too, my…” Satoru ponders for a second, eventually snapping his fingers, “little MegaDarknessBagramon.”

A chuckle gets caught in your nostrils. “Your what now?”

“MegaDarknessBagramon.” He repeats without stuttering. “Way better than your fairy balloon cat.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Why do I get the feeling you made this one up?”

“Did not! MegaDarknessBagramon is—hmph.”

You cut him off with a fond kiss on his agape lips. That’s the only way to truly shut him up. At least in public.

“We should get going. I wanna go sightseeing before nightfall.”

You wander through the city for hours upon hours, losing yourselves among the countless maple-strewn paths and quaint religious sites of the countryside. Ikoma is a quiet place. No matter how many pebbles you lift or castle ruins you peek under, you won’t find a speck of evil lurking beneath. It’s as if the land is at peace with itself, and the people who tend to it do so without any curse tainting their souls. For once, Satoru’s presence feels redundant.

His hand stays on you the entire time you stroll through the temples and marketplaces, be it as fingers that childishly swing your palm up and down—left and right—or as an arm draped over both your shoulders, stirring you in a different direction whenever his phone rings. And it does ring. A lot. So much that you actively consider flinging it at the bottom of the Sunoura River.

The conversations are rather one-sided. Satoru mhms and uh-uhs his way out of everything the voices on the other line suggest, his expression contorting all the while he mocks Nanami’s grave tone, Yaga’s dismay, and Ijichi’s apprehension. He tries his best to keep you involved—putting Megumi on speaker while the boy informs him of how Nobara gave Yuji a concussion when she mistook him for a pickpocket—and presses playful kisses on your cheek when you unwittingly pout at his neglect.

This is the one drawback of dating such a sought-after man. You have to share him with the rest of the world, and even though you know exactly how many livelihoods depend on him, you selfishly want your boyfriend to yourself.

After his sixth answered call, something inside you snaps. You shake his hand off—he barely pays mind—and fish your phone out of your jacket, dialing the first number in your contact list. My Noodle Man. With a heart emoticon, he, himself, input. Still better than the long array of toothachingly sweet nicknames he’s come up with for you over the years.

Drawing the device away from his ear, Satoru glances at the incoming caller ID and shoots you what ought to be a perplexed look.

“Pick it up!” You mouth the words without voicing them.

The world comes to a standstill while you (presumably) stare into each other’s eyes. Star-shaped leaves rain down from the trees, a minor contribution to the red and gold garb that dresses the once pebbled pathway. It’s all too scenic—if one ignores the busy tone from his phone’s speaker, which echoes wide across the hollow forest, gracelessly interrupting Utahime’s incoherent squeaks.

Are you even listening? Gojo?

“Mhm!” He breaks into an awkward chuckle. “Sounds good to me.”

What? What are you on about, you white-haired swine?

“Hey, how ‘bout you hold onto that, and we talk about it when I return?”

You seriously doubt he knows what that and it are.

Satoru doesn’t leave Utahime the chance to reply, rushing through his words at the speed of light. “Okay, great! Gotta go now. Laterrr, bye, ciao, adieu!”

Don’t you dare hang—

“Too late for that.” He comments, an afterthought that doesn’t reach its target audience before fading into his next received call.

“Baby! How are you?” The grin on his lips is so blinding, you swear it accompanies a halo.

You draw a deep breath, fingernails digging sharply at the tender flesh on the inside of your palm. “Satoru.”

“What is it, baby?” He dares ask as if you haven’t been shooting daggers at him the entire time, arms folded over your chest and eyebrow trembling above your narrowed eye.

“Satoru, the fact that I can only speak to you through the phone is insane!” Your voice climbs up a whole octave over the final word, annoyance interlaced within your tone.

“Huh?” He smiles sheepishly, head drooping to his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“What I mean is, I’m standing right in front of you, begging you for an ounce of attention, and you haven’t put the phone down for ten goddamn seconds since we left the shrine, which, by the way, happened two hours ago!”

His smile dwindles, and you worry you might’ve been too harsh. It’s not like he has a choice. Regular people get to dictate their own fate, filling up their plates with however many or few obligations and freedoms they can stomach. Not Satoru. His share of responsibility was assigned to him at birth, and as aloof as he can be, he’s not the type to let all hell break loose just yet.

“Hey, um—look. If you were busy, we could’ve just taken a rain check and stayed in town. You know I wouldn’t mind holing up at my place, ordering some Chinese, and frying our retinas with another movie marathon. No need to string each other along for—what are you doing?”

Without evidence of anyone or anything approaching, Satoru twists his neck in every direction possible, searching far and wide among the tree foliage and the water streaming on the sides of the walkway, going as far as to check the gap between his own legs. Instinctively, you repeat his routine, glancing over your shoulder when you realize he’s got his eyes on you—not on you, but through you.

“Are you sure you are here? Can’t see you.” Satoru brings the phone to his lips, executing an amateur’s set of jumping jacks while waving his hands around and shouting your name at the top of his lungs, doing his absolute best to appear clueless when he passes you by and uses your head like an armrest. “Don’t tell me you got out-heighted by the trees.”

Are you sure you want to permanently delete the contact My Noodle Man <;3?

Cancel

“I’m leaving.”

You manage exactly two steps before you are halted by two arms whose length smothers you—a proper vice that closes around your shoulders and immobilizes you against what feels like a colossal tree trunk but is your (occasionally) loving boyfriend’s chest.

“Let go, Satoru!” You try to shake him off, but your conviction is about as strong as the frail set of bones he aspires to crush.

“C’mon, you just got here!” Satoru begs, his mouth so close to your ear that you feel his voice shooting straight into your heart, goosebumps erupting down your spine. “Don’t leave, mm? Mm? Pleaaase?”

You groan, dragging your feet forward, but it’s impossible to progress when a well-over-six-foot boulder weighs you down. He’s viciously clinging onto you, nuzzling to your cheeks one at a time, and humming at every kiss he prints on your grimace. His frosty spikes tickle, softer than silk and fluffier than the clouds above.

Couldn’t he have been like this five minutes ago?

“Doesn’t matter if I’m here or not.” Bitterness pools in your mouth from where your teeth bite into your gums. Your voice faint. “You’ll be on your stupid phone, anyway.”

“Is that why you’re acting all upset? You want my attention?” The lack of answer prompts him to continue, a low chuckle setting the mood for what comes next.

“If you want my attention, then… all you have to do is ask for it.”

It’s at this point that you realize more than your upper bodies are touching, his knees slightly bent for his hips to press against your ass—and with them, you feel something else pressing too. Something that oughtn’t be there when all you’ve been doing is bickering and fooling around with each other.

You gulp hard, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Satoru. His head rests fully upon the elbow on your shoulder, covered eyes definitely taking in the blush that’s become somewhat of a second nature since you got together. He’s effortlessly seductive, and you’re thankful for both his typically childish demeanor and the blindfold around his forehead, or else you’d be in big trouble denying him.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe what?” Satoru coos in a condescending tone.

You try to look away, but he won’t let you, jaw tilting atop his other arm. There’s no hiding from him, and the stupidly smug smile that begs you to erase it.

“…yes.”

“Yes what? Cheating won’t do. You need to say it.”

“That’s rich coming from the guy who won by teleporting to the finish line,” you mumble.

He doesn’t yield, and you know you’re going to be stuck there for a long time unless you stroke his ego. “Fine. Please gimme your undivided attention, oh grand sorcerer, Gojo Satoru.”

“Wasn’t so hard, was it?” He croons contentedly. “Now, how much do you want it?”

“I changed my mind. I want a divorce.”

“We need to first be married in order to divorce.” He points out, rubbing salt in your wound like your next reply won’t be “You’re the one who refuses to settle down,” but it’s not. Just this once, you bite back your tongue.

Your restraints loosen as Satoru shakes his phone into your face, demonstrating how the device turns off with a click of his thumb. An airy laughter rings in your ears, and just like that, he reverts to the kind of man who giggles at knock-knock jokes and thinks it’s peak comedy when he mixes gummy worms in your cereal.

“No more calls!” He declares. “For a limited time only, strongest sorcerer Gojo Satoru is at your service.”

You snort, fighting back a smile that ends up crinkling around your eyes. “You make it sound like you’re a genie.”

“Hmm, you could always try rubbing me and see what happens. Might grant you a wish or two.”

You laugh at his attempt to flirt, trying and mostly failing to distract yourself from what was previously pushing against your body. It should embarrass you that two of your two wishes are sexual in nature, but that’s entirely on him, his innuendos, and the raw lust you’ve missed seeing transform his eyes from the sparkling color of the sea to one found a thousand meters under the surface.

Maybe three.

“Where’s the catch?”

“What catch?” He chirps.

“I know you, ‘Toru. With you, there’s always a catch.”

One moment you feel his breath on your skin, and the other you see him standing before you, his arms flexing behind his torso while he tips forward—a toothy grin stretching on his lips.

“Well, a fee is always due where there are services involved.” He takes a page from Mei’s book.

“The Gojo family vault running out of cash, so you lookin’ to extort your girlfriend?” You quip. “Go on. Name your price.”

“Oh, y’know.” His shoe traces a circle on the ground. “Just you saying what an amazing, handsome, charming, wonderful, funny, kind, and handsome boyfriend you have for the world to hear.”

You browse the acres of trees surrounding you; there is not a soul to be seen or heard within a close radius. What world?

“You said handsome twice.”

“Intentionally.” He deadpans.

You return his playfulness by saying he forgot to add infuriating to the list, even though you’ve already decided to humor him. Cute is more like it.

“My boyfriend is the most—”

“Does your boyfriend have no name? Take it from the top.”

You sigh, “My boyfriend, Gojo Satoru, is the most amazing, handsome, wonderful—”

“Ah-ah-ah!” Satoru intervenes, raising his forefinger in objection. “Forgot charming!”

Your teeth clatter, gritting a growl.

“Only one life left. Better get it right this time or,” he draws an imaginary line across his neck, faking a choking sound as he’s supposedly decapitated.

With both hands around your mouth, you shape a cone and shout so loudly that countless birds betray their hiding spots between the tree branches as they pour out into the sky. “My boyfriend, Gojo Satoru, is the most amazing, handsome, charming, wonderful, funny, kind, and handsome again, boyfriend in existence who totally didn’t put me up to this!” In a quiet voice, “Happy now?”

“Full marks!” He gleefully shoves a thumbs up in your face. “Now I’m all yours and will be for the rest of the night. Feel free to make the best of me while you can.”

“Then, can I get my first wish granted now, Mr. Genie?”

“What is it?”

He stands still as you bring your hands to his face and cup his cheeks, fingers teasing the seams of his blindfold. “Lemme see your eyes.”

“Hmm? You wanna see them? Why—you missed them?”

A nod. “Don’t put me through that same speech again. They are pretty, and yes, I miss them. We haven’t been seeing each other as often, so. C’mon. Lemme see them.”

You try to lower the fabric, but the harder you pull, the more it seems to resist. “Satoru…?”

“Mm?” He licks his lips. “What is it, sugarplum?”

Your eyes roll so far back into your skull that you’re afraid they’ll slip down your esophagus. “I said, I wanna see your eyes. May I?”

He cocks his head in consideration, entertaining an affectionate smile before he denies you with a cheeky little nope!

“Why not?”

This is the first time he denies you.

“For a multitude of reasons.” He states wryly. Uncharacteristically for him.

You wait for an explanation—a slight opening between his lips. His tongue lays flat against his teeth, darting upward as if he’ll finally say something, but he doesn’t. This happens about four times before he sternly announces, “The sun.”

“The sun…?” You glance at the sky, a veil of darkness slowly descending upon the peachy gradients of the melting clouds. “You mean the one that just set?”

“I wasn’t done talking. My other reason is…” He motions for you to get closer. You lean in as instructed, patiently hanging on his lips as if he is about to open the envelope and reveal the name of a talent show winner, yet his answer isn’t any more satisfying than the previous one is. “The people.”

“Satoru, we haven’t seen a live human in over an hour. What are you talking about? And since when were others an issue?”

“You don’t know what it feels like to be me!” Satoru exclaims in an exaggerated tone as he shakes your hands off and turns in the opposite direction. “Having everyone stare at you wherever you go, people asking, Sensei, please! We need to see your wonderful eyes! and getting called Six Eyes like you’re a piece of meat. Should’ve known you wouldn’t be any better than them, Y/N.”

You blink a number of times, “stunned” being too little of a word to describe your surprise at his sudden burst. He always had a knack for the dramatic, but with the way the back of his palm is pressed against his forehead, he’s closer to an Academy Award than ever.

“Satoru.” Your hand moves to his shoulder without ever closing the distance. Damn infinity. “What is up with you today?” You ask half-jokingly, half-concerned. “Acting insecure; you are the one who doesn’t miss the chance to show your eyes off to everyone, and when I ask you to show them, you pull this—why?”

“It’s because I only have eyes for you.” He smirks full of confidence, roughing up your hair and then bringing his thumb below your chin, holding it up for a kiss. You don’t even stop him. Hell, you don’t even close your eyes. You are too baffled to.

You regain agency over your words only after he starts parading away from you, his feet spending more time in the air than they do on land. “Hey, wait! What was that? What does you having eyes only for me have to do with anything?”

His chuckle precedes his answer. “You’ll see when we reach the inn. Last down the foothills is a double loser!”

“Ahhh, that was soooo good! I feel—ugh, reborn!”

Satoru’s joints click as he stretches both arms behind his back and over his head, the striped sleeves of his gray-colored yukata rolling down his elbows. He doesn’t mind that he’s blocking the doorway or that the long face you’ve been sporting since you parted at the lobby threatens to hit the floor at his theatrics.

Your onsen experiences differed by miles. While he was off soaking and splashing by himself at the vacant men’s baths, you were forced to endure 45 excruciating minutes in the company of a group of bachelorettes who wouldn’t shut up about the “dreamy masked man” who booked the single most expensive suite in the compound, rewriting his life story with lewd fantasies that—for as long as you could help it—would remain as such. Unrealized.

“The temperature was just perfect, the right amount of hot without scorching, and the minerals already circulate through my bloodstr—ouch!”

You shove past him and his impromptu review of the hot springs, temporarily giving up on the blockbuster that your mind crafts—Blood Bath: Revenge of the Hot Spring Killer 2—in favor of a spot where you can drop off your toiletries.

