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moviestarmartini · 4 months

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la playa - jude bellingham x reader

" yo te lo hice a ti en la playa / justo al frente de la orilla / ella y yo no somo' nada pero solo entre comilla "

pairing: jude bellingham x latina!reader

summary: situationship!jude asked to spend the summer vacations with you. he's been looking at you with something other than his hungry eyes for some time now.

wc: 2.0k

warnings: really short instagram aus at both the beginning and the end, situationship where they both clearly fell for each other but won't discuss it, pet names in spanish, NSFW, semi-public sex, soft dom!jude if you squint, teasing, p in v, praise, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y'all), creampie, cockwarming, fluff (aka two big goofs in love).

A/N: i haven't written a fic in more than a year but i'm on break from uni and this man has been plaguing my every thought UGHH i'm also tired of january, it should be spring break already so i'm manifesting that energy into both this fic and the new year !! reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated :>

now playing... la playa by myke towers

yourusername verano contigo 🤍

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, settling your phone down after the content had been uploaded.

You met Jude by spare chance. You’d been living in Madrid for a bit more than a year, occupied with your studies by the time the star boy reached the promised land. Jogging in Valdebebas at six thirty in the morning and having a black car pull up next to you was the way you were sure you were leaving this earth, instead finding a footballer asking for directions at the other side of the rolled-down window.

You easily discover the real reason later on. He was not lost, but had seen you around the residential complex; he’d only gotten the courage to talk to you after taking a big jug of coffee that morning, or so he claimed.

You’d noticed he had been staring at your glistening skin as you tanned your backside, but decided against commenting until the cheeky smile started to blossom. “Nothin’ “ He shook his head, but a tiny smile was half hidden behind his plush lips, giving away other intentions. The sun was so bright it was dazing, you’d sat under it for a while now hoping to darken your skin. The heat felt funny inside your tummy, similar to how Jude made your guts churn whenever he hooked your legs over his shoulders. “You’re sitting too far. C’mere.”

“Jude, mi rey, we’ve been holding hands the whole time I’ve been tanning.” You replied shortly, looking at him from behind your shades.

“Not close enough.” He practically whined, tugging at your arm with need, coercing you to get up and sit on his lap under the shade.

“Better?” You asked from your newfound place in his crotch, warm bodies coming in contact as you settled. You noticed him nod, his arm wrapping your waist in a way his forearm rested against your bare abdomen covering your belly button.

“Why won’t you post me?” His lower lip puckered out, eliciting a laugh out of you as you turned to face him briefly before turning towards the vast ocean in front of you. A small groan left his lips at the innocent movement.

After analyzing the vivid memory of his face, and thinking through your words, you spoke up. “Didn’t know if you wanted me to.” Once again, got comfortable in his lap. A sigh followed, coming from the man behind you.

“Have I ever told you how much I like that bikini on you?” Jude spoke after a minute or so of comfortable silence. You felt him toying with the drawstring of the bottoms. You could also feel something poking at your bare ass. “But not as much as I like you…”

“I think you’ve mentioned how you wanted to take it off.” Your voice barely came out; a mumble almost, ignoring the last sentence. Your heart thud against your chest, louder than it had done before when he questioned his presence— or lack thereof— in your vacation post. You peered around the area, only to find the waves crashing close to your beach beds’ location, and pearl-ish white sand spread for miles on end— just the two of you.

You felt him nod again, his chin brushing against your shoulder. Though he confirmed your suspicions of his true intentions, Jude’s hand didn’t undo the strap that held together the skimpy bikini. Instead, his fingers trailed the hem of the swimsuit, barely touching the warm skin. “Can I?”

The tone of his voice was low, the manner only brought goosebumps down your spine. But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of being eager, or at least the stupor of the hot day didn’t allow you to nod fast enough for you to look desperate. “You don’t know how happy I am to get you like this…” His hand sneaked under the piece at a painfully slow pace. Even though you knew what was going to happen, your breath got stuck in your throat.

“You always get me like this whenever you please.” It could be a complaint coming from anyone else, but it was just the reality of the situation. The relationship between you and Jude was… unclear. Feelings had been owned up to, but a title hadn’t been discussed. In fact, this was the first trip you tagged along; he asked you personally to do so. But you still decided against reading too much into it.

“You were saying, love?” Jude chuckled with malice, smirking at the way your skin prickled up at his touch applied to the bundle of nerves between your legs— which also spread involuntarily to give him better access. The way your words morphed with the moans and delirious sighs brought only further satisfaction to the British national.

“Don’t get all sassy with me.” You complained through a breathy laugh, eyes falling shut. His other hand trailed upwards your torso, to rest against your breasts and get straight into the task of cupping the left one first. The circles to your clit were steady, too steady for your liking. But still good enough to enjoy, and your moans let him know he was doing a stellar job. As per usual.

“What do you want, amor?” You managed to ask. Jude could’ve internally cursed, you knew him too well. A little too well for his liking. Instead of providing an answer, he pressed harder against your clit, the pressure catching you off guard, doubling down the attitude too.

“You,” Jude replied after what seemed years after he couldn’t take any more of your squirming. “Just you, all for me.” You could feel his stubble brushing against your shoulder before his lips pressed onto the length of your neck. It was all too much for you; the heat, the bright sun, the dryness settling in your tongue, his hands touching your body, his hard, clothed cock pressing against your backside, and the coil tightening in your lower stomach.

But he stopped.

Almost bewildered, you gasped, at the same time he undid the bunny ears that kept your swimsuit together. A smile crept onto your face as you turned to face him, thighs on either side of his hips. “You’re looking at me like that again.” You noted humbly, undoing the string of your bra. He couldn’t even formulate a response at the sight of your bare body, eyes scanning every inch, adoring the fresh tan lines.

“How could I not? You’re perfect.” Jude breathed out, leaning forward to catch his lips in yours. It was slow, but oozing with need and passion. You felt a pressure built up in your stomach, sparks, but you hesitated if he ever felt those around you.

“My perfect girl.” He breathed against your lips, hands holding onto your hips as he watched you undo the string that held his swimsuit tighter to his waist. He helped you pull the item down, barely resting at his upper thighs.

He leaned forward once again to catch your lips on his, letting out a tiny groan as you leaned further, just to tease him. “Kiss me,” Jude whined, stomach tightening at the firm grip around his shaft.

“Tranquilo, mi rey.” You cooed, working him up by rubbing his swollen tip on the warm and wet hole before finally sinking down his length. A pair of harmonious groans left both of your lips once you sat in his lap again, hips circling to get accustomed to the stretch.

“I can’t calm down when I’m obsessed with you.” Jude breathed out, large hands helping you steady the pace of your hips. He watched hypnotized by the way his cock disappeared in and out of your warm walls. His eyes were set, as though he wanted to train them to imprint the image in the back of his mind.

Your voice snapped him out of his trance. “Eyes up here, big boy.” The friendly banter defined your relationship; you often wondered if putting a label on things would make that disappear. But it was all just a wall to hide behind the adoration you felt for him, using it to dodge every compliment, in fear that none of his words were sincere. You could tell he wasn’t disappointed in the slightest when meeting your eyes, and the look you couldn’t pinpoint for the whole afternoon reappeared as he tangled his fingers in your hair and drew you right in for a kiss.

A kiss fierce enough to make you weak in the knees.

It was the perfect opportunity for Jude to accommodate his stance to start thrusting upwards, the sweetest noise he managed to squeeze out from the back of your throat was worth the tension in his core. Instantly, your back arched to give him the perfect angle. “I want you like this all the time…” He moaned into your mouth, hands on your hips to pin you down.

“Jude…” You mewled, the sound of skin coming into contact filling the empty air, harmonizing with the waves crashing near the beach spot you both occupied. You could feel your orgasm building rapidly, and Jude wasn’t foreign to the squeezing that built-up with every frantic thrust.

“C’mere doll, you’re doing so good f’me. Cum all over my cock, c’mon.” His voice was soft, the encouragement overlapping with his own groans of pleasure. He drew you into his arms, holding you close to his chest. Jude resisted the usual drawn-out teasing and mocking, now finding satisfaction in babying you as he slammed deep into you.

The string of incoherent babbles left your mouth shortly after his praises reached your ears. Jude closed his eyes to both contain himself from releasing at the way your pulsating walls were milking him so deliciously, but to also cherish the way your moans turned up the octave, nails digging into the sweaty skin of his bicep. Yet again, the heat you’ve been withstanding for the entirety of that morning hazed you, making a fantastic team with the warmth of Jude’s strong arms and the faded smell of his cologne mixed in with the salty air.

But all it took to push you right off the edge was a kiss. A single kiss pressed to your shoulder.

Your release consisted of a cocktail of your orgasm and a wave of realization crashing over you. You were head over heels with the man who was currently squishing your face against his buff chest, strong arms wrapped around your waist as he held you down. Groans and chants of your name replaced your meek moans and sighs, his cum filling you up. You allowed him the luxury of doing so every once in a while, and the dream-like stupor that enveloped your mind currently created the desire for him to do so.

The sounds of waves crashing filled the air once more, overshadowing the heavy breathing you shared. You stayed put, even cuddling closer to him as soon as the tremor left your legs. Time seemed to slow down, and you wondered how difficult the task of pulling away from him would soon be.

“Can I post you?”

Jude broke the silence, he’d been busy brushing your hair strands back into place upon the comfortable silence you’d set on. There was an arm still wrapped along the width of your waist. You pulled back to look him in the eyes, expecting to see playfulness in them, but finding a completely serious stare in return. “Since a certain someone won’t post me…”

“Oh, stop it!” You laughed, cheeks flushed at the idea. “If you think it's that great on an idea…” You puckered your lips while replicating his tone, cupping his face and planting a peck on his lips.

Jude smirked, licking his lips to chase the taste of you. But his eyes were soft, full of adoration. That look. It would blossom by just admiring your presence, or during one of his favorite activities– making you happy. “All I have are great ideas. Amazing, even.” He stole a peck off from you. You giggled, and a smile subconsciously peaked from behind his lips.

His heart flipped in his chest for the hundredth time that trip.

Jude, lost for words, just shook his head and reached for his phone. He started to wonder how a person could compete so easily with the grandiose, warmth and shine of the sun above.

But one peek down at you, snuggled up against him, answered all his questions.

judebellingham summer with you 🤍

A/N: used @ keilanilizbeth on instagram as the fc

and that pic on the left has me wishing i could match sambas with jude 😞😞

#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham x y/n #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham smut #football smut #football fic #𓈒ㅤׂ 𓇼✽ — writing !

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yandere-wishes · 20 days

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⭒ㅤׂ ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ, ɪᴛ'ꜱ ʀᴜɪɴɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ʟɪꜰᴇㅤׂ ⭒

⭒⌒★ Yandere!Dune Men x Reader ★⌒⭒

゜。♡ 𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓏𝑒 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒴𝑜𝓊 ♡ ｡゜

☾⋆ Paul Muad'Dib Atreides | پل معادب آتریدس

He dreamed of you again tonight. Something cathartic laying across the sands. Your touch haunts his skin, tracing scars and stars across his cheeks. He wonders what you see him as, something sacred or something exotic. Neither matters so long as you love him...

Paul's a volatile star, always one breath away from exploding. You're scared to touch the golden boy, lest your fingers return burned and your skull rattles with the echo of the cosmos. Still, it's hard to miss the devotion when his lips grace your knuckles. Hard to miss the cacophony of his heart as it reverberates across the desert.

ᯓ★ Leto Atreides | لتو آتریدس

Leto kisses butterflies into your shoulder, the taste of your skin feels like nectar on his tongue. His mind is always racing vying for your affection, your attention, your adherence. He traces your name across his star maps, each letter scribbled in a melancholy blue. You grace his chambers again tonight, it feels so wrong to only see your silhouette, to not feel your love bleeding like his does. He kisses you again, something akin to devotion. He needs to feel you under him again, needs to feel the softness of your flesh under his fingers. Something in him shatters, something inside him rearranges. You make him feel so erratic. Why must he love you this way?

𓆩⚝𓆪 Duncan Idaho | دانکن آیداهو

his lips taste of chaos, he pours his passion into you.

He feels you rattle inside his bones. Feels you coursing through his veins like unaltered spice. He's on another mission, laying in the sand and daubing your essence into constellations. He dreams of your fingers running over his muscles pushing adoration into him with a rusted kitchen knife. Your eyes never gaze at him for long. And yet each stare holds the weight of a nebula. He falls asleep to the phantom melody of your sweet voice. Dreaming of returning to you once more.

༺🕸༻ Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen | فید روتا هارکونن

There's a blade in his hand, blood marring pale fingers again. In every droplet, he sees your face. Phantom pains rampage when he hears your name. He dreams of you holding a knife to this chest, breaking the skin, and riving through muscle. Each night your ghost plagues him. Hurting him in all the ways he craves. He dubs you ecstasy, overdosing on everything he wants to do to you. Everything he wants you to do to him. He etches your name upon his bones, dedicating each open wound to you. He's going mad over the notion of you between his sheets, limbs entwined in a bloody mess. His tongue craves the taste of your flesh, starved like the trees on Arakkis. He must have you, he will have you.

-`𖤓´- Stillgar | ستیلگار

Stillgar's love is a desert tune, the winds rustling through the grains before the breaching of a sandworm. He falls harder and harder with each soulful gaze. He's spent his whole life chasing prophecies that he's forgotten how to wholly love something not written in blood and legend. He prays upon every star, that the maker has written your names together. That maybe some prophecy exists where you are to become his. He watches you sitting across the dunes, watching as the sunset pales compared to you. He whispers prayers beneath his breath, hoping you'll be with him soon.

݁˖☘︎ Gurney Halleck | گارنی هالک

He stiffens under your touch, under the sonority of your voice. His battered heart rattles in your presence, the air in his lungs freezes and he momentarily forgets that he is a soldier, a protector, a tool carved to fight for the Atreides. He's not meant to love, to crush, he's meant to kill, to teach, to follow. A weapon in every sense of the word. And yet he'd throw the world at your feet for a sliver of your attention. Gurney can't help the flames that grow within him. The raging pyro each night when he catches a rogue glimpse of you through the crack of your door. He wishes to kiss you, to hold you. To make you his in every way he knows he can't.

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theblueflower05 · 1 year

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First Love/ Late Spring

A/N: I had no right to listen to Mitski and write for Neteyam but here I am. I’ve been working on this on and off since December but finally decided to get serious and post it. Hope you guys like it!

Word Count: 5k+

Warnings: Masturbation(F receiving). Breeding Kink if ya really dig. Angst. Talks of self doubt and insecurity. All Characters are aged up 18+.

You are responsible for cultivating your own online experience, please do not interact if any of these tags are triggering to you. Minors DNI.

Summary: Neteyam has passed his Metkayinan Iknimaya, and is now free to choose a woman. Why did you ever think he would choose you? Neteyam X Na'vi Reader.

Series Masterlist(All parts can be found here)

Next> Crawling Back to You(Part Two)

One word from you and I would jump off of this ledge I’m on, baby.

Tell me don’t so I can crawl back in- Mitski, First Love/Late Spring

As the beloved niece of the reigning Olo’eyktan, in your life you had wanted for nothing.

Had spent the last nineteen years in isolated bliss. The island of Awa’atlu and your tribes familiar inhabitants were all you knew. Your life moved to a steady beat, as sure as the morning eclipse. As rhythmic as the tides.

And you had been content, really you had. Too busy to be bored. Too beloved to truly dwell on the gap. On the absence of a mate no matter how much your Uncle; Tonowari urged you to accept one of the many offerings of courtship. Lonely maybe, but happy.

Useful. Focused.

Ever since the Sully’s arrival, you have felt anything but.

Descending from the skies on ikran back, they left plumes of sand in their wake. Shook up everything you had ever known as they stood there on the beach, adrift. Out of place, different then anything you had ever seen with their dark skin and thin tales. That morning had been a whirlwind of harsh words and brief but tense negotiations.

So much change had happened in such a small amount of time that it was hard to wrap your head around-

The leader of the Sully Tribe, Jake, had begged Uturu for his family. And ever benevolent, your Uncle Tonowari had granted it to them.

Overwhelmed by crowds, you don't recall much more of that day except for the desire to run away. To escape the strained aura’s of the hesitant clans people and the exhausted newcomers. You’d gone to away, eager to get back to your herbs and tinctures. To the safety of familiarity to digest the entire situation.

You’d been stopped in your tracks, rooted in place, by a pair of striking golden orbs.

A stare like none you’d ever known. His eyes resonated with you. Plucking a cord n your chest that echoed throughout the rest of your body. You’d never felt anything like it. Never been so affected by a stranger.

Never been so affected by anyone.

Even now, months later, thinking of Neteyam that look he’d given you on his first day here makes you hot. You dream about it, about him often. He plagues you, has taken up permanent space in your subconscious.

You wake most mornings to phantom touches. To his voice ringing in your ears and an empty bed mat that feels too cold.

This morning is no different. Your eyes flutter open with a gasp and your heart is beating madly in your chest.

It's early. You have only moments before you will be expected to wake and start your daily routine. Really, you should’ve been up by now-

Instead you lie in your corner of the family mauri, the privacy curtains pulled around your bed as you shoulder into the woven blankets. Your hands slip down- lower on your belly and into the dip of your tweng.

Between your legs you’re hot, soaked and pulsing as you always seem to be these days. Your clit swollen almost painfully as you press your fingers to it, rubbing firm little circles as you search for some kind of relief. Humping harshly into your small hand, cupping your sex desperately as you recall Dream Neteyam.

He’d pinned you to a tall palm, your belly pressing against the rough bark as buried his nose in your hair. All panting breaths and wandering hands.

“You’re so beautiful”

“I’m right here”

“Let me have you, I have to have you”

Dream Neteyam says all the things you want to hear as he ravages you. He’s sure footed, cocky in that way that you knew he could be. He’s pushy and needy and you’d give him anything if he asked for it, Eywa all he had to do is hint that he wanted it-

“Spread your legs for me, sevin ”

You bite your lips bloody, your fangs digging into them as your thick thighs clamp shut around your hands and your pussy spasms. You want to cry out as you come. Fight the urge to whine because it’s not enough, you’re still so empty.

Neteyam’s name is always on your tongue as you come down from your self induced high.

“Y/N? My Child, are you awake?”

There’s no time to bask in the afterglow, you wrench your hands away. Wiping the mess on your blankets as you shoot up straight-

“Yes? Yes. I’m coming, i’ll be out a minute” You try to keep your voice from breaking and just barley succeed.

Ronal who had peeked a head into the empty mauri isn't convinced, but accepts it anyway “Hurry now, we have to get going. The tide pools will be filling and we need to restock the sea-tsam(kelp like herbs), you haven't even eaten breakfast yet. Up!”

You only release the breath stuck in your chest when she’s scurrying back out of the home- one of these days you’re going to get caught.

Your people are free with their sexuality, there’s no shame in pleasure whether it be self inflicted or given by another. But it would make those pesky questions arise- if you’re so needy, Y/N- why do you refuse every eligible bachelor that comes your way?

You huff, thinking about that very thing as you get ready for the day. Bruising through your long hair almost violently as you chew it over.

If you need to be fucked so badly, why are you three years into adulthood without a mate? You don’t even have a possible suitor- your friends are having babies, building lives, and you’re still living with your family.

It used to be that you we’re hyper focused on your role in the clan. On your training as part of the Tsakarem. On preparing Tsireya for the day she reaches adulthood and takes over her mother’s title.

You had always been family oriented, and the clan had accepted it-

But now there were whispers. Inquiries, never spoken to you but always about you. It’s an oddity that such a pretty young woman with such high standing is choosing to be alone.

Is there something wrong with you?

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The only thing that’s wrong with you is your inability to focus on the most mundane of tasks as of late.

After a quick breakfast, you’d taken off. Determined to knock the long list of chores down.

You’d collected herbs until your fingers hurt and the satchel slung across your chest was full to the brim. You’d tended to the Elders, and checked in on the mother with newborns, still so fresh to the world that they’re connected to their Sa’nok kuru, constant Tsaheylu necessary at such a young age.

Healing isn't always glamorous, and while you’d much rather be mixing potions and sketching in your journals- you check fevers. Change chamber pots. Kiss the scraped knee’s of young ones.

You’re supposed to be heading back to the Healer’s Mauri, the large hut where Ronal waits for you-

But instead you get sidetracked.

It’s all you seem to do these days.

Lounging in the soft warm sand is so much easier then running around the village.

You’d come across your cousins who were circled by Roxto and the elder Sully’s, and it hadn't taken much convincing for you to tag along on whatever little adventure they had planned for the afternoon. It had led you to one of the smaller isles, a tiny thing that was mostly white sand beaches and deep rocky cove tunnels.

