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celestie0 · 3 months

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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.8 a little cottage on the countryside

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 8/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 13.5k (...i'm gonna go take a nap lol)

a/n. hello hellooo my dear kickoff readers, hope you're having a nice day so far! this is the longest chapter yet, so i hope you enjoy <3 it's also got one of my favorite tropes everrr hehehehe you could probs guess what it is halfway through. see you at the bottom and happy reading! sorry if there are typos i didn't proofread this one as much as the others haha

nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 :: ch7 :: ch8 :: ch9 :: ch10 (pending)

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

You don’t cry much these days, but when you do, it’s usually out of nowhere.

Like now, as you stand in the school’s photo lab, developing the shots that you took for UTokyo’s game against Osaka last week, and you have to swipe at the tears on your cheek threatening to fall all over the captured images of grass, benches, nets, banners, stands, and him.

One of the photographs catches your eye, and you pick it up from the table. It’s a candid moment you took of Gojo on the field right before you confessed to him. You had spotted him first while the team was doing their warm-up, and you thought he looked nice from the way he had that concentrated look on his face that you’ve learned to love. But right before you clicked the shutter, he had turned away, chasing after the ball, and so all you could capture was his back facing you as he looked off ahead into the distance. You wondered if that was how it’s always been this whole time–with you looking at him while he’s looking off at something else. It was a depressing thought, but your mind had a tendency for sadness since that day.

The sound of the photo lab door opening jolts you back to reality, and you quickly straighten your posture and wipe your cheek with your sleeve, trying to sniffle as discreetly as possible, then set the picture down. Your fellow film major greets you quietly, asking if you’re still using the developer liquid, to which you say no, then hand it over to them. You stuff your photographs into a folder and head out the door.

You make it across campus to the Film & Media Studies building, then up to the third floor where your professor's office is. His door was ajar, but you still knocked before entering.

He looks up from the photographs he was grading. “Oh, y/n, hello. How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you, yourself?” you ask, taking a seat on the chair that was fixed to face his desk. You pull your tote bag into your lap.

“Great, thanks. How can I help you?”

You slide the folder to him over the scraped, worn burgundy wood of his desk. “I still had to turn in my photos for the assignment due last week. I appreciate the extension.”

“Ah, right,” he says, taking the folder from you. “I’ll get around to grading them. I’m curious, what did you end up choosing for your subject matter?” He tucks the folder underneath the pile that was to his side.

“I took photos of the soccer team’s game against Osaka Uni on Thursday last week,” you tell him.

He frowns at you. “Film cameras don’t have that level of zoom, though. I do hope you followed the rubric guidelines for central object to frame ratio, otherwise I’ll have to take off points.”

“Oh– I did. I took the photos from the sidelines,” you tell him, panicking already.

His eyes widened. “From the sidelines? On the field?”

You nod at him, fidgeting with your bag in your lap.

“Wow, I can’t say I’ve ever had a student take photos like that before. That’s pretty challenging to pull off, though,” he says, sitting up straighter, “...you mind if I take a look at them right now?”

You shake your head. “Oh, no. Not at all.”

He pulls your folder out from the bottom of the pile, then gently slips the photos out of them, rearranging them all across his desk. He leans down closer to study some of them, tilting his head curiously at others, furrowing his brow in concentration to a select few. “These are incredible.”

You take in a deep breath. “Thank you, professor.”

He nods at you with acknowledgement, and you watch him as he studies the images quietly for another minute, then looks up at you. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” he asks when he notices you’re still seated.

“Ah…yes, there was something I wanted to ask you.”

“What is it?” He taps his pen on the desk.

“I was wondering if you could write me a letter of recommendation for the film graduate program.”

He nods, like he was expecting the question. “Yeah, of course. Just send me your resume and portfolio.” He taps eagerly on one of your images. “Please send me digitals for these, too.”

You let out a relieved exhale. “Yes, I will. Thank you so much, professor, I really appreciate it.”

You left the building feeling extremely relieved about your professor agreeing to write your recommendation, but also feeling sad because you couldn’t tell Gojo about it, since this was the full-circle moment for the little arrangement the two of you had. There’s a thought that considers texting him, and you take out your phone then go to his name, but your thumbs just can’t bring yourself to send him a message.

The days of the week go by in a blur, and between every single little moment in life, your mind always wanders to him. It’s hard to get over someone when you’re surrounded by them. Like late at night while you’re editing the digitals of the game last week to send to your professor, and you find yourself staring at the pictures you’ve taken of him. It’s hard to get over him when the school worships the soccer team and you’re forced to see promotional banners and posters all over campus with his stupidly beautiful face in them. You didn’t have the heart to block him on Instagram, because you remember that time he teased you about how you didn’t follow him back, and you wonder if it would make him sad if you blocked him, so you just resorted to deleting the app instead. And although you were the one that asked for space from him, you were growing increasingly annoyed at how good he seemed to be at keeping it.

The library wasn’t even much of a safe space either, since you overheard a group of girls the other day at a table arguing about which of the players on the team is the hottest, and so you find yourself doing your homework on a lovely Wednesday morning at your apartment instead.

You lean back in your chair and look up at the ceiling, and then jump when you hear your phone ring, quickly turning it over to read the caller ID. Nobara. You accept the call, placing her on speaker, then set your phone back down on your desk.

“Hey, Nobie, what’s up?”

“Hey, nothing much. Just wanted to ask if you wanted to hang out,” she says.

“Oh, I would love to, but I’m working on homework right now. It’s due in a couple of hours,” you sigh.

“Boo, you whore. For what class?”

“My stats 130 elective,” you say. “I’m a film major, why do I need to know statistics?” You tap your pen to your chin. “Actually, it might be valid.”

“Is that the class with the creepy professor?” she asks. “The one that got caught with a PornHub tab open while he was presenting his lecture slides.”

“Yeah.”

“I took his class last semester! I still have all my homework for it,” she exclaims on the other end, “do you want me to send it over?”

“Yes, omg, I could kiss you right now,” you groan, resting your head on your arm sprawled across your desk in exhaustion.

“So definite no to hang out?”

“Sorry, I’ll reach out later though,” you sigh, “also, my car is still in repair…apparently something came up with the engine. So we can’t go far unless we invite Mina.”

“That’s fine, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to come if we invite her just to chauffeur,” she says sarcastically. “By the way, how’d the pictures come along? For the newsletter?”

You lift your head up off of the desk in a panic. Shit. You were so focused on turning in your digitals of the game to your professor that you totally forgot you were supposed to send them to Utahime as well. “Oh my god, I forgot. When do they finalize the release again?”

“Isn’t it today at noon? I sent over film club’s photos this morning,” she says.

You glance at the time. 11:56am.

“Nobara, I’ve gotta go. I need to call Utahime, sorry,” you say. She acknowledges you, telling you to hurry, and then you hang up.

You call Utahime and scribble down on a sticky note to paste on your wall as a reminder to buy her a loving gift basket one of these days because of course she extends the release deadline just for you. You finish touching up the digitals and then send them to her via email, and after you finish your statistics homework, she calls you again to meet up somewhere nearby.

“Thanks so much for coming here,” Utahime says as she sits across from you at one of the local cafes you frequent. “Also, this chai latte is so good, I’m honestly surprised.”

You nod at her. “This place has great drinks.” You slide a folder across the table to her and she sets her drink down to accept it.

“Sorry if it was a hassle, but I just had to ask for physicals of these photos,” she sighs as she pulls them out. “They’re amazing, seriously, I gasped when I saw them. I’m used to sifting through a lot of professional sports photos for the newsletter, for all of the teams on campus, but I’ve never seen photos as charming as these. It could be the film photography aspect, since most of the ones I see are digital, but I’m seriously shocked you could capture shots like this at a rowdy men’s soccer match.”

You’re shaking your head at her. “Please don’t compliment me so much, I’ll cry. And it’s no issue, I had a spare set of physicals from when I developed them. You can keep them.”

She smiles at you. “Okay, well then, I think it goes without saying that I’ll definitely be including them for the sports recap this week. I’ll send you the money soon, too.”

You clap your hands together and interlock your fingers. “I’m. So. Grateful. For. You.”

She laughs across from you and takes another sip of her latte before sitting back slightly, glancing at the photos spread across the table. “Hm…how busy are you for the rest of the semester?”

You tilt your head at her and bring your coffee to your lips, taking a sip before setting it back down. “Not terribly busy, I quit my job last month so I’m just taking my assignments as they come and go.”

Utahime nods at you, a thoughtful expression on her face, and she smooths down the fabric of her shirt. “Okay, well, I got an email from the school this morning that one of the newsletter photographers for the men’s soccer team is moving to a different city, so they’re looking to fill in the position as soon as possible and they asked if I knew anyone,” she mentions, resting her elbow on the table and then placing her hand on her cheek. “They usually only hire professionals, but if I put a word in for you, they’d probably offer it to you.”

Your eyes widen at her from across the table, heart beating a bit faster in your chest.

“They pay really well for a part-time job. It’s essentially full-time pay for part-time hours,” she continues, “but it’s probably because you’ll have to travel with the team to their away games, including unofficial matches and conferences. If you’re not that busy for the next two months, then I think it’d be a good opportunity for you to build experience.”

You purse your lips together, considering her words. Although it’s a bit different from your long-term career plans, it was still a great way to get experience before graduate school. And besides, you needed the money, considering you quit your job last month and your savings were starting to run thin–never mind the fact that your car repair bill went from a few thousand yen to somewhere in the tens-of-thousands. And you would prefer to still be able to afford rent. Oh, and eat. Possibly still pay for Netflix.

But then there was the fact that having that kind of job meant that you would be spending a lot of time with the soccer team, and therefore increases the chances of running into Gojo. And you’re supposed to be staying away from him to get over your feelings.

“It sounds like an amazing opportunity, really,” you start, “...but I can’t.”

Utahime frowns at you and sits up straight. “Really? I thought you’d be excited. Why not?”

You sigh. “It’s complicated.”

“y/n…” Utahime starts, “I don’t really know what’s going on in your head right now, but isn’t this your dream? For your work to reach people? I know it’s only a stepping stone, believe me I know very well the path to becoming any sort of artist is an uphill battle of hell, but I’ve known you for a while now. And I know how much your dreams mean to you, and how hard you’re willing to work for them.”

Your heart swells in our chest at Utahime’s words. She was right, and you were starting to get really sick of letting your fears hold you back from what you really wanted in life. “...you’re right, I’m sorry. I’d love to be considered for the position, if you could recommend me.”

She smiles and nods at you. “Will do.”

–

The email for the job offer comes surprisingly fast, and you quickly read through it before accepting. It wasn’t a horrible time commitment, given you’d only have to take pictures during active play during matches, give or take a couple hours before, and the photographers rotate between who takes up each of the conferences so the work was split up. You were able to meet a few of the newsletter photographers & journalists during the game last week, so you already knew some of them. The offer letter came attached with a full calendar of the soccer team’s practice schedule, official match schedule, unofficial match schedule, conference schedule, and other publicity schedule, and you’re shocked at how busy all the players must be. The fact that they still have time to be students–and for most of them, active participants in fraternities–was honestly beyond you.

It seemed like they only had four more official matches left, two being away matches, along with a couple of unofficial matches that they may or may not participate in depending on how the season goes for them.

Their next game was on Friday against Kyoto university, and you were scheduled to shoot for their sports conference the day following as well. So you find yourself on a train embarked for the countryside, and you peer out of the window with a nervous feeling in your stomach. The sparkling skyscrapers and bustling crowds of Tokyo gradually started to give way into sights of expansive lush greenery, picturesque and charming towns, and winding rivers surrounded by trees. The closer you got to Kyoto, the sky became more gray until a steady drizzle began to fall against the train window. When you reached the final station, the rain had dissipated, and the taxi ride to the hotel was only about fifteen minutes. The journey felt exhausting, and you were so incredibly ready to pass out in a comfy bed.

You stood underneath a small sidewalk roof near the vending machines lining the outside of the hotel, trying to keep your bag and suitcase with all your equipment in it dry from the remnant soft mist of rain still lingering in the air.

“Hey, Utahime, sorry to bother you so late,” you say, holding your phone between your shoulder and ear, “but is it the Hilton on 3rd street? Or on Main? Because if it’s the one on Main, then I may have messed up-”

You stop speaking when you hear a masculine voice down the road towards the left, echoing off of the lined up small shops along the sidewalk, and your heart could have recognized the sound anywhere. You’re swift to turn and face that direction, almost dropping your phone in the process, and you see him– the object of all your suffering lately.

Gojo stood there, wide-eyed and stopped completely in his tracks as the recognition of you under the dim street lighting flashes across his face. He’s in pajamas– a red long-sleeve cotton shirt that looks so stupidly soft and comfortable it almost makes you emotional, with some matching checkered red pants. It was the most casual clothing you’ve ever seen him in. His hair appears damp, slightly tousled, from what you could assume was an effort to dry it off fast. And he had crocs on. In sports mode. You make a mental note to ask him about his charms and if he’s willing to trade any of them with you. But maybe some other day. When it doesn’t hurt to think about him.

“y/n?” he calls your name out, astonished. He’s looking at you like he’s just seen a ghost but in the best way possible.

You blink at him, heart skipping a beat just from the mere sight of him, and when you hear Utahime’s voice on the line you’re shaken out of your trance. “Oh, sorry, I’m still here. I…I think I just had my question answered. Thank you, have a good night.” You pull your phone down, gaze lingering on your screen for way too long because you can’t brave yourself to look over at the man to your left, and you end the call.

There’s the sound of remnant puddles of water splashing as he takes a few steps closer to you, and you can see his reflection in the water of the one in front of you. The expression on his face matches the one that was there when you last saw him outside of the UTokyo stadium at the west side exit. It’s an expression you could still see every time you close your eyes.

Finally turning to face him, you purse your lips together. “Hi.”

“Hey, what are you doing here?” he asks, voice laced with confusion and you see him take in your appearance with eager flicks of his gaze all around, like he couldn’t believe you were standing in front of him right now.

“Satoru!” another familiar voice calls out. “Did you get the orange-flavored ones too? Choso’s a fucking idiot and got the grape ones instead. I hate those. They taste like medicine. And ass. Not that I would know what–” You see Geto emerge from the darkness to Gojo’s side, and now he’s looking at you with a surprised look too. “Oh, it’s y/n. What are you doing here?”

“Hey, you two,” you chirp, trying to act as if an entire world of awkwardness wasn’t being exchanged between you and Gojo right now, for the sake of hoping that Geto wasn’t a very good judge of energy. “I’m here to take pictures of the soccer team.”

Your eyes flicker to Gojo, who is still looking at you like he’s never seen a person before.

“Oh, is it for another one of your assignments?” Geto asks.

“No, it’s not. It’s for the newsletter,” you explain to him, “I guess it’s my job now.”

There are a few more distant footsteps that follow behind the two of them, with the crinkling noises of plastic bags hitting against thighs echoing through the streets, and eventually they catch up. You see Nanami and the UTokyo team’s goalie, you believe his name is Choso, arrive at this little gathering that was taking place outside of the hotel.

“That’s awesome!” Geto exclaims. “I’m sure the newsletter will lead to a lot of exposure.”

“Who reads the newsletter?” Choso asks.

Geto nudges him with his elbow. “Dude.”

“What?”

He then fills Choso in on the conversation, “Oh, my bad.”

“Don’t worry, y/n, I read the newsletter,” Geto says, “I read it like the morning paper.”

“It only comes out once a week, but nice try,” you respond, giving him a weary look.