The room, or rather, the rooms, are vast in space and rich in furnishing. Opaque sliding doors separate the main area from the wardrobe and the bathroom, drawn to provide a direct view of the ryokan’s rock garden. Tatami mat flooring is indiscriminately strewn, replaced by granite tiles around the indoor hot tub. Raised alcoves host colorful ikebana vases; a couple of ukiyo-e scrolls depicting Mount Yoshino hang from opposing sides on the walls. Lastly, futons are neatly spread in the far back, with a short-legged table spanning at the center of the sitting space.

Bingo.

You settle beside it, laying your belongings on the floor while scrutinizing the couple’s gift box on top, regional specialties packed beside a ceremonial tea set that bears the inn’s logo. You flip the box on its back and attempt to decipher the cursive letters just as Satoru steals it from your hands, wasting no time ripping through the luxurious wrapping paper and tossing a block of brown-colored kuzumochi in his mouth.

“Gotta mmph hring Hahami ‘n’ Meghumi ‘ere.” He refuses to keep his remarks (or food) in his mouth, flour dusting the corners of his lips. “That oughta brighten ‘em up.” He says once he swallows, bringing his cup of welcoming tea to his teeth and cringing away at the sheer bitterness of the matcha. “Bleugh, this tastes like poison!”

You break into a quiet chuckle as you scrub his chin, sleeve curled over your fist, and thumb running stray along his frown. Cute. No, beyond cute. Adorable.

“Don’t blame the tea when your blood type is caster sugar, Satoru.”

“But that’s the secret to my sweetness.” He quips, returning to his previous floured-lip state as he flings a second kuzumochi into his mouth, supposedly to wash the bitterness away. “Think they sell more of these in the gift shop?”

You roll your eyes, humoring him with a teasing sure.

Making it back to your spot, you down your share of matcha in one go, savoring the delightful tartness the beverage leaves on your tongue. “‘Tis not even that bad.” You comment, pouring yourself a refill.

A certain form of silence prevails over the space, during which words aren’t spoken but expressed through various hums of content, with Satoru loudly nibbling on his loot and you quietly sipping on your tea. Moonlight filters the atmosphere through the semi-transparent shoji doors, casting playful shadows that dance along the subtle movements of his fingers.

He’s the puppeteer, and you his devoted audience, easily convinced that there’s genuine mastery in the way he handles his instruments and earnestly keen on trying them out before their numbers are further decimated. A pinch is at the ready, your thumb and forefinger making strategic advances towards the box of delicacies when a counter-offering presents itself to your lips.

“Say ahhhh!” Satoru waves the kuzumochi in your face, your teeth losing to the speed of his fingers as he retracts his hand at the last minute. “C’mon, c’mon!” He giggles, again dangling the bait. “Open wider. Ahhh! Ahhh!”

Your nose scrunches up. You don’t trust his intentions, and you have every right not to, considering he makes you chase after the confectionery with an open mouth, utilizing his infinity to keep you at bay whenever you get remotely close to succeeding.

“Satoru!” You yelp unamused.

“Sorry, sorry!” His apology sounds the opposite of truthful. “Promise, that was the last time. One big ahhh f’me! Ahhh—c’mon, it’s really good! You won’t regret it.”

And it’s no surprise you come to immediately regret it, your tongue hanging loose from your mouth, barely connecting with the dessert before your aghast eyes witness it being devoured by him, so quickly that you lose the opportunity to protest.

There’s no one to blame but yourself, though that doesn’t stop you from pouncing and tackling him to the floor. Two fists grab at the lapels of his yukata, fingers curling around the fabric, while you violently shake him like an unresponsive vending machine, urging him to spit out your eaten cash.

Satoru snorts, and he chuckles, and he laughs, a boisterous symphony of sounds pitted against one another as he, himself, refuses to fight back, merely showcasing the empty contents of his mouth and baring his teeth into a haughty grin that agitates you even more.

“You need to step up your game, munchkin. Or else you’ll never get your prize.”

“And you need to stop tricking me every chance you get!” You hiss, a sigh casting your head backward as you swipe the hair from your forehead. “If you played a fair game, then maybe—just maybe—I would actually win!”

“Aww, baby.” A lofty purr makes you awfully aware of the fact that you’re still straddling him, knees planted on both sides of his hips and thighs squeezing tightly around his crotch. “That’s so cute! Thinking you could ever stand a chance against me.”

“I could!”

“Mm, I don’t think so.” Satoru’s palms glide along your curves, taking full advantage of the position to rub circles that spread over your ass and close around your thighs; slender fingers tantalizing as they ghost over your exposed skin. “I’m quite strong, in case you haven’t noticed.”

He makes you a living example of his words, giddily watching your self-control crumble when he forces you down against his body. A complacent smirk rises on his lips, countering the soft gasp that evades yours.

“See?” He chuckles. “Unmatched.”

“You’re quite annoying too.” You huff, biting your lips into a straight line while you deviate from staring at his face—a grave mistake.

All the wrestling has caused the lapels of his yukata to recede, the fabric so loose it barely counts as hiding a thing. Delicate collarbones pave the path toward his toned chest, rosy claw marks littering his creamy complexion (and it swells you with pride to know you’re the only one to have ever blemished his spotless body) down to the few unruly frosty hairs that span over his sculpted abdomen, and lead lower—much lower than your eyes can currently follow.

Goddamn it, Satoru.

“Is that why you’re grinding against me? Because I’m annoying you?”

His accusation makes your heart sink inside your chest as you are found guilty of a crime you unwittingly committed. Your hips were swaying back and forth against his hardened cock, guided by a firm grasp that failed to emulate the typically lazy manner with which he’d keep you anchored whenever you rode him.

(Aww, bunny. Keep bouncing like that, and you’ll hit your head. Me? Help? Don’t be silly. How you gonna grow stronger if I put in all the work, mm? Better be satisfied with what you have throbbing in ya already. Now, where were we? Right—Ijichi and his…)

Except you were in the middle of a fight, and you’re supposed to be holding a grudge that seems to matter less by the minute.

“Hey, baby?” His thumb harbors softness when he cups your cheek, candied voice flowing from pretty, pink lips that glisten under the pale moonlight. “Think you can be annoyed with your clothes off?”

You almost succumb to his will, the lines between vexation and lust becoming increasingly blurred as you try to get your point across a final time.

“Y’know, I too like sweets!” Your declaration practically melts into his touch. “Just because I let you do the honors doesn’t mean I don’t want to try some. It means I’m a better girlfriend than you.”

“No arguing here.” Satoru beams. “Don’t think I could be a better girlfriend if I tried.”

“Satoru!” You exclaim for the millionth time that day.

“Too early to be screaming my name.”

“I’m serious!”

“And I’m not?” He gasps, hand moving to his chest as if your words actually damaged his impenetrable ego. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. My girlie is such a meanie.”

Your eyes perform a semi-circle, knowing better than to venture beyond his neck. His face is cute, in that boyish way everyone swoons over, but his body is another story. The kind you read with the blinds lowered and the lights dim, colored cheeks, and giddy chuckles muffled by your bedding.

Sigh.

“How can I take you seriously when you say such things?”

“Never said you have to do it seriously. Just takin’ me is good enough.”

“Stop that!”

Swatting his hand from your face, you feel it join its twin behind your ass. You don’t want him to catch on to how affected you are simply by mounting him, but as your hips are forcibly rocked into his crotch, the wet patch your slick paints on his yukata reveals all that your tongue struggled to keep hidden.

“Jerk!”

Satoru grins, holding you tight against his lap as he sits the both of you up. Your noses are suddenly found brushing, and his lips expel a heavy breath your lips eagerly inhale, the proximity dizzying. “Maybe if I gave my girl some sugar, she’d turn sweeter.”

“Ugh, this is exactly what I meant!” You growl in frustration. “Satoru, I swear, if you use one more lame line on me, I’ll—”

Whatever was supposed to come next is drowned out by his tongue as it presses against your mouth, enticing your lips into an all-consuming kiss that threatens to eat you alive. Warm palms hook below your legs, turning scorching as they roll your yukata above your thighs and help secure your knees around his torso, caressing every inch of supple flesh they unveil.

You’re overcome by need in an instant, and judging from how ardently your boyfriend’s cupping your cheeks, as if he’s either trying to breathe life into you or suck it out of your lungs, it’s safe to say it goes both ways.

His cock rubs against your clit through his clothes. He’s so hard, and you are so wet that one thrust would be enough to sheathe him fully into your cunt and meld you into one. But that won’t do. If there’s one thing Satoru doesn’t rush, that’s the way he fucks. He wants to savor everything—every kiss, every touch, every whimper, every moan, every last drop of your essence that dribbles onto his fingers and drenches his tongue like the finest, most delectable nectar meant solely for him—before indulging the twitching sensation in his balls.

There’s no reason for today to be any different.

A string of saliva is cut in the middle as Satoru pulls away, your half drooling down your jaw and his collected by his tongue.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, baby! You were saying?” He coos in an awfully smug tone that barely registers over your incessant panting.

“Hm? Nothing? Thought so.” He deduces after turning his ear to your mouth, and for a second, you’re tempted to bite his earlobe right off.

But somehow you don’t, and in his book, that counts as obedience, which in turn qualifies for a reward.

He plants a kiss on your nose, tender enough to distract you from the no-good smirk plastered on his lips. “How about I do that other thing you asked for?”

Your mind traverses a foggy terrain. You’ve asked him for a lot of things in the recent past. Not overloading Aiko’s bowl with cat food the minute he sees it empty. Not surprise-hugging you when you’re walking alone at night and are unaware of his presence. Not rapping your morning routine to the tune of the hemorrhoid cream commercial. Not calling you munchkin or dwarf when it’s him who’s the long-lost descendant of the legendary tree people.

The list goes on and on with plenty of whimsical examples, and you realize, there are more things you’ve explicitly asked him not to do than do, with your one recurrent request being that he get you a ring made from neither fried dough nor grass blades.

“Close your eyes.” You do as you’re told, thinking you’re oh-so-clever when you try to peer at him through downcast eyelashes, only to be shot down by his technique. “Uh-uh! No peeking!” The last thing your eyes see before they’re covered by his left palm are two fingers that hook under his blindfold and tug it upward.

“Why the secrecy?” You ask impatiently. “Afraid I’ll be blinded by your beauty? Must I remind you I’ve seen you sleeping with your mouth open? The magic is gone.”

“Is it?” His chuckle louder than the elusive sound of his blindfold coming undone. “And here my eyes were thinking you’ve turned even more beautiful than the last time they saw you. How unfortunate.”

There’s a certain humility that comes with someone as ethereal as Gojo Satoru calling you beautiful to your face, but right now, your mind remains fixated on one word and one word only. Eyes. My eyes. His eyes.

“You took it off?” Excitement colors your tone. “Lemme see!”

“Baby, baby, baby.” Satoru playfully chides. “When will you learn to be patient, mm? Don’t you know that good things come to those who wait?”

Seven years is an awful long time to be waiting around.

Eventually, you feel his hand be drawn away, but before light can enter your eyelids, darkness engulfs them again. Cold satin now covers your brow, the kind of silky material you’ve previously only been able to experience via your fingertips as they yanked and hurled it across your bedroom walls.

“Tada!” The unmistakable sound of palms clasping. “You can open them now.”

“Satoru, what—what is this?” You mutter, tight-lipped, as if your ability to speak was also impaired. “I asked to see your eyes, not play suikawari.”

“Aw, shoot. Should I go ask for a watermelon?”

You sigh, fingers withdrawing into fists atop your thighs. You wonder how many years of jail time killing your boyfriend warrants, but then again, you doubt you’d possibly achieve what countless others have failed at.

“You wanted a rematch, didn’t you?” His hands move against your own, soft thumbs rolling reassuring circles around your wrists. He brings them to his lips, printing a kiss on each knuckle set. “Better strike while the iron’s hot. Besides, this game’s so easy, even you got a chance at winning,” he scoffs a laugh at how quick you’re to escape, pulling your hands back as if you were struck by an electric current. “All you hafta do is sit back and answer a few questions. Pretty easy, right?”

His voice rings close to your ear. You realize he’s in fact closer when he takes his affections to your cheeks, shamelessly bribing you with the sweetest kisses he can muster.

It’s working.

“I didn’t agree to this.” You state as his jaw perches on your shoulder, strong biceps caging your body while he reaches around your waist to undo the bow of your yukata.

“Really?” His breath travels south, hot steam depriving you of the opportunity to feel any real cold as you’re slowly stripped of your garments—and yet you still shudder when his lips close below your throat and suck onto your sweet spot. “‘Cause you seemed pretty agreeable when you were all ready to jump my bones a minute ago.”

“Th-that’s because—”

The fabric slides down your shoulders like butter, melting into the soft curves and pebbled peaks of your tits before it pools around your hips. His thighs tense up, blood rushing straight to his swollen cock head while he cradles you, eating you up with the eyes you so fondly reminisce.

“Aw, pumpkin! Won’t you look at that!” Your cheek is captured between his fingers, lightly pinched. “You’re blushing through the blindfold.”

You feel so vulnerable, and you aren’t sure whether that’s because you’re straddling your fully clothed boyfriend while being fully naked yourself or because everything around you is amplified, from the way his finger pads dance around your nipples, to the fruity shampoo remnants lingering in his tousled hair.

“‘Toru, I—”

You cut yourself off. You don’t want to be the kind of woman who has to beg her own boyfriend for dick.

“Will you still be blushing as I fuck your cute face?”

But you’re about to be.

“Hey, I was just joking!” Your hands are seized without accomplishing their goal of removing the blindfold. “Don’t want you losing before the game begins, do we?”

“‘Toru, just—I don’t care about any stupid games, okay?” You whine, voice purposely pathetic in case he feels generous enough to cave in. “I just want you. I need you. Please?”

“And you will have me, baby.” Satoru soothes, shifting both your hands to a single grip while he digs into the pile of clothes at your side. “A promise is a promise. I’ll pamper my precious girl to her heart’s content if that’s what she wants.” A string too thin to be a rope wraps around your wrists, piecing them together. “Love her all night long; teach her all the things she misses when her eyes are wide open. My sweet honeypie, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“I’d also like it if you quit it with all those corny nicknames.” You answer, having absolutely no idea as to how the floor is replaced with the futon when you haven’t budged an inch. At least you think you haven’t.