Lo’ak and Ao’nung practicing their breath holds, taking turns weaving through the underwater caves. The two had went from going for each others throat’s to thick as thieves, and your glad. Lo’ak’s troubled, but he’s not trouble. Not the way that your cousin's other asshole friends are.

Roxto and Neteyam wade through the crystal clear shallows, hunting for clams that are abundant at this time of year.

You’re sat with Kiri and Tsireya, the three of you staying in the beach and giggling about current clan gossip. Chattering endlessly.

Neteyam’s shoulders are broad and glisten in the bright afternoon sun. You can barely tear your gaze away from him. Hungrily, needing to glance back every few seconds-

“The celebration is in less then a month's time” Tsireya states, a small grin playing on her lips as she takes in the scene.

She knows about your feelings for the eldest Sully son, you’d confessed them to her in a fit one night. Unable to keep them caged in your chest anymore. She can understand the appeal- her own eyes had been glued to the family since the arrival.

What she can't understand is why you wont tell him- or at the very least why you’re being so damn shy about it. You had never been this demure before.

“I know, the preparations have been a real pain in my ass” You reply, turning on your side to face her. Arm bent at the elbow, chin propped in your hand. “Tonowari has me assisting with getting the ceremonial mats woven. It’s not fair”

“I think he just wants you to be…a more active participant this year” Tsireya chooses her words wisely, ignoring your side eye “It’s sweet”

“It’s annoying” you hiss, eyes rolling harshly. Your tail swishes behind you, a firm pat on the sand.

“This is the celebration that’s held for the hunters. The ones that pass their Iknimaya’s?” Kiri asks, intrigued. She’s inquisitive and you’d assured her early on that she could ask you anything, that you’d help her understand the customs of your people.

“Yes and it’s so much fun. You’ll see, the Hunters come back from Motnaui(ritualistic hunt) and we spend the day roasting their catch, thanking Eywa for her abundance. There’s dancing and singing- “ Tsireya’s eyes sparkle as she talks about it, glazed with nostalgia.

You let her rant a bit more before cutting her off, “And mating. Most of the hunters will stake their claim on any courtships that have been started”

Because yes, it is a celebration for the newly joined adults of the clan, but goes hand in hand with the fact that it is their first chance to choose a mate.

“We have something like this back in the forest, it's the start of Fertility Season right?” Kiri verifies and you nod. “Does it coincide with the rains here, too?”

“Mhmm, most newly mated pairs will spend the week or so tucked away…-” Tsireya’s cheeks get red and you roll your eyes.

“Coupling” You interject and she shoots you a look that has you tittering. Awe, your sweet young cousin, still a year away from her own Iknimaya. Innocent and shy when it comes to such topics.

Kiri doesn't look scandalized- she’d come to adulthood back in the forest. Though she hasn't chosen a mate she had partaken in many of the festivities.

“Yes, coupling” Tsireya continues. “Its all beautiful really, its my favorite time of year. Right after the return of the Tulkun of course”

Its nice listening to your cousin's version of the celebration. You think that yeah, your own view of it all used to be mostly the same. That was until you’d reached adulthood, and had spent the last cycles without a mate of your own. This week that Tsireya found so beautiful had just been wet for you. Yourself and other unmated , able bodied Na’vi took on the duties of the disposed clan members.

It was an honor to take care of your people while they were vulnerable.

It was embarrassing to have not found a mate of your own yet.

You wonder if this year you’d spend the week in the rain again.

“You don't seem excited” Kiri whispers and you force a smile onto your face almost instantly, not wanting to come off so extremely transparent.

“It’s not that I’m not-”

“Y/N hasn't mated yet”

“Obviously Tsireya, thank you for pointing that out” you deadpan at the girl but she continues on, not phased in the least by your attitude-

“But I do think that will change this year”

Kiri perks up, big eyes interested, a brow arched “Really? Has someone caught your eye? Every time any one even tries to start courting you, you give them the cold shoulder”

“That’s not true, I’m nice about it” you defend your actions “I just haven't been interested in any of their offers”

“‘Their’ being half of the unmated men in this clan” Kiri’s sarcasm rivals your own, you flick a small shell at her forehead.

“It hasn't felt right and Eywa wouldn't want me to settle. '' The words taste condescending as they roll off your tongue, you don't blame them for scoffing at you but it's true.

If you had accepted an offer in the past, you wouldn't be free to follow your hearts desire now…your eyes flick back to the shore. Back to the broad shoulders.

“I’m sure whoever you choose will be honored,” Kiri chuckles. “Surprised though, probably. I overheard a couple of Elder’s making bets that you’d make another suitor cry this year”

The peel of laughter that Tsireya lets out is shrill and loud,

Roxto and Neteyam’s heads turn, far out enough now that the surely cant hear the conversation but can hear the shrieks of joy. Roxto grins and signs something that you can't quite make out and Neteyam gives a small wave.

You can feel the big stupid smile on your face, it’s no surprise that Kiri acknowledges it.

“You didn't answer my question. Is there anyone in particular that you have your eye on?”

You gnaw on your bottom lip. You’d been wanting to run it past her for weeks. Desperate for her insight but too embarrassed to muster up the courage and ask for it.

“Tell her, tsmuk’tu” Tsireya urges gently.

“I have been hoping that…Neteyam might choose to court me. After his Iknimaya” You admit it, carefully watching her for her reaction. Your own ears are pressed to your head, your fingers winding around each other nervously.

“I was wondering why that idiot was going through his rites again” Kiri nods, like she’d found the missing piece of a puzzle.

One that she wasn't willing to share with the group.

“What’do you mean? If he wants to be a hunter, he has to” You point out the facts, the law of the village.

“Well yeah, but I mean look at how our dad did it. He didn't jump through all of the hoops, he just tamed his Skimwing on his own time. My brother has been adamant about wanting to be apart of ceremony”

You ingest Kiri’s words greedily, letting them expand in your chest. It’s hope, the fragile kind, the scariest kind.

“Maybe he just wants to prove himself as a hunter. We’ve heard his skill is legendary to the Omiticaya” you suggest and Tsireya pushes at your shoulder, shaking her head.

“Maybe” Kiri shrugs her shoulders “But mating is important to Neteyam. He’s always wanted a big family, I think he really idolized our parents' marriage. Mom said he must’ve taken an interest in a mate if he’s making such a big deal out of being a recognized adult here”

A big family. Neteyam wants to be a father.

The thought is heady. The seed has been planted in your head and you know there is no way that you will ever be able to dig it out.

“Do you think that-”

You're cut off by booming laughter, by clatter and chaos. Who else could it be but Ao’nung and Lo’ak coming back from the caves, they had the worst possible timing. You shoot daggers at your cousins fat head.

“What are you girls whispering about over here?” 'Nung teases as he drops next to you in the sand,

“That would be none of your business” You snipe, “Skxawng ass”

“Why so hostile, cuz?” Ao’nung starts “I was the one who invited you out here? You don't want to spend time with little ol’ me?”

“I spend too much time with you as is. I was hoping you had drowned down in those caves so I could get a break- NUNG!” you squeal as your cousin shakes his head, wringing out his wet hair all over you. The water is shockingly cold against your sun soaked skin.

Soon enough, Neteyam and Roxto come in from the waves, baskets full of multicolored shells. More than happy to share as they join the small circle.

“You had such a bountiful catch!” Tsireya applauds, happily accepting the oysters that Roxto offers.

You’re awkward around Neteyam on a good day- there's something so intimidating about his beauty. So tall and angular. But today? After the admittance you’d made to his sister? You can barely look at him.

You feel heavy and clunky and ugh, why does he make you so nervous? You’re playing with your hair, twisting the thick tendrils around your fingers idly when Neteyam turns to you.

“Do you want some?” He asks, already prying the tough shell open with his knife.

“Oh, yes please. They’re actually my favorite” You grin, and at least your voice doesn't project all the nerves you feel.

“I know” He hands you the oyster once he opens it and you try not to pay too much mind to how his fingers brush yours.

“How would you know that?” you slurp at the rich juice, grateful.

“Roxto was telling me about it” He says simply, already working open another shell to hand out.

“Oh yeah! Y/N remember when you ate so many of these that you got sick at dinner! I’ve never seen someone puke that much, it was never ending” Roxto chuckles, igniting laughter from the group.

You wince, the memory is not a particularly good one and you don't enjoy reliving it. Especially not in current company. You can feel your cheeks heat intensely.

“It was so bad! You got it all over dad’s lap and he didn't know what to do” Ao’nung adds hysterically “He just started panicking- picked you up by your tail and tossed your ass outside”

Tsireya breaks, giggling behind her hand and Kiri all but chokes. Lo’aks shaking his head good naturedly as Ao’nung and Roxto are in stitches- the only one who doesn't laugh is Neteyam. No, instead he gives you a gentle kind of smile, before going back to his task of shucking.

You’re only the butt of the joke for moments more before it ping-pongs to Lo’ak, who has almost cut one of his odd five fingers off in the process of prying open an ornery shell.

“Oh! Look brother, how pretty” Kiri points out the large blush colored pearl that Neteyam had almost swallowed.

“That’s good luck!” You grin “They don't usually get that big”

Huh. Good luck you say?” Neteyam picks it out of the shell, holding it between his thumb and pointer as he examines how it shines in the sun. Beautiful…

You’re frozen when he reaches out, the pearl in the palm of his hand.

“Here” he offers it to you.

The purple flush that completely takes over your face crawls down your neck too. You're completely flustered by the simple gesture of good will.

You should tell him that you can’t take it- that he should give it to Tuk, his little sister that loves making jewelry. Instead you’re hungry for anything, will accept any scraps of himself that Neteyam will give to you.

“Irayo” you beam as you accept the pear, tucking it away in your satchel for safe keeping. “I love it!”

He just gives you another one of those ever soft boyish grins, his eyes pools of liquid amber.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As the weeks go by, there’s a certain light to you. A bounce in your step,

“Your aura has changed” Ronal informs you of the fact as the two of you sit in the Healers Mauri, plumes of heavy incense filling the space with fragrant smoke.

She’s far into her pregnancy now, but that has never stopped her from completing her duties. The salves she mixes with an expertise that comes from years of trial and error are potent and coveted.

Your lips quirk into a private smile as your fingers continue their threading. Working on a personal project in between your chores. “Has it really?”

She assesses you, her turquoise eyes all knowing as she takes you in. You’re a woman grown now far from the small child she had taken in with her husband all those years ago. In theses last few months you have blossomed, like a flower unfurling. She had an inkling of why-

“You are thinking of accepting courtship this cycle, yes?” It’s not a question, but a statement. One she already knows the answer to.

“I am” you whisper. “If he decides to pursue me, that is”

The comfortable quiet is back, both of you focusing on your respective tasks. You’d always been content just to bask in your Aunt’s presence.

“The Sully boy would be a fool not to court you” Ronal breaks the silence bluntly and you really should've had expected that she already knew.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Where dread usually lives in your heart at this time of year, lies only excitement. Joy, that fragile hope as you prepare for the festival. Anyone who knows you can see the change, you throw yourself head first into ceremony prep. Spend hours sitting with Tsireya eagerly sowing together new pieces of clothing for the festivities.

You sing as you tend to your house work, sweet little tunes that your family is surprised to hear.

Tonowari is beaming, endlessly happy that you are going to give a member of the clan a chance. He’d been questioning your self induced isolation for years, and was eager to see which of his warriors had stolen your heart. Ronal refuses to tell him even though he knows she knows,

“It is not mine to share” his wife rebuff’s every time he questions.

As the day of the Iknimaya draws closer you try to make sure that Neteyam knows that you are open to courtship. You spend a decent amount of time with his family anyway, Tsireya and Lo’ak always connected at the hip and Kiri growing into a close friend.

You ask him about his training, tend to any wounds he may aquire diligently. Laugh at his bad jokes, and listen to his stories of home. He misses the forest, you can tell. You selfishly hope that there isn't a pretty Omaticayan girl waiting for him.

At dinner, in the largest communal mauri, filled to the brim with clans members who are all but vibrating with excitement for the close looming festivities, you navigate the people.

In your hands, a large plate made from a recycled shell piled is high. Fish roasted over the fire, steamed rice and root vegetables that you had harvested yourself.

You’d watched Neteyam along with a handful of other training warriors limp into dinner late. They look tired and worn down.

He’d plopped down next to his family without getting himself food, and that just wouldn't do.

“Jake, Neytiri- I see you” You greet his parents as you approach. The sit close together, always intertwined in one way or another.

‘He idolizes our parents marriage’

You understand Kiri’s words as you watch Toruk Makto and his mate, as you appraise their close bond.

Jake grins, Tuk in his lap. Greeting you right back, easy to conversate with. Neytiri is quieter, hard to read. Intimidating, just like Neteyam who favors her so much in looks. Still the older woman signs the greeting back to you.

“You look really rough” is not what you meant to say to their son. Neteyams brow bones rise and you could kick yourself. Definitely would later.

“Thanks, I feel it” Neteyam responds with a tired chuckle.

Instead you laugh too, albeit awkwardly, trying to remedy the situation “What I mean is, you didn't get yourself food- and I know how exhausting training can be. Here, please eat. I’d hate for you to lose strength this close to your rite”

He accepts the plate of food graciously and you try to ignore the heavy feeling of eyes on you. His families, the clans. People have noticed you, have noticed this act of service. There’s only one thing it can mean.

“Irayo Y/N, I appreciate you” he thanks, making room for you on the log that he’s sat atop “Would you like to sit with us?”

“Very much so- but I promised Elder Raou’wal that I would help him back to his mauri. His legs don't work like they used to, and I don't want him to fall again-” you curse your nature, the fact that you offer your help so freely.

All you want to do is take that seat, so close to Neteyam that your thighs would press against one and others.

“That is very kind” Neteyam soothes “It’s okay, another time”

“Yes, another time” You know you sound like an idiot. You feel like an idiot. Standing before him and his family uninvited.

You need to make a quick escape, overwhelmed by all of the attention. “Please, get some rest before tomorrow. I’ve had to tend to over worked warriors all week”

Neteyam’s grin…is something else. Something not so sweet. Something that makes you flustered, that he’s looking at you like that in front of his parents, in front of the tribe. “Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. Will you be there, tomorrow?”

“Of course I will” your response is quick, eager and it just makes that look on his face more intense.

“Good. Then I know everything will go well” his words make your heart beat so loudly your ears ring.

You don’t even know what to say, can barley keep your cool as you utter goodbye to his family, all of them quite obviously amused as you begin to scurry away.

You know the blush is burning up your whole face, that everyone can see your feelings as clear as day.

But-

You can’t leave him like that. Not with him facing is Iknimaya in the morning, with all of its promises of danger.

“May Eywa be with you, tomorrow and always” you give him the quiet blessing, truly hoping that the great mother looks over him.

He softens, physically. All of him slumping, as though you had put a balm on a jagged cut.

You don't wait for a reply.

Tonowari watches the exchange from his place at the head of the room,

Oh.

That is who had caught your eye, the warrior that had broken your resolve.

He shares a look with Ronal, his eyes comically wide and she laughs lowly at him.

“Ah my love, you have always been so slow”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The Iknimaya rituals go as they always go, a long day full of young, strong hearted Na’vi eager to prove themselves. Most of them don’t succeed, at least half of them will need to wait until the next cycle to attempt it again.

Your family is at the center, you stand proudly behind Olo’eyktan Tonowari and Tsahik Ronal as they guide the young clan members through the rite of passage. Tsireya beside you, knowing that next cycle it will be her and Lo’ak attempting their own rites. Ao’nung cheering on young hunters that he had trained himself.

You love all of your people, the Metkayina one beating heart under Eywa’s watchful eye- yet you can't tear your focus away from Neteyam.

Your eyes are glued to him, and him only. The entire time. You watch, anxious and in awe. He’s so strong, all lean muscle and sharp mind. He mounts his Skimwing on the first try, much to the surprise of his peers. The people cheer him on, whopping loudly.

He’s beautiful, capable and skilled. He’s…stolen something from you. Abducted your soul, enthralled your thoughts in a way that almost felt intrusive.

You watch as the son of the first becomes a son of the sea, a man in both the Metkayina and Omiticaya tribes. A feat that almost none have accomplished.

The Motnaui is tradition, the freshly rited hunters will join the seasoned on a days long hunt. The time in the open ocean solidifies their bond to the tribe, their place that they have earned. Their chief will join them. Tonowari is eager, ecstatic for the time he gets to spend with his new hunters. With his ever growing tribe.

Everyone gathers to see the hunters off, so much love filling the crowded beach. Your people a buzz, tearful. Joyous.

You trail your fingers over the colorful Lei that lies around your neck. It matches the floral wreath nestled atop your head; the orchids are vibrant shades of fuchsia pinks and sunset yellows to represent your family.

They come in all shades, neon greens and baby blues, lilac purples and vibrant reds.

They are traded between your people at this time of year. Elders give them to children, sisters to their brothers. Tonowari wears many around his neck, the visual representation of how beloved he is to his clan.

To give a Lei can be friendly and platonic, sure. Especially if it is one of the dozens that are made just to be handed out- if a person wears multiple for clear decoration and celebration purposes only.

It can also be a very clear invitation for courtship- or at the very least consensual coupling. If a woman takes her lei off her own neck and presents it to a man, it is a sign of ownership. Marking that the specific male is taken for the duration of the fertility season.

You need to give Neteyam yours before he leaves, you want him to know that he has you. That you are his- and that you want him to be yours. That you will wait for him as he hunts and when he returns, he can have all of you.

You’re trying to find him in the crowd, your eyes scanning for the familiar dark blue skin that stands out so shockingly amongst your people-

Neteyam is with his family, all of them exuding proud energy. His mother cups his face in her lithe hands, his sisters hold onto his arms. His father pats his shoulder and his brother stares at him like he’s hung the stars.

You don't want to intrude on the moment, but you have to catch him before he leaves-

It’s like watching a horrible accident, like being witness to carnage that you just can't stop.

Seychelle, a clans member two years your junior, is beautiful. She’s a skilled singer and the daughter of a high ranking fisherman. She’s tall and shapely with pretty eyes, and its her first cycle as an eligible adult. As a woman grown who is available to mate.

She walks right up to Neteyam and his family boldly. Unafraid or ridden by anxiety like you always seem to be. All flirty smiles and fluttering lashes.

You’re too far away, can't hear what she says but you wouldn't want to anyway. Your chest is caving in and you feel like you can't breathe, your ears ring with the lack of oxygen.

You could challenge her. You have a high standing in the clan. You have first choice when it comes to mates,

But instead you just stand there. Bare witness to her taking off her bright orange Lei and slip it around Neteyams neck. He accepts it without a fuss, grinning and you can see his mouth form the words “thank you”.

Your nose burns and tears prick threateningly at your eyes but you know you can not let them fall. Not here.

You do what you do best;

You run away.

Not bothering to explain your exit to anyone, you probably couldn't form words around the lump in your throat anyway, you run as fast as you can. The world feels very far away, like it exists without you in it.

Your family mauri is empty, everyone's still at the beach and you don't even bother making it to your bed. You collapse right inside the entrance as the tears finally over take you and your eyes flood over.

What were you thinking?

How had you read this whole thing so wrong?

Your mind is dangerous, cruel in its confused, hurt state. It assaults you and you sob into your hands. You feel stupid now, in the special clothes you'd donned. Your hair twisted meticulously-

He had never been interested in you, you’d taken his innate kindness and skewed it. Neteyam had just been nice to you and you being the simple minded girl you were- had tried to force it into something more.

You curse yourself, curse your heart. Curse that fragile hope that you had clung to so desperately.

You cry until you feel sick, your eyes swollen and back tight from sobbing. You’re dizzy and tired by the time you crawl over to your bed. You don't even get under the covers, just stare blankly at the wall of the mauri as tears roll down your cheeks.

Who knew one person could produce so many tears? You wonder when your body will run out. You don't know how much time passes, only aware that darkness starts to fill the space as the evening eclipse arises.

“Oh, YN” the silence is broken by your cousin's soft voice.

Tsireya had wondered where you had gone, had been confused about your departure until she clocked Neteyam with a Lei around his neck that was quite obviously not yours.

“I’m sorry” Is all she whispers as she slips into the bed next to you, her arm winding around your middle.

It starts a whole nother round of tears. Of crying, mourning what you thought you could have.

“I-I-I’m so s-stupid” you stutter, snotty and muffled. She shakes her head, tears of her own starting to form as she holds you tighter.

“No, don't say that cousin. You’re not stupid” Tsireya soothes as she pets your hair. It hurts to see you in such a state. This had to be a mistake, she had been so sure of Neteyams feelings for you. Everyone had.

You shake your head, because you know you are. You knew you had little chance and still you’d paraded yourself in front of him like an idiot.