Nanami crosses his arms. “I actually do happen to read it,” he says, “although I refrain from the soccer section. Feels rather egotistic to read it. I find the campus politics section to be enjoyable, though.”

The rest of you exchange annoyed glances at that.

“Satoru reads the soccer section,” Geto says, slinging an arm around him, “‘cause he’s full of himself.”

For a moment, Gojo remains silent, while his teammates, who had been observing him with amused expressions, gradually shift to awkward blinking, like they were expecting him to complain, or say something sarcastic, or joke around by now.

“I do read it,” he says, eyes locked on yours. “I saw the release from yesterday. Your pictures were stunning.”

You’re flustered from the way he’s looking at you. “Thanks.”

Choso opens the plastic bag he was holding, peering down into it. “Shit. Ice cream’s melting, guys.”

“Yeah, we should probably head back to the rooms,” Geto looks at you, “do you want any snacks?”

“Oh, no. I’m good. I was just about to go check-in,” you say to them.

The boys politely say bye to you, and Gojo mentions something about staying back for a bit and hands Nanami the plastic bag he was carrying before they head back into the hotel. And then the two of you are alone under this roof, drops of water falling from it in between the two of you. He takes a step towards you, and you instantly stiffen. He seems to notice because he sighs and then walks past you to the vending machine that was next to you, pulling out some spare change from his pocket and inputting it into the machine.

“Do you want anything to drink?” The machine feeds him something, and he crouches down to pick it up before standing up again.

“No, I’m good, thanks,” you say, hand clutching the handle of your suitcase.

He cracks the can of his soda open. “So, you’re going to be traveling with us for the newsletter now?” he asks, so concisely, like he felt that every word comes with a tax.

“Yeah.”

“We don’t have to act like we’re strangers.”

You turn to face him. “What should we act like then?”

There’s a hesitant look in his expression as he looks down at his feet and then back up at you. “Can’t we at least be friends?”

The question softens you at your core, the tone of his voice sounding genuine. Being friends with him sounds so nice, and you kind of wish that’s what you two always were. Just friends. Maybe it would have avoided all of this heartache. But deep inside you knew that just being friends with him wasn’t an option anymore, at least not for now. “No, sorry. That’s just a recipe for disaster. I have to go check-in now.”

You grab your tote bag from the bench, grip tight onto your suitcase handle and make your way splashing across the shallow puddles then through the hotel’s automatic doors into the warmth of the lobby.

The lighting inside was warm and there were moderately high ceilings adorned with vintage-looking chandeliers. Around the perimeter, there were amenities including a cozy lounge with a fireplace, a small bar serving cocktails, as well as a business lounge with booths and multiple TVs mounted to the walls playing the local news. It made you feel like you were on vacation, and getting to a hotel at this hour while on vacation always meant that you were about ready to pass out on some freshly washed and tucked white linen sheets after taking a nice warm shower with a lavender-scented mini soap bar.

Making your way through the maze of plush seating areas, you get to the concierge desk to check-in. There was a professionally-dressed woman with a slicked-back bun standing there behind the counter, her eyes scanning the computer screen in front of her, and a big, burly man that stood behind her wearing all black that appeared to be security.

“Hello, I’m here to check-in,” you say, placing your forearm on the cold black counter.

The lady doesn’t look up from the computer screen. You clear your throat.

“Oh, hello. Name on the reservation?” she asks you.

You take a look down at your phone screen. The reservation was still under the name of the person that had recently quit the job. “Yui Ishikawa.”

The lady behind the counter hums to herself, obnoxiously tapping at the keyboard with only one of her index fingers. She was chewing gum. “Hm. Don’t see that name here.”

“What?” You squint at your phone and refresh the page, then turn it to face her. “But it’s on your official booking site. There was email confirmation too.”

She glances at your phone screen then taps at the keyboard again, still obnoxiously loud, but she uses her other index finger this time. “Yeah, still nothing.”

“This has to be some kind of mistake,” you say to her.

She looks up at you with an annoyed expression. “Do you want to take a look at the screen? See for yourself.” She turns the monitor to face you.

You don’t even work here, but you could see clear as day on their interface software that there was a reservation for this Yui Ishikawa woman at this time tonight. You point at it. “It’s right there. The reservation is literally right there.”

She turns the screen back to herself and squints at it. “Oh. Well, unfortunately, we already gave that room to someone else. Since it wasn’t there on our system a half hour ago.”

“What? How is that fair?” You were starting to get seriously annoyed. That refreshing shower you were dreaming of was starting to sound more of a need than a want with every passing minute. “Can you give me another room?”

“No, sorry, we’re all booked for tonight,” she tells you, without offering any additional help.

You look at her baffled. The big burly man behind her has now taken an interest in the conversation as well. “Okay…can you tell me if there are any hotels nearby that I could stay at?”

“Look. This is the countryside, ma’am, there are only a handful of hotels in this area that aren’t tourist accommodations. It’s also the night before a men’s college soccer match, and there seems to be some business seminar taking place nearby too. You can call and check, but the closest hotel this large is about an hour away,” she tells you.

“What? An hour away? I can’t afford a cab ride like that,” you tell her.

“Unfortunately, that isn’t really my problem,” she says.

You blink at her. “Are you being serious? This is ridiculous.”

“Ma’am, we’re going to have to ask you to leave if you can’t comply with our booking rules,” she declares.

“Leave?! You’re the ones that messed up the booking!” You’re yelling now, a few heads turning from the bar at the back. Exhaustion was pulsing through your veins and your filter was slipping. “Do you have any idea how to do your damn job?”

The woman guffaws at you. “Alright, that’s it.” She snaps her fingers, and you watch as the big, burly man walks around the counter of the concierge desk to make his way to you.

You take a step back, watching in horror as he towers over you and grabs onto your arm. “Let’s leave without any issues, miss,” he says in a deep voice.

“What?! But– hey, that’s my suitcase! Don’t– wait–”

“Woah, woah, woah,” you hear a familiar voice call out from the left. “What’s going on here?”

The three of you turn your heads in the direction of the voice, and you see Gojo, still clad in those ridiculously soft-looking pajamas, doing a light jog up to the counter.

The woman at the reception desk straightens herself up immediately, and she pets down on her dress and fixes her hair at the mere sight of him. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Nothing to see here, sir! Just a crazy woman that can’t comprehend hotel establishment rules.”

“That crazy woman just so happens to be my wife,” he says, pulling the big burly man’s hand off of your arm.

All three of you look at him dumbfounded.

“Y-Your wife?” the woman asks, sounding equally surprised and disappointed. “But she’s complaining about the fact that she doesn’t have a room.”

“I know, she does that all the time,” he sighs, “she’s got–...early-onset…dementia. Sweetheart, what did I tell you about packing up all your things and leaving the room when I’m not watching you?”

You give him a what the fuck look. He scowls at you to just play along.

“So…she’s with you?” the woman asks.

Gojo nods. “She always forgets that we’ve already booked a room together. Just a silly little sickly lady. Isn’t that right, honey?” He’s holding your shoulders and making you face the concierge woman.

“Y-Yes…” you say awkwardly, trying to put on a smile.

“So, if you could forgive her behavior,” he says with a super pleading voice, pulling you into him so your back is flush against his front side. “I’ll keep her in check from now on.”

The woman lets out a scoff in disbelief. “Alright…just don’t let her out again.” You send her a nasty look. The big burly man lets out a hmph and steps away from you.

“Sure thing. Let’s go, honey,” Gojo says, grabbing the handle of your suitcase in one hand and your upper arm in his other, dragging you with him across the lobby to the elevators. It isn’t until he’s pressed the up button and you finally gain your footing again after stumbling a few steps that you yank away from his grip.

“What are you doing?” you hiss at him, feeling embarrassed.

He looks down at you with a raise of his eyebrow. “Saving you from getting kicked out of the only decent hotel within a thirty-mile radius?”

“I didn’t need your help, I had the situation under control,” you mumble, smoothing out the layers of your clothing.

“Yes. That’s exactly what that looked like,” he muses as the elevator door opens and he steps inside, taking your suitcase with him as hostage. You panic at the sight and step inside with him, the door closing behind you.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“To my room,” he says, pressing a button on the control pad, “you couldn’t get one, right?”

Your eyes widen. “No…I couldn’t.”

Gojo’s room is on the fourth floor, eleven units down to the right, and you follow him with dragging feet all the way down. Once he makes it in front of the door and takes the keycard out of his pocket, he pauses and looks over at you. “Waiting for you to thank me.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “For what?”

He’s waving the card in the air tauntingly. “You look exhausted as hell right now. I’m the one with the access to a nice hotel vanity and a soft, warm bed,” he practically purrs the words.

You’re instantly folding. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, honey,” he chimes, pressing the card to the reader.

“Stop calling me that,” you grumble as he opens the door for you.

You step into the room, rolling your suitcase inside with you, and take a look around. There was a single bed with the headboard up against the left-side wall, a nightstand on both sides and a desk where you noticed Gojo had his laptop open and a few books out. The bathroom was to the right, and there was a long table that had a coffee machine as well as the TV on top of it.

You place your suitcase against the wall then turn around, standing only a few feet from the entrance of the room, to find Gojo still standing outside in the hallway.

“Do you have to go somewhere?” you ask him. “Why are you just standing there?”

“Oh, I don’t need any of my other stuff,” he says to you, tapping at his pocket where you can see the imprint of his wallet, “room’s all yours.”

Your eyes widen at him. “Wait…are you going to sleep somewhere else?”

He tilts his head at you, as if that was obvious. “Yeah, I was going to go crash on the couch in Suguru’s room or something.”

“But–” you start, stopping yourself.

He’s waiting for you to speak, but you can’t.

“Well…good night, then,” he says and he turns to the side, about to walk down the hall, when you reach out and grab the sleeve of his shirt, stopping him in his tracks.

This was a bad idea. You’re supposed to be putting distance between the two of you right now, so that you can get over him. This was a man that very clearly said he didn’t have feelings for you. But honestly, you missed him. You missed him so damn much this past week, and you can only be strong for so long.

“You have an important match tomorrow,” you say quietly, “you should be getting a good night’s rest. We’ll share the bed.”

He turns to face you, looking down at where you were pinching the fabric of his shirt, which was just as soft as you had imagined, and he glances up to meet your gaze once again. “I’m…really confused right now.”

“What if you guys lose and are booted from the competition, and I have to spend the rest of my life regretting the fact that the reason the school lost a 12-year championship streak is all because I made you sleep on a couch?” you ask him.

He takes a step towards you. “You really want me to stay?” His voice was low.

“Yes,” you say. “We’re mature adults. Despite everything, we can just…share a bed for one night, right?”

He’s silent for a moment. “I think you trust me a little too much.”

Your face felt hot. “Are you telling me that I shouldn’t?”

“I’m telling you that you should really think this through,” he says.

“Just stay. Please.” The tone to your voice came off much more desperate than you would’ve liked.

He looks at you like the last thing in the world he could say right now was no. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Positive?”

“Satoru.”

“Okay,” he says, walking past you into the room, like he wasn’t really in the mood to argue about it anymore.

You sigh, sulking your shoulders a little bit, and watch as he takes a seat at the desk and continues to click through things on his laptop, occasionally sipping on the cup of coffee he had made for himself, as if your presence here was no unnatural thing.

This all felt so domestic for you. This feels like the most intimate the two of you have been with one another, despite the fact he’s literally made you cum with his tongue before.

“Who drinks coffee at this hour?” you ask, crouching down to unzip your suitcase, opening it up to find your cosmetics bag and a fresh pair of clothes to change into.

“Caffeine doesn’t really affect me anymore.” His eyes were still stuck on his laptop screen.

“You sound dead inside,” you comment, standing back up straight. You step over your suitcase that was on the floor and head into the bathroom, about to close the door but you open it enough to peer over at him from inside. “I’m going to take a shower,” you announce.

You see him poke his tongue to his cheek, leg bouncing up and down underneath the desk, and he squints at his laptop screen like there’s something so damn important that he must concentrate on or else the entire universe would collapse inside of a black hole. “Cool. Have fun.”

“I will.”

“I’m glad.”

“No peeping.”

“There’s a lock on the bathroom door. Feel free to use it.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.” And then you’re shutting the door.

It felt nice to freshen up, especially after that long journey, and then you’re doing your skincare in the mirror while you’re wrapped in a towel, trying to forget the fact that the man you quite seriously have immense feelings for is somewhere outside that door just a few feet away in this small hotel room. You spray a spritz of your perfume onto your skin, something there’s literally no point in doing before bedtime, but you still do it…for no particular reason at all, obviously.

When you step back out into the room, Gojo’s eyes are instantly on you from where he stood near the closet. He takes in your appearance and lets out a laugh, looking at you with amusement.

“What?” you ask.

“You look so cute,” he says, “with your little sloth pajamas.”

You’re fully blushing as you make your way over to the armchair in the room to set your cosmetics bag down on it to sort through the mess you’ve just made of it. “Don’t call me cute,” you scold, searching for your lip balm.

You could feel his frown from behind you. “You don’t like it?”

“No. I love it.”

“I’m not following.”

You turn around to face him. “Satoru. You promised me you wouldn’t lead me on anymore. That includes teasing me or complimenting me.”

He looks at you incredulously. “What? I can’t even call you cute? This fucking sucks.”

“Your problem,” you say.

“So you’re cool with sharing a bed, but you’re not cool with me complimenting you,” he lays it out.

“We’re sharing this bed out of the kindness of my own heart,” you say to him, “because I care oh-so-very-much about your soccer career, and understand how important good sleep is for an athlete’s performance. I’m just that considerate of a person.” You point a strict finger at him. “But for your information, if you touch me while we’re in bed, I’ll kill you.”

“Hm. Not sure if I feel threatened or turned on right now,” he says.

You roll your eyes and finally zip up your cosmetics bag, set it on the table then make your way to the left side of the bed. When you glance at the nightstand, you notice Gojo has his wallet, his phone and his charger all situated there.

“Why’s your stuff here?” you ask him.

“Huh? Oh, I was going to sleep on that side,” he says to you.

“I usually sleep on the left side,” you tell him.

“But I usually sleep on the left side.”

You blink at him.

“I–…I’ll sleep on the right side,” he suggests, shoulders tense and on edge.

“Okay,” you shrug, and move his stuff.

Gojo spends some time freshening up in the bathroom too, and when he comes out he looks like he’s actually tired, and you feel like it’s the first time you’ve seen him look as worn out as he probably should be for someone as busy as him. You’re already settled under the sheets, the duvet pulled all the way up to your chin as you lay on your back. He comes up to the right side of the bed, checking his phone for a few minutes while standing and rubbing at the back of his neck, then plugs his phone into the charger. He grabs the sheets, about to pull them back, when he pauses and looks at you.

“Are you su-”

“If you ask me if I’m sure about this one more time, I will no longer feel sorry for you, and will make you go sleep on the love-stained couch,” you threaten him.

He grimaces at your choice of words and pulls the sheets back, slipping himself into bed. “Why do you have to put it like that? You’re gross. Also, I’m pretty sure this bed has seen less-than-holy things too.”

The only lighting in the room came from the warm, dim bulb of the night lamp at Gojo’s nightstand. An incredibly awkward silence settles between the two of you. Or maybe it’s just awkward for you, because he seems fine. He’s on his back too, looking up at the ceiling, practically motionless but there’s the faintest sound of his breathing every once in a while and it’s a sound you’ve never heard in such detail before.

He turns his head to you, but you don’t meet his gaze just yet. You shuffle a little bit, hip bumping against his side, elbow hitting his arm. He’s masculine next to you, shoulders hard, muscles heavy, but when you finally turn your head to glance at him and see the expression on his face, you realize that everything about him was rigid—except for the way he was looking at you.