“You love them.” The grin strong in his voice as he lays you down and climbs on top of you, pinning your bound wrists above your head. “Like you love me, my little sugarboo.”

“I’m rolling my eyes.”

“Wow, this early? Have barely touched you.”

“I’m rolling my eyes again!” You repeat at a higher volume.

“Of course you are. This isn’t too tight, is it?” A finger curls between your binds. You shake your head, and he pecks it, gently caressing your hair while situating his knee between your thighs, bouncing it against your pussy. “You’ll see, you’re gonna love every minute of this,” Satoru continues, his hand playful as his fingers toy with yours.

You have little to no agency over your body when Satoru lifts your leg and folds it onto your stomach, his lips held against yours and his tongue slotted in between. He kisses you slowly, like he has all the time to unravel you, and in a way, he does. He could stretch this moment to infinity, savoring your lips until they’re all swollen and coated with spit, his name replacing every word in your vocabulary while he wanders lower, dragging his warm mouth against your skin and smearing wet kisses down your tits.

“The mochi weren’t half as sweet as you,” he murmurs, soft lips clamping over your nipple, the suspicion of sharp teeth grazing the sensitive bud. “I’ll buy you some in the morning.”

“Y-you don’t need to,” you huff, your chest heaving with one heavy breath after another as he takes hold of your other nipple, alternating between pinching and rolling it around with his thumb, repeating the same ritual of licking and sucking as the nipple in his mouth changes.

“Mm, but I want to.” He insists. “I want to spoil my baby and give her everything she wants. I’d give her the world if I could.”

And yet, you won’t marry her.

His smile ghosts over your flesh, gradually fading as he approaches your navel. “But first, I need to fuck her pretty pussy, mm? That’s what my princess wants, doesn’t she?”

Reluctantly, you nod, a lump forming in your throat when his fingers find purchase beneath your thighs and spread them apart. His biceps curl around your calves as he mounts your knees on his shoulders, peppering your inner thighs with more featherlight kisses that continuously inch closer to your entrance.

He is so attentive when he wants to be, but in his core, Satoru is a selfish lover. He gives, and he gives, and he gives more than you can take, his satisfaction lying in your cute little moans and the tiny arch of your back whenever he pushes you to your limits.

“Thank you for the food!” He croons, and you swear to hate yourself for almost chuckling at his distasteful joke.

He was always like that, to the point where suggesting he bewitched you into falling for him isn’t an exaggeration so much as an undeniable reality. Him, who with his cheeky smiles, exaggerated gestures, and mirthful snickering, conquered your thoughts and claimed the mushy land of your brain as if it were the moon. Him, whose dimples crease around his lips every time you kiss and whose bright blue irises bloom behind your shut eyelids. Him, who’d remain the most extraordinarily beautiful person, even if your eyes never opened again.

Him, whose plump lips round around your clit as he finally takes it in his mouth, suckling on the small bundle of nerves as if he expects it to dissolve into liquid sugar.

“F-fuck!”

Your hips buck into his face, lifting from the covers while your hands maintain their position. If it weren’t for his stupid infinity, you’d be threading your fingers through his hair and pulling him as far into you as humanely possible, but for now, you can only chant his name, feeling his shoulders tense up while his hungry tongue runs laps between your slick folds.

“I’m so lucky you aren’t bound to a region. I’d have to stockpile on you every single day.” Satoru hums against your clit, the vibrations from his mellifluous tone translating into pleasurable tingles up your spine. “My favorite specialty,” he chuckles, sounding so lovable that you can’t hold it against him.

He doesn’t kid about you being like a dessert to him, his tongue greedily soaking up all the juices that gush from your hole right down his chin. He moans in pure delight, perhaps more than you do, the uninterrupted flow of compliments making you feel at least worthy of a Michelin star. So pretty. So sweet. So perfect. The same combination of words he’s been repeating since you first got together, as if his fascination never truly ran out.

The sounds get more salacious while he fucks his tongue into your entrance, and you throw your head back, feeling so unbelievably light that if it weren’t for his hold on your thighs, you would be floating straight to the ceiling. His thumbs stretch out your lips for him to reach deeper, pointy nose rubbing deliciously against your swollen clit while he persistently works your body to its high, making out with your nether lips like he’s kissing your actual mouth.

“Feels s-so good, ‘Toru,” you whimper, struggling to keep your legs from closing around his head.

“Yeah? Like that?” Satoru chuckles, and it would’ve pushed you over the edge if his tempo wasn’t disrupted. “I like it too. Love eating your little pussy. I can tell she loves me too, doesn’t she?”

You can’t believe that the man who’s making all the stars of the night sky appear in the confinement of your tied eyes is the very same man who’s addressing your pussy as a she.

“Hm? You’re hurting my feelings here.” He sounds pouty, though you can picture the sadistic glint in his eyes as his teeth sink into your clit, softly enough to not induce any pain, but hard enough to bring your hips to a stutter.

“Y-yes, she does—fuck, my pussy loves you, S-satoru!” You cry out.

“Hah, that’s more like it.”

Your voice shatters into a million broken sobs which only motivate Satoru to keep going. He nibbles on the sensitive nub, darted tongue inflicting short and rapid flicks that cut right through the coiling tension in your guts with precision that’s exclusive to him and the countless times he’s had you fall apart with his mouth alone.

Your fingers clench while your toes curl, thighs trembling as succulent juices spurt all over him, and, God—how you wish you could see his pretty face ruined like that.

“Mm, baby, you always cum so much for me.”

Without letting a drop go to waste, Satoru licks a luscious stripe between your slit, rolling your essence in his mouth to relish the taste.

“Y’know, I could just make time freeze and eat you out for hours. Days,” he lays a kiss on top of your mound. “Weeks,” one for every thigh. “Months,” his lips on your clit making you wince from pleasure. “Years.” He snickers, marveling at how easily you respond to his touch. “You’d want that, sweets? All that pleasure, just for you. Think you could take it?”

Not knowing better, you nod, and he laughs. You aren’t familiar enough with Jujutsu to be horrified by the prospect of reliving the same moment over and over again, literally getting fucked dumb in a way his technique has never achieved on another.

“Alright, time to turn off the cheats.” He announces after you manage to regain your breath, and it isn’t until his question that you’re reminded of the whole “game” ordeal.

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“What?” Your voice scratches its way out of your throat, coarse and laden with desire.

“You asked me the same question earlier, remember?” His fingertips tickle as they drum against your stomach. “At the plateau?”

I’m surprised you can still see my face behind that thing. How many fingers am I holding up?

“The one you didn��t answer?”

“Four, five, two, four, one.” The number of fingers he presses on your skin changes depending on the number he calls. You’d be impressed if you’d actually kept track of the digits you’d shown him, and they weren’t picked at random.

“So, how many?”

You try to pull yourself together, calmly considering your options. He wouldn’t start with five or four. The first three numbers are more likely, and taking a leap of faith—

“One.” You lock in your answer, with an excitable cheer following suit.

“Wow, my girl is so smart!” Satoru praises. “Got it on her first try!”

“Quit treating me like I’m one of your students.”

“Oh, trust me.” He runs his middle finger down your abdomen, emphasizing his point with a tap on your clit. “I’d never treat any of my students the way I treat you. Or anyone else for that matter,” he trails off, gathering some of the slick that’s trickled out of your slit, and brings it into his mouth, finger coated with spit the next time he touches you.

“All of my special treatment is reserved for my special girl.”

His finger prods lazily into your cunt, thick enough for every ridge to be lusciously dragged against your velvety walls, and long enough to delve straight into your pulsing core.

To his disappointment, there isn’t much of a reaction—save for the occasional hitched breath. You can take it. For seven years now, you’ve been trained on his deft fingers and the many tricks they play, but when his thumb begins circling your clit in tandem with his thrusts, your facade cracks.

“Aw, you didn’t think it’d be this easy, did you, bunny?” Satoru coos in fake sympathy, as his thumb zigzags feverishly about your clit, the finger in your cunt curving in a repetitive come-hither motion.

“‘T-toru, please—ngh!” You whine, your lower half squirming on its own accord. “You said you’d let me win!”

“Let you?” A complacent smile takes shape on his face, and although you cannot see it, you can hear it chiming in his tone. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Y-you evil man!”

He giggles at your supposed insult, one moment asking if that’s the best you can do, and the next cheering you on by saying he’s rooting for you.

Asshole.

Heat runs rampant between the lowest pit in your stomach and the apex of your flushed cheeks, the blindfold soaking sweat off your forehead like a headband. You are close; pressure steadily building only to wither away once Satoru retracts his hand.

Asshole!

“Sorry, pretty. Got a little carried away, but no hard feelings, hm?” Your tormentor asks, rubbing your clit at a pace far too slow to be soothing. “Now, how many fingers am I holding up?”

“T-two.” You answer, your sanity chipping the longer your hole remains puckering around nothing.

“Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner!”

You kiss your teeth as Satoru angles his wrist with your pussy and shoves two of his fingers in, curling them against the spongy spot that swells with each pump, and when that isn’t enough to muffle your cries, you bite down onto your lip, choking on every sob you’ve been withholding. Last thing you want is to give your next-room neighbors another reason to fantasize about your boyfriend.

“It’s fine. You can let it all out.” Satoru reads your mind. “Room’s soundproof, though there isn’t much you can say, right?”

Your walls flutter around his fingers in utter bliss. You hate (love) how his words get to your body before your brain can process them; every remark you’d typically deflect, seeping under your skin and igniting as fire in your loins.

“Don’t worry,” he chuckles, maintaining a steady rhythm even with his thumb swiping at your clit. “I’ll be the one doing all the talking from now on.”

“Sh-shut up!” You manage to say before returning to your three-word prayer of little oh-my-god’s and ah-ah-ah’s.

“But you love my mouth.” Satoru argues back. “And now you love my fingers. How long they feel stretching you out, how deep they can go.”

He’s buried to his knuckles, slowing down for the sake of plunging his digits further into your wet cunt, the lewd squelching bouncing across the walls along with the obscene sounds you let out.

“You’re practically fucking yourself on them.”

Your boyfriend’s words cloud your brain, your body acting purely on instinct as you begin to hump his hand. Satoru doesn’t stand in the way; rather, he assists with a sturdy hold that has your hips slamming against his fingers, repeating the motion until your creamy essence comes pouring down warmly over his palm.

You aren’t sure whether the white speckles in your vision stem from the gates of heaven welcoming you to the other side or the light fixtures on the ceiling, becoming certain only after the outline of a halo brushes against your forehead. It’s hard to call the man slumped above you an angel when his one hand is cupping your cunt, the fingers of the other tasked with undoing the knot around your wrists.

You are free to move—or about as free as one can be when every joint in their body begs to drag them down, your limbs strewn over the sheets like those of a tattered rag doll. The blindfold is still on, albeit slightly lowered over your nose. A little more wriggling and you can take it off, yet that too requires effort you lack.

Satoru says something that fails to register in your trance. He’s mocking you. He’s praising you. He’s mocking you while praising you, and praising you while mocking you, because those two go hand in hand in his brain—a proper carrot and stick. You think you should be thanking him or cursing him, but your words turn out a jumbled mess—nothing worth writing home about.

“Ready for the final round?” His voice finally conquers the ambient—heavy, almost as though his own ministrations have worn him out, and distorted by every prolonged inhale and sharp exhale he takes.

“Do I have a choice?” You provoke.

“Sure you do. Just—hah, not when it comes to this.”

A low fuck evades him, and you are oblivious to the way he’s been fisting his cock this entire time, smearing your slick over his length and squeezing the reddened tip in the ring shaped by his thumb and index, biting onto his tongue whenever your name comes remotely close to spilling from his lips. Only he knows the endurance he’s shown keeping himself from busting in his hand at the sight of your fucked-out form, trembling thighs calling to him in a carnal manner your lips could never muster.

You look ravishing, and ravishing you is all he aches to do.

“How many—” Satoru begins, only to be cut off with a croaked three that jumps an octave the moment his fat tip prods into your folds. “Three?” His fingers burrow into the supple flesh of your thighs as he splays your legs over his bare chest. “Could’ve sworn it was at least eight. Guess I need to make it go a bit deeper, huh?”

His lips lay soft against your ankle, trailing honeyed kisses down the expanse of skin that lose finesse once they near the crevice of your knee. An idea blinks in his brain as he grabs your thigh and presses it down against your stomach, repeating the same pattern of tenderness on the other until you are folded in half.

He stares down at you, and for a moment, that’s all he does. His eyes—the prized six eyes that are the very synonym for quintessence—well with adoration over the point where your bodies connect, the tight fit of your cunt prompting him to lose control and fuck an entire generation of sorcerers into you.

All in good time.

A quiet whisper reminds Satoru of his promise, hips drawing back before they snap right into you, the crude sound of his balls slapping against your ass reverberating across the room. You moan in unison, your fists thudding against the floor as his thrusts send you flying past the covers.

It’s too much. It’s too little. You want less. You want more. Your desires bend and twist around one another like indecisive vines, settling on a direction only after he leans forward and fixes the cushions behind your head.

“Congratulations.” The gentle action of his hand combing through your hair contradicts the cock throbbing inside your pussy. “To think my baby would make me eat my own words—well; I can get behind dating a winner. Especially when they’re as beautiful as you.”

“S-satoru!”

You look away—if resting your flushed cheek on the significantly colder pillow and fixing your gaze at whatever lies beyond the blindfold counts as looking—the sincerity in his words moving you more than it should.

“What’s wrong? Don’t tell me you are embarrassed.” Satoru chuckles, punctuating his own question with a sensual roll of his hips that drags against your clit, coaxing the tiniest of moans to slip from your pursed lips.

“Hmm, is it because I called you beautiful?” He leans onto his elbow, relying on the weight of his chest to keep you pinned down. “Nah, can’t be it. I call you beautiful on a daily basis, don’t I? Then—hmm—is it ‘cause I’m so nice to you? Because I’m the best boyfriend you could ask for?”

“Q-quit it with all that self affirm—oh my god!”