Never again, you vow to yourself.

To your shattered heart.

Wow, okay I didnt expect this to be so big, but I got so caught up in Metkayina Lore building that I kind of got sidetracked. Safe to say 90% of this story is going to be canon divergent. All of this Lore is my own creation and not Mr. Cameron's.

I have to give a shout out to two authors in the Avatar fandom that have inspired me the most as I write this.

@tiredmamaissy has really carved out a niche when it comes to the sexual nature of Pandora. I love the way she portrays Na'vi relationships and if this story leans a bit A/B/O its because I cant see the Na've not going to Heat's/Ruts now. She's just so good.

@loaksky when I tell you that reading her work makes me want to hone my craft, I mean that shit. She is a wordsmith in a way that you don't see much anymore. I am obsessed with how she long hand story tells and I def feel inspired everytime I read one of her fics. Queen of will they wont they/ slow burn.

#neteyam smut #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam x reader #neteyam #neteyam sully #avatar smut #smut #aged up neteyam #neteyam x you #Metkayina reader

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celestialprincesse · 3 months

Text

More Simon X Single mom!Reader💕🌙

Based on this drabble😚

wc: 1.1k

You're so, painfully reluctant to ask Simon for help. He offers, frequently, to help you get bedded in to your small flat, which only now, finally free from the clutches of your desperation, do you understand why it was so cheap. The first time he comes over for dinner he notes the way your kitchen faucet takes ages to put out hot water, and honestly, it took a fair bit of blindly tapping (smacking) random pipes to get any water at all. He seems to take issue with not only the lack of amenities that could help you get settled, but also the fact that the few basics that you do have access to don't work. You're a single mom, with a three year old daughter, and his sense of justice has always been at war with his longing search for peace and isolation.

Simon doesn't have much to do when he's not deployed, Price putting him on some kind of mandatory break after the last mission went south, as did his mental health. Because of said lack of hobbies, work and education, Simon finds himself doing literally whatever he can think of to occupy his mind, to forget about what happened in October - if that means helping you string a wreath on the front of your apartment door and lugging a christmas tree up the stairs for you, that's what he'll do. You'll be the first to admit that you're cash poor - buying this house ate up the majority of your savings, and the rest you're currently blowing through supporting your daughter whilst also trying to get a job, very contradictory to the fact that you're also trying to lay low.

The man that lives next door to you is no fool, not as blind and imperceptive as you wish he'd be. You see the way his eyes occaionally shoot to the fading tan line on your left ring finger and the small, raised scar on your bicep. Occasionally, he himself wishes that he wouldn't see the bags under your eyes or the way you clutch onto your daughter like she'll be ripped away from you - maybe then he wouldn't feel such a sense of duty to you. Maybe he wouldn't lie awake at night thinking of the fact that he's spent his life plagued by gunfire to protect innocent women and children, and now faced with the people he vowed to lay down his life for, all he can do is offer to fix your blocked hot water pipe.

So, when you stand on his doorstep, sniffling down fat tears threatening to spill, apologising profusley when you look up to see his confused expression, he can't help but to engulf you, and your wailing daughter at your hip, into what he can only hope is a comforting embrace. "Y' a'right? Whats goin' on?" He murmurs, a hint of panic in his voice. Simon knows the feeling of your past coming back to haunt you all too well.

"I'm sorry I just - the oven is broken, and I need to make her dinner and bath her and put her down to bed -" Is all you can manage before you're hiccuping into the hand not supporting your equally as distraught baby girl.

For a second he just stops, his brain short circuits as he struggles to comprehend the fact that you're coming to him for help. He can't understand the way you lay your soul bare before him, not when he's so distant, so intimidating, and you're oh so soft, lovely as a morning songbird and as warm as sun soaked sand.

"Would you mind looking at it?" Even you recognise how pathetic you sound, standing here practically grovelling at your neighbours door, but apparently it works when he's guiding you back to the front door you stupidly left open in your panic, pulling out a kitchen chair and easing you down as you sit between utter misery and the panic which filled your lungs like a puncture in a life raft when one little part of your routine you'd become so reliant on fell out of place.

"Gas's out." He tells you softly, like any more bad news might make you shatter completely, and the thought of delivering that blow makes him feel physically sick. "Right - Right, no gas." You murmur, brain whirring at a million miles a second in order to work out what to do next.

"You could use my oven? I'll call the gas company in the morning and have them install a new bottle."

His words make you stop, processing his offer, his generosity, the generosity of a man who's never once been cruel or rough or mean to you, and you give a little grateful nod, cooing to your daughter about how you're going on an adventure to Simon's place. The way he scoops her up so that you can stuff a bag with all of the things you need to make dinner, bouncing her on his hip to stop her wailing makes your insides warm in an unfamiliar way, one that you promptly shake off as you follow him across the threshold of his undecorated apartment, trying not to stare at your surroundings as you're guided to a kitchen that you're sure is far more functional than your own.

The way Simon doesn't have any cartoon channels on his TV, so he grabs his laptop instead, plopping your daughter down on the couch with a blanket around her shoulders and some kind of kids show playing on the screen makes you ache, and you can't imagine how a man with no kids of his own could be so good with yours. There's a softness to him despite his physical body being comprised of muscle and sinew and scars, his soul is gentle. He's gentle with you, and he's gentle with your daughter, and that's all that you can ask for.

You make enough dinner for the three of you, mostly to thank Simon for his hospitality, but also because you're starving and the meat needs eating. When you ask where the cutlery is, he gives a little chuckle, grabbing out two sets for you and him, as well as your daughter's little blue Peter Rabbit spoon and tray. He helps you dish up dinner, and when you go to sit at the table, he steers you into the lounge.

"You're not worried about food on the couch?" You squeak in utter confusion, to which he gives a laugh and plops down on one end, placing your daughters tray before her where she sits in the middle of the two of you, happily scarfing down her dinner and watching whatever Simon could find on such short notice.

When you inevitably fall asleep on his couch, your daughter doing the same, Simon sets a blanket over the two of you before going into the kitchen to call the gas company, putting down his card details to pay for the new bottle. He's happy to cough up fifty quid that he's sure you don't have if it means not seeing his girls cry again.

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lcvclywon · 14 days

Text

In another universe

back to masterlist

synopsis ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 You swore the next time you saw Sunghoon you would cuss him out and turn a cold shoulder. But when he suddenly appears at your apartment door one night, drunk and desperate, you find yourself faltering

now playing > •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:10 difficult - gracie abrams, anaheim -niki, hope ur okay - olivia rodrigo

warnings ˎˊ˗ cursing, crying, fighting, kissing, mentions of hoon being emotionally unavailable, mentions of breaking up, heavyyyy angst, mentions of alcohol, mentions of being drunk, mentions of children, open ending, use of the word masochist once, pet names

genre ⭑.ᐟ hurt to ??

pairings: non-idol ex!sunghoon x female reader

wc ᵎᵎ 1.28k

thoughts frm yuya 💭 fun fact this was actually based off a convo i had with my ex!!!!!! 😁😁😁 so! hit kinda close to home guys! anyways angst is actually so fun to write i won't even lie...

You had just finished taking a shower when you heard a few gentle and quiet knocks coming from your door, barely audible but loud enough for you to hear them. Hand still intertwined in your wet hair in an attempt to dry it, you peered out the peephole to check who was disturbing you at this hour.

Fuck.

Out of all the people you didn’t want to see, Park Sunghoon was at the top of that list. Yet there he stood, eyes heavy and lidded, hair a mess, and gaze averted on the floor, yet you could tell his eyes were plagued with desperation. And even though you so badly wanted to ignore him standing out there hopelessly, a small part of you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself if you had done that.

Keeping the door ajar you squeezed your head between the gap, his eyes immediately darted to your own. Fuck, you shouldn’t have done this. You knew you shouldn’t have done this because the moment his eyes met yours you felt the all-so-familiar sense of longing overcoming your soul, the sense of longing you’d been trying to fight off for 6 months; all for it to come crashing down on you again. Well, there goes half a year's worth of healing.

“Sunghoon? What are you doing here?”

“YN, I uh- I didn’t think you’d open up…” shit. His breath reeked of alcohol, of course, the only time he’d come to see you would be when he was drunk.

“Are you drunk Sunghoon?” your words lingered with bitterness as they left your tongue

“Just- just a bit…can I come in?” his eyes were still pleading, and that accompanied by the shaking of his voice would’ve been enough to break you. But you refused to let him do that again.

“Sunghoon you’re drunk you really should just go home-” your hands fumbled at the doorknob as you tried to gently shut the door, but Sunghoon was quicker than you it seemed.

“Please,” his hand reaching towards your own, “I’ll be good.” fuck.

You hated how easily you faltered under his words, his gaze, his touch. You hated it so badly, yet you allowed yourself to do so every. single. time.

Begrudgingly you opened the door fully to let him drunkenly stumble in, collapsing at the end of your bed. A scene all too familiar that haunted you in your sleep. You swore you would never let Sunghoon back into your life, that the next time you saw him you would spit insults in his face and stand your ground, yet with one touch of the wrist the defences you raised for yourself seemed to be built upon sand.

Seating yourself at the edge of your bed you allowed yourself to gingerly run your fingers through his hair, you missed this. However, that was all the more reason why you shouldn’t be doing this. Shouldn’t be allowing yourself to hurt again, just at the expense of a few fleeting moments of serenity.

“Why are you here drunk Sunghoon?”

“I,” he propped himself up, allowing him to stare into your glossy eyes, “I don’t really know. I got kinda drunk and- fuck I couldn’t stop thinking about you love.”

Love, fuck you hated how naturally it rolled off his tongue. “Don’t call me that.”

“Sorry…” he mumbled hazily, “Don’t you miss it though?”

You did. “No.”

“Well I do, I miss you YN. I miss all of this, your hugs, your voice, your touch, your anger. Fuck, I miss being scolded by you after drinking actually, it’s weird right, maybe I’m a masochist.” he said with a small grin

“Hoonie come on-” Hoonie, you didn’t even mean to say it yet the words seemed to come out of you like it was an instinct.

“I missed that too,” he cut in as his hand slowly drew circles around your knuckles, “Shit YN I missed you so much” his eyes slowly started to well up with tears, a few threatening to drip down. You hated how your heart still held a soft spot for him, but you hated seeing him cry even more.

“Hoon don’t cry.” your hands reached over to cup his face, fuck if this was all so wrong why did it feel so right. Like your hand belonged there.

“YN- fuck,” now he really was crying “I really do love you.”

Do, present tense. “Just because you loved me doesn’t mean I felt loved by you”

The memories you tried so hard to repress suddenly flooded all back to you, the arguments, the sleepless nights, the cold glares. The reason you broke up in the first place. You tried your hardest to forget that night, the shouts between you two that filled up your apartment, the way his words pierced through your heart like a spear, the way he walked out so easily. All to just walk back into your heart like he owned the place. Fuck he did own your heart though, he never stopped owning it.

“I’m sorry YN. I’m so so sorry, I should’ve been better. I can be better. Please, I’ll love you the way you’re meant to be loved. I won’t shut you out anymore, fuck I never should’ve. I just- please, I can’t keep living without you. I haven’t been living without you-” he was practically sobbing now. “Please YN, I mean it.”

You wiped away the tears running down his cheeks, seeming to not notice how your eyes were stinging with tears as well. “Hoonie I miss you too but, we can’t keep hurting each other like this. We aren’t good for each other”

“We were good YN. It was so so good, I just fucked it up. Please give me a chance, I can be better.”

Your brain told you to block out his words; and deny everything that was coming out of his mouth, but your heart seemed to overpower those commands. “It wasn’t just you Hoonie, I could’ve been better too-”

“No you were perfect.” he blurted out cutting you off, “I never stopped loving you. Can’t we just, start over?” desperation was an understatement to describe him, god he was a pleading mess.

You could practically hear your own heart-shattering. “I never stopped loving you either Hoonie. But you’re drunk right now, let’s just talk about this in the morning ‘kay?”

“Okay but, can I please sleep here?”

No, he shouldn’t. “Sure hoon”

Sunghoon made his way to the top of your bed, arm reaching out signalling you to come over. A signal you regretfully accepted. You nested yourself between his arms, breathing in his cologne while his chin rested on the top of your head. You hated this, fuck you hated how natural this felt. You hated how easily you could melt into his touch, his words, his scent. You hated how badly you loved it.

“I love you, my YN” his breath slightly hitched before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

You tried ignoring the lump in your throat but it was no use, the next words that came out of your mouth were swallowed with sniffles and quiet sobs “I love you too hoonie”

Maybe in another universe, you two could’ve talked everything out. Maybe you two could have reconciled and lived happily together again. Maybe the 4 years of dating didn’t disappear in one night. Maybe you two could’ve gotten married like he said. Maybe you lived in a nice 2-bedroom house in the countryside, dogs running around the yard whilst you both basked in the sunlight. Maybe you would have actually had the child you fantasised about.

Maybe, just maybe, Sunghoon would’ve been there when you woke up the next morning.

perm taglist! (send an ask to be added) @floweryang @cupidhoons @msauthor

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 4 months

Note

Hello! Could you please write full headcanons on the M6 getting home one day to find MC dead? They're not actually dead, their body is just vacant after a spell went horribly wrong, but M6 have no way of knowing that.

Thank you!

The Arcana HCs: When M6 think MC is dead

~ @arson-the-ace oh, this. this is going to hurt, isn't it. ~

CW for descriptions of panic attacks, bodies that seem dead, references to past trauma, and your beloved in lots of pain

-- to set the scene --

It was supposed to be an experiment, to see if it was possible to put your body in a preserved or frozen state when you left it behind to visit the magical realms. You did not expect the result to be your body looking and acting like a fresh corpse, or for the spell to have a three hour cooldown time before you could reinhabit it. Your incorporeal self sighs and sits next to your body, resigned to the boredom of waiting it out.

Until, minutes later, the door opens and your beloved walks in, and you have no way of telling them what happened.

Julian

Already fears the worst as soon as he sees you sprawled on the floor - his plague doctor experience with visiting the sick has his instincts fine-tuned for recognizing an unrecoverable patient

Trips over himself in his scramble to get to you and gets a nasty bump on his knee, but doesn't register a thing because he's finally reached for you and he's looking for a sign of life

A pulse. An exhale. The twitch of your eyes moving below your eyelids, anything, anything to tell him that you can be saved

He rolls you onto your back and tries to give you CPR, but he's breaking down too much already for any of it to be effective

Chest compressions turn into him ripping his gloves off, trying to find any of the warmth you've shared with him

Mouth-to-mouth turns into a choked sob against your cold cheek

He can't bring himself to keep going. Each failed attempt at reviving you gets his hopes up only to rip them to shreds again

He doesn't want to move forward. He doesn't want to go ahead with laying you to rest. He doesn't want to leave this drafty wooden floor, without a blanket or a pillow to keep you comfortable

And he can't stand up

He sits cross-legged on the floor, lifting your head onto his lap and laying his coat over you in lieu of a quilt

You watch him droop over your body, shivering in the drafty room without his layers, voice catching and breaking on quiet sobs as he sings you the lullaby his parents sang him before the shipwreck

By the time your eyes flutter open, his voice is gone

He's happy to see you - he's so, so happy to see you, but he keeps hovering over you like he never knows if you're about to collapse for good next time

If you love him, you'll wait a long, long time to do any more magic

Asra

They thought you were playing some kind of game, at first

He walked into the upstairs apartment to see you sprawled on the floor and teasingly called out your name, playfully asking what new mischief you were up to as he hung up his coat

And then you didn't answer them

As soon as he felt that old dread seize his stomach, he was hurrying across the room and asking you what was wrong

They can feel their own body growing cold as they touch your frozen one, pressing a trembling hand to your chest in search of the heartbeat they moved heaven and hell to give you

He's panicking, breaths coming quick and short. The motions of his arms trying to pull you closer to him are far too similar to his frantic digging in the ash filled sands of the Lazaret

They don't know what's worse - the images flashing across their eyes of your charred bone fragments splintering in their bleeding fingers, or your lifeless face lying heavy against their knees

His heart can't take it. The tears give way to an ongoing numb tremor. He places a preservation spell on your body as his last conscious thought before he lies down next to you on the floor

They put their arm under your limp neck and cuddle up to you like it's just another day's end, just another snuggle before sleep while they lay their head down on your icy, silent chest

You watch him hold your body in shock. He seems like he's caught between worlds, alternating between staring at your unmoving stomach while his shaky tears land and pool on your shirt

And reflexively whispering apologies as they mop up their tears with their sleeve, asking if they're squeezing you too tightly

He's quick to check your memories when you wake up, but no matter how healthy you are, he can't leave your side for a week

Nadia

Her intuition is telling her something is wrong as soon as she's approaching her chambers. Seeing you on the ground is her worst nightmare coming true

You're cold to the touch. You don't respond to her voice. You don't respond ... at all. She needs help, you need help, you need help now, she's going to get you everything you need, just hang on

She lifts you into her bed, and the chilly deadweight of your body is more than she can take. When she throws open the door and yells for a doctor, every servant in earshot hears her panicked sobs

She hasn't had a panic attack like this in years

Servants rush in and out in a blur, hurried murmurs and muffled exclamations fading into the background. She feels like she's been plunged underwater, unable to scream as her lungs fill with salt

She sits by your side with your hand in both of hers, clinging to the only part of you she's allowed to touch while the closest physician pokes and prods at your lifeless body. She can't see you anymore

And everyone else? They can't see their Countess at all

They see a broken-hearted woman holding steadfast to her lover's limp hand, breaths jagged and unpredictable as she wails through her teeth. Mercifully, her hair comes undone and hides her wrenched face and streaming tears behind a curtain of purple

You woke her, first from her dreams, then from her apathy, and finally from her loneliness. Watching you succumb to a sleep far stronger than the one that trapped her is wretched beyond words

When you finally stir awake, she refuses to leave your side as the doctors work to ensure that your vitals are stable and to try to figure out what happened and if there are any repercussions

She's glad you're back, but she can't stop herself from waking you in the middle of the night to make sure you're just sleeping

Muriel

He's already convinced of the worst before he can prove it

He knows what a body collapsed in sudden death looks like. He's seen them countless times on the sand of the Coliseum floor, slaughtered at his own shackled hands, but now it's you

Now it's the only person he trusted to never leave his side

He can't register Inanna beginning to whine and pace, he can't register the sounds of the forest outside, he can't register the fire slowly burning down and out in the back of the hut

A lifetime of trained alertness, muted, because his subconscious has decided it can't take paying attention to a world that doesn't have you in it any more

He's finally able to move again when he takes his first shuddering breath in minutes, and he begins to walk and reach towards you in the vague hope that all is not as it seems

But that's when some small, sick part of his brain starts up its tiny chant that he deserves this, that this is the effect of giving in to your misguided desire for his touch, that this is somehow his doing

But the larger part of him, the part of him that loves you and aches for you and is dedicated to you, leans past the furious pain and lifts your head and shoulders off of the floor, enough so he can lower his head and listen for a heartbeat, feel for breath on his cheek

And there isn't any. Your body is as still and lifeless as his hope for something better, and he can't breathe. He can't breathe, and he's curled up in a ball with you in his arms, and he can't breathe

It takes a few hours before he can master his thoughts enough to think. This has happened before, and it was possible for you to come back. Asra, he has to bring you to Asra, he'll give anything

You wake up as he's carrying you through the woods, and it's the first time you've seen his body go so completely weak with relief

Portia

At first, she thinks you're feeling a little silly and sleeping on the floor just to mess with Pepi. Though the way you're lying, you almost look like you've collapsed. That can't be comfortable

It's when she crouches down to wake you up that she can tell something's wrong. Your shoulder is cold - way too cold

She's already got tears running down her face, but never in her life has she let her sadness stop her from caring for those she loves. She shakes you, back and forth, calling your name over and over

At some point she realizes that it's too late, there's nothing she can do, and that's when she starts wracking her brain for someone who can do something. Anything. She's not giving up on you

She's small, but she's strong and she's in pain. She lifts your body and begins to stumble through the Palace garden with you. She leans into the volume of her wails, using them to call for help

First through the gardens, then through the Palace halls, unable to recognize the blurry faces through her tears, but determinedly blubbering out what's happened and how she needs help for you

When someone who might have been the Countess informs her that the physician is out, she walks out the front gates of the Palace. Her ears are deaf to the offer of a carriage into town

Vesuvia still remembers its plague. It has never before heard cries as anguished as the ones Portia sent echoing down the canals as she ran and stumbled with your body to Mazelinka's house

Mazlinka will be there. Ilya will be there. They both know plenty about medicine, they should be able to help, just hang on. Hang on, she tells your cold body, hang on for me

You stir awake just as she crosses the threshold into the basement dwelling, and the emotions she feels are so overwhelming that she almost punches you for scaring her. She can't stop crying

Lucio

When he walks into the room in the inn after his trip to the outhouse, he avoids the sinking feeling in his gut by telling himself you're just napping. On the floor. Without moving

And then he can't take the way his conscience is nagging at him, so he snaps and (not unkindly, but brashly) tells you to get up and get moving already, we're wasting daylight!