“When did you sneak it in?” he asks.

“Sneak what in?”

“The can of strawberry vanilla soda. Into my bag.”

You swear your heart stills a little in your chest.

“Before,” is all you say to him.

He sighs. “y/n…”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to feel bad for me. I wanted you to have it, regardless of how I thought my confession would go,” you assure.

It’s hard to read his expression from the side while he’s looking up at the ceiling, but it’s softer than it was a second ago. The need to change the subject consumes you.

“Why do you have calluses on your fingertips?” you ask him. “You’re a soccer player, you don’t use your hands for anything.”

“I play the guitar,” he replies simply.

You perch yourself up on an elbow, looking down at him with interest. His eyes flicker to your face. “Really?”

“No. I was just kidding. Hate the way you got excited though. I might have to pick up a guitar now.”

“Can you just answer me?” you sigh, flopping down onto your back again.

He laughs a little, a sound you feel like you could get drunk on at this point. He lifts his head up off the pillow enough to tuck his right hand underneath it, then rests it back down. You wish there was a mirror on the ceiling so you could see the flex of his arm. “Coach has us do the rock climbing wall at the gym at least once a week for practice. He thinks it’s a good workout. Causes a hell of a lot of skin tear though.”

“That’s it? That’s the reason?”

“Mhm.”

You shake your head, “You should learn how to play the guitar, because that’s a lame reason to have calluses.”

He lifts his head up off the pillow again and brings the hand that was tucked under his nape to in front of his face and he just looks at it. You look at it too. “Why are you so obsessed with the state of my hands?

“A girl can’t be curious?” you ask.

“They’re not that bad.” You wonder if you’ve made him self-conscious.

You watch the way he flexes his fingers open and then closed. He turns it around, and you can see the veins trailing down from the valleys of his knuckles, disappearing into the fabric of his long sleeve. You remember that party, the two of you in that bathroom, when his hands were all over you, and it’s suddenly a little hard to breathe. He turns his hand again so the palm faces him, but now it’s also slightly turned towards you too.

“They’re bad here,” you say, pointing to his ring finger where you see slight peeling at the tip. The padded skin of your finger touches his skin. “A little bad here, too.” You point to his index finger, careless enough to allow all of your fingers to brush against his this time.

He watches you. “Your hands are really small,” he comments, like it was a marvel to him.

You look over at him briefly, and there’s not a single sign of tension in his face as he observes the image of your hand next to his hand in the air above him. He looked like he was at peace.

“Yours are just big,” you tell him.

He knows he’s not supposed to, and you really shouldn’t have let him, but he interlocks his fingers with yours regardless, holding onto your hand. You feel the roughness of those calluses all across your soft skin. His thumb runs over the curve of your knuckle, almost in a soothing way, like he was trying to apologize to you for something. And this was the only way he knew how.

Something sobers him up, because he suddenly pulls his fingers from yours and drops his hand to the duvet. Your hand lingers in the air for a few seconds before you do the same. And now you’re both awkwardly staring up at the ceiling again.

“Sorry,” he says, barely above a whisper.

“It’s okay,” you whisper too.

The silence settles for longer.

He sighs. “It’s not you, it’s me,” he says out of nowhere.

“Huh?” you turned your body a little to face him, and he was looking up at the ceiling as if there was something across the texture that he was trying to decipher.

“I don’t want you thinking that the reason I can’t-,” he pauses, to think carefully about his words, “...that the reason I can’t return your feelings is because of you, or anything you’ve done. It’s been a while since I’ve liked anyone to be honest, and I’m just really not looking to date right now.”

You’re hurt by his words. Because even if he didn’t want to date anyone, you thought that he would’ve at least tried to for you. You thought that he had at least some feelings that the two of you could’ve worked off of. “Why don’t you want to date anyone?”

“Reasons.”

“Obviously. What reasons?” you prod. When he doesn’t respond, you sigh. “If it’s something traumatic, I get it. My hamster died in the fourth grade,” you say, “I’ve never known peace since.”

He turns onto his side to face you with a soft and amused smile on his face. “Sorry to hear that. What was your hamster’s name?”

You try not to feel hot from the burn of his gaze and you turn onto your back to look up at the ceiling again. “Mr. Guilmon,” you say.

“Like…guilmon from digimon?

“Mhm.”

“You like digimon?”

“Oh yeah, I used to watch it all the time when I was a kid. My mom wanted to name my hamster ‘Scout’ but I refused,” you tell him, blinking a few times as the memories from your childhood come back to you. A small smile makes its way onto your face.

“I love digimon,” he says, fast, like he couldn’t contain it.

“Really?” you give him a sidewards glance, a little surprised.

He hesitates slightly before sighing, turning over in the opposite direction to reach for his wallet on his nightstand. You feel the fabric of the duvet stretch across you from the movement, and you remember just how intimate this all felt. He’s laying on his back again, holding his wallet up in the air with both hands as he flips it open, then slides his credit card up out of the slot, and shows it to you. Digimon themed. You have to purse your lips together to hold back your laughter.

He turns his head to look at you when you can’t help but let a little noise escape your mouth, and you can see through the laughter-induced sheen of tears in your eyes that he’s frowning.

“Hey–”

“I’m sorry–” you're fully laughing at this point, hand over your mouth to try to contain yourself, “it’s just– oh my god— you’re the last person I would’ve expected to have been such a nerd.”

“I’m not a nerd–” he tries to argue but you snatch the card out of his hand to study it closer, and also to memorize the numbers on the back.

“Popular soccer boy Gojo Satoru,” you’re giggling, “has a custom Digimon credit card.”

When he tries to reach for it, you stretch your arm off to the left. His weight leans on you, chest pressing against the curve of your shoulder, arm extending across you as he tries to grab his card back. “Quit it,” he mutters.

“No,” you say, holding it further to your left, weakly trying to push him away from you.

“Quit it,” he repeats, face scowling now with what looks like embarrassment, and he holds his upper body up by the elbow, leaning over you even more to reclaim it, “or else.”

“Or else, what?” you say through wheezes, and it seems like something in him snaps because suddenly he grabs your wrist, hard, pinning it down onto the mattress, holding it there next to your head, and his entire upper body is towering over you. Shocked, you’re breathing fast, your eyes darting across his face, and he’s looking at you with a furrowed brow and a tense jaw.

“Or else I won’t keep my promise,” he says through a harsh breath, his voice low and rough.

You’re stunned underneath him. “What promise?” you ask, breathlessly.

He leans down closer, to the point where the fringe of his hair brushes against your forehead. “My promise to hold myself back from you.”

You swallow hard, chest heaving. You feel the heat of his hand on your wrist burning through to your veins. You try to squirm slightly in his grip, but he just presses your wrist down further into the mattress.

He glances at your lips, eyes dilated and stern, and leans down even closer to you. “Do you have any idea how bad I’ve been wanting to punish you for leaving me in that bathroom by myself?” he says in a voice so husky you feel the arousal build at your center the second your head registers it.

You can’t find your words. He keeps his eyes locked on yours, as if to make sure yours stay on his too, and you’re docile under him until he’s distracted you enough to pinch his credit card between two of his fingers and discretely pull it out from your grip. He then lets go of your wrist and disappears out of your line of sight when he flops back down onto the mattress next to you, tucking his card back into his wallet.

“But I won’t. Because I’m a nice person, and will respect your space. Or whatever.”

You don’t know what to say, your hand finding a place over your heart as you try to take deep breaths to calm yourself down.

“We should probably go to sleep,” he sighs after a minute, tossing his wallet back onto the nightstand and reaching over to turn off the light.

It’s dark now in the room, the only light coming from through the layered fabrics of the curtains. It's a cold light, possibly from the moon and maybe some dim neighboring white street lights, but it’s enough to where you could still see the slight texture of the ceiling, and maybe his face.

You both spend a few minutes trying to get comfortable. You try not to bump your butt against him, or brush your chest against his arm, but it happens a couple times anyway, and you mentally curse yourself for it. The rise of the duvet fabric from his chest becomes shallow with his breathing, and you think he’s fallen asleep, but then the two of you turn over at the exact same time, facing each other, eyes flying open and gazes meeting. It startles the both of you, but neither of you look away or say a word. The two of you just sit in the moment for what feels like hours, and very could’ve easily been.

You’re the first to break the silence. “You know, there was a time where I thought that you weren’t even real.” You’re speaking hushed, like you’re afraid someone will hear, even though there’s only two souls in this room right now.

“What?” he asks, a slight raise to his eyebrow. “...why.”

“I don’t know. You’re like this urban legend around campus. You probably don’t know it, since you’re in it, but the world you’re in is very different from the world the rest of us students are in.”

He’s silent for a moment, his face being briefly illuminated by the reflection of a car’s headlights on the windows of the surrounding building. “I think I know what you mean.”

You blink at him. “I thought you would have a few more follow-up questions to that, but I guess you’re surprisingly self-aware.”

He hums to himself. “I think I can just put it into perspective.”

“Perspective?” you ask. You’re hanging onto every single one of his words tonight. You don’t want a single one of them slipping through you, not understood.

“Yeah,” he says, “there are moments where I feel like I’m not in that world anymore. And it feels nice. To get out of it.”

You want to ask him when those moments are, but he’s quick to speak again.

“I guess that means I’m aware of the moments where I am in it, so I know that it exists, if that makes sense? I don’t know.” He looks down at your pajamas, at the dancing sloth at the front, and the crease to his brow relaxes slightly.

“Mhm, makes sense.”

His eyes are back on you, studying. There’s a strange look on his face that you can’t really comprehend. “I want to know about your world,” he says.

You breathe in deep, and exhale shallow. “My world is simple. I want to be a filmmaker and then live in a little cottage.”

He smiles at you. “A little cottage?”

“Yeah,” you say, “maybe in the countryside. The Italian countryside. With my own garden in the backyard so I can use fresh zucchini in my salads.”

“Any animals? Pets?” he asks, like he’s envisioning it all in his head too.

“Maybe some chickens,” you say, “I promised Mr. Guilmon I’d name another one of my pets after him someday. I have to keep my promise.”

He nods. “You do.”

There’s another silence, but it doesn’t feel awkward this time.

“Did you turn your photos in to your professor?” he asks.

“Yeah, I did,” you tell him. “Earlier this week.”

“Nice. What about your reference for grad school?”

“I asked him for it.”

“Oh?” His eyebrows raise. “How’d it go?”

“Mm…I was really nervous, but it went well. He said he’d do it.”

There’s such a tenderness to his expression that you feel so compelled to kiss him right now. “That’s awesome. I’m proud of you. That’s one step closer to your dream.”

You purse your lips together from his words, sitting with the warm feeling in your chest. You want to thank him again, but instead all you say is “we’re even now.”

He lets out a small chuckle. It comes from his throat. “You’ve said that so many times.”

“I know.” Because you can’t believe it’s all over. This little arrangement between the two of you. You don’t want it to be over. “I can’t remember when the first time I said it was.”

“That night,” he answers you fast and with certainty, like it was at the forefront of his mind, “when you drove over rocks. And we sat together on the curb. And I realized how badly you take care of your car. You don’t need thousands of chain restaurant napkins in your glovebox, by the way. No matter how much you might think you do.”

“Wow. I was almost romanced by you for a second, but you ruined it,” you mumble.

You’re instantly taken back to that night. You remember the gentle quality in his eyes as he stared up at the stars, and you can still see the reflection of that sky in his eyes right now with the way he’s looking at you.

“I really liked you that night,” you whisper, “I wish you were like that all the time.”

“Am I not like that all the time?” he asks, voice soft to match yours.

“No,” you say, “sometimes you’re mean.”

His eyes on you are gentle, somewhat careful. “I’m sorry for being mean.”

You wonder if you can change his mind. If you can will him to like you back, if you can will him into wanting a relationship with you. You want to be his exception, not his rule.

“It’s okay. I’m mean sometimes, too,” you say, “mean to myself for sharing a bed with a guy that doesn’t like me.” He’s looking at your lips as you speak. “I’m bad like that.”

“You’re not bad,” is all he says.

“I am,” you say, and you inch closer to him, until there’s hardly any space between the two of you. You look up at him, faces inches away. You feel so safe with him, and yet you also feel scared, because you like him so much that you would let him ruin you if he wanted to. You press a flat palm to his shirt, searching for his heart, and you find that it’s beating fast in his chest. “I’m a bad woman, Satoru.”

“y/n,” he says, like a warning.

“I mean it,” you whisper.

“You said you’d kill me if I touch you,” he reminds you, sounding a little breathless.

“I can’t kill you, you’re way stronger than me,” you whisper, “so touch me.” Your hand is gripping onto the fabric of his shirt now, tight, with desire. He’s looking at you with a whole lot of desire too, but there was something else there as well. “Please.”

He wraps his hand around your wrist–the heat of his touch that you so badly wanted, craved, finally on you–but it’s to pull you away from him. Your grasp on his shirt releases and he brings your hand to the front of your chest, laying it down gently before letting it go. Your wrist lays limp there, missing his touch. Limp in front of your beating heart.

“Let’s just go to sleep, okay?” he says softly.

Your eyes widen when you look at him, and you couldn’t even hide the hurt that settled across your face if you tried. Gaze dropping to his chest, you see the way it was rising with every breath he took, and for the second time in this life, you’ve felt so utterly rejected by him. You give him a compliant nod, and scootch back away from him before turning away. He stays as he is, watching your back, and you can feel his gaze on the nape of your neck.

Counting the minutes to fall asleep felt exhausting, but the last thing you remember before you closed your eyes was the feeling of a tear trickling down onto your pillow, wet and cold against your cheek.

–

You wake up the next morning to an empty bed, and an even emptier feeling heart. There’s also this weird feeling of disappointment within you, and you don’t really know why.

Grabbing your phone on the nightstand, you quickly search for the email with the men’s soccer team practice schedule, and you see that they had a sharp 8am practice this morning before the game in the afternoon. The time reads 6:37am, and you’re wondering where Gojo went so early in the morning before heading off to the practice field.

You went back to sleep for a couple hours, and then woke up again. By the time you took a shower, got dressed, and went downstairs to the hotel lobby to eat breakfast, it was already 10:00am and it was time to make it to the field so you could set up and calibrate your camera prior to taking photos for the match. Following Utahime’s gameday instructions, you took a cab to the location with all of your gear.

The Kyoto soccer stadium was less of a stadium and more of an extremely large and open expanse of grass that had enormous silver metal stands stretching across the perimeter. It was something you would expect of an area in the countryside, but security was still somehow tight across the fenced off area.

It was still a couple hours before the game, so the field was bustling with pre-game set-ups and the stands were empty. There were a few sports canopies being put up, as well as a small truck with workers that were working to stock up the hydration stations. A few men in suits were seated at tables with notepads and clipboards, looking busy in conversation and on what sounded like business calls. As you walk down the sidelines, you notice a few other people checking the distances between the goals and the chalk markings across the field. The stands were extremely close to all of the action, and when you look to the right, you see a couple of familiar faces there.

“Ah, y/n! We’re over here.”

You approach the group of three people, all seated on the lowest metal bench of one of the spectator sections. There were a bunch of tripods, cameras, cases, and laptops sprawled across in front of them. You recognize Hana and Minato, but you don’t recognize the other man sitting with them. You had met Hana and Minato at the game against Osaka last week, they were both professional photographers for the newsletter.

Hana hops off the bench and comes up to you. “It’s seriously so cool you’re here with us and that Utahime got you this gig,” she says to you with a smile. “Make sure your schedule is free on nights after matches, all us photographers usually get dinner together afterwards. You’re the baby out of us, so we’ll pay for you.”