Tears prickle your eyelash line at the familiar way his cock glides between your walls. He’s in so deep, relaxed thrusts pushing against your abdomen from the inside, with your cervix serving as the last line of defense for your merge, gallantly bearing every kiss his tip prints on your core.

“C’mooon, you gotta help me out. I’m all outta guesses here.” Satoru whines in your ear, his voice a pitch too high. “Is it because you can’t see me? Because this feels so good? Or because,” his hand sneaks between your bodies to work languid circles around your clit, “you just love me that much?”

“Aw, so that’s what it was?” He interprets the clenching of your pussy as he wills. For once he isn’t off the mark. “Okay, look at me.”

Even when you weren’t embarrassed before, you are about to be as heat pools in your stomach anew, threatening to make your score three to zero. You feel yourself turning liquid, dissolving between ripples of pleasure, drowning in you and drowning in him, and he’s both the riptide pulling you in as he’s the lifeline washing you ashore, the salty tang of the sea clinging to the fingers fumbling about your chin.

“I said, look at me.” His tone serious this time.

Every sense of yours is held captive as Satoru’s lips finally smash into yours, the taste of your essence refusing to die out no matter how many times your tongues swirl around each other. Your breathy moans are traded for his needy grunts, compiling into a broken record that plays sinfully in your ears, the whiff of sex lingering potent in the thick air between you.

He doesn’t fuck into you so much as he grinds against you, allowing you to grab at his biceps when your legs start to shake, the white clouds in your peripheral dispersing behind the sky blue of his eyes, placid orbs electrified by lust.

“Hi,” Satoru greets with an amiable smile, the blindfold dangling from around his forefinger.

“H-hi,” you return, your palms creeping up his face as if to appraise it, soft thumbs pushing the dampened strands away from his forehead, a thirst within you at last quenched.

“It’s-a me.” He says stupidly, basking in the affectionate way you cradle him.

“If you crack a Mario joke I’ll kick you in the nuts.” You warn.

“Oh no! How dare you genocide my children?” He gasps, and you can’t help but chuckle, eliciting a moan from him as your walls tighten around his cock. “M-minus one Gojo junior.”

Another laugh. Another moan. Another kiss.

“Would you put a baby into me if I didn’t?” You trace against his lips, uncertain of the answer you want to hear.

There’s no reason to be discussing having kids when you haven’t even tied the knot, let alone when more qualified candidates exist to continue his clan’s lineage. Maybe Shoko—she and Satoru have always been close, and a healing technique sounds like a valuable inheritance. Utahime—you aren’t sure what her abilities are, but they too go back. Even Mei, her family have a sizable fortune, and their genes combined would—

Mischief sparks in his eyes, tugging at the corners of his mouth and spreading to your lips as he kisses you—not his close friend, not his self-declared nemesis, and certainly not his senior. Just plain old you.

“If that’s what the future Mrs. Gojo wants, then—”

“What do you—”

Before your questions can manifest, Satoru picks up a tempo that knocks the air out of your lungs and the thoughts out of your mind. Big palms wrap your knees around his torso, sculpted pecs smothering your plushy tits while he vigorously drills his cock into your sopping cunt, having the nerve to laugh at your whimpers in between strangled noises of his own.

“You feel so good f’me, baby. S-so fucking good, aren’t you? My good—nah, my perfect girl. Our kids will be perfect too. G-gonna have lots of ‘em, mm? Gonna-fuck, gimme a whole class to teach, right?” He blabs deliriously, broad shoulders flexing as your nails rake them.

You want that. Everything he’s willing to offer, a future where his last name precedes your first, and chubby babies that bear his disposition, his ideals, and his smiles follow on your trail like little disoriented ducklings; one where he’s your husband, and you’re his wife, and you’re tied to each other for life.

Satoru’s lips drift toward your neck, biting sloppy marks that have you writhing below him. And when his cock hits that one spot inside of you, the one he’s been abusing all night long like a kid with a brand new toy on Christmas Eve, “Oh my God—G-god, p-please j-just like that, shit shit f-fuck!”

“Why bring religion into this?” He mumbles, voice inadvertently sultry and cumbered with every bit of self-restraint he showed before entering this frenzy where his climax is the only thing that matters. “Just—hah, say my name. Let the heavens know who helped you ascend them.”

The next time your eyes meet, he’s grinning, pink lips bitten cherry red, and he’s pretty; so pretty; too pretty.

“C-can’t say th-things like that!” You struggle to maintain control over your bobbing head.

“Why not? Your little heart can’t handle it?”

“Sh-shut up, dumbass!”

His eyebrows unite amid his forehead, even his frown attractive.

“That’s not my name.”

“S-stupid!” You yelp, mainly addressing the myriad stupid butterflies that chose to swarm your stupid stomach at his stupid commentary.

“Mmm, I think you’re the one getting fucked stupid here, sugarplum.”

Satoru zooms on into your lips, playfully swiping his tongue in between. You can’t cum any more; it’s physically impossible. You think. But “impossible” isn’t a word in his vocabulary; every snap of his hips causes you to ride on a rollercoaster with no end-destination, only a consistent state of newer highs.

“S-satoru.” His name rolling off your tongue works like a charm, the rhythm of his thrusts slowing down as he presses your foreheads together.

“Again?” He pleads. Quietly. A pin capable of overshadowing his tone.

“‘Toru.” Two smiles turn into one. “My ‘Toru.”

“More.”

There’s not a single gap between your bodies; every piece of him fits into every piece of you like a puzzle, but somehow he seems to get closer, squeezing into your hips a little tighter and kissing your lips a little rougher.

His heart beats wildly against his chest, red leaking onto his cheeks and blue spilling from the ocean in his eyes. He looks at you with love—so much love that it’s seared into your very being and becomes your own identity as the only woman Gojo Satoru ever truly, madly, deeply loved.

“I love you, ‘Toru.”

It’s the combination of those four little words that pushes Satoru over the edge, his hips jerking violently while his cock pumps ropes upon ropes of creamy cum inside your spent pussy, filling you up until you can’t be filled any more.

He collapses on top of you, head reduced into a fluffy snowball that takes refuge in the crook of your neck, and that’s your cue to hold him close, pampering him with all the affection you’re otherwise so frugal about. He’s touch-starved to the point of shaking in your embrace, nearly purring as your arms loop behind his back and your lips touch his shoulders, peppering incomplete kisses across his hot skin.

Your hands relocate to his cheeks as he regains enough composure to face you, an idiotically bright smile stretching from one ear to the other. He nuzzles your palms, pressing kisses at the center of each and then rubbing his nose against them like a content kitten who just received the world’s greatest belly rub.

Aiko should learn from him.

“I love you more, hunny bunny.” Satoru beams, soft rays of sunshine pouring from the cracks in his dimples. “Non-negotiable.”

You bask in the afterglow together, locking toes as if you’re trying to hold hands and making out like two teenagers in heat. Correction: two idiots in love.

Your so-called honeymoon period never ended, probably because you never ran out of things to love about each other. Right now, you’re loving how Satoru’s dick remains plugged inside your pussy despite its painful twitching, for the simple reason you asked him to stay like that a little longer.

You love how Satoru tries to keep his eyes open when you kiss just so you can appreciate them a while longer, and you love the light giggle that tickles your lips as you remind him that only sociopaths kiss with their eyes open.

You love the way Satoru buries his head between your tits and squeezes them against his cheeks, apologizing to his “girls” for not giving them the proper attention and promising expensive lingerie and whipped cream treatments when you get back to Tokyo.

You also love how when Satoru pulls out and sees the mess he made out of your hole, his seed rolling between your thighs in an endless stream, his first reaction is to grin, and his second is to teleport across the room, cleaning you up before you can realize he ever left. You love that the answer to the question “how?” is a cocky “because I’m Gojo Satoru,” which seems to be the answer to most things concerning him.

The list of things you love about your boyfriend grows exponentially after Satoru puts the two of you in bed and pulls you into his arms. You love his hugs. How you drown in them, how he engulfs you better than any dress, shirt, or skirt can. You love the comforting scent his pores exude and the temperature of his naked skin on yours.

You love the narrow hugs that date back to lazy mornings in your student one-bedroom apartment, splayed in a bed that could barely fit his enormous legs, and the wide, almost too comfortable ones you share in his king-sized bed. You love the silly, whiny tone that typically begs you to miss work and try to outlast eternity with him, now declaring it’s “sleepy time.”

You love the Satoru that chased after you until you loved him back, and the Satoru who patiently waits until your eyelids close first so you don’t go a minute without him.

“‘Toru?” You mumble into his chest, seconds before the last semblance of conscience fades away. “Did you turn it off? Your technique, I mean.”

“Did I?” Snowy lashes flutter slowly above his tired eyes. “Hmm, guess we’ll have to see in nine months.” Satoru kisses your forehead. “Goodnight, my little cuddle muffin.”

On second thought, there is one thing you hate about him.

“Goodnight, Gojo.”

“G-Gojo?! Hey, what happened to ‘Toru? Baby? I know you’re not sleeping—hey, wake up, I was just joking! Come on!”

43 Missed Calls—Principal Nanimon

You have 9 new voicemails.

Press play.

“Satoru!” The phone rattles in his grasp, nearly falling into the wooden plate splayed on his lap. “I think I told you to keep your phone on at all times! You are a sorcerer; show some responsib—”

“What is he going on about?” Satoru yawns, scratching the back of his head, and then scrolls to the next voicemail in line.

“Satoru! This is your final chance to answer before I—”

“Final my ass, there’s like—what, seven more of ‘ese?” He comments with a mouth full of fruit that the room service so kindly delivered a few minutes ago. Delicious. Another reason for him to drop a five-star review.

It’s no surprise when the third voicemail starts with the exact same enraged pronunciation of his name and continues with empty threats that want him scrubbing the entire school grounds. Yaga seems to have forgotten their teacher-student relationship ended a decade ago.

Neeeeeext.

“Satoru, I saw what Nanimon is, and I am not happy.”

“Oh? So he outgrew Windows XP?” He chuckles inaudibly.

Licking the sticky nectar off his fingers, Satoru pads toward the window, standing guard between the vicious sun rays and your sleeping form. You appear immune to Yaga’s ear-shattering voice, eyelids shut, and sheets kicked off your nude body, with your hair coiled around your head like a hornet’s nest.

Muffling the speaker with one hand, Satoru leans to untangle the hair from your open mouth. He thinks he might be partial to your charms, because even when he’s holding onto your spit-laced locks, he can only smile at how cute you are drooling in your sleep.

“Satoru? Satoru!” A voice far too guttural to be yours calls out to him, until he realizes Yaga’s voice has broken out of the voicemails.

“Principal Yaga!” Satoru greets once he puts some distance between himself and the bedding. “Good morn—”

“Satoru! What do you think you are doing not answering my calls?” The man fumes.

“Eating persimmons while watching my adorable girlfriend sleep,” he answers earnestly, switching apps and snapping a quick picture of your face. “She’s so pretty—ahhhh, I feel so lucky! Want me to show you? Do you even remember what a real woman looks like?” He taunts.

“She’s still your girlfriend?”

“Huh?” The phone changes ears. “Man, your memory is really failing you. How about I pay for you and Principal Gakuganji to go on a little vacation? I know this amazing resort for senior citizens; their cognitive enhancement therapy did wonders for my great-great-great uncle. Just say my name; they’ll treat you—”

“Satoru, this is important!” Yaga cuts him off. “You’ve been off the map an entire day,” fourteen hours, he corrects, “and haven’t popped the question? What are you waiting for?”

His gaze rakes over your exposed body, trailing the necklace of mauve lovebites around your neck. Smiling, “We’ve been busy.”

“Tell me you didn’t forget the ring.”

“Nah, it’s right here.”

Satoru reaches inside his yukata’s sleeve and examines the small jewelry box, tempted to ruin the surprise by grabbing the blue diamond ring and placing it around your finger—right here, right now. It will look so much prettier on you than it does gathering dust in its confinement.

“What about you?” He stores it away and resumes his call. “Did you do what I asked you to?”

A sigh. “It’s all ready on our side. Are you sure she’ll say yes? You sound confident, but a woman’s heart isn’t the same as jujutsu, Satoru. When it comes to love, the mouth is the source of disaster, and when it comes to you, it’s better to just give her the damn ring and say nothing.”

“And Sugiyama Kiyotaka says it’s fine as long as we understand each other. I get your point. Don’t need love advice from an old man with a doll fetish. I know what I’m doing. Besides, she’s the only one for me. She will say yes.”

A low roar reverberates from the speaker like a faulty engine that’s about to combust, and when it does combust, the entire room shakes. “Satoru! You’re gonna be a married man soon. Better shape up or—”

“Blah blah blah,” Satoru mocks. “Don’t you have anyone else to nag? I think Ijichi forgot to file that—”

“‘Toru?”

The sweet sound of your voice gives him all the reason he needs to hang up the phone after a hasty, “Don’t call me if you don’t need me, and if you do, then don’t.”

“Babyyyyyyyyyy!” He drags out the syllable as much as possible, an invisible cloud of dust appearing around his body when he falls on the empty space beside you, open arms wrapping your shoulders in an excruciatingly tight embrace. Kisses—lots of kisses slobbered all over your face while you are too drowsy to repel him.

“‘T-Toru! S-stop!” You chuckle hoarsely, reciprocating the sentiment however you can. “Who was that on the phone?”

“No one important,” Satoru grins, balancing his chin against your chest. “Ready for today? I got a very fun day planned ahead of us.”

A/N: If you made it this far, then congratulations! You finished reading my first Gojo fic (that made me fall in love with him jsjsjs)

As I mentioned above, chapter 1 is a flashforward to the main storyline that will start kicking chapter 2 onward. Expect laughable misunderstandings, questionable comedic moments, cat rescuings, college tutorings, and the angst behind Gojo's refusal to get married.

Hope you'll stick with! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments, are always appreciated 💙

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo smut #jujustu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #i wanna tie the knot #satoru <3 #jjk gojo #jjk fanfic

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ruewrote · 1 year

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𝑠𝑎𝑓𝑒 𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑐𝑒.