But you don't move. You don't give him a disapproving look. You don't grumble when he shakes your shoulder, or open your eyes when he pats your cheek, or smile when you hear your name

He doesn't understand. You're brave, you're strong, you're loving, you're good, you're full of goodness and you're better than anything he ever deserved after what you suffered because of him

Because of ... him

This must be his fault. This must be his actions catching up with him. This must be the fallout of all those rash deals, some forgotten deity must have run out of patience and come to collect

Of course this would happen. It would take a hundred lifetimes to sift through the pile of selfish bargains, of course he missed one, of course he failed to make up for his past deeds, of course ...

Of course an oversight like that would cost him you

But he's not going to let this go. You deserve better. He hauls you into his arms, ignoring the way he chokes at your dangling limbs, and rushes out of the inn and into the deep, deep woods beyond

He screams and cries and yells and threatens and pleads and begs until his voice falls silent and he can taste blood in his throat

He calls out to any angry being listening to tell him, tell him what this is in payment for, tell him what he can put on the bargaining table that would pay back the debt that demanded your soul

You wake up before he can do anything rash, but he squeezes you in his sleep now, as if to challenge any more soul thieves

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

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xdead-writers-societyx · 5 months

Text

Jorrāelagon

Synopsis: Despite the love he holds for his mother your husband's love for you will always triumph. Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: General HoTD shenanigans such as sexual themes, incest, vulgar language, and the sort so please if any such things make you uncomfortable or if you're underage do not engage with this post or I will feed you to my dragon!

1,750 words

A/N: This is a little follow-up to Pazavorve so I would recommend reading that first and you can do that by clicking here.

Ever since your return back to Dragonstone your mind had been continuously haunted by the ghost of Aemond, you were especially plagued by the broken screams of your name as he helplessly watched you flee from Kings Landing, as he watched you flee from him.

Days had soon drifted into weeks and yet even as you remained motionless on the balcony of your chambers your heavy eyes searching the tumultuous ocean below, he invaded every aspect of your mind, so much so you began to materialise Vhagar’s large form in every dark cloud that passed in the night.

Shaking your head, you brushed away the tangled mess of hair that covered your face, scoffing at your foolishness you made to return to the comfort of your bed when you were halted in your tracks by the thunderous growl echoing throughout the darkness.

Mouth agape in disbelief you couldn’t help the chocked sob that left your open lips at the sight of Vhagar soaring in circles high above the castle with an emotionless Aemond seated impassively upon her back.

With little care for the fact that you were in nothing but your sleep shift or the fact that Aemond could be accompanied by his brother you bolted through your chamber doors yanking them so harshly open that your unsuspecting guards could do nothing to stop you as you brushed past them ignoring their calls for you to stop.

Your bare feet made little noise upon the cold stone of the castle floors as you weaved through the many twists and turns until you had reached the winding steps that led you down till you came crashing out onto the cold sandy beach below.

“Dōna Riña, stop!” Choosing to ignore the worried calls of your mother your footsteps quickened in pace until they were carrying you hurriedly across the damp sand to where Vhagar had now landed in the near distance. (Sweet Girl)

“Aemond!” Your voice carried over the crashing of the waves until it reached your husband who turned upon hearing the one voice he had been longing to hear calling his name since you left, leaving his dragon he instead focused on his sweet wife as a call of your own name left his mouth.

But no sooner could you take another step to reach him had the footsteps that had been chasing you through the night caught up and before you knew what was happening a pair of strong arms were being wrapped around your middle pulling you into the body of your mother’s husband.

“Stop fighting!” Daemon’s voice was firm as you continued to thrash against his unwavering hold on you, “Go and stay with your mother.” With a skilled ease he had manoeuvred you behind him only releasing his hold on you once assured that your worried mother had you held securely in her arms, turning back he managed to unsheathe Dark Sister just as Aemond arrived before the three of you.

“Please Daemon!” Your voice sounded so unlike your own as you screamed out, the sight of the tip of the great sword pointing threateningly at Aemond’s chest had a wave of tears fighting to fall from your eyes, “Please do not harm him!”

Daemon tossed the briefest of glances of his shoulder,“Be quiet,” His voice was full of authority as he spoke before focusing back upon his stoic nephew, “Nyra, take her back to her chambers where it is safe.”

“Come along Sweet One.” Despite your mother’s soft words her strong hold on you never once wavered as she stared warily to her younger brother across the beach while attempting to wrestle you back the way you had come.

His uncle’s words had been enough to knock Aemond from his stupor, “You think that I would harm her?” The question had Daemon’s brows furrowing as the younger Targaryen took a step forward not so much as wincing at the sharp sting of Dark Sister piercing into the flesh of his sternum, “She is the only thing in this damned existence that I give a shit about, she is my love and my soul. I would sooner you cut my beating heart from my chest than see her harmed. She is the reason I have come here tonight.”

Aemond’s words seem to have peaked your mother’s interest as her grip loosened till only a soft hold remained, “What is it you come here seeking brother?” She was cautious as she took a step closer to the two men ensuring that you were kept safely by her side, “For I shall not permit you to take my daughter back to that den of snakes.”

Aemond moved his one remaining eye from where it had been glaring upon his uncle to instead meet the familiar eyes of your mother which you had been fortunate enough to inherit, “And I would not request this of you sister.”

Having far less patience and care for Aemond than his wife Daemon scoffed pressing his sword more firmly against the young man’s chest refusing to be caught off guard in this situation, “Then what is it exactly that you ask of us then, boy?”

After sparing his uncle a scathing glance Aemond chose instead to focus on your mother as after all she is the one that held all the power, “What I wish sister, is to bend the knee to the rightful Queen of The Seven Kingdoms and pledge my loyalty to you.”

“Why?” Your voice was quieter than you had intended as you gazed upon your husband your eyes wide in shock at the words he had spoken, “Before I fled, I begged you to bend the knee and you refused. Why is it now that you have had a change of heart Aemond, what has changed?”

“Nothing has changed,” Despite the sureness in his voice you knew Aemond better than anyone else which is why you knew he was holding something back from you, “I should have listened to you from the very beginning, Ñuha Zaldrīzes. My brother is not fit to rule as King and I have come to see that for myself, I can only apologise that it has taken me this long.” (My Dragon)

Your brows pinched as you moved as far forward to him as your mother’s protective hold would allow, “I do not believe you.” Searching his blank face, only you could decipher the anguish and conflict happening deep within, “What is it that you are not telling me Valzȳrys?” (Husband)

“Speak the truth nephew.” Daemon’s voice was firm as he stared menacingly upon your husband, “Lest your body be sent back to your cunt brother in pieces.”

Dropping his head defeatedly as though regretful of what he was to say Aemond chose to focus upon the sand below, “My mother and Aegon have declared you a threat to the realm and wish to see you dead.” Rolling his shoulders his eye danced pointedly between on two elder Targaryen’s.

Sighing your mother began smoothing a hand over your hair more to comfort herself than you, “That is of no surprise to me brother, yet you hold no well wishes upon us so tell me, why have you come here.”

Reaching for your mothers unoccupied hand you squeezed it tightly as your teary eyes gazed up at that familiar violet you adored so much, “Please Aemond, just tell me Ñuha Jorrāelagon.” (My Love)

“They want you all dead, your brothers, Rhaenyra, Daemon and you Ñuha Zaldrīzes.” Aemonds voice held a sadness and regret you had not heard from him since the night that he had claimed Vhagar where he had called you and your brothers bastards in a fit of rage, “And no matter how much I love my mother, I will always love you more.” (My Dragon)

“Let him pass Daemon.” You stared up at your mother in shock at her order, smiling softly she held your damp cheeks in her warm hands, “Avy jorrāelan, Ñuha Dōna Riña. You and Aemond will be safe for as long as you both choose to stay here.” (I love you, My Sweet Girl)

Clinging to her wrists in a fashion similar to how you had held to her skirts as a child your forehead dropped to rest upon her own as you whispered, “Avy jorrāelan tolī muña. Thank you for everything.” (I love you too mother)

“Surely you cannot think this wise Rhaenyra.” Daemons voice was one of disbelief as he looked between the two Targaryen women he cared for so deeply while holding firmly in his reluctance to welcome his nephew into their home, “He cannot be trusted!”

“Enough Daemon!” Your mother silenced him with a harshness any of you rarely ever heard from her, “There has been enough conflict in our family I shan’t add to it here, now let him pass.”

Despite his protests Daemon dropped Dark Sister from where it had been pierced into the chest of your husband for the entirely on the conversation and no sooner had it been sheathed was Aemond lurching forward to pull you into his arms.

“I have missed you more than my heart could take Ñuha Jorrāelagon.” Your sobs were muffled by the leather of his tunic as you grasped to each other so tightly it verged on painful but neither of you nor Aemond cared for you were both too enraptured in each other so much so neither of you noticed your mother dragging a grumbling Daemon back to the castle to give the two of you some privacy. (My Love)

Pulling your face from the crook of his neck Aemond began scattering kisses upon every inch of your face before finally settling on your lips, humming happily into his mouth your arms wound around his neck pulling him impossibly closer till the two of you had no choice but to release each other lest you suffocate, “However much you have missed me I have missed you infinitely more Ñuha Zaldrīzes. I have not known a moment of peace since you left.” (My Dragon)

Climbing upon him as though he was a wild dragon in need of taming, he had no choice but to move his hands from your face to the back of your thighs to hold you to him, pressing a lingering kiss to his swollen lips your eyes flitted across his face taking in every scar and groove you had missed so dearly, “Then show me how much you have missed me.”

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #hotd #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #targaryen!reader

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unholyhelbig · 12 days

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/unholyhelbig/748001277238181888/ive-reread-the-entirety-of-oversight-again-and

i’ve done this as well. i think u should 😌😏😉☺️🥰

Title: Rose Colored Glasses [An Oversight Oneshot]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Reader gets word that Natasha is hurt and rushes home to assess the situation.

Warnings(PLEASE READ): injury to nose & foot, slight blood, and shrimp

[a/n: Did someone request more oversight? Because I've got you covered. This is pure fluff, sorry for the lack of angst! It's short, and sweet, and not proof read because I don't have time :( ]

Check out the full Oversight universe

A quiet house was never a good sign. Growing up in the foster care system teeming with other wards of the state had taught you that. Often, you were three or four to a room. There were bunk beds with sheets slotted against the ceiling or stuffed under the mattress above your own, just for some type of barrier. It was an illusion of privacy, most of the time. Because houses like that were never quiet.

When you’d moved in across from Darcy after your 18th birthday, things weren’t quiet. Above you was a Latin-American couple that would wait until just past midnight to turn on a slow, rhythmic song and dance. Their steps were soft, and calculated. They carved out time for one another every single night between shifts. Just for the two of them. You often let the thumping base lull you to sleep.

The city was just outside your window. In the summer, you could prop it open with a brick and let the sounds of cars become a backdrop. There were sirens, and when the fire hydrant on the corner was loosened, the world welcomed a cold blast of water, sprinkling into the street. That was the opposite of quiet. That made your chest feel light, and warm.

After marrying Natasha Romanoff, you settled into the loudness of her home. Your home. Veronica was constantly running around the twists and turns of the bottom floor, Clint or Kate or Darcy galloping after her with a big smile on their face. They slowed themselves to make sure they didn’t break anything, but they wanted her to win, too.

Yelena often came with the muffled sounds of Russian techno bands coming from the headphones around her neck. It was a staple to find her in the kitchen with her head down, slicing into an apple from the backyard with precision unknown. Natasha would tug the headphones off to get her attention, or to send her into annoyance.

The night that Natasha got hurt was stifled with the sound of rain. It had soaked you to the bone, dripping onto the linoleum floor and then the carpet as you ascended the stairs two at a time. You’d been at the docks later than usual, the storm that had plagued the side of the harbor was relentless and delayed shipments.

The captain of the shipping boat your family had utilized for decades wanted to discuss something over whatever crap coffee you could beat out of the machine in your office. He spoke with a thick southern drawl, his mustache was encrusted with salt and sand. You had shed your coat and tried to warm yourself up by hugging your mug to your chest. Nothing seemed to work.

While you weren’t opposed to giving the man a raise, you were not the final say. Natasha was, and you figured he could use the company more than anything. The captain flicked through books that were on the shelf, taking two or three for his next journey out to sea. It was like clockwork with him, and you indulged his need for quiet companionship each time.

When your phone rang, you never looked at the caller ID. Those who were privileged enough to get your number knew to talk without any of the pleasantries that they were used to. Clint’s voice came through the receiver in a smooth, hushed tone that made you believe he wasn’t supposed to be calling you in the first place.

“Look, y/n, there’s been an… incident.”

“What kind of incident?”

He was meant to escort her to one of the many cocktail parties that Carlos LaMuerto was throwing at his mansion that bordered the same body of water that you resided on now. They were lovely get-togethers that you often attended with your wife. This, however, was the fourth one this month and your stomach was turning at the idea of another cocktail shrimp and lamb pate.

Clint had offered, seeing the desperation in your eyes. And while Natasha was reluctant, she ultimately agreed. No news of a bust had reached you yet, nor had a gun blazing argument. While the Captain licked his dry lips and scanned the books in front of him, you continued in hushed tones.

“Nat’s hurt. It’s not a big deal, you can finish up your business. She’s just being stubborn is all.”

An escaped sigh “I’ll be there.”

No shit, she was being stubborn. Your wife was bull-headed and wouldn’t admit to the smallest defeat. It eased your nerves slightly, and only slightly, that Clint said it wasn’t a big deal. No gunshot to the back, or knife to the throat. It wasn’t good enough, however.

Natasha would be upset that you tracked mud into the house and left your boots sloshing by the door. You were panting by the time you reached the double doors that led to your bedroom. They were, of course, blocked by Clint and Kate. Yelena was leaning lazily against the railing that was parallel. She regarded you with an uninterested stare.

“You did not have to come here.” She said, “We’ve got it handled.”

“She kicked all of you out, didn’t she?”

“What? She certainly did not!”

Yelena’s voice pitched with her lie. Kate’s cheeks turned an off-shade of pink and Clint just rthe hallway, that was a good sign. Still, neither of the two moved to let you into your own room.

“If you’re not going to get out of the way, can you at least tell me what happened?”

There was a muffled reply from behind the door. With the way that the voice flitted, you knew that she was trapped on the bed. Otherwise, she would have leveled you with a glare right here and now. The words were simple “Do it, you die.”

“Oh, come on,” You whispered harshly, turning your attention to Kate instead. She was the easiest to break. “Katie, what is the harm in letting me through? I’m going to catch my death if I stay in these clothes.”

“Catch your death?” Clint scoffed “What are you? A poet from the 1800’s?”

“I’m about to be breaking your fingers if you don’t-“

“You can’t even break wind,”

The two of your voices combined as you kept at it. You didn’t’ miss the wary look that Kate shot Yelena. One way or another, you’d get into your room. You refused to be banished to the couch again, especially in wet clothes. If you had to threaten ruining the rugs with your muddy footprints, so be it.

“Oh, Jesus Christ!” You held up both of your hands, silencing the chaos of the corridor. “Nat, you are my wife, you’re hurt. Whether you like it or not, I’m coming in. Does anyone have any objections?”

Kate went to raise her hand, but Yelena yanked it back down and shook her head no. You tore into Clint with a look that could drop him dead. He relented and stepped away from the door. While you had a moment of peace, you walked into the dark of the room. She’d turned out the lights, save for the half-moon that showed a pale pattern against the carpet.

When you reached for the light switch on the wall, Natasha let out a noise that was similar to a wounded animal. You halted, your actions and made out her form on the bed. She was folded in on herself, her silhouette rigid.

“Baby,” you cooed, closing the distance between you and the bed. She grunted again, this time in pain. She attempted to turn away from you. You lowered yourself onto the sliver of bed, approaching the situation softly. “Can I turn on a light?”

“No, I’m hideous.”

You chuckled softly “I highly doubt that, my love. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Natasha had never liked being vulnerable around you. It had taken a full weekend of you nursing her back to her feet after the incident on the pier for her to let herself cry. You held her for hours, her nose pressed against the small of your neck. She’d gripped onto you, as if you’d leave. But you never would.

Eventually, you saw her shadow nod. Before she could change her mind, you flicked on the lamp on the side table. It didn’t’ have a far reach, but the light was less harsh on the both of you. It was impossible not to notice the blood that had dried against Natasha’s nose, a split right down the middle.

You’d seen her with broken bones before, bruises that wrapped around her midsection. You’d put ace bandage around her ribs after drawing her a bath. This was nothing to be ashamed about. In fact, she often saw them as battle scars that would heal in a pink gash.

Her foot was wrapped up with a bag of peas and one of frozen carrots that Clint, or even Yelena had situated. There was bruising around her ankle, it looked painful and you internally winced at the coloring. She groaned into the small of her elbow.

“I want to die”

“Natty, it’s okay. This is nothing a cozy weekend inside can’t fix.”

She said something that was quiet and muffled by her arm. You didn’t understand her one bit, but she squeezed a single tear from her eye that you wiped away dutifully before it could reach the silk of sheets.

“What was that, baby?” You asked gently.

She threw both of her hands down and glared at the ceiling. Her fingers eventually found yours, squeezing your palm in reflex. Her words came out in a quick breath, “I tripped over a carpet at the stupid dinner party and hit my face on the catering table.”

You were effectively silenced. That was very un-Natasha. But lately, you and Clint had been pestering her about her eyesight, especially at night. It wasn’t something she wanted to hear. In fact, each time you brought up the idea of glasses, she would effectively silence you with a glare, or even a kick to the shin under the kitchen table if you had company.

You bit the inside of your cheek and ran your thumb over her hand. She clutched your hand tighter. Now was certainly not the time to laugh, and while you fought back the initial giggle, you were more concerned about your wife.

“I’m so embarrassed.”

“I bet you got right back up.” You said, pressing your palm against her cheek. “None of those fancy party types would dare question your influence on this city.”

“Shrimp went flying everywhere.” Natasha pouted.

“Everyone was tired of shrimp anyway, even the shrimp.”

She grasped at the collar of your jacket and pulled you closer to her, pressing her lips against your own. They were warm, the warmest thing that you’ve felt since getting caught in the passing storm. You were careful not to lean on her ribs, breathing in the rosewater scent of her.

Natasha pressed her forehead against yours, running a hand up your spine. She grimaced. “You’re all wet.”

“Well now I am,” You smirked against her jawline, leaving a little nip in your wake. “You need to get glasses.”

“Don’t change the subject. You’re getting the sheets all damp, and you smell like fish.”

“I smell like fish?” You giggled, pressing a kiss to the exposed part of her neck. You felt Natasha laugh too, using her hands to cover her face from the blush that was blooming against her cheeks. “We’re talking about me?”

She laughed harder, attempting to shove you off but you let your body go slack against her, not using your arms to hold yourself up anymore. “Yes! Go shower!”

“Mm, but you’re so warm.”

“You’re not going to be warm if I make you sleep on the couch.”

You gasped dramatically, pulling your head off her stomach and meeting her dark green stare. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me. After the day I’ve had, I refuse to sleep next to my wife when she smells like a marina.”

Even while she said it, her voice was gentle, her fingers working over your scalp to brush the wet hair from your eyes. You pulled yourself up to give her another peck on the lips, careful to avoid the split nose and busted ankle.

“Fine, but only because you need more aspirin.”

She grunted, crossing her arms over her chest. “Can’t believe I let you through my defenses.”

“Uh-huh. Get some rest. I’m going to go talk to your defenses about getting you an appointment with an optometrist.”

You turned to move towards the bathroom, already craving the warmth of a shower and some clean pajamas. Two steps from the doorway and you felt a plush throw pillow hit you directly on the back of the head. Natasha had amazing aim, always had, and always would.

You bent down and picked up the gold upholstered pillow, giving her a faux glare. “You’re not getting this back.”

“Oh, come on, baby.” She stuck out her lower lip “I have to prop up my foot.”

“You should have thought of that before you launched it at my head.”