You return her smile with one of your own. “That’s sweet, and sure I’ll try to.”

You glance at the man whose name you didn’t know, your gaze meeting his, and soon enough he’s jumping up onto his feet too and making his way over to you.

“Ah, this is Kaito. Kai for short,” Hana says, gesturing to the man, and then to you.

Kai extends his hand out for you to shake. He’s tall and a bit lean. His style is really boyish—totally nailing the street photographer outfit with the white shirt underneath a flannel one, and some Carhartt pants paired with some Vans. You reach out to shake his hand, and he holds onto it for a second longer than you would’ve expected.

“Hi,” you greet him and tell him your name.

“That’s a nice name,” he says with a smile.

Hana claps her hands together. “Okay! We all know each other now, that’s great. We should get started prepping before the players get here, I believe they’re scheduled to be here in an hour.” She walks over to the benches and picks up her digital camera. Minato grabs his as well as his tripod, then walks over to Hana’s side. “The way we usually do it is to split the field into corners, and each of us works that perimeter. The videographers are here too, so just make sure you don’t accidentally knock over or stand in front of one of their cameras.”

All three of you nod at her and you unzip your case to take your film camera out. Kai is next to you, looking at the device in your hands curiously.

“Kai, you can work with y/n for today since it’s her first day. Split up those two corners over there,” Hana says, pointing to the other end of the field. You and Kai look in that direction. “Minato and I will take the other short end.”

With a few more discussions and detailed instructions, the four of you disperse to your assigned locations. You’re a step ahead of Kai, although he should really be the one leading your stride since you’re the new one here, but he soon enough catches up to you.

“Is that a Canon AE-1?” he asks you, pointing to your camera.

You look at him a little surprised. “Yeah, it is. As vintage as they get.”

“Sweet, I used to shoot on film too. Second-hand?”

“No, third. Still cost me an arm and a leg, though,” you sigh.

He laughs. “They’re not that expensive.”

“I’m a broke college student. I sometimes have to choose between paying rent and eating food,” you say to him.

He kicks at a random can on the grass, sending it flying forward, instead of picking it up. “Yeah, definitely don’t miss those days.”

“When did you graduate?” you ask.

“From UTokyo two years ago,” he says.

You bend over to pick up the can he kicked and jog a little to the trashcan nearby, tossing it in, then jog back to him. “That’s nice. You’ve been doing this for two years?”

“Yup,” he says to you as the two of you reach the corner of the field outlined by freshly drawn chalk. He kneels down on the grass, sets his camera case down, and opens it up. Your jaw drops.

“Is that a—Leica camera?” you ask him, shocked.

He smirks up at you. “Sure is.”

“Oh, so you’re just rich, then,” you sit down on the grass to look at it with interest, marveling at its condition.

“Nope. I’ll bet I got it for cheaper than your Canon there,” he points to the camera hung at your neck.

You meet his gaze. “No way.”

“Way,” he says, pulling out the attachable lens before wiping at it with a microfiber cloth, “I know a guy. He sells used cameras. The only issue is you’ve gotta refurbish them yourself.”

You sigh. “Wonderful. Because I would know how to do that.”

He lets out a half-laugh, and you glance up briefly to look at his expression. He was amused. “It’s pretty easy, just gotta do it once. And then you’ll have a used Leica that works brand-new, all for just under a hundred-thousand yen.”

You’re looking at him with surprise again. “That cheap?”

“Yup.”

“Wow…” Your finger plays with the lens cap on your camera.

“If you want, I can send you his info. But if you want to meet up with him, it’ll probably have to be facilitated through me,” Kai says, “He takes clients by recommendation. No use in selling a used camera to an idiot that doesn’t know how to refurbish it. He’s looking for niche photographers that have the interest.”

You press your lips together, considering it. “Sure.”

He hands his phone to you. “Alright, gimme your number.”

You hesitate for a second before typing your number into his contacts then hand it back and watch as he saves it in his phone. “Canon girl. Won’t forget ya.”

The two of you make work for a second, eyeing the field and mapping out angles of where to get the best shots during play. Kai gives you some pointers and you’re marveling at how good they are.

“Not really used to shooting on film anymore,” he mumbles, peering through the hole on your camera when you handed it over to him, “but usually a one over five-hundred shutter speed works well for sports. I’d switch between that and over two-fifty though, to avoid a blurry finish.”

“Thanks,” you say to him, wanting to write all this down to not forget it. “Wish I knew this last week.”

“Why shoot on film?” he asks out of nowhere, handing your camera back to you. “Why not digital?”

“Oh, it’s a personal interest,” you say to him, adjusting your shutter speed as he suggested, “I think there’s a charm to it. I want to be a movie maker, and shoot on film medium.”

He frowns at you. “How are you going to do that?”

You tilt your head at him, shuffling on the grass. “I’m going to apply to the film graduate program at UTokyo to start.”

He laughs at that from where he’s seated across from you. “Really? That’s a waste of your time.”

Your heart sinks a little in your chest from his tone. “Why would it be a waste of my time?”

He turns to face you more directly. “y/n, trust me, I know this career path. Been there, done that. Millions of film majors like yourself always have these big-ass dreams like ‘I want to become a director, I want to do screenplay’ etc., but only one or two of them actually succeed.”

Your shoulders sulk. It’s not the first time you’ve heard those words from someone—your own parents practically recited them word-for-word before you headed off to college—but you had been doing really well all of senior year to ignore that nagging little voice in your head. It was honestly quite triggering to hear it all again right now. “Well, I think I can do it.”

He lets out a short scoff. “You sound real convincing there.” When he catches sight of your upset expression, he straightens his back a little. “My bad. Just trying to look out for you. I’m your senior in this industry. I know my way around these things. Trust me.”

You nod slowly. “I know. Thanks.” Part of you wonders if he’s just projecting.

“Well anyway,” he shrugs, “I think you should just focus on photography for now. It’s the safest career option for you to do.”

“I guess you’re right,” you say, wanting to diffuse the conversation.

The two of you disperse to your assigned corners once the stands start to fill with spectators. Shortly after, the players make their introductions onto the field, and you can see Gojo across the field. He’s too far to read his expression, but for some reason when you look at him, that disappointed feeling from this morning comes back to you. You try to push it down and just focus on your task at hand.

UTokyo does well during the match, and Gojo seems to be playing much better than the Osaka game last week, scoring two goals within the first half. There were a couple of times where there were throw-ins near your corner, and you made eye contact with him as he’s breathing heavily, wiping the sweat off his face with his jersey, and every time you look at him, that melancholic feeling washes over you again. UTokyo wins 3-2, the crowd evidently disappointed as they were rooting for their home team, and by the time the disgruntled fans started to clear the stands, the sun was setting over the horizon and the sky was a golden color.

The referees on the field begin to oversee the post-match proceedings with the players. Kai comes around to meet you at your corner, and Hana and Minato arrive there too.

“Hey team! How’d it go?” Hana asks, a little out of breath from her journey over here.

“Went fine,” Kai responds.

“It was a little tricky,” you comment, “but I think my photos came out well.”

Hana nods. “Alright, sounds good. Are we still on for dinner tonight?”

Kai and Minato nod, and then all three sets of eyes are on you. You hesitate for a moment, and look off past them to where you see the group of soccer players in conversations with the coaches and referees. You see Gojo standing there, his hands on his hips as he peered across the field, tilting his neck to the side repeatedly, and you realize he had been doing that all match long. That unsettling feeling within you starts to brew once again. “Uh, I’m really sorry, but I’m not feeling very well. I think I might just head back to the hotel.”

Hana and Minato nod at you with a concerned expression, while Kai just looks disappointed.

“Okay, well, I hope you feel better,” she says.

You end up taking an Uber back to the hotel in haste, not wanting to run into Gojo or any of the other soccer players after their match, and make it to the room, using the key card that Gojo gave you to get inside. You take a shower to freshen up, and by the time it’s 7pm, you’re starving. You put on a simple outfit and make it downstairs into the lobby of the hotel, about to go peruse the nearby dining options, but right when you step out of the elevator, you run into Gojo.

There’s a look of pleasant surprise on his face and you take in his appearance. He was still wearing his soccer jersey, covered in grass and dirt stains, and his face was slightly flushed from exertion. You figured he just came back from the field.

“Hey,” he says, “sorry, I was just about to head over there.” He jerks his head off towards the lobby, and you glance in that direction. There was a group of maybe thirty people gathered around the lounging areas and high-tables over at the business suite, and you recognize them as UTokyo’s soccer players, along with Coach Yaga and other team staff. The players were still all clad in their uniforms, carrying all their stuff, and there were plays of today’s game rerunning across the TV screens. You realize they’re probably prepping for interview questions for tomorrow’s conference.

“Oh, please, go ahead,” you say to him.

He tilts his head at you. “Are you doing alright?”

You were aware that things might feel awkward after last night, and that your cheeks would probably feel hot like they do now the next time you had to talk to him. Your mind takes you back to the memories, when you think about how badly you wanted him to stay with you in the room because of that hollow feeling in your chest from missing him, despite how you knew it was bad for you. Because this man standing in front of you doesn’t like you in the way that you like him.

And then it clicks. The reason for that feeling of disappointment you’ve had since the moment you woke up today.

When you glance up at Gojo this time, you see him differently than you had from a second ago. You finally notice the slight dark circles under his eyes, and figure out that the reason he’s been tilting his neck to the side all day was because he was trying to stretch out a kink. You vaguely recall that moment you woke up in the middle of the night, and your sleepy brain registered that there was no longer the dip of him in the mattress next to you.

“When did you leave the room?” you ask him. You know your voice is quiet when he has to lean down a bit to hear you.

He takes his time answering, indulging in a few breaths. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” you say, starting to sound hostile, “you left during the night, didn’t you?”

He doesn’t deny it.

“You left once I fell asleep,” you say, eyes widening with realization.

He sighs. “Yes.”

“Where did you go to sleep?” you ask, trying to keep your tone level.

“Suguru’s room had an extra couch. I pushed them together.”

You felt sick and sad, feeling something worse than rejection right now. There was a part of you that still thought that all of this from him was just a joke. A prank. That he was finally going to say just kidding, I like you too. The reason you’ve been so disappointed since the minute you woke up today was because there was a part of you that thought you were going to wake up this morning with his arms wrapped around you, back pressed tight to his chest while he whispers sweet nothings in your ear of how much he likes you, of how much he wants you, of how much he wants to be with you.

“Why? Even after I said I didn’t want you to have bad sleep?” Your voice was laced with hurt. You didn’t even know how to explain to him why it upset you, because deep down you’re scared it isn’t even valid.

“It’s fine,” he says, “I played fine today. And we won.”

“You could’ve stayed. Do you really hate me that much?” Your words are shooting to kill now. “So I’m good enough to finger in a bathroom at a frat party, but not good enough to sleep next to?”

He furrows his brow. “I don’t understand why we’re arguing about this,” he says, tone starting to match yours, “you’re the one that wanted space. I was just trying to respect that.”

“If you really wanted to respect my space, you wouldn’t have agreed to share the bed with me in the first place.”

“y/n,” he says, “that’s not fair.”

“You should’ve known better.” You’re breathing fast, tone searingly accusive. “You know that I’m trying to get over you, and that I’m vulnerable, and that I’m probably confused about a lot of things right now.”

“I ask if we could at least be friends, you say no because it’d be some recipe for disaster, then you practically beg me to stay with you and tell me to touch you while we’re laying down together. You don’t think that’s confusing for me too?” he counters.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment at the memory of your desperate actions last night, and he instantly looks apologetic. You feel like you’re being unfair, but you feel like he’s being unfair too.

“I’m the one with feelings,” is all you say in your defense.

He swipes at his chin roughly with the back of his hand, smudging the dirt up to his cheek, and then closes his eyes for a second, like the weight of today has finally hit him all at once. He looks exhausted. “Right,” he says, softly, “I’m sorry.”

“Yo, Satoru!” one of his teammates yells from the center of the lobby. “Coach needs you, man.”

He rubs a hand down his tired face then throws a haphazard glance over his shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a sec,” he calls out and then looks back at you. You can’t make eye contact with him, and just stare at the print on his jersey instead. “I’ll sleep in Suguru’s again tonight. The room is yours.”

There’s a lump in your throat and you feel like you’re about to cry. “Okay.”

He reaches into his shorts pocket and gives you a room card. “Here’s the spare. I don’t need to come grab my stuff for the night, so don’t worry.”

“Okay.”

He sounds like he wants to say more, and you see him take a small step towards you, hand reaching out for you, but this time Coach Yaga’s stern voice is calling out to him too. He sighs. “Good night.”

“Mhm. Thanks.”

He hesitates before he turns on his heel and you watch his back, with that signature #10 stretched across the fabric of his uniforn, as he jogs through the hotel lobby to his teammates.

The walk back to the hotel room is depressing, and you find yourself dragging your feet all the way there. Once you make your way inside, you look around at the room and see some of Gojo’s belongings scattered around, but it didn’t seem like there were any of his essentials. You look down at the spare key card in your hand–a promise from him that he won’t try to upset you anymore tonight–and that lump in your throat from earlier comes back.

You hated fighting with him. You hated being away from him. Those feelings that you thought would go away just as fast as they came still sat so stubbornly within your heart, and it was becoming impossible to bear.

You wonder if meeting him was all just some horrible, twisted mistake.

Before you have time to dwell on that sad sentiment, your phone screen lights up with a message.

|| 7:52pm unknown number: kinda sucks you’re not here with us. was looking forward to showing you more of my camera

|| 7:53pm unknown number: this is kai by the way

The features of your face feel heavy as you look down at your phone screen. You don’t even notice your eyes are teary until you realize the blur of your vision makes it hard to see the letters as you type out a response.

You just wanted a distraction from all this pain.

|| 7:54pm you: can you send me the address? i wanna be there

a/n. grrrr i love a one-bed trope so much grrrrrrrrr it's gonna do it for me every damn time lol. thanks a bunch for reading!! there's still so much that i've got planned for the series haha i think the second half is gonna be a lot crazier than the first. super excited to write it though. by the way! i'm starting a choso x reader zombie au series, if you'd like to read more about it and/or be added to the taglist, you can reply to this post here also if you want to be added to taglist in general, i'd recommend making sure your tags are on!! since i've noticed a lot of people have them off

➸ take me to chapter nine!

taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @therealestpussyeater @lost-resonance @hojoslutoru @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @btszn @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @drthymby @ninitoru @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @sykostyles @aquaberrydolphin @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @purplehallow11 @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @mo0nforme @viware @still-fking-single @megumisthirdog @gintokhi @karvokr @cierocanteat @imjustaweirdnerd (hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)

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strongheartneteyam · 6 months

Text

[ credits of the Neteyam pic go to cinetrix ]

Champagne Problems.