PAIRING: wally clark x fem!reader WARNINGS: mentions of death & panic attacks GENRE: angst SONG INSPIRATION: waves by dean lewis WORD COUNT: 1.1k

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you never had many great experiences with making friends in the prior life never mind the former. for most of it you kept to yourself.

wally was one of the first people that you met after it happened. he welcomed you with open arms on one of the hardest days of your entire existence and you couldn't have been more appreciative of him.

you had accidentally died in 2019.

your death was quite tragic.

getting pushed through the sea of people that walked through the stadium, this was already way too much human contact then you signed up for, but how could you say no to the tall blonde that had invited you to the game.

eyes searching for any spare seats at the bottom of the bleachers, your hands digging deeper into the pockets of the oversized hoodie that flowed around your frame. already feeling completely out of place as an introvert, but even more so when you were one of the few not wearing the school colours.

keeping your head down as you proceeded up the metal steps, people accidentally shoulder barging you as you did.

finally getting to the top stair as a large gust of wind blew past you. grabbing a hold of the railing, your breath stuck in the back of your throat as you shuffled carefully over to the seats.

the sound of the loud pre-game shouts from the cheerleaders, to the jocks warming up, it all felt a bit too much. your mouth dry, throat pinching finding it hard to breath as you clawed at your chest, suddenly not able to regulate your breathing.

more people walking up the steps made the temporary flooring wobble. you walked further and further back to make room until it was too late and you were falling, very fast, almost too fast.

screaming out for any type of help, but it was too late. everything went black. no one heard you screams, drowned out by the crowd cheered as the game started. sadly your body was only discovered after the game had finished.

at first you spent a lot of your days in the same place that you died in, trying to shout out to investigators, to anyone. no one could hear you, this couldn't be happening.

giving up on yelling, you huffed as you plopped yourself down on the grass, rethinking everything that happened that night.

you would've still been alive if you hadn't agreed to go.

no you hadn't had any major life changing events in the near future but it was still way too early, you were only seventeen.

a couple of sleepless nights had gone by, you felt numb. empty.

angry at how everything was so perfectly peaceful. your parents were distraught, you watched how they were stood so apart, your dad looking sad and your mother looking angry.

you didn't want them to be upset. as much as you had your ups and downs with them and there still being so many things left unsaid, they were still your parents and seeing their relationship fall apart because of your death pained you. all you could do was sit back and watch.

you felt stupid for saying that you felt alone when you were alive because now you were well and truly alone here... wherever you were.

"beautiful day, isn't it?" a male voice from beside you spoke but you stayed silent, continuing to the pick at the edge of your nails assuming it was just one of the police officers talking to their men.

"nope? okay understandable."

glancing over to the person who sat beside you. eyebrows scrunched together, eyes narrowed. is he talking to me?

the brunette slid his sunglasses down his nose, squinting as the sun shone down bright onto the two of you.

"it's rude to stare ya know?" his eyes focused on yours, waiting for an answer but you were completely stunned.

"you can see me? no fucking way!" you quickly pushed yourself up from where you were sat, smiling giddily.

"wait..."

there was only one way to make sure that this was real, cautiously reaching your hand out and poked him with your index finger. you were met with his skin.

"ouch! that hurts you know." he exclaimed, pretending to be pain, pouting as he rubbed the same spot you touched.

"it is so good to finally speak to someone, i thought i was alone in this terrible place."

"i'm y/n! what's your name?" you held out your hand for him, he took it and instead of shaking it, he flipped yours over and placed a kiss upon it.

from then on you two were inseparable. whether it would be just eating together or watching living teenagers do stupid shit, laughing your asses off doing so.

sometimes you'd just lay smack bang in the centre of the football stadium, stargazing. it became a daily occurrence since ghosts didn't actually need sleep.

throughout the years you had a lot of time to spend together. that also meant that it gave you a lot of time to think, which wasn't necessarily a good thing.

the times you spent alone were torture, the silence getting too loud.

now you were sat in the school library, laying on top of one of the shelves, feet swaying back and forth before meeting with the wood. the clock ticked away and so did the sound of scribbling of studying students.

you had spent so much time in this place that it had become a some type of home to you, times like this when you'd reminisce on the memories wasn't always a great idea.

you worried a lot.

knowing that one day you're gonna pass over and that he's gonna pass over scared you. you never really thought about it. losing him all together? it felt impossible.

your chest felt tight, sitting up panicking. you hadn't been by yourself through a panic attack since your accident.

jumping off of the bookshelf, gasping for air. trying to remember the counting technique that wally had taught you, falling to your knees now hyperventilating when you heard echoed shouts from beside you.

it felt like you were underwater, your chest screaming for some sort of relief.

it wasn't until you felt two familiar large hands cup your cheeks, their thumbs wiping away the tears that had once streamed down your cheeks. tilting your face to be met with wally's, his beautiful brown eyes full of concern.

that's when you felt your chest untighten, breathing became much easier as you followed his deep, evened out breaths.

he pulled you into his lap, one hand wrapped securely around your waist as one caressed your hair. your ear pressed against his chest, hearing the rapid beat of his heart.

staying like that helped, him holding you helped.

squeezing your eyes tightly shut, trying to savour this moment. his shirt bunched firmly in your fist.

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crystalskiesandcherrywine · 2 months

Text

And all the pieces fall, right into place // Part Three

Just had to write more imideately - these two just had to get closer. But it seems like Feyd in this story has a somewhat soft side to him. Lets see how long it will stay this way

All feedback is welcome <3

English is not my first language

Part One // Part Two

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Na Baron Feyd Rautha x Atreides!Reader

FxM

1.626 words

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Na Baron Feyd Rautha awoke to an unusual, high-pitched sound in his room. It was like the clinking of glass, but lacked its acrid edge. All his senses went on high alert as he opened his eyes wide and, as inconspicuously as possible, reached for the blade at his right. His fingers curled around the hilt, ready to neutralise the source of the noise. It was only a moment later that he realised the sound was coming from a bird on the windowsill. The bird, completely unfazed by the weapon, continued to trill, looking back at the Baron undaunted and curious. Its feathers glistened in the first rays of the sun. When Feyd Rautha took a step towards him, the bird thought better of it and vanished with a flap of its wings, leaving only a long blue feather as proof that it had ever been there. The Baron looked out of the window, where a tranquil sea of grass stretches beyond the walls of Arteries castle. Everything on Kaladan seemed deeper: Colours were more vivid and blended. His guest rooms were lined with soft fabrics, the carpet beneath his feet plush. The abstract notion of the differences between Kaladan and Giedi Prime was evident in every aspect. With a soft knock, the door to his room was flung open. The servant was confronted with an unusual sight. The Baron was completely naked, his muscles covered by marble-coloured skin, his broad shoulders kissed by the sun, his blade in his hand.

"Please forgive the intrusion, Venerable Na Baron," the servant bowed deeply. "Lady Atreides requests your presence. She expects you at the west gate in 15 minutes."

"Lady Jessica?"

"No, my apologies, Na Baron, I meant the Princess, of course. Do you have appropriate attire for a climb?“

The morning wind settled, carrying away the remnants of the clouds. Standing before the gate in your usual gear, you felt safer than the previous night. The sensation of his unexpectedly soft lips on yours, his desire for you, left you not indifferent. Yet many questions pressed on you, for much seemed to deviate from the original plan. For now, you shook off the worries. If your soon-to-be husband was on your home planet, then he should see something of it. His figure emerged from an exit and moved towards you. His body was clad in a uniform you recognized as for combat training, complete with a leather vest and knee pads, a belt from which you spotted two blades. His heavy The morning breeze died down, carrying away the remnants of the clouds. Standing in front of the gate in your usual clothes, you felt safer than the night before. The feeling of his unexpectedly soft lips on yours, his desire for you, did not leave you unaffected. Still, many questions plagued you, for much seemed to have changed from the original plan. For the moment, you shook off your worries. If your future husband was on your home planet, he should see something of it. His figure emerged from an exit and moved towards you. His body was clad in a uniform you recognised as combat training, complete with leather vest and knee pads, a belt from which you could see two blades. His heavy boots had been replaced by lighter shoes. Approvingly, you nod.

"Good morning, Na Baron, I'm glad you could join me," you said, handing him a dark brown rucksack.

"I could hardly resist an invitation," he said with unmistakable sarcasm.

You contemplated replying, but decided against it.

"Then we should get going, we have a long way to go," and with these words you set off. The walk began in silence, you noticed Feyd Rautha struggling between irritation and astonishment. A man like him wasn't used to being ordered around, and on Giedi Prime you couldn't afford such liberties. But you had the home field advantage, and you intended to use it. His voice, a little hoarse, broke the silence. "Is it always so... intense here?"

"Intense? What do you mean, my lord?" The word rolled off your tongue, and you noticed he was eager to hear it again.

"The colours, the sounds..."

"No, in winter it's much quieter, the snow lies like a blanket over everything and muffles all sounds. It's all white as far as the eye can see. Do you have snow on Giedi Prime?"

"No, our planet is different. It's much less forgiving," he says, his eyes wandering between you and the surroundings. By now you had reached your destination: a rock face full of roots and small plants, with veins of chalk.

"I think you'll find that Kaladan has its rough edges, too," you said, unable to resist teasing him. "I hope you're as well trained as you look."

You hear only a snort of irritation behind you as you begin the climb. Your fingers find the usual notches in the stone and you pull yourself up quickly. Feyd Rautha's gaze burns into the back of your neck, and when you turn around, you meet his ice-blue eyes. He seems to take the challenge very seriously, and after his gaze sweeps over your body once more, he makes a surprising leap to the side, overtaking you in a matter of moves. His form seems to merge like water with each challenge of the mountain, each movement calculated and seemingly effortless. By the time you reach the top, he's already standing on the cliff, looking down at you with a hint of mockery in his eyes.

"So you like to keep your guests waiting, Princess. It's not very polite of you."

With a frustrated sigh, you pull yourself over the edge and he makes no move to offer his hand. You walk a few metres ahead and gesture for him to sit next to you. From your rucksack you pull out a blanket and several tins of food. He reaches into his backpack and finds food and drink as well. Again you sit in silence, trying to take in the view. Soon the view would give way to a monochrome, desolate landscape under a black sun. Under the blue sky, waves of pale green grass were interspersed with purple and gold flowers. Small streams meandered here and there, reflecting the image of the sky. Their babbling mixed with the rustling of the treetops as they swayed in the wind. He followed your gaze, and you could almost hear the individual mental gears in his brain. Silently, you pour wine for both of you and toast him.

"To new adventures, Na Baron." He returned the gesture and drained the glass in one gulp.

"Why did you bring me here?"

"This is my home. Think of it as a kind of revelation from me: When you see this, you see a part of my soul. Soon I will follow them to Giedi Prime and the sight of them there will tell me something about them".

He seems to savour the answer on his tongue.

"I see before me something barely tamed."

You try to answer, but get lost in his eyes. A ray of sunlight lands on his cheek and before you can think, you reach out. His skin is soft, warmed by the sun, and as your fingers slide over it, he catches your wrist and brings it to his lips. Your tongue moves over the skin, picking up a light film of salt that has formed from the previous exertion. Your arm relaxes and it's the moment of weakness he's been waiting for. With a movement, it is on top of you, pressing down on your back and the grass-covered ground beneath you, your hair loosening from its braid and spreading across the blanket. The same wild expression as last night flits across his face.

"A princess alone with a monster in a remote place, how foolish, how reckless," he breathes as he spreads kisses down your neck. You turn your head slightly to the side, giving him more surface to work with, your arms held above your head in his hand.

The kisses turn to a bite, so sharp it makes you cry out. He licks over the small wound and the red smears around his lips. His other hand slides over your chest, dressed in tight hiking clothes that offer much more than the flowing evening gown of last night.

You squirm and try to free your hands, but to no avail. However, he seems to enjoy your efforts as he undoes the fastening of your jacket. Your nipples immediately become hard and as he sucks on one breast, your body bends towards him. He finally lets go of your hands, but only to hold your neck as he turns his attention to the second breast. A wave of desire sweeps over you, your nails running down his neck and finding their way under your shirt. You claw at him and he lets out a hiss. He doesn't let go of your breasts, alternately biting and sucking them until you're wriggling your hips underneath him, unable to resist a climax. As if possessed, you call out a name and he looks up at you, greed and lust clearly written on his face.

"You wish to wait, Princess, your wish is my command. One word from you and this peak will be only one of many".

Your tongue disobeys, your thoughts refuse to form. You feel a few drops of moisture slide down your inner thigh under your clothes. The desire for him and the shame of your weakness mix.

When you don't answer, he gets off you and lies down on his back next to you, looking up at the sky.

#dune part ii #feyd rautha #feyd rautha imagine #feyd smut #feyd x reader #feyd x you #dune movie #arranged marriage #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune fanfiction #feyd rautha x reader #soft feyd

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maopll · 7 months

Note

omg hi I love ur work this is so exciting

honestly I’d be happy with anything you made so please just hcs for all your faves!! thank you!

shall I compare thee to a summer's day ?

#genshin impact !

⌗:, a/n: making my come back again after 2 months. wrote this in class pls take it. don't even know if this is actually a headcanon or not mate.

⌗:, warning: childe's real name, mention of endearments in many.

⌗:, pairings: childe, kaeya,zhongli, diluc, ayato, neuvillette, wriothesley, beidou w/ gn!reader (separately)

CHILDE

He works day and night just to be by your side when you go to sleep. He can't let you sleep alone on that cold bed. He comes everyday and falls asleep while hugging your form. All the regrets and bloodlust now gone as he focuses on your sleeping peaceful form. He grows sentimental by the night and always worries about you 'how will you able to stay safe when I'm not here ?'. He is snapped back to reality when you softly speak in a low voice "ajax? you're here" and smile while turning towards him. Even in the darkest of nights your smiles brings him the brightest of dawns. He hugs you tightly to his chest and kisses your forehead. This soft and sweet side of childe is what only you can see.

KAEYA

Being a cavalry captain means that he is quite efficient in the ways of welding swords and riding horses. Although they don't quite apply at present but he has taken you out on horse ridings for more than once. Riding through the vast forests and along with the wind. As the evening fell, you two rested under a tree in Starsnatch Cliff while watching the sun set in each others arms. He held you close to him as he softly kissed you. Oh, how beautiful you looked as the suns rays fell on you. He could cherish this moment forever...however fleeting moments of happiness are best savoured when they are short-lived as they would continue to stay engraved in his minds for years to come...for centuries to last.