[Taglist🕷♡: @dumbasslesbi, @lostremind, @toouncreativeforausername @autorasexy @eringranola @mikookaaaaaao @marvelwoman-simp @pacmanmiles @mostlymarvelsstuff, @mrsrushman, @milfsandtittyenthusiast, @random-raccoon4, @ravenromanova, @mysticalmoonlight7, @ahintofchaos@cowboyboots236 @lissaaaa145, @natsxwife@a-spes, @kyleeservopoulos]

#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanov #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanov x y/n #Natasha Romanov x you #Natasha Romanov x reader #Mafia au #Yelena Belova #Kate Bishop #Clint Barton #Reader insert #request #natasha romonova #Bishlova #kate bishop x yelena belova

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teapartyprincess4two · 1 month

Text

—

Teaser

pairing: Queen!reader x King!Matt

classification: slight angst

warnings: none

—

Crashing waves are heard from the Eclipsum shore, a fog forming as the water slaps against the muddy sand. The sun is setting, slowly disappearing past the horizon and painting the sky a beautiful shade of purple. Matt sits alone, the old wooden dock beneath him groaning as he sways one leg back and forth in the water. His other leg is propped up, a lazy arm resting there to serve as a pillow for his head. His long hair settles just under his eyes, shielding his vision enough so that he only sees the black ocean that pushes and pulls around him. Matt’s mind is plagued with stress and worry, the only reason he’s even here is to escape the reality that awaits him back at the castle. This is meant to be his happy place, it is his happy place, yet he’s anything but.

The sudden sound of trotting hooves rings in his ears, alerting him of someone’s unexpected arrival and breaking him from his thoughts. “Matt?” a tentative voice asks, pulling on the horses’ reign hard enough for it to stop. There are only two people in this entire kingdom who refer to him by his this, everyone else opting for far more formal titles.

Reluctantly, Matt averts his eyes from the ocean, looking up to see none other than his youngest brother, Chris. The moon has replaced the sun’s place in the sky, the soft luminescence reflecting on the suit of armor that adorns Chris’s body. The white stallion Chris sits on adds to his strong, knightly demeanor, and if Matt didn’t know any better, he might’ve let himself get intimidated by the long sword that hangs on the armor’s sheath.

Matt doesn’t have to reply, or ask what Chris is here for, he already knows. Using one hand, he pushes himself off the wooden dock, a low grunt following as he dusts off dirt and debris. His attire completely juxtaposes Chris’s, a flowy, long sleeve white top flapping in the wind as he walks over to his brother. Matt places a gentle hand on the stark white stallion that stands before him, caressing its face before finally providing Chris with his full attention.

“Get on. I’ll take you back,” Chris instructs, a strong chin pointing to the rear end of the horse. Matt mulls it over, deciding whether or not to accept the invitation, before deciding that he’d rather prolong the process, “No it’s okay, thank you. I think I’ll walk.”

Chris shrugs his shoulders, steering the mare back into the forest before whipping the leather rope so that the horse picks up a steady pace. Matt watches as Chris disappears behind the treeline the further the horse trudges into the forest.

Slowly, Matt begins the long walk back to the castle, each footstep being met with the bioluminescence of the ground beneath his feet. A soft sigh escapes his lips as he takes one last look behind him, a faint, faraway kingdom coming into view.

For a second he wonders what it would be like to live there instead, but shrugs the thought off as the fog that rises from the ocean completely engulfs the view.

—

A warm tropical breeze shakes the palm trees that line the Solara shore, seagulls laughing as they circle the sky in search of an area to perch on. The sun is setting, a deep orange color colliding against the previously blue sky. You stand on the balcony of your bedroom, watching the seashells glisten under the white foam of the waves. Your palms hold a firm grip on the elegant marble balustrade, giving you the leverage necessary to peer over the edge. Small children giggle as they play on the warm beach sand, earning a small, sad smile from you. Usually a day like this would bring you nothing but happiness, but as you watch the children chase each other, you can’t help but be overwhelmed with a deep sadness.

The sound of your heavy bedroom door creaking open catches you off guard, your hands pulling away from the balustrade and clutching your chest. “Ma’am?” a soft, careful voice asks. Immediately you recognize it as Martina, your handmaid. You know she won’t enter without permission, so you take a deep breath to gather yourself before replying, “Come in, Martina.” Her hands nervously fidget with a white apron so old that it’s yellowed over the years.

“They’re waiting for you downstairs, Ma’am,” Martina whispers, avoiding eye contact at all costs. Although she’s only the messenger, she’s scared because she’s delivering news that she knows you don’t want to hear. Another breathy exhale escapes your lips, clammy hands smoothing down the front of your ruffly dress. She notices your unease, and in an attempt to help you stall, proposes an idea, “Would you like me to help you change into a new dress, Ma’am?”

You steal one last glance out the balcony, but the sun has completely set, and the sky is so dark that there’s no use. “Yes. That would be fine, Martina. Thank you,” you reply, shaky hands beginning to undo the lace of your dress. Another strong, warm breeze pushing past you, blowing your hair in front of your face. Instead of providing you with a comforting feeling, it feels like a slap to the face, reminding you that you’re quickly nearing reality.

Martina’s hands expertly weave the lace out of its constraints, and for a second you find yourself wondering what it would be like to be her instead. You dwell on the thought until Martina is instructing you to lift your arms, pulling the dress over your head.

Pitch black briefly surrounds you as the fabric swallows you whole, you wish you could stay there forever.

—

MASTERLIST, SERIES MASTERLIST

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03 @k-l-a-w-s @hearts4chris @maryx2xx @biggesthat3r @herxyzblog @getosuckers @mega-katya44 @tillies33ssss @fratbrochrisgf

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swanimagines · 3 months

Text

SLEEP THIEF | MORPHEUS

Summary: You, being plagued by a sleep thief called insomnia, managed to free Dream a few months back. Now he wants to pay you back by finding a cure for your insomnia - and maybe because he has developed feelings for you.

Once, in the realm of dreams, where reality bends and imagination takes shape, Dream of the Endless found himself trying to help a mortal, who suffered from a condition that prevented her to visit his kingdom.

Insomnia. That relentless thief of sleep that plagued your every night. Despite always being tired, having eyebags and looking old beyond your years, you were always kind to Dream. Somehow you had sensed he was a vital part in the world, and in little, tiny gestures over two years, you helped him with every way you could. “Accidentally” swiping your feet over the summoning ring. Guards hadn’t slept well, so they fell to sleep after drinking your special tea. Little things - and eventually, your constant, diligent effort was worth it and Dream got himself out. You didn’t know what had been the thing that made the trick, but his glass prison was shattered and the guards didn’t remember much - it was concluded the summoning ring had weakened over time and Dream could finally push through it.

You got fired from the mansion with the rest of the workers after Mr. Burgess was cursed with eternal nightmares and your services weren’t needed anymore - and within the first week of you tossing and turning in the bedroom of your new apartment, you got a visitor - startled by a man with glowing eyes standing in the corner of the room, almost letting out a scream before you recognised him and turned on your bedside lamp with a smile.

“Dream? Is it… really you? I thought you were gone, that I would never see you again,” you mumbled, beaming as you sat up properly. “I… I knew you got out, but I thought you’d be busy to get the world rolling again.”

Dream smiled softly, taking a step towards you. Then he spoke, with a deep voice - to be honest, you hadn’t expected him to sound like that. “Yes, it is I. I have returned to express my gratitude for the compassion and help you offered me when I needed it the most. The world is on its track again, and you are to thank for that.”

You smiled back bashfully, looking at your hands fiddling with your blanket. “It was a human thing to do. I knew your captivity was a reason why the world was messed up. I’m happy you popped by, it’s good to see you’re alright.”

Dream was quiet for a moment, studying you. Then he spoke again. “I wish to grant you the gift of sleep. You have suffered from the lack of it for so long, and a mortal like you does not deserve such a fate. It is not caused by my absence, but I want to help you with it.”

You frowned, looking up to him. “I’ve always had it. Sleeping pills help somewhat, but even they might not let me sleep throughout the whole night. Are you sure that- I mean, I know you can do it, you’re the king of dreams, after all. But are you sure your help will last? I read it may originate from the way brains are built, and I don’t know if you’re able to change it. You can’t have time to guard my sleep every night, can you?”

Dream was quiet for a moment. “I will do everything I can in my power to ensure you will be able to sleep your nights without struggle. For tonight, my sand will have to do.”

And with that, he took out his pouch and you, knowing what he was about to do, settled under your covers. You looked at Dream as he placed the sand on the palm of his hand and the last thing you saw was him blowing the powder-like sand on your face, and you fell asleep on that very moment.

—

“Are you sure about this, Dream?” Matthew asked as he flew by his master, settling onto one of the many chairs in the library. “Humans and Endless rarely mix well. You know it could be dangerous. The potential consquences could be destructive.”

Dream didn’t even look up to his companion as he read one of the many books he owned. “She showed me kindness during my captivity. It is time for me to repay that debt.”

Matthew was quiet and used the time to ponder his next words to groom himself. Then he tilted his head, studying his friend. “Are you planning to act on your feelings?”

Dream paused for a moment, tapping his fingers on the cover of the book. Then he finally looked up to his friend. “I understand your concerns, Matthew. But should we deny ourselves happiness only because the risk of heartbreak it may involve?”

Matthew sighed. “I suppose not.”

Lucienne emerged from behind the corner. “Your devotion for her is undeniable. And your wish to help her through her condition is noble - but remember the consequences what could happen if she starts to dwell in dreams and forget to live. You may get blindsided about what will lie ahead if you let your feelings overwhelm your senses.”

“I am aware, Lucienne,” Dream said, lowering his eyes back down and tracing his finger across the page of the book. “I do not know if she feels the same way. It may be she does not return my feelings for her.”

Matthew and Lucienne exchanged a glance, before the librarian handed a book to Dream. “I believe this book will help with her condition. Just… be careful, my lord.”

Dream’s eyes flickered up again, and he nodded slightly. “Thank you, Lucienne.”

And so, Matthew and Lucienne left Dream alone - he would find a cure for you, let you visit his Kingdom. And even if it would never be anything more than friendship, Dream would enjoy having you around in his Kingdom every night, walking with you through the field and listen to you telling about your day.

It had been a while since he had had a mortal human friend - Hob being immortal - but he had a feeling that you could be one of his greatest friends who have ever lived.

---

Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

#morpheus x reader #morpheus #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless #the sandman #the sandman x reader #morpheus x y/n #morpheus x you #morpheus fic #the sandman fic #reader insert #female reader #my works

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solecize · 2 months

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: every summer on your grandpa's farm was real-life magic to your younger self, who left a piece of her heart in amber valley when the years went on and the town became nothing but a faint childhood memory. soon enough, you become rocked by his death and realize the dead end in your bustling city world. this leads to you making an abrupt decision.

despite knowing nothing but designer purses and the corporate ladder, you uproot your entire life to take over your grandfather's old farm in the town you were desperately trying to remember - alongside a familiar face from your youth that permanently finds his way into your heart.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jungkook/reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. inspired heavily by stardew valley, friends to lovers, childhood friends, cowboy jungkook, small town alternate universe, slice of life, grief, growing up, mutual pining, jungkook as a parental figure 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 3.8k 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. no warning except main characters being dumb and some SERIOUS tension

part six: the dreams and the sunday market ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ previous. next. masterlist

xv. the dreams

you were dreaming of kissing jeon jungkook.

it was akin to a recurring nightmare, the way you woke up in cold sweat after picturing his beautiful lips on yours in your sleep. ever since the night where the two of you shared dinner, the image haunted you and chased you even in your lack of consciousness. it didn’t help that your day always began at five a.m, leaving you waking up, distraught, and no sun to warm your surroundings.

today in particular was not looking to be on your side. you slept through your first two alarms after getting lost in the dream of kissing jungkook on a beach in front of luscious palm trees and golden sand. even worse, it was the day of jungkook’s return to the farm.

in the hours between your awakening and jungkook’s arrival, your nerves casted away your grogginess. you wondered why you didn’t decline his offer to finish the gate, but remembered he made it clear he didn’t have feelings for you - there should be no problem, then.

since he was coming in the evening, you had an entire day ahead of you. somehow, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. it was maddening, as if the thoughts of jeon jungkook settled beneath your skin and chased your every move. it was a gloomy day with light showers, but the thoughts kept you warm and you didn’t like it one bit.

by 5 p.m, you were wrapped up for the day. it shouldn’t have taken so long, but with your late wake-up and the plaguing image of your childhood best friend, you found yourself sluggish. you decided that you were going to proceed like you’d done in the weeks prior.

the last thing you wanted to take care of was inspect the garage once more. you’d been meaning to test out the old tractor inside to determine if you could sell it off or not, but it was a problem when the door was stuck in the same place. now, you were outside, wrestling with the garage, once again.

“i guess this does have to be fixed. . .” you mumbled to yourself, remembering jungkook’s words.

then, you heard your name being called. it startled you, since you hadn’t had any visitors in quite some time, considering jungkook’s absence. however, you knew that voice from a mile away and weren’t surprised when you turned around, taking notice of him approaching across the fields, coming face to face with the man in question.

you hastily wiped the beads of sweat on your temple. “hey,” you said when you saw jungkook, who likely wandered to the fields when you didn’t answer the front door.

“hey, y/n,” jungkook replied, setting his toolbox down by the fence he was to work on. today, he was wearing a black button down over a white t-shirt with jeans. his hair had grown slightly longer since you first arrived to amber valley and you liked the way it fell over his eyebrows.

as you always did, you graciously thanked him. “i really appreciate you coming to help me out.” even though he essentially shut down any possibility of you being able to come to terms with any feelings you had. you didn’t say that part out loud.

“stop that, you know i just want to lend a hand,” he waved you off and you wondered if that was what you knew. you weren’t sure if that was what your silent agreement with jungkook truly involved, with his persistence and your strong will - two things that were not easily challenged, but crumbled at one another.

"you still fighting with that old thing?" jungkook chuckled softly, looking at the garage door behind you.

you only rolled your eyes. "i thought i could get it."

he shook his head, continuing to laugh, and then glanced at the watch on his wrist. “oh, i guess this is the first time i’ve come by in the evening. you’re done work for once.”

you didn’t realize this fact either and tried to fight a silent panic - you usually had a task that you could pretend to be busy with, in order to distract yourself from jungkook’s presence. then, you began what to wonder what was wrong with you? it was just jungkook. were your vivid dreams really chasing you into acting strangely? and was he not quieter than usual, or were you overthinking things?

jungkook eventually excused himself to get to work and you decided that you needed to push your barrage of thoughts and questions away. instead, you entered the kitchen and proceeded to make dinner as usual, except a bit extra for your handyman of a friend.

when you peeked outside after finishing, you saw that jungkook was drilling something into place. he’d taken off his button down shirt at some point, tying it around his waist. you cleared your throat loudly to get his attention, but it didn’t stand a chance against the sound of the drill.

“jeon jungkook!” you yelled, but he still couldn’t hear you. it was only when you brought your hands to your lips and let out a loud whistle when he finally caught your eye, turning the drill off promptly.

jungkook shook his head in disbelief, walking towards you with a laugh. “namjoon was right, that is a really loud whistle you can do.”

“i made dinner,” you said, hiding your nerves. in reality, you knew little could go wrong, as the two of you were sharing meals together for weeks. unless, of course, if he tried setting you up with a friend again.

“you know, i took you as someone who would be shit at cooking, but you’re pretty good,” jungkook teased, as he left his tools on the ground and walked towards you. “and thanks, of course.”

you rolled your eyes. “i’m good at everything.”

“lies. there’s a bunch of things i’m better than you at,” he mused, as he opened the door back inside for you.

the half-serious bickering made you drop your shoulders in ease, settling back into the same comfortable atmosphere that you always shared with jungkook. this was still the brat that used to whine if you got a better guitar hero score than him.

the two of you soon settled into some local gossip. jungkook began telling you about how your grandpa used to constantly predict that the lee family would divorce sooner or later, which was apparently now in progress. you wondered how close he really was to him.

“i wish we gave him one more summer with the three of us,” you said, as the two of you moved in fluid motions around the kitchen. the movements were natural and almost domestic, with jungkook knowing where all of the plates and silverware was and made it his job to set the table. meanwhile, you began getting the food ready.

he nodded. “i think he would have liked that. he’s probably happy that we’ve become friends again.”

the image of your dreams last night flashed before your eyes when jungkook said the word “friends” and you chose to ignore it.

instead, you responded, “i’d like to think that we never stopped.” your voice was quiet, unsure of the statement that you just offered.

it was nice, the way that you and jungkook managed to pick up your friendship after thirteen years as if nothing happened in between. and, even then, over the past month, the two of you slowly began to grasp the lives you led in the time apart. the people you grew into. somehow, it still clicked.

jungkook paused, in the middle of bringing out plates from the cupboards. “you know, me too,” he said. “too bad you stopped responding to my letters.”

this made you also freeze in place, eyebrows furrowed at his remark. “what do you mean? i didn’t stop responding,” you turned around to face him. “you’re the one that stopped replying.”

“i’m pretty sure i was the last one to send a letter, bunny,” jungkook chuckled, but you sensed some bitterness. “i sent you a letter one spring and then when june rolled around, your grandpa randomly told me you weren’t coming back.”

you shook your head, lips parted. “i never got a letter.”

by now, you finished setting food on the table. it was a full american-style breakfast, with chicken and waffles, scrambled eggs, and a platter of fruit from the farm. you made a jug of iced tea and set out some water. jungkook’s eyes trailed to the table and his eyes were unreadable.

“that’s too bad,” he spoke slowly, as if remembering something. “breakfast for dinner?” then, jungkook shook his head, as if shaking the thoughts off, and proceeded to set the rest of the table.

your eyes widened. “sorry, do you not like it? i thought it would be a good change - “

“no, it’s not that! thank you, it looks delicious. i love breakfast for dinner,” jungkook smiled. it was as if he flipped a switch and you were itching to know what he was thinking before.

“if you’re not up for it - “

“you’re annoying, come sit down with me,” jungkook interjected again, but was playful and rubbed his hands together, ready to dig in.

you punched his shoulder, which you knew did little damage, but he yelped anyway. sitting down across from him, jungkook began serving the both of you and you didn’t object when he plopped food on your plate for you. it was the same routine that you had before and frankly, it was nice.

“i just didn’t think it would you’d never come back to town again,” he commented and you were confused, until you remembered what he said earlier.

you found yourself biting the inside of your cheek. “me neither. i don’t know what hapened, i used to love it here. . “ you trailed off, looking around your surroundings and out the window, where the silver of the amber valley sky looked down on you. “i did try looking for you at some point, but you aren’t on social media.”

jungkook shook his head, pouring two cups of iced tea. “not really. and especially not after i started taking care of jiwon.” he passed one cup to your side, which you quietly thanked him for. “i think i saw you one time online, in early high school, but you looked different and i wasn’t sure.”

like every teenager, you had a phase of experimenting with your look and went through different kinds of hair colours and makeup styles. now, in your twenties, you’d grown tired of constant change and like your city life, settled for mundane and simple. just before his passing, your grandpa once remarked that you began to look like yourself again.

“we would’ve still been best friends in high school. i’d keep you around to copy off your homework,” you joked, cutting into a waffle. you weren’t kidding when you told jiwon about how smart jungkook was, as he’d always been since you two were young. though you were academically gifted yourself, you’d held jealousy for the way jungkook learned every hobby you liked at twice the learning speed.

“aw, i was your best friend?” jungkook banterd, which made you kick him underneath the table. “i’m joking. we’re best friends forever, isn’t what we put on the tree?”

“oh my god, don’t remind me of that!” your cheeks went hot, as you recalled that memory that jungkook was referring to.

when you were about nine years old, you and jungkook had the genius idea to carve your names into a random tree by the town square. while doing so, you were caught by mayor kim walking by, who made a big deal out of you kids “defacing” town property. when he scolded you and told your grandpa though, the latter got a kick out of it.

the rest of the conversation was light, which was exactly what you needed. in spite of this, jungkook’s remarks about your letters echoed in the back of your mind. you made a mental note to look into his claim - though the said letters from your childhood likely lived in your dad’s apartment, where you had spent your middle school to high school years at.

midway through the dinner-slash-breakfast, you caught the way jungkook’s eyes were fixated on you and didn’t move. you gave him a questioning look and he sighed.

jungkook said, “there’s jam on your face.” his tone was pretending to be disappointing, but holding back a laugh.

“oh, where?” you began wiping your cheek, which turned out to be dry. you continued swiping around, still missing.

he groaned. “it’s literally right there. by your nose, bunny. come on.”

after looking like he was about to simultaneously lose his mind and burst out laughing, his chair creaked loudly against the wooden flooring and jungkook stood up. he made strides around the table over to you and bent down to meet you at eye-level. you jumped at the sudden movement and the fact that jungkook’s face was inches away from yours. he was so close that you could count every single one of his long eyelashes if you tried.