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x female!human!reader

CW: angsty, reader feeling her heart hurt, adeline being funny and shipping reader and neteyam, symptoms of PTSD (like a nightmare), sexual tension, confessions of love, angry neteyam, confused neteyam, yearning, crying, fluff, sexual content, neteyam loving reader's breasts, neteyam using his fangs on reader's body, p in v, territorial neteyam, needy and clingy neteyam, slight breeding kink, creampie

I almost cried writing this chapter and istg my pussy clenched hard while I was writing the smut part so… have a good read, I guess lol ps: I know I said I was gonna have a break from uploading my long fics (and I am!) but there was an itch in my hand to finish this story and I gave in and scratched it lol I kinda knew I eventually would. But I'm only gonna update the other fics next year. This one was an exception bc there was only one chapter left (this one lol)

Not proofread. I woke up in the middle of the night to write this, it's already morning outside and I'm sleepy and sick :(

Part 7: All I want is you

𓇼

It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you

You're a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town

And I just wanted you to know that this is me trying

this is me trying (Taylor Swift)

𓇼

In the morning, you woke up and realized you were no longer sitting on the floor, resting your back against the wall of Kiri's marui, but rather laying in your mat. You had a sharp headache but you didn't really know why. Maybe lack of enough sleep, maybe tension… Your eyes searched around for Neteyam but he was no longer there. You knew instantly that Neteyam had been the one to carry you to your mat. He was the only one awake other than you when you two were talking while it was eclipse and you knew it wasn't his nature to leave a girl sleeping while sitting down on the floor in a weird position and go home. No, he was too much of a gentleman for that.

The realization that you were about to go back to the lab in a few days and leave Neteyam behind again hit you like a train. The thought of being without him and having no guarantee that he wasn't gonna find a mate while you were gone and when you'd come back and see him again, he'd be happy with a beautiful na'vi girl by his side - perhaps even carrying his baby in her womb - broke you in a billion little pieces.

Your heart started to beat fast in your chest, like it was gonna escape from inside your body and come out through your throat. But there was also a big lump in your throat. Anxiety stinged your whole body like sharp, thin needles.

You didn't want to lose Neteyam. Just imagining having to stare at a wall in your room at night, to see his sweet face in the crushing darkness and feel the tears rolling down your face, reminding you that you would never be able to hold him again, to feel his huge but gentle hands on your skin, to smell his comforting scent… and worse: to know he would be in some other girl's arms every night, letting her kiss him, having… God, having sex with her…

No. You couldn't let him go. It would rip your heart apart.

And if Neteyam didn't go for Munì like you thought he did, that meant that he didn't stop loving you… right? That's what you were desperately hoping for. You were almost sure you had seen him get slightly happy when you acted like an idiot and let him see how jealous you were of Munì last night. Maybe that meant he still felt something for you.

If you were right about Neteyam's feelings, you didn't quite know why he loved the mess of a girl that you were but… somehow he did, and he was sad because of you, because you refused to be his mate when that's all you truly wanted, in the first place. You had let fear hold you back once again. But not this time. You had to be brave. You had to at least try.

Putting the sheet that was once over you to the side, you uncovered your body and, in a rapid motion, you got up from your mat and got to your feet, feeling the slight coldness on the floor of the marui. Your feet walked slowly but surely among your two best human friends, trying hard not to step on or kick one of the girls as they were sleeping right next to your mat.

You got startled by Adeline's voice echoing in the morning air as she whispered energetically to you.

"(y/n), where are you going?" Her voice was hoarse and slightly funny, because of slumber.

"I thought you were sleeping!" You whispered back as you looked at her sleepy and moody face while she laid down in her mat

"I was but I felt the need to pee and woke up. Answer my question, please!" She demanded

Your heart started beating fast and you spoke "I'm gonna try and make things right with Neteyam."

"Thank God." She dramatically grunted "I knew you liked him all along, I just wouldn't try and force you to mate with the guy, of course. But damn, I've known you since we were kids and I know when you're in love. I wanted to slap you when I saw you looking gloomy and I would ask you what was wrong and you would say that it was nothing but I just knew you were missing him and regretting refusing to be his mate. And Neteyam brought you back to your mat in his freaking arms! You can't let the guy go, you idiot! He loves you! Can't you see it? You both love each other! What was stopping you before from saying “Hey, I know I'm a bit crazy but I wanna be your mate!”?” She sighed, like she was tired of that whole situation

“How do you know Neteyam carried me back to my mat?” Surprise was all over your face

“I woke up at eclipse with your chatter, mamas.” She said nonchalantly

“Oh…” You awkwardly spoke “So, you heard everything?” You cringed

“I heard a lot of it. Enough to know Neteyam is worth it. Now do what you gotta do. I gotta go relieve myself.” She demanded like a mother would

Your laughter echoed around. Adeline didn't realize how funny she was. You loved her. So, so much. That bitch was everything to you.

In only seconds you found yourself rushing out of the marui's door and your feet walking quickly through the warm Metkayina sand.

After a good while looking around and only seeing turquoise skinned tall Metkayina people, you finally found Neteyam. The sight of his broad, striped back did things to you. It made you remember how insanely good it felt when he was inside of you that rainy night on his hammock.

"Neteyam!" You yelled, sounding way more desperate than you had wanted to, and Neteyam rapidly turned around looked at you, his face covered with surprise

"I'm sorry! I do wanna be with you!" You spoke, breath a bit labored as you felt nervous and insecure about his reaction. The next thing you saw, you were breaking down in tears.

"Why did you refuse me, then?" Neteyam asked, slightly angry and utterly confused

He did not understand why you had put you both through all that pain if you did love him too.

"I guess I was just afraid of finally having something beautiful in my life again, to feel safe again and then lose it. I couldn't bear to lose you. The truth is, I've had a crush on you since we first met too and I think I started to have deeper feelings for you at the party. Maybe we fell for each other at the same time" you chuckled wearily between tears, thinking that if it truly happened, it was beautiful and seemed like something out of a romantic movie

“Were you afraid that I was gonna leave you?” Neteyam asked, furrowing his hairless eyebrows

“Yes…” You shamefully confirmed.

It seemed like you only ever thought the worst of Neteyam, even though he was known to be a good man and only proved you again and again how much he cared about you.

"Why would I ever leave you if I love you? It's as simple as that, tawtute." Neteyam stated

An amazed smile was born amidst your tears and your heart sped up as your brain processed those words.

"Are you saying you… love me?" It still seemed too good to be true.

"I'm saying I love you more than you will ever know, syulang." Neteyam walked closer to you and tried to touch your hand

You backed away slightly and he felt frustrated. Even as you declared your love for him you were still so guarded. Neteyam let out an impatient breath out of his feline nostrils.

“Tawtute, please, be my mate.” He asked you once again, his heart open to you once again.

“But what about tsaheylu? You can’t make it with me! What if you one day realize you regret missing out on this experience? It’s such an important thing to your people…” You let out a choked sob as you pronounced those words that felt like a stab in the heart

“Not again with the excuses…” Neteyam thought

“Listen” Neteyam asked for your attention “I do not care if you don’t have tendrils and we can’t make tsaheylu. What’s even the point of tsaheylu if I can’t make it with the girl I love? Tsaheylu is about sharing your affection, your devotion, your need with your mate and I don’t need or want anyone else but you, tawtute.”

You kept sobbing and just couldn't seem to stop.

Neteyam grabbed you and held you inside his strong, long arms, one of his hands on the back of your head, pressing it against his body and the other on your shoulder. His warm embrace felt reassuring.

"It's okay, oeyä tawtute. You are safe with me."

After a while holding you like that, he gently pushed you away from him and held your chin up so you could look at his face.

"I won't ever leave you. I promise you, with the Great Mother as my witness, I will never ever let you go. I'm yours forever. I have been yours for so long…" He gave you a calm smile and wiped your tears away

Your gleaming eyes gazed up at his face. He was so beautiful, his dark blue stripes forming intricate pattern on his forehead, a pattern unique to his body. His bioluminescent freckles adorned his big face and shone slightly even in the light of day. You were so damn lucky to have such a beautiful man be so deeply in love with you.

“So, what's it gonna be?” Neteyam's big thumb caressed your reddened face as his lips were curled in a gentle smile, showing no teeth “Can I finally get an “yes” from your beautiful lips?”

You chuckled and smiled big.

“Yes.” Neteyam's heart swelled with affection and relief “Yes, I'm gonna be your mate, Neteyam.”

“Nga yawne lu oer, oeyä tawtute.” (I love you, my human) Neteyam grabbed your face that was tiny inside his two big hands and kissed you eagerly, his lips pressing against yours like he had been needing that for so long.

Neteyam had been dreaming awake every night about how it would feel if he ever got to kiss your small mouth again. His tongue touched the slit of your mouth, deliciously warm and wet and you parted your lips so he could explore the insides of your mouth. Neteyam's large tongue licked your tongue and you moaned in delight at the sensation. You had missed his kisses so damn much… Neteyam tasted your mouth like you were the sweetest berry juice in the whole Universe.

“I missed your lips and your tongue, syulang. I was craving you.” Neteyam said and softly placed a last peck in your lips

“I missed you too. A lot.” You smiled at him, still tasting him on your tongue "I love you too." Neteyam smiled at you when hearing those words he was dying to hear for so long.

“Come, have lunch with me, oeyä hì'i muntxate.” (my small mate)

You agreed and Neteyam took your hand inside his much bigger one, taking you to the place where the na'vi were handling food to each other.

Many curious blue eyes looked at the both of you as Neteyam possessively held you by your waist and talked to you gently.

“I'm gonna get some fish and herbs for us, okay?” He smiled happily at you, like he either didn't notice or didn't care about how all the Metkayina at that part of the reef seemed to be watching yours and Neteyam's every move.

Quickly he grabbed the fish and took you to some rocks away from everyone else, what made you let out a relieved silent breath.

You two ate your fish, that had been prepared on a bonfire - it tasted delicious, by the way. Slightly spicy but also with fresh notes of something that reminded you of peppermint. Alien food was better than you had ever anticipated while you prepared on Earth to travel to Pandora.

"By the way, I'm sorry about your arm. I bet it hurt a lot…" You brought it up, after swallowing a mouthful of fish

"Not that much. I'm strong." He played around but Neteyam truly wanted you to see him as a strong na'vi male. He knew it was boyish but he did it anyway.

He won a quick joyful chuckle from you.

"I was gonna tell you that yesterday but I guess I got too nervous and then too emotional and I ended up forgetting to. I'm sorry, I think I tend to seem self-centered sometimes…" You spoke

"Don't worry about it. You do seem aloof and a little self-centered" You scoffed in a joking manner at his bluntness but you actually said “Ouch!” on the inside.

Damn, Neteyam truly knew how to humble someone...

“But I know that's not who you really are. People just have to take enough time to get to know you and they'll see what I see."

"And what do you see?" Your eyes shone with wonder and your voice was playful

"I see a smart, strong, sensitive and amazingly beautiful girl."

Your cheeks turned red. You weren't expecting so much praise.

“Ok, stop… I'm not all that.” You awkwardly stated, avoiding his gaze

“Of course you are. I don't know why you can't see it, tawtute.”

Maybe because you hadn't heard that a lot throughout your life…

To be fair, you had been called beautiful and smart many times but not the other two. Kate and Adeline would tell you that you were strong when you needed to hear it but you always wondered if they perhaps just said that because they were your closest, best friends and they only wanted to make you feel better.

𓇼

After lunch, Neteyam sneaked out with you and took you to a private place on the beach where his hammock was hanging, somewhere more secluded, where the both of you could be alone. You knew just what he wanted and you could not lie and say that you were not craving the exact same thing.

Neteyam took you in his arms, winning a squeaky laugh from you as he lift you off your feet.

Neteyam sat you on his big hammock, your legs hanging in the air and not touching the clear sand. He knelt in front of you and before you knew it, he was kissing you. Neteyam eagerly took your lower lip between his soft, full lips, suckling on it ever so slightly and then pressing his mouth against yours. Neteyam's huge blue hands cupped both your breasts over your white cropped top and you whimpered in pleasure.

"Oeyä tawtute…" he cried out "Let me see these titties" his mouth hanged slightly open with anticipation and desire

Once you let him take your bra off, Neteyam groaned in an animalistic, primal way.

"These perfect soft titties are mine now, oeyä muntxate. Only mine."

"Yours, Neteyam." You breathed, so taken by him and the moment. Your panties were slick with your juices, so much he turned you on.

Neteyam laid you down gently but eagerly on his hammock. He wasted no time and quickly brought his lips to your breasts. He had been dreaming of that ever since the first time he saw your breasts jiggle under your shirt when you were walking fast, troubled with your scientist work. Your boobs were just so different from the na'vi females ones and it made Neteyam daydream about how it would feel to have your small buds inside his mouth.

Neteyam sucked on your nipples like he was hungry and desperate to taste your skin. He licked your sensitive buds swiftly, leaving them hard and wet with his saliva. All you could do was look down at his mesmerizing blue face, staring at his bioluminescent little freckles and moan loud. You started to worry if people could hear but you decided it was not important if they did or not and you just did not care. That intimate, raw moment you were having with your Neteyam was much more important than anything else in the Universe.

He started using his fangs to tease your breasts slowly and you whimpered at the sting but also enjoyed the bittersweet pleasure it gave you.

“If you want me to stop, just say it, oeyä tawtute.”

“No. Keep doing it, please” You asked

Neteyam bit your right breast harder this time and you moaned loud again. The acute feeling of his sharp fangs harassing your sensitive skin made you feel an incredible sensation that lied somewhere between discomfort and delight but that ended up just being incredibly addictive. Your folds were even more soaked by now.

“Neteyam, please, fuck me, baby” you begged “I need you.”

“Fuck, muntxate, you're so needy for me. It's so hot, yawne…” Neteyam's heavy breath collided with your skin, sending shivers all over your body

Neteyam undressed you quickly and took his loincloth off just as rapidly, his cock hard and proud, slightly curved to the side.

Neteyam took his cock in his hand and rubbed his swollen tip on your glistening clit, making your body tremble.

“Neteyam… please.” You protested

“Say you want it.” He looked into your eyes, his big golden irises shining with the sight of you in front of him, his mouth in a teasing smirk. His accent drove you insane.

“Please, fuck me…” Your face showed him how desperate you were to feel him

“Do you want me to fill you up with my cock, tawtute?” He dig for more

“Yes, Neteyam, I need your big cock inside of my pussy, please, please…” It's like you couldn't take it anymore. Your cunt felt so empty without him.

After hearing those enticing words, Neteyam swiftly placed his large blue cock at your soaked entrance and pushed it all in at once, making you moan loudly in sheer, raw pleasure.

"Eywa, how I missed this pussy! Your ekxìn pussy feels so fucking good, my little tanhì." (star) Neteyam murmured as he thrusted hungrily into you, his big, girthy cock stretching your insides and filling you up completely.

Neteyam's feelings for you were just so strong that he felt like no words would ever be enough to express his emotions so, he was trying to show you how he felt about you by loving your body instead, pouring out all his yearning for you through his kisses, his desperate caresses, his thrusts…

"Tawtute" Neteyam cried out as he thrusted roughly into you "Oeyä muntxate." (my mate) "Mine. All mine, yawntu…" (loved one) He whimpered in your ear, melancholic and driven wild by his desire and ardent affection for you "Nga yawne lu oer." (I love you) "So, so much."

Neteyam's breath was heavy and irregular as he pounded himself into you as hard as he could. He needed you so much, he felt like he would die if he could not have all of you, if he could not claim you once and for all. It was so good that he didn't last long and came inside of you, his thick warm seed shooting strongly towards your womb. He hoped to breed you but he didn't know you were taking birth control pills. Neteyam's load of cum was so big that it leaked out of your cunt even as he was still inside of you. That was so dirty and sexy that your pussy clenched around his cock as you felt his warm liquid leaking out of your stretched entrance.

After cuddling for a while, when you were looking to find your bra that Neteyam had thrown somewhere in the sand, he looked at your breasts, the two of them full of his bite marks and a big beautiful smile adorned his full lips, followed by a joyful chuckle.

“I marked you well, syulang. Now everybody can see that you're mine. Oeyä muntxate. Mine forever.” He leaned in for a kiss, pressing his soft lips on yours, so needy. Neteyam tasted so sweet but so unique at the same time. He tasted like himself. Nothing else could compare.