ZHONGLI

Hands intertwined with his big ones as you two strided along the coast of the sea. It was twilight, almost dusk. The cool breeze of the sea, accompanied by the lulling of the waves, all seemed so surreal. You were smiling brightly, and Zhongli felt that you looked ethereal. For all the years he's lived, he's never felt so loved and so lucky to have someone by his side. The lovesick moment between you and your lover was sealed by a kiss from Zhongli. Oh, how can you look so beautiful?

DILUC

Maids hear the sound of the gramophone from your and Diluc's shared room, but they just brushed it off thinking that it is you listening to the old mondstadt classics and waltz. Little do they know that the songs are on because two lovers are dancing to it. A cherished pastime of his as he softly holds you close to him. Steps careful and synchronized. The sound of footsteps, the symphony from the gramophone, and the glowing orange embers of the sun illunitaing the room through lace curtains. A dreamlike landscape. He looked at you with lovesick eyes, the same eyes he looked at you with when he first proposed to you. A gentle smile tugged at his lips as he closed his eyes, taking in the moment with you.

AYATO

Atop the cliff of Amakane Island, you and ayato were writing your wishes on the lantern, which would then float up to the skies to receive the blessings of the archon...as per the story goes. The lanterns glow illuminated your faces as Ayato carefully admired your face. 'you look so radiant tonight love' he thought to himself and then chuckling because of how helplessly he is in love with you. "Love I'm done writing should we let it go now?" you said excitedly and he humed in approval. The lantern was then let go off and it found its place among the blanket of stars in the night sky. Your lover held you close to him as he kissed you on the forehead, taking in the ethereal quietness and serenity of the moment

NEUVILLETTE

On the soft green grass, the melusines played as you carefully groomed Neuvillette's long hair. You braided it and added a few freshly picked rainbow roses and lumidouce bells to his hair. "Are the flowers necessary dear?" "nope! you look absolutely gorgeous love, don't take them off". He was about to retort until the melusines also agreed that he looked pretty with the flowers. He hesitantly agreed but if it means that it will put a smile on your face he will gladly do so. Putting the flower crown on top of your head that one of the melusines had made before, he held you close to him. He never felt so peaceful in all of his lifetime. It was a blessing to spend the day with his beloved and also with the melusines he adores so much. A smile broke out in his face as you all continued with your day. It seems that the sun will shine for quite a while today.

WRIOTHESLEY

Brewing tea with you always had such a wholesome domestic vibe to it. You boiled the water as he selected his and yours' favourite tea. Being his lover made you knowledgeable about all the types and kinds of tea and the techniques required to brew them. "Honey, you can put in the tea now. I'll go grab the cups." he added the required amount and waited for it to be complete. He listened intently to the song you were humming...what was the name again? oh! it was one of fontaine's classics. After it was done, you two enjoyed the tea in silence. It was comforting since most of the days inside the Fortress of Meropide is spent is hustle and bustle and matters related to the maintenance and whatnot. Moments like these were sparse, but he thoroughly enjoyed the little time he spent with you.

BEIDOU

Once the crux fleets arrives at the harbour, the first place Beidou takes you to is Wangmin restaurant or to any other local food stalls there are in the liyue harbour. From the spiciest of dry braised fish or stew to sweet and savoury rice puddings or even the fanciest of rice wines. All of them in one night. "Haha! I hope you are enjoying today, love days like these might come after a long time! maybe even months!" and she proceeded to chug down her entire bottle of wine. "thanks for this day beidou, I love you" you said as you drank your own wine. It was a full moon night and the sky was brighter than on any other day. What an eventful day it was with the captain of the Crux fleet!

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moonlightsolo · 1 year

Text

the eastern sea.

summary: fleeing the omatikaya clan means you’re leaving everything you’ve ever known behind. the native reef people of awa’atlu are not very open-minded with your kind- but with neteyam by your side everything will be perfectly fine… right?

pairing: neteyam sully x fem!na’vi/human reader

warnings: spoilers for atwow, metkayina being kinda rac!st (im sorry they’re mean), smooching, angst, nete fighting ao’nung n his goblins for you 😩

note: if none of y’all leave feedback n just simply leave a like i will block u (not really) but give me some attention to feed my ego!!!!!!!

part one | part two | part four | part five

your heart aches.

it mourns for the life you’re leaving behind; the only one you’ve ever known. the forest, the people of omatikaya, and of course… your home.

you watch the ceremony in tears with your fingers intertwined tightly with neteyam’s. his grip grows stronger as the time goes by from attempting to control his emotions.

jake sully has surrendered his leadership as olo’eyktan. the position is to be taken over by another na’vi named tarsem.

you can’t help but glance up at the sully boy, his round eyes watery but with no threat to spill out onto his cheeks. he’s trying to stay strong for his family, and for you.

your heart hurts for him, knowing that should have been him. neteyam was next in line after toruk makto and that opportunity was stripped away right in front of him.

jake leads his family down the steps of the tree of souls, ears pointed downward in defeat as the people, your family, cry out from everybody’s departure. some reach out to touch the shoulders of your group as you walk by, a sign of farewell.

you can’t help but stifle sobs into your free hand, unable to hold back your tears as you walk through the gathering of na’vi.

neteyam leads you through the crowd, his thumb rubbing circles into the top of your hand as he nods softly as to say goodbye to a few people.

the boy helps you climb onto the back of his ikran, now almost eye level with you. he pauses for a moment to look into your eyes, a smile barely grazing his lips before situating himself in front of you.

you take one last look at the clan, the ones who accepted you for who you are. not knowing if this will be the last time you will see them, and to feel the forest around you.

jake chirps out a rallying yelp, echoed by neytiri, kiri, lo’ak, and neteyam; all signaling they’re ready to depart.

jake is the first to take off, his ikran gaining speed as it rises in the air. next is neytiri and tuk, followed by kiri on her own ikran, lo’ak on his, and finally, you and neteyam.

your arms tighten around his slender waist, digging your cheek into the warmth of his back. you stare down at the clan that grows smaller as you ascend higher into the sky.

eventually you break free from the forests embrace, flying off the coast over the rough ocean. you take the time to admire the entirety of it; the massive trees that usually tower into the sky above you, look so small from up here.. the magnificent flora and animals that live amongst the grass, like the mountain banshees that scatter the wind, making you wish that you had enough time to rastle your own.

your grip tightens around neteyam, a soft sniffle sounding from your nose. one of his hands release from the reins of his ikran to hold your forearm, his thumb gently rubbing your skin in attempt to comfort you. it takes everything to break your gaze from the forest, taking the easy way out by nuzzling into his back.

the warmth emitting his body and the soft sea breeze slowly lulls you to sleep, your grip never falters from around his waist but a nap ensues.

a crack of lightning startles you awake, sending you into a panic.

how much time has gone by?

you’re drenched from the rain, but somehow covered in neteyams shawl. a gust of wind catches under the ikrans wing, sending you both in a zig zag pattern in the air. your arms squeeze his waist tightly, almost worrying that you’ll crush him under your vice-like grip.

the water droplets catch on your lashes, making your eyes squint as the harsh rain hits your bodies at an angle. the dark sky flashes with lightning, loud booming thunder vibrates everything around you.

as neteyam rounds a large rock, a wave crashes against the stone sending the water upwards into the sky. the sea mist cascades over your body, making you gasp in shock as the salty water splashes over your bodies.

the six of you power through the storm, the sunrise creeping through the darkened clouds slowly replaces the rain. your head feels too heavy on your shoulders, as if it’ll topple off into the depths of the sea below you.

you sleepily blink as you come to, the warmth of the sun lays upon your back like a warm hug. “we’re almost there.” neteyam glances behind his shoulder to look down at you. the boy looks equally, or even more, as sleepy as you.

you lean over the ikran, gasping at the crystal clear cerulean water. you revel at the sight of the colorful reefs and sea animals beneath the surface, hoping you’ll get the opportunity to swim alongside them.

your eyes catch an island in the distance, a tall grassy mountain sitting by itself in the water surrounded by rocky formations.

there it is… awa’atlu.

“it’s so beautiful.” you breathe out with a wide grin, eyes taking in the new environment.

you unravel from your embrace around him, leaning backwards with your arms out in the wind like a bird. the feeling of the warm wind flow across your body is freeing, as if you’re soaring through the sky like an ikran.

neteyam can’t help but smile at you and your excitement, but inside, his heart is uneasy. he doesn’t know if the metkayina will welcome his family into their clan, even after this strenuous journey they’ve endured.

on the outskirts of the island, the ikrans sail over a seabank filled with natural pools. the sea people amongst the grounds holler and yip at the presence of flying banshees breaching their perimeter.

as you grow closer, you realize that there are thick mangrove trees that cover the entire coast, shading it from the strength of the sun. a loud horn sounds from the somewhere in the village, making your ears perk up.

all five ikrans circle the village looking for a spot to land. neytiri and jake spot a sand bank, pointing for the rest to follow.

neytiri is the first to land alongside jake, instantly helping tuk off the animal.

once all the family’s ikrans land on the sand, neteyam sighs in defeat as he steps off, “here we go.” he mumbles with a bite to his voice. he reaches a hand out to help you off, but you’ve already slid down the side and hopped into the sand.

you stare down at your toes wiggling in the white powder that is so unfamiliar to you. it’s like dirtbutit’s so warm and soft.

with every yip coming from the growing crowd of reef people, your ears twitch. “on me.” jake gestures to the four of you to follow. neteyam’s hand barely grazes over your lower back to guide you between lo’ak, kiri, and himself- all he wants to do is keep you safe.

jake walks forward with his hands out in surrender as the foreign clan starts to surround your much smaller group. the amount of eyes you can feel on your skin makes you pull neteyams shawl tighter around your upper body.

neteyam and lo’ak sign ‘i see you’ to two younger metkayina boys, who surprisingly don’t return the gesture. “easy. just be cool.” jake says calmly to his boys.

“look! what is that?” the shorter one laughs as he points at the neteyam and lo’aks tails, “is that supposed to be a tail?” the comment makes the taller one laugh as they circle your group like predators on prey.

the taller one locks eyes with you, making your gaze shift from neteyam and then back to him. “and you’ve brought a sky demon.”

although it was meant to be a statement, his words sound condescending. you refuse to look back up at the boy, shuffling closer to neteyams back.

lo’ak is too enamored with a girl to pay attention to what was going on. his round eyes watch her emerge from the water, which makes neteyam slyly smirk at his brother from his evident staring.

“it is too small. how do they swim with it? that one doesn’t even have a tail!” they keep throwing insults at you and the boys, pointing and cackling.

“enough! roxto, ao’nung.” the girl scolds the metkayina boys by slapping their hands.

so that what their names are.

the girl raises her eyes, making eye contact with lo’ak. “hey.” the younger sully boy awkwardly nods at her, making her giggle and look down.

you can’t help but stifle your laughter, making neteyam look down at you with the same look. your attention is quickly taken away from the budding romance by three large flying fish leaping over your heads.

a few droplets of water fall onto your face and before you could wipe them away, neteyam beats you to it by swiping his thumb across your salty skin.

a large metkayina man decorated in bright colored garb emerges from the sea- the olo’eyktan, the chief. your heart thumps rapidly against your rib cage as he grows closer to jake.

“tonowari, i see you.” jake signs to him, which the larger man quickly signs back. he makes the gesture to each family member, including you. his eyes linger on you for a moment, before continuing on. phew.

you know you don’t look like the others. your skin isn’t that beautiful shade of blue, but more resembling your mothers with darker opaque stripes on your skin.

a woman pushes her way through the crowd, her piercing gaze burning a hole through your clan. she does not look happy at the sight of the forest people on her turf.

“i see you, ronal.” jake bends down, as well as neytiri. the woman doesn’t reciprocate the greeting.

“why do you come to us, jake sully?” tonowari questions.

“we seek uturu.” jake gestures to his family.

“uturu?” the tsahìk looks baffled by jake’s sentence, and you can’t help but watch her reactions.

“a sanctuary for my family.” jake adds desperately.

“we are reef people. you are forest people. your skills will mean nothing here.” tonowari speaks, watching his mate weave throughout your clan with a demeaning stare.

“so we will learn your ways, right?” jake looks over at neytiri for help.

your breathing stops when ronal weaves through your group, her hand snatches neytiri’s tail to observe it before grabbing tuk’s arm to lift it.

“their arms are thin.” she moves onto kiri, gripping her tail painfully, “their tails are weak… you will be slow in the water.”

kiri protests as she pulls her tail out of ronal’s hands, furrowing her brows at the touchy lady.

the tsahìk grips kiri’s hand to show it off to her people, “these children are not even true na’vi. they have demon blood!”

her eyes dance over the forest people, before making contact with your own. her face drops as she looks you over, making your breathing halt in your chest as she rushes over to you.

“and they‘ve brought a demon with them!” she exclaims to her people, her hand strongly grips your wrist, jerking it into the air for everybody around you to gawk at.

gasps and hisses travel throughout the crowd at the sight of you, making your head hang in shame and tears spring to your eyes. you knew this would happen. they wouldn’t accept you for who you are. you’re considered an outsider, an enemy.

neteyam hisses as he yanks your wrist out of her grip, his arm protectively wraps around your shoulders to push you behind him. before she could argue with the boy, jake takes a step forward between the three of you.

“look! look!” jake lifts his hand to her face, showing off his five fingers as he flips his hand, “i was born of the sky people and now i am na’vi. her mother was born of the sky people and her father was a na’vi! alright, she can adapt. you can adapt. we all can adapt, okay?”

neytiri places her hand on your shoulder to comfort you before walking up to ronal, “my husband was toruk makto. he led the clans to victory against the sky people.”

ronal almost scoffs at her words, “this is what you call victory? hiding amongst strangers? it seems eywa has turned her back on you, chosen one.” she directs the nickname to jake in a derogatory tone.

neytiri’s shoulders push back as she hisses at her, causing ronal to hiss back just as angrily.

as the commotion ensues, you look up at neteyam with a weary look in your eyes. he can’t help but reciprocate as he glances at you, before going back to watching his parents with the leaders of the sea clan.