“it’s right. . .here.” at some point, jungkook ripped away a piece of paper towel from your side and you nearly flinched when you felt his touch on your cheek.

he gently wiped away the spread with a tilted head and a crease forming in between his brows, seemingly looking everywhere but in your eyes. you were so close to him that you could hear his steady breathing. you wondered if he was close enough to hear the army marching in the middle of your chest. it was hard for you to breathe yourself when your entire body froze at the contact.

you managed to let out a whisper, fighting the shiver creeping up your spine. “thanks.”

jungkook’s lips looked exactly like they did in your dreams. “no problem.” his voice was low and you swore you saw his eyes flash to your own lips, before looking up at you.

you weren’t sure how long the two of you were still for. the only thing in your ears was the sound of your heart, which was amplified over the ticking of the grandfather clock several feet away. nobody dared to move until the ringing of a cell phone, which caused both of you to jump.

it was jungkook’s. the phone was sitting on the dining table and it rang because you knew he always kept his phone off vibrate for his sister. when you saw a picture of jiwon and jungkook making silly faces at each other flash on the screen, you cleared your throat and scooted backwards, knowing that jungkook was going to immediately take the call.

“sorry, one sec,” jungkook eventually snapped back into reality when he saw his screen. he picked up his phone and trailed into the living room to take the call.

it was time for you snap back into reality, too. you felt stupid and like you wanted to bang your head into the table in front of you. there was no way he was going to kiss you, you’d witnessed one too many reruns of this fantasy in your dreams. you just spoke about how great your friendship was.

best friends forever. you repeated that in your mind, along with jungkook talking your ear off about how great you and taehyung would look together.

xvi. the sunday market

on the last sunday of each month, the valley closed up most of its main roads for pedestrian access only and the community came out to hold a market in the town square. local busineses came out to sell their usual and offer up fun, seasonal products to buy. your grandfather usually set up a stand, but you found yourself a little too shy to be doing it alone for your first month in town. thankfully, you were wedged between jimin and hoseok, right in between their booths.

“honestly, i’m glad you’re with us, y/n. at least we can all smell like fish,” hoseok hummed, as he began unfolding a tablecloth.

to this, jimin rolled his eyes and continued shuffling through some flyers in his hand. “we’re not even selling fresh fish this month.” in front of him was instead a variety of different seafood products, such as artisanal spread, marinated seafood in jars and sustainably sourced caviar.

meanwhile, you were proud of what you scrambled together last minute. cartons of eggs, jugs of milk, yogurt, and quick-growing crops like microgreens and radishes. you took your job very seriously and wanted to make a good impression on the townsfolk.

“thank you, y/n! hoseok, can you put some sunblock on for once? sheesh, you’re going to get burnt!” hoseok’s mom, mrs. jung, was one of your first customers that day and happily took home some fresh basil and eggs. her sneer at hoseok was clear as day, even underneath her floppy hat, snapping at her son from right beside you.

hoseok groaned. “mom, i’m almost thirty. stop!” and still, he reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of sunscreen.

mrs. jung ignored him. “bye, y/n! bye jiminnie!” she blew a kiss to jimin, which made hoseok grumble.

you laughed at the interaction, as you fanned yourself with one of jimin’s flyers. it’d been less than an hour since the market began and it was still early in the morning, so the square was sparse. you could even look down to your left and still see seokjin’s booth on the other side of the market, beside the mayor’s booth manned by namjoon.

it was now the end of june and marked your first month in town. the skies were clear and bright, a sight that you promised yourself you wouldn’t take for granted. every morning, you woke up before the sun did and by the time the morning came up to greet you, you were filled with vibrant energy for the day.

“hi unnie! you look like you’re in a good mood today!” it was jiwon, holding onto peanut with one hand and her teddy bear in another. she was stylish for a kid her age, wearing jeans and a trendy graphic t-shirt that you suspected was jungkook’s influence.

taking a cautious scan of your surroundings, you let out a quiet breath of relief when you saw that jungkook wasn’t around. he was definitely nearby, though, you had a feeling he wouldn’t let jiwon roam around with the puppy with anyone else.

you greeted, “hi jiwon! you’re up early.” it was about nine in the morning and if you were a kid, you would not be a morning person during summer vacation.

“yeah, oppa made me come with him,” she yawned extra loud, clutching her leash close.

to your right, jimin cleared his throat. “where is jungkook?” he asked.

“he’s avoiding y/n,” jiwon sang, like it was a normal thing to say out of the blue.

your ears turned pink. you thought the two of you were good. it’d been over a week since your dinner with him at the saloon. now come to think about it, since your last encounter, jungkook had yet to make another return to the farm to finish whatever gate he was repairing - you stopped keeping track at some point, just letting him come over and continuing to hope that he found something new to fix.

hoseok pinched his nose. “jiwon, you can’t rat my boy out like that,” he whispered, side-eying you, even though you could clearly see.

to add fuel to the fire, you noticed the way jimin was scoping his surroundings. his eyes narrowed over to a corner, where you finally saw jungkook talking to mayor kim. when you did so, he looked over and made eye contact with you for the briefest of seconds, before darting away. before you knew it, jimin began hollering.

“hey! jungkook! come here!”

“what are you doing?” you hissed, taking a step towards jimin’s booth. “i thought we made a truce, park jimin.”

“trust me, i’m helping you out.” jimin’s cheeky grin made you take a deep breath, holding back profanity for jiwon.

you weren’t sure if the boys knew anything about what was going on with you and jungkook. hell, you weren’t even sure what was going on with you and jungkook. ever since he began detatching, you’d become confused and kept second guessing if you said or did something wrong. maybe coming by his house randomly was weird, but he did the exact same thing. the way he randomly suggested taehyung as a date for you also sent mixed signals.

jungkook and mayor kim looked towards your direction, taken aback. then, jungkook gave the latter a polite smile, before walking in your direction. great.

“did you need help with something, jimin?” the tight-lipped smile and tone coming from jungkook indicated he didn’t want to help with anything at all.

jimin’s smile remained on his face, as he shook his head. “have you seen y/n’s, uh, cilantro? so fresh.”

you turned to jimin, dumbfounded, but also irritated that you got roped into the conversation. meanwhile, jiwon batted her eyelashes, looking back and forth between you and her brother. her innocent demeanour was almost convincing, but you knew you were dealing with a jeon here.

“oh, hi. i didn’t see you there, y/n,” jungkook said.

bullshit. your tablecloth was bright yellow, compared to jimin and hoseok using the same white for their booths. you were wearing red lipstick and a sundress. he definitely noticed you. this made your jaw tense, annoyed that jungkook was acting different out of nowhere.

“yup,” was all you could say, a dry tone settling in your voice.

jungkook raised his eyebrows. “late night or something?” he asked, as if your voice indicated fatigue.

“no.”

“your eyebags say otherwise.�� usually, jungkook teased you with a certain playfulness, but he instead matched your dry tone.

hoseok immediately interjected, “oh, haha! ha - uh, haha!” he forced laughter out as if pushing with brute force, looking at you and jungkook strangely. the question in his eyes read what’s wrong with you two clear as day.

you shrugged and luckily at that very moment, a small family began walking in your direction and approached your booth. on the other hand, jungkook suddenly became fascinated with the infused syrups at hoseok’s table and found the energy to talk his ear off about the ingredients. you missed the way jiwon shot a dirty look at jimin, as if this was his fault.

“why are they acting weird?” jimin whispered to the smaller girl, as if buddies gossiping on the playground.

jiwon only rolled her eyes and huffed, walking away with peanut. she murmured things under her breath about adults being useless, wondering why she had to wake up early all to witness a dumpster fire between you and jungkook. she walked away, muttering to herself something about how she was determined to prove she was the only one with brains around here.

𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @sstrongstyletyle @wobblewobble822@taiwan0618 @seokout @firelcrds @xwniazx @shellyyy177

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lauriegraham01 · 9 months

Text

forever & always | erik lehnsherr

pairings: erik x reader, (cherik x reader if you squint)

summary: it's been years since erik abandoned you on the sands on cuba. when fate - or rather a friend from the future, logan - steps in and forces your paths to cross, what feelings will ensue?

w/c: 2,272

a/n: follows the events shown in days of future past, inspiration drawn from "forever & always" by taylor swift. been working on this one for the past week, apologies for the delay, life can be cruel but the storm only lasts one night.

The brightness of the sun was blinding as its rays bleed through the curtains of your room, shining in your eyes prompting you to wake up with a groan. Reaching out for Charles youre disappointed as you feel nothing but the cold sheets where his side of the bed laid empty. A headache settles in within your head, throbbing unforgivably. As you look over to your nightstand you read your clock.

2:47 p.m. Another day wasted away in bed.

You had gotten little sleep the night before. Scenes of sand plaguing you in your dreams echoing the trauma from all that you've lost.

You're on a beach in a Cuba. You don't know yet that it's the end of the world- the end of your world. Black spots cloud your vision. You're losing too much blood. Footsteps staggered as your breathing comes out labored- trying to make sense of what happened.

Erik.

Charles and you had been caught in the crossfire of his war against humans and now you both were paying the price for it.

"Erik?!" Your voice rings clear in his head. He exhales a shaky breath, one that he can't seem to breathe out enough. Charles laid in his arms paralyzed and betrayed. His heart broken at the pain he's caused and remorse washes over him as he sees the man in his grasp slips further away into a world of unfathomable pain. Leaving Charles within Moira's grasp he then makes his way to you. Discarding his metal helmet in the process.

"Y/N." Erik cautiously places his hands at your side. Taking in how much blood seeped through your suit.

“Erik what’s happened to Charles? Is he alright?" With eyes widened, you wait for him to bring some clarity to the chaos that happening.

“Y/N stop. You’re losing too much blood," Erik said carefully. Looking down he sees your hand pressed to your side. Carefully lifting it, he lets out a sharp gasp as he sees the tear in your suit where the bullet pierced your skin.

A choked cough escapes your lip as a bit of blood rushes through the side of your mouth. You feel your knees buckle underneath you and Erik catches you in time, placing you in his arms as you both sink to the sand.

“Erik?” Your voice rings within his head, even telepathically your voice sounds strained, hurt. “Did you do this?”

"I’m sorry, my love,'" it comes out a whisper. Even without your powers you knew exactly where his mind was at. By the solemn expression on his face and the distant look in his eyes you knew that he was leaving.

"Erik, please," you plead.

"I can't stay here. Look at all that I've caused."

"Erik, don't do this. Stay."

"I cant." He says through gritted teeth, the pain sharp on his tongue like a blade.

"You can. You have a family here, you have people who care and love you- I love you Erik."

His face was taut, twisted in a sea of emotions as he thought of the path that he was walking down- and the love that he would lose in the process.

"This is a war that I have to fight alone. I have to go down a road that you can't follow me on."

"Erik, please." You place a hand on his cheek and he closes his eyes and lets out a heavy sigh. Burning the feel of your touch for what he believes would be the last time.

"I'm sorry my love."

He takes your hand and places a kiss onto it before walking away, fading into view with your heart breaking with every step he takes.

"Charles?" You call to him like a ship lost at sea.

"I'm right here. I'm right here darling." His voice rings out softly in your head. By the labors of his breath you know that he's fighting through his pain. You shiver as you feel a coldness drape over you, slumping further into the sand as exhaustion wins its fight over you.

“I’m scared.”

"Stay with me. We'll make it through this together." Charles voice fades out as your vision fades to black.

It truly was a miracle that you even pulled through at all. Hank managing to save you within an inch of your life. An unpleasant feeling sits deep in your stomach as you try to shake off the scenes replaying in your head. Before the guilt of wasting the day away consumes you, you rise up out of bed and make way for the kitchen. The halls were quiet now, faded were the days where students once roamed freely. When the war in Vietnam began, students and teachers alike were being drafted and many never returned home. Wallowing in his grief, Charles closed the doors to the school.

So you and Hank stayed behind in the mansion. Hank tinkered away on his own plans and research and you remained by Charles side as you both tried to process and move through each others grief. When Hank created a serum that gave Charles the ability to use his legs again you had thought things would get better, but time would reveal how wrong you were. Things ultimately took a turn for the worst, as Charles became dependent on the serum and became an alcoholic, he had turned into a version of himself that you never thought possible. He was short-tempered and full of rage at any given moment. Hank got the worst of it, and at times you thought about leaving but you knew that you wouldn't- Charles knew that you couldn't.

Yet, it would be wrong to put the entire blame on Charles for the way things were. The truth was that you too had turned to your vices to quiet the voices within your own head. Falling in love with little thin white lines and drowning yourself in the bottom of bottles, you too had spiraled into your own world of self-destruction just as Charles had. Your relationship hadn't necessarily been the most stable it's been either. It seemed that you and Charles were constantly at each's others throat nowadays but it wasn't always bad days. Despite the screaming matches, both of us turning to our vices, there was still something tethering us together-whether it be love or a trauma bond was becoming unclear as time passed.

As you enter the kitchen, you note the bottles and needles still littering the kitchen table. Charles must've been up all night-again. Fancying a tea you turn the stove on as you fill a kettle with water. you feel the house rumble just a bit. Looking towards the ceiling you can make out heavy footsteps as though someone were being chased. Just then a yell can be heard following a hard crash. Following the source of the disturbance, you enter the foyer where Charles, Hank, or rather Beast, and a strange man come into view.

"Charles? What's going on here?" Making your way across to the staircase where Charles sat on.

"Nothing darling this gentlemen was just leaving," with a scotch in hand he waves to the strange man.

"Afraid I can't do that because I was sent here for you." Taking a closer look at him you note that he's rather tall. He carries himself confidently, head held high in his brown leather jacket.

"Well tell whoever it was that sent you that I'm...busy," Charles trails off.

"That's gonna be a little tricky because the person who sent me here...was you."

"What?" Charles and I let out simultaneously.

"About fifty years form now. Look I kno-I know, stay with me," he pleads with us.

"Excuse me?" Crossing your hands over your chest you look over to Charles and you both share a puzzling look before facing the stranger in front of you again.

"Fifty years from now like in the future fifty years from now ?" Charles quips.

"Yeah."

"I sent you from the future," Charles asks amused.

"Yes, Charles," he says with a roll of his eyes, growing aggravated by our refusal to believe him.

"Piss off," Charles spits bitterly.

"Charles..." you place a hand on his shoulder.

"If you had your powers you'd know I was telling the truth."

With that you use your powers to enter his mind, not expecting what was awaiting you. Hazed memories of the man you now know is Logan, consumed your senses as you traveled within his world of memories. Fear melted on your tongue as you saw the horrors of the reality that the future held, pain and genocides lurking within every corner and within the midst of it-hope. Hope that the future could be rewritten. Voices and faces so familiar yet so unknown, as though you've known them, a version of them.

Leaving his mind, you stumble as you adapt back to this reality, piecing together the meaning behind Logan's memories. Charles immediately stands up to catch you before you fall.

"y/n?" Charles calls, voice shaky as he holds you. Your breath comes out shaky as you cling to him for support. "Charles he's not CIA." Looking up at Logan he meets your gaze with understanding eyes, grateful that now someone believes him.

"y/n-" Hank calls out doubtfully.

"Hank, I know what I saw," you affirm sternly.

"Are you alright? What are you talking about?" Charles desperately searches your eyes for some kind of clarity.

"I'm fine, Charles. He's not CIA or FBI. I got in his head and I-", the words seem to die on your tongue. How do you explain what you saw without seeming mental? "I saw you...but older. From the future."

You swallow the lump within your throat. Charles furrows his eyes in confusion, not knowing what to make of your revelation.

"Erik too. I saw all of us, together preparing for what I fear may be our doom."

From then you managed to convince Charles and Hank that Logan was indeed telling the truth and that he needed our help in ensuring the survival of mutants. The four of you ventured on the plan that Charles, from the future, had set out. Which led you to where you were right now, on a plane seated next to Charles with Erik in front of you. Breaking him out of the Pentagon had been no easy task, but with the help of a new speedster friend, the lot of you succeeded with somewhat minimal damage in the process.

"y/n I-"

"Shut up," you cut Erik off.

He puffs out a defeated sigh as he looks up at you with those pleading eyes of his. You had imagined what it would be like to see Erik again. You spent the best of years waiting for him to come back, to fix what he had broken. You knew you should've given up when news got out of his attempted assassination of the president, but it was moot. A part of you still loved Erik, a part of you still saw the good in him.

"Look I want to apologize for what I did."

"For what exactly? Cause there's a long list of things left unsaid," Charles shoots back bitterly.

"Charles" you mutter and he backs down. You know how hard this is for him too, seeing Erik. Having him within arms reach yet him being worlds away from the man that you two knew and loved.

"He's right," Erik says sitting upright in his seat, "I did things and people got hurt in the process."

Your eyes look sharp and steady into the empty parts of him, heart heavy with the hatred of his own beliefs and the pain that its inflicted.

“I’m sorry Charles for what happened, I truly am. Not a day passed where I let myself forget it, I never meant to hurt you."

The anger practically radiates off Charles as his leg anxiously bounces even faster. He then climbs up from his seat before storming off passing you and Erik until he disappears from view.

"He'll come around," you mutter.

"I know," Erik sighs. "Charles has a flair for the dramatics."

Your lips betray you as they curl into a small smile. Locking eyes with him you feel the guard you had fought so hard you built to distance yourself from him, rumble threatening to drop into ash.

"I missed you everyday, y/n."

"Erik please-"

"I couldn't escape you even if i tried. You know that better than I do."

"I thought I knew you, now I'm not so sure," you whisper barely loud enough for Erik to register.

Slumping further into his seat, the guilt settles deeper in his bones. He knows he'll never forgive himself for what he did that day on the beach. Yet, sitting here in front of you he wants nothing more than to be able to be loved by you again.

"I couldn't save you.." he croaks. Eyes glossy as tears began to pool his eyes.

"That didn't mean you had to go. Erik, we could've fought through it, together."

“I was too blind to see that I hurt the ones I love. I carry the weight of my crimes every day."

"You don't have to carry it alone." Hesitantly you reach your hand across to grab his. He's still warm to the touch just as you remembered, rubbing smooth circles over his knuckles with your thumbs, you savor the feel of him, having been deprived of it for so long.

"There's still time to make things right."

"I'd like that." Bringing your interlocked hand to his lips he places a kiss on top of your knuckles.

#erik lehnsherr x reader #magneto x reader #magneto imagine #cherik x reader #charles xavier x reader #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #xmen #xmen movies #marvel #xmen fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

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worksby-d · 10 months

Text

What are you gonna do about that?

Pairing: Ari Levinson x girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Ari being the softest boyfriend and asking a v important question.

Warnings: None 🤭

Word count: ~600

҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　

You’ve surely lost track of time by now. Between the serene sounds of the water and the slight breeze rustling the trees and grass, it’s easy to do. You purposely found the quietest part of the beach to ensure you could relax without interruption — Or so you thought.

Although your eyes are closed underneath your sunglasses, you can feel a large shadow approach and cast over you. It feels familiar… The size and the quiet footsteps as it gets closer.

Your inkling is proven right when it speaks – “You look pretty.”

He expected you to jump, but you let out a laugh. You’d know Ari’s voice anywhere, it would never scare you.

“I’m just laying here.”

His eyes continue to wander, taking the sight of you in – Your skin, albeit due to a sheen of sweat, looks like it’s glowing under the midday sun.

“Well, you look pretty laid out in front of me,” he teases.

If your eyes were open, you’d roll them. “Huh, that sounds familiar…” As if he hadn’t said the same thing to you last night in bed.

“Can I lay here?”

Peeking an eye open, you see him pointing to the spot next to you. Patting the sand, you give him a nod.

“It’s too hot for you to touch me,” you warn, closing your eyes again. “I hope that’s not what you’re thinking.”

“Not at all,” he laughs, laying next to you, keeping space between your bodies because he agrees, especially regretting the fact he didn’t come prepared with a towel to lay on instead of the scorching sand.

Nevertheless, he can’t resist being this close to you and not touching you. His hand inches closer to yours, giving himself away when his pinky brushes against yours.

“Can I at least hold your hand?” He whispers.

With an exaggerated sigh, you happily take his hand. “I suppose that’s fine. How was your morning?”

“You know how my morning was,” he smirks, tilting his head to see if he’s gotten you to crack a smile at the thought of how he woke you up this morning and kept you in his bed longer than you had anticipated.

“After that, I mean,” you laugh, flustered thinking back to it.

“Well, you know…” He sighs, recounting the few mundane things he did. Working out, second shower… “Missed you a lot.”

“Whatever,” you chuckle softly, suppressing the huge smile you’d break into otherwise.

“I mean it,” he promises, voice low and serious. You can sense him roll onto his side to face you. He gently rests his hand on your cheek to get you to turn your head and look at him. “I hate watching you leave to go back to your place each morning.”

“Uh-huh,” you hum slowly, following along but forcing yourself to not look excited in case you’re just getting your hopes up. “So, what are you gonna do about that?”