You chuckled. “You're so pervy.”

“But you love it.” He smiled at you, his sharp fangs more charming than ever

“Hey! Just because I'm your mate now it doesn't mean you get to be all cocky again.” You teased, pretending to be angry, as you pushed his arm away with your hand

Neteyam only smiled wider. He was over the moon that you were now finally his. All his. Until the end of time.

Neteyam yawned, body still in full bliss because of the powerful orgasm you had given him.

“I'm sleepy, oeyä tawtute. Take a nap with me.” He was already grabbing you in his big striped arms and laying you back on the hammock with him.

“You're not giving me a choice, anyway.” You chuckled and yawned too.

Soon your tired eyes fell shut, as you felt his warm breath on your skin.

𓇼

In the middle of the afternoon, you woke up crying, desperately breathing gasping for air. Neteyam woke up startled with your panicking state. Another nightmare... One of those that left your heart aching and your mind confused for long after you woke up, wondering if it had been reality or not.

“What's wrong, yawntu?” (loved one)

When you realized Neteyam was by your side, still holding you against his warm body, you felt relieved but only seemed to cry more. You buried your head on his soft chest and he just let you cry there, petting your head softly with his hand, his slender fingers running through your locks of hair every now and then, trying to comfort you.

Eventually you stopped crying, sniffing one last time. You placed a kiss on Neteyam's chest, your lips lingering on his skin for longer than they normally would, as if to try and make sure that he was really there with you, that he was real and was not going away.

“Wanna tell me what happened now, oeyä muntxate?” (my mate)

You looked up at his face, eyes reddish.

“I had a terrible nightmare…” just the reminder made your heart ache again “I dreamt you left me. You got tired of me and found a better mate.”

“Tawtute… that's never gonna happen.”

“You promise?” You needed to hear him promise…

“I promise.” He tried to kiss you but you backed away a bit

“What if your parents don't approve of us? Will you leave me then?” You hated how clingy and annoying you were sounding

Neteyam started thinking that he would have to have an endless amount of patience with you. Your fear controlled you way too often. He would have to teach you how to be a little more free. But he would do it gladly.

"Listen, yawntutsyìp" (little loved one) Neteyam held your small face inside of both his huge blue hands "We will fight whatever we have to, whatever comes our way, and we will stay together forever, okay? I'm not letting anything separate me from you. Nothing, you hear me? Nothing." He promised you.

You breathed in and decided you had to try and believe him, otherwise you would end up sabotaging your relationship with Neteyam, you would end up contributing to what you feared the most: him leaving you. What you did not know was that there was actually nothing you could do to drive Neteyam away. He had been chasing you for way too long, he had fought for you like he had fought in the war against the Sky People. Neteyam was too much of a good warrior and too proud to let you go after all that. And damn, he could not imagine a life without you. Not a life where he would be happy and fulfilled, at least. He needed you to see the morning air as fresh, to hear the song of the birds as lively, to see the light of the stars as a guide.

“Okay. I trust you, Neteyam.” You stated, utterly sure of your words this time.

𓇼

♡ Epilogue ♡

You felt safe for the first time in so long while Neteyam held you inside his big arms, his body heat spreading all over you. It felt so cozy and just so… right. Like you had finally found what you needed, what you were unconsciously looking for all along.

Safety, trust, shelter… love.

Funny how sometimes when we need love the most is when we push it away the most, hurt the people who are trying to give it to us the most because we're so terrified to get hurt again, to finally trust and be let down again that we would rather keep drowning in our pain and in our loneliness. Pain can feel comfortable, as crazy as it sounds.

You could have never seen it coming, you could have never imagined back on your Earth days that your safe place to fall would be in the arms of an alien in an exoplanet, outside of your home solar system. What a weird happy ending. But it doesn't matter. There's still much more to come. This isn't the end, it's just the beginning.

𓇼

Turn a curse into a kiss

Change the meaning of your world

Love makes no sense, love has no name

Love drowns you in tears and it sets your heart on fire

Love has no fear, love has no reason

So infinitely vast and we're standing at the edge

Take my hand, erase the past forever

Love Exists (Amy Lee)

𓇼

This is the end, guys 🥲🤍 Feels so good to give Teyam and Reader a beautiful happy ending. Thank you all so much for reading my story 💕

•

Taglist:

@iman-lu

@leaveitbythewave

@creepytoes88

@live-laugh-neteyam

@swaggygurlbae

@neteluvr

@layla2-49

@a-blog-name-2003

@lala-1516

@jakesullyfatjuicypeen

@yeosxxx

@iaratezaewa

@somekindofastupidjoke

@fadedpetal

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knowyourplace-fool · 6 months

Note

Bully gojo and shy oc !! Who always torments you and humiliates you. Makes you do all his works and you do out of fear. You don't question him and feels smug . He tells how he hates you( but actually he likes her a lot but he doesn't confess because ypu keep rejecting every guy so he thinks you don't accept him either) and tells you that you are just a burden on this earth but then you get into an accident and don't come to scl for a week. Gojo doesn't know what happened to you and can't find out cuz you don't have frnds either. After a week you come to schl with a bandage to your head and a fracture sling on your arm. He gets worried and clings onto you and tou lash out for the first time telling him that he got what he wanted and he could be happy now. He gets angry and kidnaps you and fucks you🙃

-> omfg YES! gojo is such a bully

-> sorry for any mistakes!

⚠️: NON CON, Kidnapping, Mean!Gojo, physically, mental and emotional abuse, manhandling, bullying, biting, groping, size difference

-> THIS IS REALLY DARK AND FUCKED UP PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK !

All you’ve ever done is mind your own business

Sure, you don’t have many friends but that doesn’t really bother you

You enjoy being independent. Your grades are high in the air, your part time job in your school is more than enough for you to live comfortably. (In this universe, inflation doesn’t exist)

You don’t really talk to anyone, not even family. Whole bunch of drama happened, and they were toxic so you ended up leaving them for university.

Everything seemed to be going as planned until a 6’4 menace walked into your life.

Gojo Satoru was your typical frat boy and the star of the university’s basketball team.

Some may even say the Golden Boy of your university. He was smart, athletic, had a good reputation among the professors and just with people in general. Not to mention, he was ridiculously handsome. Man literally had girls fighting over him.

You’ve seen him in the hallways but never actually interacted with him. He was in a few of your classes but luckily, you guys never were put together in a group.

Until today. Your prof is running a lab and gathered the smartest students he knows to do it for him. It’s kind of a two in one for him, the lab gets complete and you guys gain some experience.

Anyways, the group consists of you, Satoru and his friend Suguru and some other nerdy people

Now unlike Gojo, you already sorta knew Geto. He was really friendly and kind towards you so you were kind of excited to be working with him.

A few days into the lab and Gojo has a sudden fixation with you. Well he always had, but this lab is letting him work closely with you and it’s making his obsession worse.

You’re stupid if you think that Gojo Satoru hasn’t kept on eye out for you. Every time you walk by him in the halls, he gets a hard on just by catching a whiff of you. The cute skirts and the pastel closet you have drives him over the fucking edge.

It takes every cell in his body to resist the urge of grabbing ur wrist, pulling u into the janitors closet and fucking you absolutely dumb and stupid.

You look so cute and innocent, like a little bunny. And god, you are just an easy target to corrupt.

So, Gojo plans a party. A party on the following Saturday after your lab is complete because he knows that you’ll be free.

His plan is to get you to come, keep you company, get you a little hammered, then get a feel of your pussy. Simple plan.

It’s now up to Geto to get you to come to this party. And of course, for his best friend, he’s 100% on board with his plan.

All goes well in the lab and in your final days of completing the report, Geto asked the big question.

“Satoru and I are throwing a party tomorrow. If you’re free, we’d love for you to come. You can bring anyone you want.”

You blush. Party? Your first party? Your brain breaks out in celebration because as much as you liked to spend your weekend relaxing, you also have a severe case of fomo. (Fear of missing out)

Your eyes lit up, saying yes on the spot in excitement. The following day, you went back to your dorm and tore your closet apart, looking for a nice dress. You settled for a blue, body con, summer dress. (despite it not being a party dress but who gives af bc it’s summer)

The next night, you got all dolled up for the party. You made arrangements with Geto to pick you up. He made it on time, looking handsome in his all black fit with his hair in a bun.

You were excited… for nothing.

There was a party (a lit one), but you realized a little too late that your social skills were next to non existent. The whole time, you felt out of place. So you stood in the corner, drink in hand and watched others dance and interact with each other.

“You don’t look like you’re having fun.”

You turn your head only to be faced with a bright blue eyed man, the one and only Gojo Satoru.

“I guess partying is not my thing.”

“Oh come on, come with me.”

He grabbed your hand and headed towards the beer pong table

You and Gojo were a team and surprisingly you two worked perfectly together

The alcohol in your system made you flush, and you found yourself loosening up a bit and having a bit of fun.

Gojo’s plan seemingly was rolling out perfectly. You were a bit drunk, so he took you back to his room to “sober up” (but it was just an excuse to get u alone so he can fuck u but u don’t know that)

Now listen, Gojo got rizz alright. So imagine the look on his face when he went in to kiss you and you slapped him so hard, his face turned the other way.

“I’m not some whore you can use for tonight. I was genuinely having a good time with you, I don’t know why you had to make it sexual.”

You felt like crying. Is this what all guys think about?? Sex?

You get off the bed and head towards the door before you’re pulled back and thrown on the bed

“Satoru, stop! I want to go home.”

And just like how you did with him, he slapped you. Much, much harder.

He didn’t say anything, he just had this look in his eyes that could honestly kill. He took a hold of your wrist with one hand and let his other roam and touch your body.

He pulled your dress up, revealing the lacy, white, underwear you wore. You were a teensy bit wet, not because of him but maybe the alcohol? Or his best friend?

You don’t know, but Gojo thought the wet spot was because of him.

“Tch, saying you don’t wanna hook up but you’re fucking wet f’me.”

He pulled you closer to the head board, reaching out to his night stand and pulling out,,,, cuffs?

“Wait wait wait wait!” You say in a panic. You squirm to get your wrist free but once you feel the metal snake around your wrists and the click afterwards, you were doomed.

Your dress was ripped off by him. Your panty was somewhere on the ground and he easily took off your bra by doing the same thing he did with your dress. You laid nude under him, against your will.

As you can imagine, the night went terribly for you. You weren’t a virgin but it had been a while since you had sex (all the way back in high school) and really it was your first time with someone so experienced.

The next morning, you woke up with him cuddling you from behind while his lanky legs were intertwined with yours

You somehow managed to escape his grip and sneak out of the house before anyone could notice. You did have work, but decided to call in because of… well for obvious reasons.

On Monday, you dreaded to go to school. But with midterms coming around the corner, you couldn’t afford to miss a lecture. You dressed in baggy clothes and took a different route to class to avoid Satoru.

The day was going alright until you had to go to the library to pick out a few books to help you on an assignment.

While you were reaching on your tippy toes, someone behind you grabbed the book which made you quickly turn around. Your eyes meet his bright, blue eyes.

“You’re avoiding me now?”

The anger that overcame you in that moment was indescribable. You wanted to scream at him, hit him, threaten him or somehow bring him down, but you couldn’t.

“Did I fuck you mute? Answer me.”

You took a deep breath in and said, “leave me alone”

“Why? What, you think you’re too good for me? That I don’t have enough worth to fuck you? Is that what it is?”

He grabbed your cheeks with one hand and squished them together, pushing you back against the bookshelf in the process. He was holding you so hard, you couldn’t move.

“Listen to me, you slut. Don’t get our roles mixed here. You’re literally a piece of shit next to me. You hold no value in this world. If you died, no one would even think twice about it because no one gives a flying fuck about you. You think you’re soooo fucking special or something. You think you’re too good for everyone. Well you’re not. You’re just a broke whore, with no friends, no family, no hobby— nothing.”

He roughly let’s go of your face that you nearly fall to the floor. You tried your best but couldn’t help but cry at his words. Gojo swings off his backpack, grabs a note package and hands it to you.

“This assignment is due tomorrow at noon. I haven’t gotten the chance to start it because of basketball. So you’re going to do it for me cause you’re a worthless, bunny that has nothing else to do after school hours. And before you think about handing in something stupid, take a look at this.”

He pulls out his phone and in a matter of 10 seconds, you felt your heart drop to the pit of your stomach.

A video. Of you. Getting fucked by the Gojo Satoru. It’s evident that you’re crying but it’s easy to cover it up with an “excuse”. Your face held a horrified expression.

“P-please, delete that! Please, I’ll do it but please just- just delete the video please!”

“No, not until that assignment is handed in and I have to get 100% on it. If it isn’t handed in or I don’t receive 100%, this will be leaked to everyone in a matter of minutes. I’ll post this shit everywhere with your full name on it, got it?”

You felt like crying and throwing up at the same time. This felt worse than a nightmare. This felt worse than dying even. “Okay, I’ll try my best but I don’t know if I can get-”

“If you don’t get 100 on this assignment, I’m leaking it. I don’t give a shit. I already showed Suguru— sick bastard got off to it, and I’m sure many more will too if you don’t score 100.”

He picks up his backpack and leaves while you stood in distraught. The following night, after work, you immediately started on his assignment. You saw the assignment date and it was assigned 3 weeks ago. He wants you to do 3 weeks of work in 15 hours.

Somehow, you pulled through the night. Researching the best you can on the internet and trying to make it as best as you possibly could. You were able to send him the file at 11:30am so he could skim through it and hand it in.

You ended up leaving early for the day so you could go home and get some sleep. When you woke up the next morning, your nearly dead phone kept ringing over and over.

You pick it up and see hundreds of notifications on various social media’s and a few iMessages

Your thumb clicked on one of the iMessage notifications and there was Satoru’s name with the following message:

“I told you, only 100%”

Below the message was an image of his mark

A 98%

You swipe off of iMessage and open Instagram and boom

Hundreds of new follower requests, numerous dms and clicking of Gojo Satoru’s story, was the video of him blowing your back.

You checked Snapchat and there it was on his story too. You wanted to die. You wanted to dig a hole and bury yourself alive than live another day in this situation.

Later that day, you had received an email from the dean’s office regarding a “very sensitive and confidential” meeting that would be taking place tomorrow.

You had an idea of what it might be about but hope and prayed to god that it wasn’t what you were thinking.

But to your luck, this meeting was regarding your sex tape and how there is no longer a spot for you on the dean’s list or team.

Your whole world was crumbling apart. You spent your whole life to get to where you are today, only for him to ruin it in a matter of 12 hours.

You left the building slowly, still deeply thinking about what you could’ve done to prevent this. How stupid you are to go to that party and slap the Gojo Satoru.

“Why is this happening to me?”

All of a sudden, everything goes black.

You wake up in a hospital. Your head felt heavy and your arms was twitching. You look around and see… no one. The nurse catches a glimpse of your eyes and quickly walks in to check on you.

She explains that you were in an accident and that they tried to get in contact with an emergency contact but you hadn’t stated anyone. You stayed at the hospital overnight so they can monitor your brain activity and fortunately they were able to discharge you the next morning.

You took the rest of the week off from school and Gojo Satoru was losing his mind. He had spammed called you from various numbers but you weren’t answering your phone at all. He went from his usual mean insults to angry insults to pleading for a response back.

He doesn’t see you until Monday, with a bandage around your head and your arm in a cast which is also in a sling. He nearly runs to you, wanting nothing but to embrace you.

And he does. Holds onto you tightly, inhaling your shampoo until you knee his in the balls.