“toruk makto is a great war leader,” tonowari places his hand on jakes shoulder, “all na’vi people know his story.” he speaks to his people, “but we, metkayina, are not at war.”

tonowari turns to jake again, “we cannot let you bring your war here.”

his words make your heart drop, is he going to turn all of you away after this entire time?

“i’m done with war, okay?” sully holds tuk on his hip as he tries to explain himself, “i’m just- i’m just trying to keep my family safe.”

you gulp as tonowari and ronal share a few silent glances before she nods reluctantly, “toruk makto and his family will stay with us,” your body tenses up as he continues, “treat them as our brothers and sisters. they do not know the sea, so they will be like babies taking their first breath.” you wince at the comment.

“teach them our ways so they do not suffer the shame of being useless.” he stares down jake as the last word leaves his mouth.

jake let’s out a breath, a soft sound of disbelief. “what do we say?” he softly touches tuk’s shoulder.

“thank you.” she smiles up at the chief.

“my son ao’nung and my daughter tsireya will show your children and the girl what to do.” he gestures to them by his side.

“father, wha-” the boy goes to complain, but he’s cut off by the older man, “it is decided.”

the girl from the water smiles beautifully as she steps forward, almost excited to be in charge. “come. i will show you our village.”

tsireya leads everybody to their new home over a bouncy net material that hovers over the water. tuk starts to hop with one of her hand holding yours, even if your arms are full of supplies you bounce along with her.

tsireya stops in front of an empty marui with a big smile, “this is for you. your new home.”

jake says something you can’t make out, but you can tell by how neytiri drops the rug on the ground that she’s upset.

the rest of the day is taken up by unloading every piece of luggage into your new home, and setting up for the next day.

there’s one extra pod, where jake and neytiri will stay, that connects to the main room while the rest of you will find a spot in the large living area.

once your space is set up in the corner of the marui, you can’t help but walk outside to watch the sun sink into the horizon. you sit down on the bouncy weaved fabric, swinging your legs over the clear water.

the sun casts a golden hue over your skin, the warmth embraces you and pulls you in. you take a moment to breathe, to let your brain rest from all the commotion going on behind you.

the sully’s are having a family meeting, one you’d rather not be apart of. you can slightly overhear jakes voice, picking out some sentences.

“learn fast, pull your weight, don’t cause trouble, got it?”

you almost scoff at his orders, like they’ll listen to him- especially lo’ak.

“sully’s stick together.”

the saying makes your lungs pause mid-breath, and for some reason it makes your heart ache. you know the sully’s accept you, and they will always be there for you, but you’re different.

you’ll always be different, and today showed you that will never change.

a hand on your shoulder startles you, making you jump in your spot and looking behind you with frantic eyes.

your gaze softens when you see neteyam’s face, looking down at you with concern in his eyes. “are you alright?” he takes the quick moment between your response time to sit down next to you, his thigh pressed against the side of yours.

“i am…” you take a deep breath before continuing, “i’m just taking it all in. trying to think of all the good reasons why we’re here.”

his arm wraps around your shoulders, his forearm hanging over the front of you. instinctively, you lean into his chest, letting out a soft sigh.

just his touch alone relaxes you, bringing you to a tranquil state, “i’m sorry that they said those things about you. you know you’re not a demon, right?”

his words make you laugh slightly, “yes, i know i’m not a demon.” one of your arms snake around his back to hold onto him while the other rests on his thigh.

before either of you could say anything, someone walks up behind you both.

“you kids okay?” jake plops himself down beside neteyam, making you pull yourself slightly away of his embrace out of embarrassment.

“yes, sir.” you mumble, nodding your head as you sheepishly glance down at your feet hanging over the darkening water.

“it’s going to be hard for you to adjust to this lifestyle, kid. for all of us, but you especially.” jake talks directly to you, making your eyebrows furrow.

“just let me know if anyone… and i mean anyone gives you any trouble, okay?” jake gives you a curt nod, “thank you.” you mumble out gratefully, sending a smile his way.

“‘course. everyone is heading to bed now, so i’ll leave you kids to it… just uh.. be safe, yeah? don’t do anything i wouldn’t do.” jake looks at neteyam specifically, before slapping his hand down on his sons shoulder and standing up.

“dad.” neteyam hisses out in embarrassment, earning a chuckle from him as he walks inside the marui back to his family.

you laugh softly and lean back into neteyams side, arm returning to the spot around his waist. the two of you sit there in silence as the sky grows darker, listening to the soft waves breaking on the shore.

you let out a little yawn from your fatigue finally catching up to you. the grip around his waist loosens as your body succumbs to your exhaustion, making neteyam smile as your sleepy head bobs.

the sully boy gently lays both of yoh back on the netted structure you’re sitting on, positioning your head on his chest with his arm wrapped around your frame. his eyes attempt to fight the heaviness weighing down his eyelids, but it quickly pulls him under with you.

…..

“hey, wake up.” someone’s voice calls in your dream, “are you two alive? wake up!”

you suck in a sharp breath when the cushion underneath you is suddenly pulled out from under your head. the bright sun blinds you, almost making you hiss from the sensitivity. your hands come up to shield your eyes, squinting as you look around at the now brightened environment.

a large figure steps in front of the sun, casting a shadow on your body and forces the light to illuminate the back of their head. it’s neteyams dad.

where are you right now? why aren’t you in the marui? did you fall asleep outside?

“are you going to sleep all day or actually get up and do something with yourselves?” jake lectures with his hands on his hips.

you look over to your side, bumping your forehead on the sharp shoulder owned by neteyam. “ouch.” your voice cracks from your dry throat.

“your siblings are getting ready to go out in the water with tonowari’s children. i expect the two of you to go with them.”

oh wow, he’s being stern like a dad.. with you. your brain can barely comprehend any words right now from still being half-asleep.

“hello?” jake calls out into the silence.

“uhuuh yes sir. we’re getting up now.” neteyam spits something out, making you scramble to your feet along with him.

instead of getting up smoothly, you and neteyam’s limbs get tangled together causing you to topple back down to the ground. the bouncy material causes you both to fly into the air and back down on top of each other.

elbows dig into each others sides, knees clack together, and heads bang with a loud crack. you’re sitting in a jumbled mess, groaning and laughing in pain.

jake exhales loudly, one of his hands rub his temples in frustration. “just make sure you’re ready in five.” he starts to walk away, “i can’t deal with those two…” he mumbles to himself.

neteyam is the first to stand after your fit of giggles, picking you up along with him. he stumbles his way back into the pod with you before plopping your feet on the ground.

you stand tall, stretching your arms high above your head with a much-needed yawn. neteyam takes the opportunity to fit his head in the opening of your arms so he could give you a hug.

he nuzzles into your neck like a cat, rubbing his nose under your jawbone. “i don’t want to get ready.” his breath fans over your neck, making you shiver.

“me either. i don’t want to hang out with those kids.” you grumble which makes him chuckle and look down at you, “you don’t like someone?” he asks as if he’s surprised you’re being mean.

the gleam in his eyes makes your stomach flutter- as if he wants to devour you and worship you all at the same time. he leans forward to kiss you, his lips perfectly molding with yours.

neteyam takes his time kissing you, relishing in the fact that you’re here in this foreign village with him. he pulls back with a sigh, making your face crinkle with worry, “what’s wrong, nete?”

“it’s past five minutes.” he whispers teasingly, making your eyes roll.

“fine, i guess we should get ready.” you reluctantly pull out of his embrace to search for your things to get changed, forcing neteyam outside for your privacy.

you can hear muffled conversation from outside the pod, making you hurry up and scurry outside hoping it’s not his dad.

“come on, you skxwangs. we’re all waiting.” lo’ak gestures with his head for you two to follow him.

on the way there, you find kiri and tuk waiting. tuk squeals your name and practically jumps on you to hug you tightly. “oh hi, tuk!” you gently squeeze her.

“come on! they’re leaving without us!” she lets go to follow her brothers down to a deeper part of the water, almost a dock of some sort.

tsireya, ao’nung, and roxto are waiting at the end, their conversation stopping once they notice the five of you walking up.

“you guys ready?” she calls out with a dimpled smile.

“let’s go.” ao’nung and roxto dive into the water first. tsireya sighs, motioning with her hand for everyone to follow as she jumps in right behind them.

your heart skips a beat from the excitement of finally being able to swim, “come on!” you slap the back of your hand against neteyam’s chest before sprinting down to the end of the dock.

you leap into the air and let out a loud whooping yelp, before crashing into the ocean. once the bubbles around you clear up, the environment around you comes to life.

the terrain is so different from the forest, being underwater is the first, but there is so much life swimming every where around you.

you dive a little deeper, admiring the large colorful rocks and coral that decorate the sea floor and roots of the mangroves. that’s where you see tsireya and the two metkayina boys, ao’nung and roxto. above you, lo’ak and neteyam are slowly following with tuk floating right below the surface.

you continue to swim, your smaller limbs somehow keeping up with the natives. especially with your barely healed ankle. you spin around to swim on your back to glance up at the boys, smiling wide. your fingers wave at them, making lo’ak elbow neteyam in the side to look down at you.

after receiving a smile from your nete, your attention is taken away by a plant surrounded by fish that sparkle under the sunlight. you grin as they circle around your head before swimming way, blending in with the rest of ocean.

you glance up at neteyam and lo’ak and instead of meeting their eyes, you see their feet kicking as their heads stick above the water.

quickly, you push off the bottom of the ocean to send yourself upwards until your head breaches the surface.

“you alright?” you breathe out heavily, inhaling some fresh air as your arms wade to keep you afloat.

“you’re so fast. how are you doing it?!” neteyam cackles at you as his hands reach to pinch your waist. you squeal and send a splash towards him.

“slow down! we can’t keep up.” tuk whines, making you paddle over to her, “do you want me to swim with you?” you happily offer.

she nods excitedly with a beam, her arms flying around your neck to hug you.

tsireya and the other two pop up, “are you guys okay?”

“yeah. they’re just not good at swimming.” you say playfully, earning a killer side eye from neteyam and lo’ak.

“maybe good at swinging through trees…” ao’nung says cockily, making his sister hit his head with her hand.

“come on, bro.” lo’ak grumbles.

“we don’t speak this finger talk.” neteyam motions with his hand, “i will teach you.” she replies.

“follow us. we’ll go slower.” tsireya smiles and nods before disappearing under the water again. you suck in a deep breath, grabbing tuk’s hand before ducking under the water with her.

tsireya leads all of you to a shallow sandbar where a few other metkayina are hanging about.

ao’nung is the first to stand up with the rest of you following behind. he clicks his tongue and whoops to summon three underwater animals.

“these are ilu. if you want to live here, you have to ride.” he explains to the group as the animals wait for instruction.

this is your first time making tsaheylu with an animal. your kuru has always been just like everyone else’s, encased in a long braid down your back.

tsireya leads lo’ak to one, while roxto helps neteyam. you’re left with ao’nung.

the metkayina boy gestures for you to follow him into the water, “have you ever made bond with an animal before?” he asks.

“no, i haven’t. this would be my first time.” you say a bit nervously. he almost chuckles, you can tell he holds himself back saying something smart. he leads you into the shallow part of the water, holding onto the animals neck to steady it for you.

“just climb on. gently.. gently.” he guides you onto its back until you’re straddling the saddle. he holds up the part of the animal where you connect your kuru to.

the pink tendrils emerge from the ends of your hair, tangling with the ilu’s.

your entire body goes still as your nervous systems become one, a shock of electricity buzzes throughout your nerve-endings. the animal chitters under your thighs, making you suck in a breath that you didn’t know you were holding.

you can’t help but let out a happy laugh. you can feel the animals heartbeat in sync with your own, how it’s lungs expand with every inhale, breathing amongst yours.

“there you go.” ao’nung chuckles at your excitement, before slapping the back of the animal. it squaks and takes off, diving deep into the sea scarily fast.

the pressure of the water sends you flying off, twirling and spinning in as it leaves you in the dust. you kick with all of your might to make it to the surface, wanting to take a deep breath but instead you cough up water.

the salty liquid burns at your nostrils, making you gag as you try to breathe.

you make your way back to the sand bank, crawling up onto the wet sand and flopping onto your back. your chest heaves as you try to breathe normally, shielding your eyes from the sun beating down onto you.

tuk appears above you, seemingly upside down from your view. “are you okay?” her voice is full of worry as she looks over your face.

you can hear people cackling to the side, making your head turn towards the sound. it’s ao’nung and his stupid friends. you groan as you turn towards at the sky, squeezing your eyes shut. “yeah, tuk… i’m fine.” you breathe out.

you sit up with a painful whine, gripping your side as you stand up fully.

tsireya emerges from the water with a panting lo’ak, obviously he’s having some trouble too. “we can get started on learning how to hold your breath.”

your eyes dart around the area for neteyam, heart starting to race when you can’t find him.

“where is-?” you’re cut off by two hands slapping down on your shoulders, making you look up at whoever is behind you.

“where is who, hm?” neteyam flashes his smile down at you, his wet braids drip water droplets onto your warm skin. you let out a relieved breath when you realize it’s him, instantly leaning back into his chest.

his arms casually cross over your shoulders, holding you into place as he looks around at everyone. “so what are we doing next?”

“come.” tsireya motions with her hand to follow her. she leads the three of you onto some rocks, climbing over them and dodging the sharp edges with her feet.

kiri pops her head out of the water, calling to tuk so she can bring her back to the village. somehow the girl already found her own ilu after splitting from the group in the water. you know she has her own way of doing things, especially things that deal with nature.

you wave to them both before neteyam grabs your hand to pull you along with him.

tsireya, lo’ak and roxto are sitting in a circle on a flat part of the rocks. you sit down between neteyam and lo’ak, crossing your legs.

“breathe in…” tsireya puts one of her hands on her chest and the other on her belly as she inhales. you follow her movements, taking a deep breath and exhaling just like her. “and breathe out.”

her hand extends, holding something imaginary in her fingertips, “imagine a flickering flame. you must slow down your heartbeat.”

her eyes travel to lo’ak who was staring a hole into the side of her face. the boy stills as one of her hands press against his chest and the other against his stomach. “breathe in… breathe from down here. breathe out slowly..”

lo’ak continues to breathe with her instructions, but you can tell he is tense from how close she is.

“lo’ak, your heartbeat is fast.” she looks up at him.