“I’m gonna ask you to move in with me,” he smiles. “Would you wanna move in with me?”

“Really?” You finally let yourself get giddy.

“Yeah, really,” he laughs, leaning down to finally give you the kiss he’s been dying to give you. “So?”

“Of course,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him where he is. “I love you so much.”

“You’re so sweaty,” he teases, cringing as he uses a corner of your towel to wipe your forehead before quickly giving you another kiss, not giving you the chance to call him the three-letter word that was going to follow your gasp. “But I love you, too.”

҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　

Tag list: @patzammit @denisemarieangelina @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @astheskycries @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @la-cey @turtoix @katiew1973 @harrysthiccthighss @tvckerlance @rocketrhap3000 @mrspeacem1nusone @murdcox @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @white-wolf1940 @melchills-j @xoxabs88xox @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @justile @rogersbarber @dilfbarber @livstilinski @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @gitasor @chaeycunty @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403 @raelorns21 @mrsgweasley @pandaxnienke

#ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #ari levinson imagine #ari levinson fanfic #chris evans x y/n

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peterparkersnose · 1 year

Text

It’s Just Paint

pairing: Din Djarin x reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: a bad day of parenting, stress, anxiety, arguing, fluff, SAND

a/n grogu’s art is the future mona lisa. shorter piece, i hope you enjoy. I got this idea from a fan art (that I cannot find to save my life) so if you recognize the art, tag me please! I would love to give credit where it belongs :)

summary Din and Y/N struggle with the parenting lifestyle.

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 4 mins 36 seconds

Home sweet home. If you could call the dingy, falling apart ship home. But home to you were two people; A Mandalorian and a green baby. Sighing, you questioned your life decisions as you began the journey to the ship.

You trudged up the sandy hill Din had parked the crest on, woven bags of groceries hanging from your arms. The calls of the night creatures began to ring, making you walk a bit faster. The suns were setting, and the gorgeous orange sky was very present.

The hatch opened and it was eerily quiet. Grogu wasn’t whining to meet you at the door; Din’s beskar wasn’t clanking around.

“Hellooo?” you sang, your voice echoing down the hallway.

Setting the groceries down on a shelf, you went to see if Din was even home. Maybe a bounty came up unexpectedly. You carefully made your way around a corner when the scent of paint hit you.

Your paint.

“Dank farrik,” you sighed. Grogu had most definitely gotten into your paints you had hidden away. “Din!” you called. No response.

Annoyed, you slammed the button to open your quarters and change out of your sand clothes. The goggles came off, and you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.

Your hair was a mess- covered in sand to say the least. Your white boots had now a tan configuration to them. The robes hit your floor with a thud. Exchanging them for a comfy pair of joggers and a tee, you walked to your sink and tried to get as much sand out of your hair as you could.

When you shut off the water you heard a bump.

So they are home.

As you squeezed out your hair, you heard a faint coo from Grogu.

You anxiously combed back your hair, eager to see your family for the first time today.

The hatch hissed open and revealed a sight. Din was struggling to keep Grogu still; little red painted toes ran across the steel ground of the crest.

“Need some help?” you asked, leaning your hips against the doorframe. You didn’t need to see his face to know what face he was making.

“It would be nice,” he sighed with a slight sarcastic tone, turning around from the sink.

Your eyes grew wide at the sight. Grogu was covered in red, blue, and mixed purple paint. Green paint was smeared on his fingers and on Din’s gloves.

A burst of laughter erupted from you. “Not funny,” he hissed, holding the nude creature awkwardly in his hands. You weren’t laughing at that; no way you were laughing at the wasted expensive paint.

Din had little works of art all over his beskar. Unsure of what, but Grogu had definitely painted a few murals all over him. What looked like Banthas were sloppily drawn over his chest plate; a surprisingly good night sky with what seemed like were orange stars plagued his helmet.

“What happened?” you asked, a hand supporting you on the wall to make sure you didn’t fall over in laughter.

“Grogu was naughty.” Din said, turning his attention back to the baby and plopping him in the sink. Grogu splashed around and whined.

“You fall asleep?” you asked, joining Din at the sink to help keep Grogu in control. No response.

“You fell asleep.”

“Did not.” he resisted. His body art was just proof he was lying. “You are a horrible liar, Din Djarin.”

“And you are a great painter,” you said, scrubbing Grogu’s tiny hands. “Painted all over daddy while he slept.”

Din audibly sighed over the daddy comment. “What do you mean, painted all over me?” he asked, taking his gloves off in defeat.

“Have you looked in the mirror lately?” you scoffed, grabbing a dry kitchen towel to wrap Grogu in.

Din stepped into the fresher. A small gasp came from behind the mask. You heard the hinges of the mask come off and him set it on the countertop.

“Put him down, will you? I need you to come in here.” he yelled from the fresher. Grogu now sat on the kitchen countertop chewing on some grass seeds draped in a kitchen towel.

You picked Grogu up and set him in his floating bassinet.

You entered the fresher to find Din in a panic. His mood was a shock to you. You didn’t expect him to be so upset about a little paint.

“It’s just some paint. It comes out,” you said, trying to calm him. “I just can’t believe- that little shit. Gods Y/N I just don’t know-”

“Din. It’s just paint.”

Your re assuring words weren’t as effective as you hoped. He still had a horrified look on his face and you understood why.

“My armor…” he said in shock, holding his chest plate now in his hands. “It comes out, right?”

“Just told you it did.” you called from the kitchen, collecting his gloves that were full of paint.

Coming back to the fresher, you were met with a defeated Din. His armor was sprawled out on the floor. He was sitting on the corner of the bathtub with his hands on his head.

A saddened sigh came from you. Meeting him at the side, your hand rested on his back and slowly moved back and forth. He slowly leaned his head into your stomach.

“He doesn’t know any better, you know that.” you said, turning and looking at his armor. “I know,” he said solemnly. “It’s just…”

“Hard.”

Din’s tired eyes met yours. “Didn’t sleep well last night?” you asked him, cupping his left cheek. He pressed into your hand and nodded his head. His scruffy face tickled your hand. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the small parenting moment the two of you were having together.

“Go and lay down. I’ll take care of this. If that’s okay,” you offered. Din nodded as your hand left his face. He trudged into the bedroom. You heard the bed creak as he flopped down on it like he always did when he was tired.

An hour and a half later, it was done. His armor looked almost brand new.

All the hard scrubbing, the pile of used paper towels behind you and the steam from the shower was enough to send you into a coma. You were exhausted. Slowly, you cleaned up the mess you made and layed a towel down next to the bathtub. There you left the beskar to dry, and for Din to do what he wishes with it later.

You peek out in the hallway. Grogu was fast asleep as you expected. A little bit of red paint sat on his ear tip, small enough where you could just flick it off. You gave him a small kiss on the forehead and left to go find Din.

He was wrapped up in the burgundy blanket on your bed. His soft hair was laying flat on the bed, his pillow was clutched between his arms. His mouth was squished against the mattress slightly agape.

A smile rose to your face. “Din,” you whispered, slowly making your hands meet and trying to loosen the pillow from his hands.

“No,” he muttered, pulling it closer to him. “I’m here,” you said. His soft brown eyes opened. “Oh,” he muttered, shoving the pillow aside.

You crawled into the bed slowly, trying not to make so much noise. His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you close. He let out a satisfied grunt when the two of you were comfortable. You knew he couldn’t sleep properly without you, or without holding something.

“The pillow really was a lousy excuse for you,”

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jessmaybank · 10 months

Text

Cardigan - Part one; hand under my sweatshirt

Based on the song Cardigan by Taylor Swift

Series Masterlist

Navigation

Paring(s): Rafe Cameron x Fem! Reader.

Word count: 5.2k

Summary: in which coming back from college and seeing him again, ruins everything.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drugs & violence, cheating, SMUT (a little), mentions & implications of public sexual acts, nipple play.

AN: lots of mutual pining, angst, jealousy and everything in between. Ex’s to lovers again. Flashbacks are in italics!

When you are young, they assume you know nothing

But I knew you

The day she had been dreading had finally come. Ever since she left for college, ever since she abandoned the life that was once all she knew, she wondered how it would feel coming back to outer banks. Coming back to the place where it all started.

She left for college about a year ago, eager to escape the harrowing memories of her past, and the people she lost along the way. That’s what she told her family anyway, that she needed a fresh start. That she needed to get away from all the familiar faces who chewed up her kindness and spat it straight back out, again and again, without a second thought. but in reality, the only person she was running away from was her ex boyfriend Rafe.

Her mind had been permanently plagued with memory’s of him since she left, tainted by the deep-seated pain of her first love, and as much as she would love to avoid him forever, summer in obx was something she didn't want to miss, and she missed her family. So, inevitably, she sucked it up and got a flight home.

She wished the memory of him would dissipate into the evening breeze as she sat in her mothers car, watching the horizon pass her by just as quickly as it came as they drove home from the airport. The radio played quietly in the background as she gazed into the golden skyline through the window, and the closer she got to figure eight, the more the memories started flooding back, like a whirlwind reminder of what could have been.

“3, 2, 1, go!” Topper shouts from his seat on the camping chair next to her, the light crackling of the fire filling her ears as the flames devoured the wood that they had gathered.

The beach was littered with drunk teenagers, and numerous crowds of tents to house everyone for the weekend, as part of the annual camping trip which graced the Outer Banks beach every year, to mark the start of summer. This tradition also just happened to be her favourite.

Topper opens his beer as quickly as possible, wasting no time in tipping the liquid down his throat, gulping it down swiftly. Everyone else followed suit in chugging down the beverage, and her eyes screwed shut as she got about half way, the questionable taste making her regret the decision to partake in these games.

As always, Kelce finishes his drink first, scrunching his can in his hands and chucking it into the fire, the smile on his face an indication that he’s clearly impressed with himself. She envied his drinking skills as she gave up, retracting her lips from the can when only about a quarter was left, her face scrunching up as she swallows the last of the liquid in her mouth.

“Has beer always tasted this bad?” She says, not sure if she’s asking herself or her friends around her.

“If your a pussy Y/N, just say that” a male voice taunts, and she didn’t have to turn her head to know who it was.

Rafe made his way towards the group, a backwards baseball cap sitting on his head rather lazily, as the sound of his footsteps trudging in the sand got louder and louder.

She was thankful she was wearing sunglasses as she took in his shirtless state, her jaw threatening to drop as she gawks at her boyfriends washboard abs, the defined muscles practically staring back at her.

He halted his movements as he stood right next to topper, just in time to watch her stick her middle finger up at him, a fake glare hidden behind her sunglasses. The corners of his lips turned upwards into a devious smirk, the sun painting his face in a golden hue, and she had to poke her tongue into the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smiling at him.

“I thought you couldn’t come until later?” She says, reaching to get another beer from the cooler, the condensation from the can running down her fingers, before she extends her arm to pass it to him.

“I’m good at sweet talking” he says smugly, sending her a subtle wink that only she noticed, before taking the beer out of her hand, their fingers touching briefly. She rolled her eyes, even though he couldn’t see it, but it wouldn’t of mattered anyway. All he was concentrating on was the small grin that graced her features, her sweetness practically radiating off her. Rafe couldn’t believe someone as sweet as her would want to be with someone like him.

He thanked her for the beer with a quick peck on the lips, ignoring the gagging noises from Topper at their affections. She had been with Rafe for a while now, and although they had got used to the teasing from their friends, she wondered how much longer they would keep up the act for.

“Debatable. I bet you just didn’t wanna help set up the tents, so you lied about being busy” Topper says, used to his best friends lazy tactics.

“You think so low of me, Top” he says, a cheesy grin on his face as he adjusts his hat, before opening his can. He takes a swig, relishing in the cool liquid which contrasted heavily to the beaming sun which reflected down on them.

“Right, I’m going for a swim before the beach gets too crowded” she says, standing up from her chair and finishing the rest of her beer. She took off her rings that previously decorated her fingers before lifting her shirt over her head, blissfully unaware of the stunned expression on her friend’s faces as they admired her body.

Rafe, on the other hand, was all too aware. His clenched jaw was hard to miss as he slapped Toppers chest, sending both him and Kelce a glare.

“Wait for me” Rafe shouts as he watches her begin to walk down to the shore, almost loosing his balance as he observes her hips swaying from side to side. God, he could get used to that.

“Wait for me” Topper and kelce say at the same time, the mocking tone in their voices evident as they both laugh. And if they weren’t making fun of him, Rafe would of been impressed at how unionised they were. Rafe held his middle finger up, trying his best to maintain a serious look when Topper raised his arms up in surrender, a small smirk painted on his face.

The water was cool when she got in, her muscles relaxing almost immediately. She sighed as she fully submerged herself into the water, swimming deeper into the sea, but her relaxed aura disintegrated when she felt something wrap around her foot. She screamed as she turned around, her fearful expression contorting into a glare as she realised it was just Rafe, clearly trying to fuck with her.

“you make it too easy for me, baby” he laughs, pulling her body towards him, in awe of the freckles which danced along her cheeks, and all the way along her nose. But as her chest was pressed flush against his, she realised just how exhausted he looked, the bags under his eyes making her cringe a little.

“Are you okay?” She asks, concern laced in her voice as she runs a thumb along his slightly sunburnt cheek, just below his eyes.

She knew his dad had been putting him under a lot of pressure recently, and it pained her to see him like this, all tired and deflated. Even though he did his best to hide it from her, she could always tell.

He nodded, melting into her touch as he tilts his head, relishing in the gentle feel of her skin. His eyes shut for just a second as he snakes his arms around her waist, and it was moments like this she realised just how different he acted around her, compared to everyone else. And as much as she wished he wouldn’t put on a front all the time, she was grateful he let her see the real Rafe.

“Nothing I can’t handle baby. I just needed to see you” he says, and she couldn’t help but smile at her boyfriends sweet words, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.

“I can’t believe Topper and Kelce are going to be cock blocking me all weekend” he says, and she rolled her eyes at his vulgar statement, his sweetness evidently short lived.

“Like that’s ever stopped us before” she says, a tight-lipped smile on her face as she tries to hide her smirk.

Rafe had a shit-eating grin on his face as he recalled their past public escapades, reminiscing about the numerous times they indulged in public, even when their friends were too close for comfort. He just couldn’t help it sometimes, and neither could she.

She giggled as he grabbed her thighs, giving them a gentle squeeze before wrapping her legs around his waist. The gentle waves crashing around them drowned out her gasp as she felt his cock press against her clothed pussy, already starting to harden underneath her.

“Well, in that case…” he trails off, his smile never wavering as he takes a quick look around, making sure no one was too close before he tightens his grip on her waist, dipping his head to claim her lips in a harsh kiss.

And as she tangled her fingers into his hair, making him hum into her mouth almost immediately, she knew she wouldn’t be able to resist him.

“Have you thought about the summer camping trip yet sweetie? Seemed like you really enjoyed it last year” Her mother asks, ripping her gaze away from the road ahead, and it was moments like this where she had to question if her mother could read her mind.

She turned her head to meet her mothers gaze, scanning her features as if to look for signs that she was in fact a mind reader. She noticed that she had a certain look in her eyes that she couldn’t quite place, but whatever it was, was tinged with concern.

“Im not sure, i'll think about it” she says, fidgeting with one of the threads on her jumper sleeve, one of the many tells of her anxiety.

“Okay. Oh- I forgot to say, I know you didn’t want to do anything big for your birthday, but I just couldn’t help myself…” her mother starts, and the side eye she gave her was unmissable.

“Oh god. What have you done?” She says, eyes wide with fear. She never really cared for her birthday, and therefore never made a big deal out of it. She hoped this year wasn’t an exception.

“I’ve invited some families around for a small party, nothing crazy. The Thorntons, the Cameron’s, the-“

“The Cameron’s?” She says, her voice raised as she draws in a sharp breath, head snapping to face her mother so fast, she could of got whiplash.

Her eyes were wide as she attempted to register what her mother just said, her muscles tensing with fear as she felt her heart practically sink to her feet. She was going to have to see him again. And as soon as her mother took one look at her daughters face, she knew she had fucked up.

She wanted to blame her mother, but she couldn't really. To her mothers knowledge, there was no hostility towards her and Rafe, and their breakup was mutual. In other words, she has never told her mother the real reason they broke up, or the fact that they don't talk anymore. At the start, it was just too painful, and telling her meant it was actually real. Now, it was like bringing up old news, and she didn't want to revisit the ghosts of her past.

She spent the rest of the journey pleading with her mother to un-invite them, but she wouldn’t budge, claiming it would be too rude to tell them they couldn’t come now, and the damage had already been done. Although she had always had soft spots for Sarah and Wheezie, she knew seeing Rafe again would break her into pieces.

But that didn’t matter now, she thought to herself, eyes trained on the raindrops which had started to trickle down the car window, the moody clouds a reflection of her own dismay. Using her mothers words, the damage had been done, and it was now time to face the music.

I knew you

Hand under my sweatshirt

Baby, kiss it better

She tapped her finger erratically on her leg as she sat on her desk chair in her bedroom, trying drastically to calm her nerves. This was officially the worst birthday ever, and she knew the worst was yet to come.

She finished the last of the wine she stole from her parents cupboards, the alcohol warming her insides as she inhales a deep breath, exhaling slowly, before checking her appearance in the mirror once again, ruffling her hair to give it more volume. She had already changed her outfit multiple times, wanting to make sure she looked good. But no matter how many times she checked her makeup, or fiddled with her hair, nothing felt sufficient.

She practically jumped out of her skin as the sound of the doorbell engulfed the house, her breath hitching in her throat. She sprayed her perfume on herself as her mother called her name, and gave herself a small but reassuring mental pep talk, before making her way down the stairs.

Her shoulders dropped with relief as she saw it was just the Thorntons, and she extended her arms out to embrace Topper as soon as she reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Happy birthday! How is my favourite mai tai drinker?” Topper says as he hugs her, reminding her of the time she threw up after a long night of Mai tai’s and joints at his house; something that seemingly, she has never been able to live down.

“God, don’t remind me” she says, cringing at the memory.

“But that’s what friends are for?” He says, more of a question than a statement. His features held a playful expression, and she realised then she had missed her friends more than she thought.

She greeted Toppers parents, the familiar faces calming her anxiety a little as they all made their way to the garden, the music from the speakers getting louder and louder.

“This looks amazing mum, thank you” she said, a bright smile on her face as she hugs her mother, admiring all the decorations. Although this is definitely not what she wanted to be doing on her birthday, she could tell her mother put in a lot of effort, and she didn’t want to be ungrateful.

“Of course. Happy birthday darling” she says, before retreating in the kitchen to sort out a few things.

Once her mother was out of the sight, she pulled on Toppers arm, dragging him further down the garden, away from his parents “Top, I’m freaking the fuck out”

"what? why?" Topper says, his eyebrows furrowed.

"because, my moms invited-" her blood runs cold as she hears the doorbell again, and just by the look in her eyes, Topper instantly knew what was going on. “Rafe?” He asks. She nodded her head.

Luckily, it was just some old school friends, and she allowed her body to relax once again. She wondered how many mini-heart attacks it would take for Rafe to actually show up.

Her question was left unanswered as an hour past, and the Camerons still hadn't shown up. She didn't know whether she felt relieved or disappointed, but based on the heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach, she definitely felt uneasy.

Despite this, she was actually having a good time. Kelce and the rest of her school friends turned up, and lets just say her mums wine stash was growing lesser by the minute.

"okay everyone, inside for the cake!" her mother yells, and everyone followed her inside promptly, taking a seat on the large dining table. She was just about to offer to help her mum cut the cake, when the doorbell went again. Her eyes shut in defeat, knowing there was only one family that was yet to turn up.

"ah! your just in time for the cake! come in, come in" she could hear her mother mumble from the hallway, and her heart dropped.

Low and behold, the Camerons waltzed into the dining room, and suddenly, she was stone cold sober. Ward was absent, which wasn't exactly unusual. He had missed so many of Rafe's important milestones growing up, so it wasn't a surprise he wasn't interested in hers.

Her eyes grew soft as they met Rafes gaze. He looked pretty much the same, although his hair had grown, and the way his dirty blonde locks fell in front of his face was doing something to her that she couldn't quite explain.

She hadn’t seen him for so long, that the memories she had of him where that of a timid ghost; one that always lingered but never pounced, and never allowed her to fully heal. But as she was standing in front of him now, in the flesh, everything felt so much more real. And it was clear his ghost had come back to haunt her, as vicious as ever.

But as he got closer, and she got a good look at his face, her insides started to twist in the worst way possible. The skin of his cheek was bruised purple, his eye was basically black, and the numerous cuts and scrapes that danced along his skin were accompanied by a cut lip. She bit the inside of her cheek to hold back a gasp, and she was sure everyone else was doing the same.