He immediately drops down and you completely lose your cool. “Don’t fucking touch me! I hate you! You ruined my life! You’re not allowed to touch me after you forced me to have sex with you and shared the video with the entire campus! You got what you wanted Satoru! You stole everything from me! Broke my entire world, burned my hard work down! Made me feel worthless! And now you want to act all concerned?! I hope you rot in hell!”

You ended up going home for the day, otherwise another headache would’ve set in. You took a quick lap before getting up and getting ready for work because those hospital bills weren’t going to pay themselves.

You had the closing shift and although working with one hand was quite the challenge, you desperately needed the money.

After closing up, the walk to your apartment is about 10 minutes away. Everything was going fine until a car quickly pulled up next to you, two men sprung out and shoved you into the car before you even had the chance to react.

One of them had his hand over your mouth while the other held your legs together.

You were blindfolded and tied in the car and after a while the car came to a stop and you were carried out.

You were thrown on the floor and when the blindfold was removed, you were met with his eyes again.

You immediately started crying. You were afraid and quite frankly exhausted of everything that’s happened over the last week.

“Please. I’m sorry. Just let me go. I’ll never ever bother you again. I’m sorry.”

You plead and beg but you hear his belt unbuckling. “Please! Please, I beg you Satoru! I’m sorry! I can’t- I can’t do it again please!”

You were left unheard. He threw you on the bed and tied your limbs to the bed. One of your arms was already in extreme pain and the other arm was starting to hurt too because of how tightly he tied you.

Every ounce of hope drained from your body when you felt his cock push into you. He pushed your head into the mattress and fucked you hard, like there was no tomorrow. Your tears soaked the mattress. Sweat, tears and snot covering your puffing face.

Satoru went on for hours. Abs glistening in sweat, his arm veins popping out because of how hard he was holding you. Not to mention his cock was coated with loads of cum.

You were passed out by the time he finished with you. Your body shaking on its on, cum dripping out your cunt and marks/bruises left all over your soft skin.

Hopefully his bunny learned her lesson.

#tw: dark fic #tw: noncon #gojou satoru x you #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk smut #bully!gojo #gojo satoru #gojo satoru smut

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bangtanflirt · 7 months

Text

(Un)natural Instincts (Part 11)

*Series taglist is closed.

angst, fluff, smut

Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.

Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.

Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Part 4 > Part 5 > Part 6 > Part 7 > Part 8 > Part 9 > Part 10 > Part 11 > Part 12

General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property (Minors DNI, 18+ content)

Specific Warnings: trauma from past SA (vaguely hinted at this time, not explicit), jealousy, ambiguity around fidelity in hybrid pack dynamics, internalized prejudice (against wolf hybrids), mentions of drugs

____

Namjoon stills, his breath caught in his throat at the sight of Yoongi’s lips on yours. Discomfort has him wriggling in his skin, but he battles the feeling long enough to discreetly retreat—finding the nearest guest room before the two of you can pick up on his presence. The wolf shuts his eyes, trying to gather his thoughts.

This is ridiculous. I shouldn’t be jealous. She doesn’t owe me anything.

But all the rationale in the world can’t shake off the of jealousy. It’s not a strong, world-shattering type of feeling—but it’s there and it irks him nonetheless. He can’t help but feel like an absolute idiot for mistaking your offering of friendship as anything more. Was he the only one feeling a pull?

Of course she doesn’t feel anything for me. She wouldn’t think of a hybrid in that way.

As much as you talk of equality, Namjoon isn’t dumb. It’s one thing to support hybrid equality, but it’s an entirely different matter to see him equal enough to be a romantic option.

How could she ever think that way about someone she has to put a fucking leash on to be seen outside with? It’s impossible.

He doesn’t know why he let himself feel this way in the first place. He’s only known you for a couple of days—not to mention he already has a loving pack. Guilt stiffens his features, not wanting to think of what his pack would say at his pathetic little crush. Would they feel betrayed?

Relationships aren’t exactly as black-and-white as “open” or “closed” in hybrid packs. On one hand, a pack is always “open” to accept new packmates to form strong bonds with; however, their pack hasn’t had a new member in years…so were they “closed” now?

He doesn’t know why he’s thinking so deeply about it—you’re not even a hybrid. There’s no wolf in you for them to form a pack-bond with.

You should be with a human, someone who can actually build a future with you. Someone like Yoongi.

You should be happy with a human like Yoongi, and he should be happy with his amazing pack. It should be this simple. So why isn’t it?

___

“Yoongi…”

His heart beats hard against his ribcage, drumming loud in his ears. He waits patiently as you gather your thoughts, but every millisecond feels like a year. Some part of him hopes you’ll pull him back in for a second kiss, but it’s clear that’s not where your head is. He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until you start talking again.

“Was that…was that because I was teasing you?” Your voice is soft, almost a whisper, but the closeness between your bodies guarantees he hears every word.

Shaking his head, his mouth answers before his mind has any time to think.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

He doesn’t realize what he’s done until the words spill out.

There’s no going back now.

There’s a moment of regret. You literally gave him an out on a silver platter—just brushing the whole thing off as an answer to your teasing, fueled by wine. But he doesn’t think his response through, and now the entire friendship he’s built with you could easily go down the drain. His heart—which he’s kept guarded for so long—is fully on his sleeve, vulnerable to whatever you decide to do to it.

The confession lingers heavy in the air, sobering any slight buzz out of both of you.

“I’ve liked you for a while. I don’t know when it started…maybe a few months after I was hired? I don’t remember. I just—I like you. A lot. And I know it might be really stupid to say this and ruin what we have,” his voice barely holds it together to get the rest of the sentence out, “but if you tell me you don’t have any feelings for me then I’ll never act on it again, I promise. That’s all I need to know.”

The strain in his voice prompts you to find your own quickly.

“I…I have feelings for you too.”

Yoongi’s shoulders finally fall down, a mix of relief and elation washing over the second your words soak in.

“Thank fucking God” is all he can manage to get out before pulling you into a tight, cathartic hug.

___

Bacon sizzles on the stovetop, edges turning crisp as Jimin watches over. The fresh aroma of Yoongi’s favorite dark roast fills the kitchen, luring the man in as he’s getting ready to go to work. Jimin signals for him to sit, singing an unfamiliar song as he’s plating the bacon next to a stack of pancakes. The surprise on Yoongi’s face is evident, as Jimin hasn’t cooked him breakfast since the morning of the incident. He'll never say it out loud, but the site does endear him.

“You look happier than usual.” The wolf remarks, noticing the smile Yoongi can’t seem to suppress. It’s hard not to smile when all that’s going through his head are your words from yesterday.

“So do you.”

Jimin puffs out his chest in pride, “Because I just finished baking these” he gestures proudly to a tray of freshly baked muffins. They look mouthwatering, and Yoongi’s hand is reaching out before he even realizes it. But the wandering hand is quickly swatted away.

“Hands off. These are exclusively for Taehyung.”

“Not even one?”

Jimin almost gives in at seeing the pout creep on the man’s lips, but regardless, he stays firm, “Nope. This is step one in fixing our relationship. I need every muffin here if I’m going to make it up to him.”

Curiosity takes over Yoongi’s features, wondering what exactly a guy as sweet as Jimin could do to land himself in such hot water.

“You must’ve messed up really bad.”

Jimin shakes his head, sliding over a fixed plate and coffee. “Funnily enough, I still don’t think I did. It’s the drugs that messed up both of our minds.”

“Why are you making it up to him if you don’t think it was your fault?”

“Because love isn’t always about who’s right and who’s wrong. Sometimes you just have to do what you can to make things work.”

The man raises a brow, taken aback at the wise words coming from such a naïve face, which Jimin notices and starts laughing at immediately.

“I sounded so smart, didn’t I?” His eyes shut into happy crescents, “Namjoon hyung says that to us a lot. It sounds a lot cooler coming from him.”

Yoongi shakes his head in amusement, small chuckle leaving from his lips as he digs into the neatly decorated plate in front of him. Not even the mention of Namjoon could throw off his good mood this morning.

___

As much as you want to celebrate your recent developments with Yoongi, the current mood in the car has you (and everyone else) stiff with unease. The cause of said unease is looking out the window, paying no mind as he stares blankly at all the cars passing. It’s not lost on anyone how distant Jungkook is becoming towards you, refusing to acknowledge any of your attempts at conversation.

That isn’t the only cold front you’re experiencing.

The wolf in your passenger seat is also visibly off. Normally, he’d be the one trying to get Jungkook to get along with you, but it’s clear that Namjoon is lost in his own world at that moment. You steal glances throughout the drive, trying to decipher his expression: it doesn’t look like he’s mad…but it also doesn’t look like he’s comfortable? His responses are short and the smile he flashes is contrived at best, but you hold off on asking him why.

Hoseok’s also lost in his own thoughts, fidgeting with the sleeve of his shirt and trying to keep the bad memories away. His anxiety’s been spiking up as the synthetic hormone levels decrease, mind now unable to create a haze to block all the bad. There are moments, like right now, when he wants to scratch off his skin until he breaks flesh—grasping for any way to reclaim his body. His claws almost peek out, tempted to follow through with his intrusive thoughts, but he’s pulled out of it when he feels Jimin’s fingers interlock with his own.

The younger one leans in, car radio loud enough to allow them their own moment, “Is it the memories?”

Hoseok nods, eyes down on the interlocking hands, trying to focus on the welcomed touch instead of thinking about all the unwelcomed ones.

“Try tuning into your hybrid hearing when it gets really bad. Maybe that can help block them.”

Hoseok’s willing to try anything at this point, so he zones out on the back of the driver’s seat and lets his ears do their thing. It’s been far too long since he’s tuned into his heightened senses, and it feels disorienting at first, as if he’s no longer in the same place as his body. But natural instincts kick in and have him adjusting quickly, letting him filter through various conversations and noises until he’s focused on one moment. It’s a child begging his mother for ice cream, a sweet exchange. He follows their journey throughout the ice cream aisle, listening in as the mother finally gives in and the two discuss what flavor. Surprisingly, Hoseok doesn’t realize arriving at the doctor’s until Jimin’s unbuckling his belt for him.

Hoseok smiles, “That actually helped.”

Jimin simply responds with a peck on the cheek.

___

Dr. Gong notices Jungkook’s changed demeanor instantly, as he’s not acknowledging her either. The youngest simply sticks behind his pack, hands holding onto the bottom of Jin’s sweatshirt. She looks back and forth between Jungkook and you, and you don’t know what else to do but sigh.

“Good to see you all again. I hope all is well.”

You bow before ushering three of the hybrids to take the empty seats while you and the others huddle around her desk.

“We’re getting there” you say, half-heartedly smiling.

She nods, “I assume you all are familiar with the process of heat shots. We’ll do the rut suppressant first. Namjoon, please follow the nurse into that room.”

The rest follow one by one, coming out with band aids on their arm. Dr. Gong pulls out a pile of lollipops onto her desk for their return, scattering various flavors on the desk. Taehyung looks at them with curiosity, eyes telling Jimin he’ll take one if he does as well. Jungkook shoves a strawberry one into his jacket, not bothering to thank the doctor the way his hyungs do.

“I was actually with the authorities yesterday, going over the hybrids’ medical results for them. They’re collecting evidence for Kang’s trial. I expect they'll call me to act as a witness soon.”

Just the mention of Kang’s name has every hybrid in the room flinch.

You nod, "I’m waiting for that call as well. Even a life sentence seems too kind for him though.”

“Plans to distribute fevocaine should land him at least thirty years. But realistically, with his status, I won't be surprised if it's fifteen max.”

A low growl comes from Jungkook, startling everyone in the room.

“All the shit he did to us and he’s only tried for the drugs? You must be fucking kidding me.” The only thing that keeps his rage from boiling over is Jin’s firm tone telling him to settle. The raise in voice has Dr. Gong pulling back, fear creeping in at seeing a fired-up wolf.

“He won’t hurt you” Jin assures, snaking a hand around the youngest’s waist to keep him still.

The doctor gives an unconvincing smile, trying to regain composure.

You give an apologetic look, bowing on his behalf. “Sorry Doc.”

“It’s understandable. I also agree with Jungkook. The laws are ridiculous. The only real good news I can give you is that the synthetic hormones seem to lose most of their effectiveness without the fevocaine. There’s no chance of the collars entering the market anytime soon—hopefully ever.”

The information, although positive, has you baffled, “I knew it was a dangerous drug, but such small amounts really made that much of a difference?”

“It’s the base needed for everything else to work. Only fevocaine can subdue a hybrid’s nervous system enough for the other hormones to instill specific behavioral changes. Simply put, without getting the hybrids in a hazy enough headspace, the rest of the hormones just don’t work.”

You suppose it makes sense, as the Kang you know wouldn’t risk involving fevocaine into his plans unless it was absolutely necessary.

“You’re all set for this month. The receptionist out front can set you up for next month’s appointment. I remember you were hesitant about continuing them on the suppressants, though.”

You nod, “We don’t need further appointments. I’m sure they’ve had enough of synthetic drugs messing up their hormones to last a lifetime. Right guys?”

Namjoon’s eyes go wide, “Are you sure? It’s not safe for you to be around us in heat. We don’t mind getting the shots.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, “I mind.” Jin’s grasp on him becomes tighter, an unspoken command to behave.

“It’s alright Joon, Yoongi said I could crash at his whenever you’re in your heats—or rut for you.”

Namjoon’s jaw ticks slightly at the mention of Yoongi, before he reminds himself that this is how things should be. Humans with humans and hybrids with hybrids. He reluctantly nods at your plan, thinking for the greater good of his pack.

“If that’s alright with you then yes, we would prefer not to be on them. Except for Hoseok.”

Your eyes go wide at the realization, of course Hoseok wouldn’t want to go through his heat. You curse under your breath for not catching that.

Hoseok, on the other hand, looks relieved that it was brought up before he had to bring it up himself. He thanks the heavens he has a good Alpha during situations like this.

___

“You’re back early” you muse, quirking an eyebrow at the figure standing at the door of your home office. Yoongi smiles, making his way to your desk before bending down to kiss your cheek.

“I told Minhyun I had to leave early for an urgent appointment.”

“So you lied to get out of work early? I could fire you for that, you know.” He tilts your head up, kissing the teasing grin off of your face.

“I didn’t lie. I had to come here and kiss you urgently.”

Another kiss.

“Well, this is a side of you I’ve never seen. Can’t say I don’t like it.”

“I have to make up for all the lost time. Besides, this is one step closer to my househusband dream, so I can’t afford to mess it up.”

You roll your eyes, “Am I just a means to an end?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

You pinch his arm and he fakes a hurt face, causing both of you to laugh.

Yoongi traps you in your chair, one hand on each arm rest as he bends to eye level, taking in every second of the moment.

“It feels surreal. Getting to kiss you like this. It’s not something I ever thought would be possible.”

You snake your hands around his neck, pulling his face even closer. “I’ve liked you for a while too. I was just scared…the idea of losing what we already have by trying to be more is terrifying,”

You’ve been scared about the same things as him. This whole time.

“but nothing’s ever felt more right than that kiss. Made me realize that high risk and high return isn’t just for the next business deal.”

“Only you can figure out a way to make this into a business analogy” he chuckles.

“Well my gut instincts have gotten me this far with investments, so no use trying to fight them for everything else in my life.” You’re the one who leans in for the kiss this time, hands cupping his face as you chase after his lips.

“This is going to be the best investment of your life.”

“Those are big claims, Assistant Min.”

“I’m very confident, Miss Shin.”

___

Namjoon’s fork hits the table, slipping out of his hand and forgotten the moment Yoongi announces your relationship at dinner.