“sorry.” he quickly looks away, “try to focus.” she mumbles as she intently listens to his breathing.

you glance up at neteyam and roxto, holding back a laugh as you breathe along with them. the tension between those two could be cut with a knife.

“let your mind go clear.”

after going through a few more breathing excercises with tsireya, she decides you’re all ready to practice the new techniques underwater. she summons the ilu’s to the surface, diving into the water and mounting onto the back of hers.

you take a deep breath before jumping into the water, using all your muscles to pull yourself onto the back of your own. once you make bond with the animal, the similar shiver bolts down your spine. you gently pet the animals head, smiling as you internally calm them down.

someone’s eyes burn into your skin, making you look to either side of you. neteyam is staring at you with a proud grin on his face, sitting on the saddle of his ilu. he sends a wink your way before diving under the water, making you gasp.

you’re right behind him, diving straight down into the water. your ilu know to swim faster because you want to catch up to him and this time, you make sure to hold on tight.

you chase him around a tall root of a mangrove, your hand reaches out to try and grab his tail but the boy is way too fast.

neteyam makes a sharp turn upwards, bolting towards the surface where tsireya and lo’ak are sitting. you roll your eyes and follow, breaching the surface with a big inhale of fresh air.

“you scared i was going to catch up to you?” you tease him, leaning forward on your saddle to look past lo’ak’s body to talk to neteyam on the other side.

“scared? i’m just too fast foryou.” he replies arrogantly, making you playfully gasp in shock.

“low blow, bro.” lo’ak laughs.

“say that three times fast. i dare you, lo’ak.” you squint at the younger brother, earning a splash of water sent your way.

“on that note, i’m going back to the village.” your ilu starts to swim forward slowly, “you guys coming?”

neteyam starts to follow you, but the other two stay behind. “i’m going to help lo’ak with his breathing. we’ll be right behind you guys.” tsireya smiles at the two of you.

neteyam and you share a silent glance before shrugging and taking off under the water. the two of you chase each other until you meet the waters edge, hopping off in the shallow water and swimming the rest of the way to shore.

neteyam helps you walk as you tread through the wet sand, laughing and giggling about the day.

“and then.. and then you went like this!” you motion with your hands as if they were the two of you underwater. your hands cross over each other as you demonstrate to him how you swam together.

as both of you walk farther up the beach, you finally realize that less and less metkayina are around you.

you lift your eyes up from your hands, darting around to see them scurry out of your way. as if you were diseased. your heart drops to your feet and your hands fall to your sides, slapping against your upper thighs.

“don’t worry about them. keep going.” neteyam urges you, one of his hands come up to your shoulder to pull you closer to him.

“i just can’t believe they’re still so afraid. if i was going to do something to them, i would have done it already.” you huff out in frustration, continuing to walk up towards the village.

neteyam leads you back to the marui, his arm sits around your shoulders. almost possessively, to show that you are not to be messed with.

when you walk inside you see kiri, who perks up at your presence, “i was waiting for you! come!” she jumps up from her spot on the floor, grabbing your wrist to pull you out of neteyams grasp.

“hey! where are you going?” he calls after you, making you turn your head and shrug.

“somewhere you don’t need to be!” kiri calls back to him, making you giggle as you follow her. she continues to pull you along to the end of the walkway, hopping off into the white sand.

“kiri, what are we doing?” you softly laugh as you stumble through the sand behind her, “i just need to show you something.”

your eyebrows furrow, but you continue to oblige. she pulls you down into the clear water, landing on her knees. “look!” she dunks her head underwater, staring at something in the sand.

you follow her movements, pressing your face into the cool water as you lay on your stomach.

she points at a tiny pinhole in the sand, almost barely visible to the naked eye. as the gentle waves caress the back of your head, and over the two of you, a little bubble pops on the surface of the hole.

kiri smiles wide, pulling her head to talk to you. “did you see it?”

you sit up, resting back on your heels and blinking a few times as you try to understand why she’s so excited about a bubble. “i did.”

“you think it’s stupid, don’t you.” she sighs, shaking her head. “no! kiri, i don’t. of course, i don’t.” you shake your head, grabbing her wrist to hold her hand.

before either of you could respond, you see something poking out of the hole. kiri hushes you and plunges her face into the water to watch a little claw extend from it.

you can’t help but play along, putting your face into the water to watch the creature emerge. until it sees two giant faces hovering above, and scurries back into its home.

the two of you lay there, feet kicking above the water as you watch the bubbles pop and the creature tease you by popping out and going back in. it’s quite therapeutic actually. just laying here and watching bubbles.

muffled conversation and splashing grows louder in the water as a few pairs of feet come closer to you and kiri. your head is the first to emerge from the water, blinking away the liquid from your lashes.

oh great mother. it’s ao’nung and his friends. this isn’t going to be good.

“huh? what’d you say?” kiri is the first to speak as she sits back on her legs, looking up at the group of boys.

you sit up along with her, staring up at them as your heart pounds. you’re ready to fight if they try anything.

“are you guys some kind of… freaks?” ao’nung asks as if it was a serious question.

“he asked if you are a freak.” roxto repeated the question, like the little ass-kisser that he is.

your eyebrows furrow as you scoff, your hand grips kiri’s to pull her out of the water and up toward the dry sand.

“no, we are not.” kiri rolls her eyes as you drag her up to the shore.

“are you sure? i mean you’re not even real na’vi, and that one isn’t even supposed to be here.” the boy continues to make fun, but all you do is tune it out.

“come on, kiri. let’s go.” you try to pull her along but he continues his rant, “the demon speaks!” he exclaims as the cackling boys crowd around you, harboring you both in the middle.

“i mean look at her! her skin isn’t even the same as ours, and look at their hands! i mean look at them!” ao’nung reaches out to grip kiri’s wrist while another boy grabs yours.

you attempt to pull away, but his strength is too hard to overcome.

“hey!” someone shouts from across the beach, making your worried eyes look behind you. the boy let’s go of kiri, but the one holding onto you doesn’t let go just yet.

it’s lo’ak. oh eywa this isn’t going to end up well.

“back off, fish lips.” lo’ak walks up to ao’nung who looks down at the sully boy, “oooh look another freak.”

roxto grabs lo’aks tail, “aww, look at his little baby tail!”

he quickly turns around and pushes him off, “don’t touch me.”

the boy holding onto you pushes you to the ground as he lets go of you, making you grunt as your body comes in contact with the sand.

kiri runs to your side to help you stand up, glancing over at lo’ak getting surrounded by the group, “leave us alone!” she yells at them, but her voice falls to deaf ears.

your ears twitch when you hear fast footsteps approaching from behind you, making your head spin around to see neteyam marching forward.

one of his hands grip ao’nung’s shoulder to pull it back before pushing him, making the boy take a step back.

“you heard what she said.” neteyam points at him, pressing his index finger against his chest, “leave them alone.”

another one of ao’nungs minions starts to say something, but he raises his hand to shut him up.

“back off. now.” he shoves his finger against his chest harder. ao’nung stares at neteyam with his head cocked to the side before raising his hands in surrender with a little smirk.

“smart choice.” neteyam takes a step back, his head turning to look over you and kiri, “and from now on. i need you to respect them, and keep your hands off of them.”

one of the boys hiss at neteyam, making you grimace in disgust. kiri sticks her tongue out at him as you flip them the bird, knowing they probably have no idea what that means.

“let’s go.” neteyam says, letting lo’ak pass him, then kiri and you. he puts an arm around your shoulder to pull you into his side as you walk away.

“you okay?” he asks you quietly. all you can do is nod, and wrap your arms around his waist and smoosh your face into his side.

“buh-bye!” one of them call out sarcastically.

“look at them. they’re all freaks. the whole family.” ao’nung comments as you walk away.

lo’ak stops in his tracks, taking a deep breath as he turns on his heel.

“lo’ak.” neteyam warns him to stop.

“i got this, bro.” he raises a hand as if that would stop neteyam from worrying.

he waltz right up to ao’nung, “i know this hand is funny. look, i’m a freak. an alien.” he holds up his pinky, wiggling it in the air.

“but it can do something really cool. watch.” he starts tightening his hand into a fist, “first, i ball it up real tight, like this.”

“and then..” he cranks his arm back and throws a hard punch right into ao’nungs jaw. the boy stumbles back in shock before another fist is slammed against his face, and another.

the last one sends the boy down to the ground, blood seeping from his nose. “it’s called a punch, bitch! don’t ever touch them again.”

ao’nung hops up and growls loudly at him before tackling lo’ak to the ground. lo’ak somehow gets on top of the boy before he’s pulled off by his tail.

neteyam sighs and scratches his head, knowing he’s going to have to help. he pulls away from you and storms into the fight. you and kiri watch with wide eyes as neteyam throws a few heavy-handed punches and kicks before he is pummeled to the ground as well.

“stop it!” kiri tries to call out to them, but of course they don’t listen.

“so stupid.” you grumble with your hands on your hips as you watch it play out.

you and kiri start to giggle as they drag each other by tails and ears across the sand, making them scream out in pain.

“hey, hey! stop! break it up!” jake storms forward, pushing the boys away from each other.

some metkayina boys scurry away, running into the village. lo’ak has to be peeled away from ao’nung, while neteyam stands and surrenders with his hands up.

neteyam and lo’ak are ushered back to camp away from the fight and past you and kiri.

after the boys are lectured and forced to apologize to the chief’s son, neytiri makes you and kiri help with making food.

you can’t help but think about everything they said to you and kiri.

calling you a demon, and her not a true na’vi. making fun of how you both have five fingers instead of four, how your skin isn’t the same color as theirs.

you didn’t even realize tears were dripping down your cheeks until kiri lays her head on your shoulder, hugging you from the side. she lets out a loud sigh, making neytiri’s eyes rise from the food she’s wrapping in front of her.

“what is wrong?” she asks, completely disregarding the food now.

“nothing.” kiri dismisses the question, as your head hangs low to hide your face. obviously something is wrong, but neytiri doesn’t want to push it.

it’s barely been two days, and all you want to do is lay back in the lush grass, smell the earth and dirt around you and feel the soft sun rays kiss your skin.

the weather here is harsh, and the ground is gritty and seems to settle in the worst spots. you want your forest back, to be able to leap from tree to tree with neteyam, kiri, and lo’ak.

you want to be with neteyam, to watch him grow into his position as olo’eyktan. you knew that these reef people would never accept you; you’re an outsider, a half breed, alien, and a sky demon. you’ll never be more to them than that.

as the sky transforms from blue into pinks and oranges, you finally finish your chores. neytiri and kiri leave the pod to deliver the food, leaving you alone in the marui. you walk over to your corner to sit down on your blanket and pull a book out of your pack to read. you sit back against a pillow that is supported by the wall.

a human book nonetheless; one that norm gave you before you left home. neteyam plops down next to you, almost ignoring him from how immersed you are in the book.

the boy pulls you into his side, almost half on his chest. “what are you reading?” his eyes skim the page as he rests his chin on top of your head.

“something norm gave me. about uh, science stuff.” you laugh.

“what kind of science stuff?” he questions.

“cells… and humans… and anatomy…” you breathe out.

“sounds boring.” he hums.

“it’s not that boring. it’s about my body. maybe you should read it to learn more about it.” you tease him slightly, making the boy slightly stiffen under your weight.

“give me that.” he snatches it from your hands, pulling it up to his height. “oh it says here… that when you are being clingy and annoying it means you only want one thing.”

your eyebrows furrow, spinning around in your spot to stare at him. “and what is it?”

“me.” he chuckles, handing the book back to you.

you snatch the book from the air, eyes skimming over the page to see what he was reading but it’s all about cells and mitosis. nothing about what you need.

“ugh! you ass!” you slam the book shut and throw it to the side. you can’t help but take the opportunity to climb on top of him, straddling his waist since that you’re finally alone together.

his hands find your hips instantly, holding onto your body tight. your eyes dance across his features, looking over his swollen lip that was cut open during the fight and the bruises slowly becoming more evident on his blue skin.

“what’re you staring at?” he questions with his big round eyes looking over your face too.

“you.” you giggle out, leaning forward to press a soft kiss against his lips. he winces slightly from the pain, making you pull back.

“no, no. i don’t want to stop kissing you.” his voice is breathy as he leans forward to capture your lips with more force this time.

he ignores the pain, kicking it to the back of his mind as he deepens the kiss. he hasn’t been able to kiss you like this in forever, everything has been so chaotic.

“do you realize how hot it was to see you fight for me today?” you mumble into the kiss, making him pull back slightly.

“it was hot?” he asks with a laugh.

“so hot.” you nod, grabbing his face with your hands to pull him back to you. one of his hands slither away from your hips, up your spine and to the back of your top.

his fingers play with the threads, ready to untie it before someone clears their throat to the side. you practically throw yourself off of neteyam, scared that it’s one of his parents.

“aye!” he calls out as you fling yourself backward, following you down to the ground to cushion your fall with his hands. this puts you both in the worst position with your legs wrapped around his hips and him on top of you.

his head turns towards the person standing at the entrance, his features contorting in anger. “what are you doing here?”

it’s ao’nung.

“look, i’m sorry for interrupting whatever that was…” the bruised boy holds back a laugh, “but it’s about your brother.”

neteyam looks down at you with disappointment written across his features. he lets out a loud sigh before standing up and walking outside to talk to the boy, “this better be good.”

while they’re both outside, you get yourself situated back on top of your blanket, watching the conversation grow more heated by the second.

you don’t expect neteyam to grip the back of ao’nungs neck to push him forward and lead him down to jake sitting with kiri near the water.

you fly up onto your feet, scurrying forward to follow him. but jake is already storming away with ao’nung, flying right past you with neteyam following.

kiri jogs up to you, her hand coming up to rest on your upper arm. her eyes are wide with panic, and her body slightly trembling from the bad news ao’nung must’ve just told them.

“it’s lo’ak. he went outside of the reef and he’s missing.”

tags: @k----a27s @aspenreadsfanfic @aliseaaah @bellwhether @xoxobabe @koalalafications @embersfae @mae-is-crazy @softhetixx @minkyungseokie @iwanttohitmyself @neqeyam @lovedbychoi @lala-1516

note: hope u guys liked this one!! obvs there will be another part so if you wanna be tagged inbox me or comment <333

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