Rafe's heart skipped a beat as he saw her, his rationality crumbling before his eyes as he glanced at the girl who was once his everything. It was like their whole relationship flashed before his eyes in that very moment, and it was hard for him to breath. He tore his eyes away from her as the overwhelming emotions became too much, finding solace in staring at his feet instead. She wondered then if this was as hard for him as it was for her.

Wheezie was first to approach her, giving her a big hug as she wished her happy birthday, before Sarah and Rose did the same. And then, it was Rafe’s turn.

“Hey” she says, her lips turning upwards into a small smile. God, he had missed her smile.

“Hi. You look nice” he said in a soft voice, hands hidden from her as he fiddled with something in his pockets, a hesitant look in his eyes. It may of been a while, but she still knew the boy inside and out, and just by the deflated look in his blue orbs, she could tell he wasn’t doing well.

“Thanks” she said, giving him a tight lipped smile in response. There was so much she wanted to say. But with so many people around, she couldn’t.

The next twenty minutes were extremely awkward. Rafe didn't say a word to anyone, and you could practically cut through the tension with a knife. Her eyes were glossy as she blew out her candles, and it took everything in her to fake a smile and hold herself together. She had a good poker face, but Rafe could see right through her as he sat across the table, a pit of dread in his stomach as he observed the sadness that lay behind her eyes. He poked and prodded at his untouched piece of cake as he matched her dull expression, before Sarah decided to break the silence.

"so Y/N, hows college? are the people nice?"

"um, yeah" she says, swirling her fork around her plate. She really wasn't in the mood to elaborate.

"she's made lots of friends, haven't you sweetie? she even has a new-"

"mom" she says, more as a warning, looking up from her plate now.

"what? as i was saying, she as a new boyfriend" her mother says, as oblivious as ever, pausing to take a sip from her wine glass.

her eyes shut in defeat for a second, but she didnt miss the way Rafe's eyes snapped up, his jaw clenching at the revelation. she's moved on.

it was true, she had a new boyfriend. The relationship was new, but he was sweet. She would be lying if she said he made her feel the things Rafe did, though.

"oh, thats wonderful! whats he like?" Toppers mum says, blissfully unaware of the chaos she was provoking.

"um-" she was cut off with a clang before she could even start her sentence, everyones eyes darting to Rafe as the sound of him dropping his fork on his plate fills the room, his fists balled on the table.

"excuse me" Rafe says, not waiting for a response before he jumps up, storming out of the room without so much as a glance. She mumbles a quick "fuck" under her breath, her guilty conscience getting the best of her when she too sprang up, following him out of the room without giving it too much thought.

She walked down the hallway and into the kitchen, her movements coming to a halt when she spotted him outside, staring at him through the glass doors that led to the garden. She grabbed a random sweatshirt from one of the kitchen stools, and took a deep breath before heading outside.

He didn't look at her as she walked out, but he knew she was there. instead, he gazed at the pool in front of him. "new boyfriend, huh?" he says, shoving his hands in his pockets, his jaw still clenched.

"Yeah well, atleast he can actually look me in the eyes" she says, folding her arms over her chest. He took that as a dig, and turned to look at her then, his adams apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. It was painfully obvious he was still in love with her, hell, he probably always would be. But who could blame him? It was the kind of love you only saw in the movies, the same kind of love Rafe never believed in, until he met her.

"what happened to your face?" she says weakly, just above a whisper, as if it pained her to say it.

he opened his mouth and then closed it again, like a gulping fish, debating whether to tell her the truth or not. His mouth opened once again, ready to speak before his eyes trailed down to her sweatshirt. And just like that, he froze.

“You kept it” he says, and her eyes followed his, peering down at her sweatshirt before she too froze. Holy shit, she forgot it was his.

She walked with Sarah out into the garden at the Cameron house, taking a sip of her vodka orange as she walked past Rafe to the sun beds. He was watering the plants, no doubt a chore his dad asked him to do before he left the house this morning. But given his shirtless state, she definitely wasn’t complaining.

They had just started seeing each other, but they hadn’t told anyone yet, not wanting to deal with the agro from their friends. But again, she wasn’t complaining. As it turns out, sneaking around was a lot of fun.

“Have you no shame? Uncle Reggie doesn’t even drink this early” Rafe taunts, referring to his alcoholic relative Reggie, who had a reputation for always ruining family events.

“Debatable. I once saw him use tequila instead of milk in his cereal” Sarah says.

“Bite me, Cameron” she claps back at Rafe, smiling sweetly at him before perching on the sun bed.

I’d love to, he thought, but he bit his tongue at the presence of his sister. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her summer dress, the flimsy material just daring to be pulled down her body as he glanced at the flirtatious look that danced in her eyes.

“That’s a dangerous thing to say to a man with a hose” he threatens, his signature smirk gracing his cherry red lips. She wasn’t sure she could get used to his smile even if she tried.

“You wouldn’t dare” she says, confident in her words as she laid back in the chair with her eyes closed, letting the sun drench her skin.

“Wouldn’t i?”

her eyes shot open as she felt cold water being sprayed all over her body, a loud scream leaving her lips.

“Holy shit!” She screams, springing up from the chair to run away from him, a breathy laugh leaving her lips. He stopped eventually, once he had his fun, but the amused look on his face turned into a stunned expression, his mouth agape as he noticed the way her dress had become somewhat transparent.

“Perv!” Sarah says to her brother, eyeing the way he was shamelessly staring at her wet figure. She mentally cursed him then for his lack of control, he didn’t even try to hide it.

She went inside to change, grabbing the first thing she saw in the laundry room, which happened to be a pair of sweatpants and a blue sweatshirt. It wasn’t the most flattering outfit in the world, but it would do. When she opened the door to make her way back into the garden, she found Rafe on the other side of it.

“Scale of 1 to 10?” He says, a cheeky look on his face.

Whenever they would bicker or annoy each other, they would always ask the other to rate their rage in a scale of 1 to 10, as a way of gaging whether the disagreement was serious or not.

“A strong 9. I’m plotting my revenge as we speak” she says, a smile painting her face that made all of his defences crumble. He let out a genuine chuckle at her remark

“Your wearing my sweatshirt” he observes, a cheesy grin on his face as he raises his eyebrows.

At this point, their secret relationship was lacking a label, and she wasn’t sure if they were at the clothes-wearing stage yet. “Oh, sorry. I’ll take it off” she says, her voice weak. She went to lift the material over her head when he stopped her.

“No, no, keep it. You look good in it” he says, wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling her closer.

“Plus…I want you wearing it when I do this” he says, guiding her backwards into the laundry room and shutting the door with his foot. She giggled as he began peppering sweet kisses on her neck, and her hands immediately clung to his hair, relishing in the feel of his soft lips. He just couldn’t help but smirk into her skin as her breathing got heavier and heavier, and it dawned on him then that, label or not, he was hers. “Your smooth Cameron, I’ll give you that”

“Of course I kept it” she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. And to her, it was.

His features softened at her words, and he came to the realisation then that maybe, just maybe, all hope wasn’t lost. He tried to stop himself from stepping towards her, but he just couldn’t. And as soon as the smell of her perfume invaded his senses, he knew he was a goner.

“Does your boyfriend touch you like I did?” He asks, his voice low as he dips his head to hers, eyes focused on her glossy lips. One wrong move, and his lips would be on hers.

She couldn’t deny the way her insides melted as her eyes widened slightly, a certain intensity laying behind his eyes that made all of the blood rush to her head. The lust within his blown out pupils only added fuel to the fire as he brought his hands up to her thighs, tracing his fingers upwards along her skin, before his hands reached under the hem of her sweatshirt.

Her breath hitched in her throat as his hands dipped under the material, roaming around her bare hips, pulling her closer to him, if that was even possible. One hand then settled on the small of her back, whilst the other creeped up to her clothed breast. He swiped his thumb over her hardened nipple, and as she let out a small whimper, he had to bite his lip to suppress a smirk.

“I-“ her words turned into mush as he pushed the top of her dress aside, making her jerk against him as he pinches her nipple. The cold metal of his rings cooled down her burning skin as he touched her breast, and she felt like her knees were going to give way at any moment.

“I bet he doesn’t” he whispers in her ear, taunting her even further, even though based on her reaction, he already knew her answer. She could feel his smirk when he placed a kiss on her head, his familiar after shave making her question why they even broke up in the first place. She knew then that she was screwed.

The sound of the garden door opening snapped her out of her blissful trance, and she pulled away from him, ignoring every urge in her body that wanted to pull him close again. The loss of her warmth almost made him frown as the distance between them increased, and when he saw topper standing at the top of the garden, he never wanted to punch his best friend more.

“Uh, your mum wanted me to check if everything is alright” Topper says awkwardly, scratching the back of his head as he tried to ignore what he just walked in on.

“Yeah, um, we should probably head back in” she says, refusing to meet Rafe’s eyes as she turns on her feet, making her way back inside.

“Top, give us a minute” Rafe says, and she halts her movements, turning back around to face him. Topper nodded his head swiftly before treating back indoors.

“I just- I got you this. Happy birthday” he says, walking over to her, before pulling out a small box in his pocket. It was wrapped in blue wrapping paper, finished off with a small white ribbon, and she couldn’t help the wide smile that escaped her lips. He got her a present.

“Oh. Thank you” she said, taking the box out of his hand. Their fingers brushed briefly, and she couldn’t ignore the butterflies she felt in her stomach.

“We should…” she starts, gesturing her hand towards the house.

“Oh. Yeah” he says, his voice somewhat shaky. It was strange how he could go from dominant to a nervous reck in the space of a few seconds. He hated what she turned him into. She was the only one that could break his defences by the click of a finger, and it was terrifying.

He wanted to grab her hand, or yell for her to stay, but he didn’t. Instead, he waltzed back up the garden steps behind her, before entering the dining room again with one question on his mind.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how much did you miss me?

#obx #outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #drew starkey #rafe cameron imagine #rafe x y/n #rafe x female!mc #rafe smut #rafe obx #rafe x reader

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the-broken-truth · 5 months

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The Prince's Precious Brother [1] - Leona Kingscholar [Platonic Yandere] [Male Yuu]

Summary: Sixteen years ago, Leona experienced a tragic loss that changed him forever. His newborn brother, Feore Kingscholar, was taken away and declared dead, causing him immense pain that he carried with him throughout his entire life. However, everything changed when he arrived at Night Raven College and met Yuu Arisugawa - The Prefect of Ramshackle Dorm. During Crewel's Class, a secret was revealed, and Leona decided to reclaim what was rightfully his. He was determined to do it at any cost, and no one would be able to stop him without facing the consequences.

[Savanaclaw Dormitory - Leona's Dorm - Before Classes]

The sound of a crying infant, yelling voices, and horses going wild, along with hooves faded into the distance in Leona's ears causing them to lay flat on the surface of his head as his fists gripped the blanket covering his body, his eyes tight as the vivid images appeared under his closed eyelids, his eyebrows twitched with every single negative emotion that filled his heart as a cold sweat stained his dark skin; his teeth were locked in a snarl as a growling whimper escaped through his locked teeth, tears leaking through the small cracks of his eyes as he twitched and turned his head against his pillow as his body attempted to get comfortable.

"No... No... Don't do this... Don't leave me... Don't take him away from me!" Leona whimpered as the tears flowed down his face, his heart was pounding against his chest as a vivid image flashed in his subconscious: 2 Horses running along the desert of the Afterglow Savana with 2 cloaked figures riding upon their backs, one of the figures carrying a small bundle wrapped in a white blanket; the bundle crying its lungs out as it faded away into the desert night. A small hand reached out for the horse but they were too far away and getting further with every passing second.

"Don't leave me!" His 4-year-old voice cried out as tears flowed from his green eyes as they mixed into the sand of his homeland. "DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE!!! YOU'RE ALL I HAVE!!! COME BACK...!"

"FEORE!!!" Leona roared out in sorrow as his eyes shot open and his hands shot up toward the ceiling as if he were back at that moment in time; the tears finally leaking upon the pillow under his head as the slow realization of what was going on slowly started to become clear.

A Dream.

Just a dream.

Leona lowered his hand and placed it on his chest as he attempted to calm his panicked heart; memories could hold some of the best moments in your lives and you would want to relive them as much as you can, however, there are also the moments were the worse pains that scar your brain. This was the case for Leona Kingscholar - The Second Prince of the Sunset Savana. He turned his head to look at the calendar on his wall, the date caused his heart to break once again.

June 7th

'No wonder these memories are starting to plague me now... It's his birthday and the day he was taken away from me.' Leona thought as he placed his hand over his face, he sat up in his bed while looking through the cracks of his fingers, 'What happened to you, My Darling Brother?' Leona closed his eyes as the memories flowed through his mind back to that moment in his life: On this day 16 years ago - the day the Second Prince's Heart Grew Cold.

A 4-year-old Leona Kingscholar stood in the doorway with his elder brother, Falena, while their father spoke to their mother, who was currently sitting on her bed with a small bundle in her arms as she and her husband smiled at it. The mother looked in the direction of the boys and gestured for them to come into the room, Leona was the first to enter and looked at the bundle in his mother's arms: The child looked just like Leona did when he was younger but the tips of his hair had white tips; The King once told Leona and Falena that one of the past kings possessed a vast amount of magi and could use it without a wand had a head of snow white hair with blue tips. Leona looked down at the infant and wondered if his new brother would have the same amount of vast power his ancestor possessed; the thought of the two of them fighting together to protect their kingdom filled him with joy.

However, that happiness and joy were shattered throughout the kingdom when the shadows consumed the land and the full moon rose.

Leona was finding it hard to sleep, he was too happy; he was an elder brother, and he finally had someone to look up to him, someone who would see his worth better than his brother, parents, or kingdom ever could. He wanted to be near Feore and left his room before walking down the hall to reach Feore's Nursery when the cries of the infant caused him to pick up his pace until he opened the door to his brother's room, his heart froze and anger filled his veins at the sight before him.

There were 2 figures, sporting all-black garments and concealed by masks, and the larger of the figures was holding the crying 3rd Prince in his large hands.

"Get your hands off my brother!" The 4-year-old prince roared as he pulled his dagger from behind his back and charged at the men who held his brother captive. He pounced on the smaller figure and started jabbing his dagger downward but the figure was using his arm to protect his face; Leona only managed to cut his arm and left a few deep wounds that would later become scars before the larger man used his free hand, grabbed Leona by the back of his nightshirt and flung him across the room until he crashed into Feore's Dresser by the door. Leona groaned as pain radiated throughout his back while the men attempted to leave through the window with the small child, however, Leona wasn't gonna let them get away with what belonged to him.

Leona rose to his feet just as the guards entered the room to see the men jumping over the ledge with Feore, Leona roared the order to find them and get Feore back while he ran in the same direction and went over the ledge in hot pursuit; he didn't care about the fall damage, all he wanted was his brother back.

Leona ran after them until they reached the gates of the kingdom where two horses were waiting for them, they mounted the horses and attempted to ride away but Leona lunged at the larger man and started clawing at his face in order to get his mask off, but it wasn't coming off, then he tried to reach for his crying brother but was grabbed by the man's large hand and pushed away from the infant. Leona hissed in anger as he was thrown off of the moving horse and landed in the sand as the horses got further and further away.

Feore got further and further away.

Leona tried to get up and follow them but the fall twisted his angle, all he could do was kneel there and hold his hand out with tears in his eyes as the horse and men who had his brother disappeared into the darkness; never to be seen again.

The King of the Sunset Savana declared Feore Kingscholar, 3rd Prince of the Sunset Savana, dead one week after the search parties failed to find anything about his whereabouts or anything regarding the man who took him; all they had was the blood on Leona's Dagger and that was little to no help at all. Leona wasn't the same after his father declared his younger brother dead so easily and his heart grew cold and distant. When he wasn't studying or training, he was in Feore's Nursery until his father had the servants toss out everything in the room to free up the space; the only thing Leona was able to save was a small lion plushie that he had gifted his brother on the day of his birth - it was the only thing he had of Feore.

Leona looked at the small plushie in his massive hand before placing a small kiss on its forehead; wishing his younger brother a happy birthday wherever he might be; he knew he wasn't going to be able to sleep, so he decided to go to his classes. I knew he had Crewel's Class with the Herbivore and his friends; something interesting might happen that would take his mind off of everything. He placed the plushie on his bed before getting up and getting dressed before Ruggie decided to burst into his room and brother him; he was not in the mood for the Hyena's Antics this morning.

[In Crewel's Class]

Leona couldn't be any more uninterested in the things the teacher was talking about; he thought coming here would help him take his mind off his brother but it was only making it harder to stay away. Leona's keen hearing picked up on the sound of the Herbivore grunting in pain and irritation while the cat who went by the name Grim scratched at the boy's right side of his upper back. The boy was clearly trying to be quiet with it but Crewel picked upon it.

"Mr. Arisugawa! Is there a reason you are scratching your back like a pup with fleas while I am attempting to teach my class?" Crewel asked, causing everyone to look in Yuu's Direction.

"Please, forgive me, Mr. Crewel; I'm not trying to be a disturbance but I cannot help it, my birthmark is giving me a very hard time on this day." Yuu said.

"Your birthmark is giving you a hard time? What are you talking about, Puppy?" Crewell asked.

"It has been itching and burning ever since I woke up this morning; which is strange because it never bothered me this much before. It literally feels like it's on fire right now and I can't get it to stop no matter what I do." Yuu explained.

"Show me this birthmark of yours, Puppy." Crewel said.

Yuu rose from his seat and walked over to Crewel before turning his back to him and lifting the back of his shirt to show his teacher the marking on his back; the teacher looked confused before a small smirk appeared on his face.

"I see your issue, Puppy; this is not a birthmark, this is a containment seal." Crewel said, causing everyone in the class to look interested.

"What is a Containment Seal, sir?" Yuu asked.

"A Containment Seal - also known as a Concealment Seal - is a marking that is used to hide something about the person it is imprinted on; it could be used to seal someone's magic or true appearance away, those are the two most common ways they are used. From the looks of the glow, whatever is within this seal is trying to force its way out and that is what is causing your aggravation." Crewel explained.

"Does this mean there is a possibility that Yuu is actually from this world and possesses magic of his own?" Riddle asked from his seat; this caused Leona to raise an eyebrow with interest. There was more to his Herbivore than he knew?

"There could be a possibility but I must know something, Mr. Arisugawa. You claimed this seal hasn't been bothering you, it only started today and it was giving you pain; is there anything special about today that would cause this?" Crewel asked Yuu, who thought for a while before answering.

"Well, today happens to be my birthday." Yuu answered & Leona's ears perked up at the sound of this: This Herbivore had the same birthday as Feore and could have magic sealed away in his body. What the hell was going on?

"Happy Birthday, Puppy. Now, we need to undo this seal and see what is under it if we want to stop your pain. Remove your shirt and sit on the stool while I get a Reveal Elixir." Crewel said as he walked over to his cabinet and searched through his potions until he came back with a small vial containing a glowing blue liquid; Yuu removed his shirt and sat on one of the high stools with his back turned to the class. "Now, there is a chance this will burn even more but I need you to be a brave puppy for me and bear with me for a moment."

"Yes, Sir." Yuu said before he placed his hands on his knees and closed his eyes. Crewel opened the vial and poured the liquid directly on the seal and the effect was instantaneous. Yuu roared in pain as the seal started to melt into the ink that was used to craft it and flowed down his back but the pain was coming from within as a white magical aura surrounded him and he fell to his knees as the magic started taking over him. Soon enough, the magi swirled around him to the point he was no longer visible; everyone covered their faces as the winds coming from the magic attempted to blow them all away before the magic died down and flowed away and Yuu stood up, completely different.

He was no longer human. He was a Beastman - A Lion Beastman! What was more, he looked just like Leona, just shorter with shorter hair and blue eyes; not to mention the white tips on his hair. Yuu looked at his new form as his fingers were ignited with white magical family; everyone started asking questions as to what the hell was going on but Leona slowly stood from his chair and walked over to Yuu, looking at the boy with tear-filled green eyes.

"Senpai? Are you alright?" Yuu asked; he didn't get an instant answer but an answer nonethelss as Loena lunged at him and wrapped his arms around him, shocking everyone in the room, "Leona-senpai, what are you doing?!"

"It's you... It's really you... Everyone thought you were killed that night, but I knew better; I knew that I was going to find you one day and now I finally have. It's been so long and we've been apart for so long but all of that is going to change; Big Brother is here for you now, Feore." Leona sobbed, causing the students, Crewel, and Yuu to have the same reaction.

"WHAT?! I'M/YUU'S/MR. ARISUGAWA IS A KINGSCHOLAR?!!!"

#twisted wonderland #yandere leona kingscholar #platonic yandere #magic yuu #beastman yuu #yandere

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