“We want to try and see where things go” you say, bringing your free hand to rest on top of Yoongi’s for everyone to see.

“You don’t have to make a big deal out of it. We don’t care.”

“Jungkook.” Jin admonishes, but the youngest pushes back this time.

“What? It’s true. Whatever they do has nothing to do with us. Unless you want us gone so you can be all lovey dovey. I’m sure he” Jungkook glares in Yoongi’s direction, “wouldn’t want his precious girlfriend sharing a space with us. I mean, we’re wolves after all.”

Yoongi cringes at the mention of his ignorant remark.

“Once again, I’m sorry for saying that. I wish I could take it back.”

You squeeze his hand, “Yoongi’s not like that Jungkook. Nothing about this changes the fact that you all have a permanent home here.”

Yoongi nods.

“I’m happy for you guys” Jimin beams, breaking the tension and making you extremely grateful.

“Me too!” Taehyung follows.

You look over at Namjoon, who sends a tight-lipped smile, “You two look good together.”

“Thank you Joon,” his stand-offish demeanor still isn’t lost on you.

Hoseok barely reacts, only half present at the dining table. Jimin assures everyone to just let him be, explaining that turning up his hearing is helping him. He doesn’t need to elaborate, as everyone is highly aware of what goes on in Hoseok’s mind most of the time now. You’re just glad something’s helping.

It’s the sound of a record this time, playing maybe two houses down. A nice, soft melody that makes him want to hum along.

Namjoon volunteers to do the dishes this time, until Jin assigns the task to Taehyung and pulls the Alpha to the side, “What’s going on with you?”

“What?”

“You’ve been in your head all day. I could use a little help reigning Jungkook in, you know. It feels like I’ve been keeping him in check all alone since morning.”

Namjoon looks at the eldest with remorse, “I’m sorry hyung. My thoughts have just been all over the place lately. I should be paying more attention.”

“What is it that’s bothering you? Anything I can help with?”

He shakes his head, “No don’t worry about it. I have it under control.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah.”

___

The Alpha hangs by Yoongi’s door awkwardly, clearing his throat to make his presence known to both of you. You sit up from your cuddling position upon seeing him.

“Hey Joon, you need to talk to Yoongi about something?”

The wolf nods, “I can come by later if it’s not a good time.”

You shake your head and get out of the covers, much to Yoongi’s reluctance.

“I need to go look over some documents anyways. You guys talk.”

It’s when you’re right in front of him do you ask what’s on your mind, “Hey, are you okay? You don’t seem like yourself lately…unless this is another instance of the hormones wearing off?”

“No, this isn’t that. I’ve just been feeling a little under the weather today. It’s nothing serious.”

Your hand is on his forehead in an instant, “It’s not a fever, thankfully. You sure you’re good? Need any cold meds?”

“No it’s fine, really. I’ll let you know if I need anything.”

The wolf waits a second after you leave, making sure you’re far away from the door before speaking. Yoongi watches carefully, not in the mood for whatever “Alpha claim” he’s about to stake on you.

But Namjoon isn’t that kind of Alpha.

“I wanted to talk about y/n.”

“Go on.”

“Now that you two are…together” the word is bitter on his tongue, “we should get along. For her sake.”

Yoongi can’t say he’s not caught off-guard. He always thought a jealous Alpha would be one throwing temper tantrums and bearing teeth. Namjoon’s words don’t help make him any less wary, though.

“That’s hard to do when I see the way you look at her. I’ve wanted this for so long, and I’m not going to let a stranger walk into our lives and take it away.”

The word “stranger” has an unsettling feeling rise up in Namjoon’s chest, wanting to protest and that he and you are not strangers. That he understands you in ways Yoongi never will. But he stops himself. Because none of it matters if he can’t be the one thing you need: human.

That’s something Yoongi will always have over him.

“It’s just a crush, nothing serious. I’ll get over it without her ever knowing.”

“How can I believe that? How do I know this crush won’t turn into something serious in the future?”

“Because it can’t. She likes you. Not me. I’m not stupid enough to make a move and risk her kicking out the entire pack. I know you don’t trust me, but you can trust that I won’t risk the future of my pack over this.”

It’s the one statement that does placate Yoongi, because he’s right. The one thing he—and anyone who’s known Namjoon for longer than two seconds—knows is that his every decision revolves around his packmates’ wellbeing.

“Okay. I can believe that.”

____

A/N: Took a bit longer to get out this week, but I'm always grateful that you guys stick around and interact. Have a great day!

Permanent Taglist: @skyys-universee @morelovefortn @seagulljk @shadowyjellyfishfest @m4gg13-g @wittyreader

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#bts hybrid au #hybrid bts x reader #poly bts #ot7 x reader #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #hurt/comfort

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mondaymelon · 5 months

Text

— 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ! ₊˚ෆ | albedo, xiao, childe x gn!reader

— cw: reader thinks theyre in a one sided love, accidental confessions + d r u g s, ig? do love potions count as that. these potions dont create fake feelings, they just amplify the affections he already has for you !! fluffy :)

[ The very man you've been longing for has finally fallen in love with you !? Ah, no... Instead, does it have to do with this mysterious pink elixir they've drunk? ]

"Oh? This shade..."

ALBEDO's eyes glitter with the glass' reflections, holding the test tube up against the light. The pink fluid within sloshes inside its confinements, shimmering in the sun's rays. "Strange." With his free hand, he whips out his pencil and pad, busy writing down notes in small handwriting, evenly spaced and well lined. "This formula should've been for a health recovery potion, which is red... How come the color is so light?"

"'Bedo, I'm here." Your voice rang into the previously quiet laboratory as you fling the door open, the invading wind carrying flakes of snow along with it. The blonde's eyes narrows at the sight of the inconvenience, dipping his head in silent greeting as he walks over and closes the door behind you. "What are you doing holed up here today too?"

"More work matters." He's about to close his mouth, already moved on from the brief conversation, but instead perks up, eyes rounding the slightest. "Ah, do you think you could offer some assistance?"

"Assistance?" You trail after him, eyeing the various ongoing experiments on the other tables, up until your eyes land on the practically glowing liquid that emanates a honey-like smell. "What, do you want me to drink that?"

Albedo immediately shakes his head. "No, there's no need to endanger your safety like that. I'll do the honors of consuming it, but I'd appreciate it if you could take some observations and write them down. Is that alright with you?"

A part of you was almost surprised at the relationship "progression", if one could even call it that. You had had your eye on Albedo ever since you had managed to get yourself lost in these mountains, only to stumble upon his lab at your wits end, helplessly shivering and lashes decorated with frost. He had nursed you back to health, and then provided directions back to Mondstadt... Since then, you had made it a habit to frequently visit the quiet male, whether providing just some company or bringing a snack or two, you just wanted a way to show your thanks! Somehow, somewhere along the line, you had developed feelings for him, feelings that you were rather sure he'd never be able to reciprocate.

"That... That seems doable enough?" You blink, hesitantly grabbing the pen that lay on the desk. "Just... ah- you should worry for your own health too, y'know?"

Albedo glances at you, taking the tub in his hands. "I'll be fine." And down it goes. Silence, at first, then his legs sway beneath him. You let out a noise of surprise, instantly moving to offer support, but the male manages to steady himself on the table, instead holding his hand out to keep you away. "Aha... oh, so it was that kind of concoction..."

Sensing the exasperation in his tone only alights more concern. "Is it dangerous? H-Hey, let's lie you down somewhere, and then we can-"

Your worries are effectively silenced as his... lips fall upon yours, jewel-like irises that shone with almost unnoticeable hearts, both his hands cupping your face in a touch so delicate you could've sworn it was never there, and the warmth from his pale, burning skin..

And just like that, you heard the usually level-headed and composed alchemist cursed under his breath for the first time. "No, it wasn't supposed to be like this-"

A shy flush left kisses on his features. He had always waited for the right time for his moves, albeit unnatural ones. It was far easy acting with equations and predicted outcomes, but you... you were something so natural, you made him thoughtless so effortlessly. It took him every effort to allow his usual expression to remain on his face, to not voice his feelings. Not now, he'd chide to himself. I'm not ready.

"...A-Albedo, what..." Stupid as you may be, it'd be impossible not to realize it, especially with the way his usually cool skin flamed with heat. "...A fucking love potion?" You touched a finger to your lips, still stunned.

"I'm sorry." He's ashamed, for being unable to control himself under the potion's influence. "The antidote, it's on the table." Dutifully, you hand it to him, your fingers brushing against his in the process.

"Ah-"

"I like you."

It hurts, to hear him say those words that you've been wishing to hear for far longer than you care to admit. "...What? 'Bedo, c'mon, drink the antidote, and then we can hold a proper conversation. You're not in your right mind right now."

"I've already drunken it." Was the moment now? The empty glass falls from his hand and onto the table, rolling to a still. "I like you."

"...What? No, is the cure not working or something, what is-" It couldn't be, but his turquoise-eyed gaze was clear.

"Must I state it once more? I love you." ₊˚ෆ

"Just what is it you have you brought me?"

XIAO's brows furrow with discontentment... or rather, disinterest. You were a peculiar mortal, it was an easy enough fact to gather from his encounters with you. And while he didn't find himself particularly delighted when you appeared, calling it annoyed would be a bit of a stretch. It's a flicker of a thousand emotions at once across the mask of his expression, all but one of them displayed for your viewing - indifference.

His golden, cat-like pupils stare down the small vial you've procured and gifted him, narrowing with suspicion in your growing silence. He prompts once more, "This is?"

"Hmm, think of it as a gift?" You chuckle sheepishly, recalling the rather shady conversation you had days prior, in a small store hidden away in the very edge of the city market.

"Dearest customer, perhaps you'd like this product? It's very popular amongst the young city goers these days, and I have a feeling you've been looking for something similar."

...A scam? "Sorry, I'm not interested-"

"It works. You're in love with someone, right?"

"How did you-"

"There's this distant look in your eyes. I see it all the time. Now, if you'll just purchase this..."

And just like that, you had been probably swindled into buying a likely useless product off of his hands. At the very least, you could use it to hold a brief conversation with the aloof adeptus who often decided to not turn up at all. "It's... a thank you gift for protecting Liyue all these years...?" In the corner of your vision that greatly encompasses a wonderful view of your shoes, you spot the unwavering features of Xiao's face give the slightest waver.

"There's no need to thank me." He says it all apathetically, yet accepts the gift. "You still have yet to answer my question, however. Of what nature is this object?"

"Ah... well, you see, I don't exactly know either? You could call it a local specialty, of sorts..." You weren't exactly lying, were you? You didn't know what it was, although by it's heart-shaped container and pinkish color you could likely wager a guess or two... but it was better to remain ignorant. At least that way, you wouldn't be to blame if anything unfortunate occurred.

Oh, but was such a term the correct word to describe such a happening? Had it all gone "wrong" the moment you bought the suspicious thing, or was it when you handed it to him, watching him drain the container of its fluid? Either way, something found its way inside your heart the moment the adeptus set the glass down with enough force to hear the sound of its surface fracturing into thousands of spiderwebbed lines.

"The glass... Xiao, are you alright?" You stepped forward worryingly upon seeing the adeptus clutch his forehead with his hand, eyes fluttered shut. Don't tell me... holy shit, was it the real deal? I'm so fucked.

"You..." His voice was deep, husky, almost with a raspy note as his eyes opened to reveal his sharp amber eyes. "What did you just give me? What are you doing to... me?" He grew silent as his slight stumbling paused, a hand gripping the balcony railing for tentative support.

When you met his gaze again, his eyes shone. Gold, no longer, but rosy pink, adorned with bright pupils cut in the shape of hearts. His breaths left small clouds of white that escaped his mouth with every quickened exhale against the cold air, yet despite the chill, his cheeks and ears were dusted with an almost feverish red.

You shake your head, wanting to step closer but growing afraid. Fuck, just how were you supposed to explain yourself? After pursuing your pathetic, so-called "advances" towards the man in hopes of one day achieving a level of intimacy, in longing of hearing those three, beautiful words part from his open lips... Ah, but you've screwed it all up now, haven't you? You might as well have fed him poison. "N-No, I didn't think it would actually-"

"I love you."

It's quiet.

Or perhaps its thunderous. That is, the sound of your heart in your ears, pounding without any heed of the absolute mess of emotions coursing through your veins at the moment. This wasn't right. He didn't love you, not in the way you loved him. An illusion, this was, a painful ploy that would do nothing to sway his heart.

"...No, no." You shake your head, taking a step back, too ashamed to meet his eye. "Xiao, you don't. It's... I'm sorry.""

"No, I do love you."

What? His eyes, his astonishingly gilded eyes, they've rid themselves of their hearts, yet the words still remain in his mouth.

You blink your eyes once, and then once more. "This…?"

"Adepti are naturally immune to such a thing. To fall for such petty tricks would be foolish to the highest degree. Despite this..." Xiao sidled closer, a hand covering the lower half of his face. "Does that mean... you wanted me to love you?"

Would he leave you if he knew?If such a thing could be possible. Unbeknownst to you, the male held some sentiments of the same regard, but how to address them lay far beyond his area of expertise. "And if I did, Xiao? What then?"

"I'm not well versed in the ways of mortals, but surely, I'd do this."

...His lips were soft. ₊˚ෆ

"Ahaha, so it's a gift for me?"

CHILDE grinned with delight, seizing the bottle from your hands into his. "Pink," was his only comment as his eyes swept over the vial. "Is this... valberry juice, or something?"

"Not quite~" You smiled mischievously, aware that no matter how many questions he asked, you'd be partaking in none of them. "Besides, it's more fun if it's a surprise, no?"

"Mmm, but the cute shape of it is making me pretty curious..." Childe's voice trailed off as he ran a single gloved finger across its glass expanse, clearly enjoying himself. "Well, I suppose there's nothing else to do but 'find out', yeah?"

Hmm, would it be a pleasant discovery? You toyed with the idea and he drunk the substance. The sleazy-looking merchant that had sold you such a product had claimed to be a "magician" of some sorts. A bold claim, since you had traveled to the waters of Fontaine in occasions prior and witnessed a true magician in the act - although that was irrelevant. Either way, you had let your curiosity get the better of you, and impulsively bought it just to own the thing. It didn't require a large chunk of your wallet, nor was it completely useless... that is, as long as it was potent. If it wasn't, then you could laugh it off, saying it was something you concocted for the fun of it and he was your test subject, but on the offchance it did...

A guilty expression flitted across your face. You had held feelings for the harbinger since he had been stationed at the harbor, at first only courageous enough to gaze at him from afar, admiring the way his lips curved upwards in a smile and the way the sun's rays reflected across his deep eyes that resembled troubled waters. Somehow, one lucky incident had led to another, and now the two of you were considered friends, yet you longed for something more...

Perhaps this "potion" would help you settle things. It was time you escaped from your daydreams and delusions, time to put your heart to rest. The two of you were friends, and you should be content with just that-

"Damn, this shit is strong." Childe let out a low whistle, and you almost felt inclined to applaud him. "Sweet, too. Not bad."

"...Ha?" You shook yourself out of your stupor. Fuck, who gave him the right to look so pretty doing menial things? "So... You like it?"

"You could say that, but I think I like you more~"

"I'm... sorry?" May the archons remind you to report that man to the Millelith later for witchcraft! "Are you drunk?"

"You're a sly thing, aren't you?" Since when had he gotten so close? "Acting all oblivious now that I've caught you in your act, did you really think I wouldn't notice?" He held the now empty, heart-shaped bottle between his pointer finger and thumb, chuckling. "These things are notorious among the underworld, you know, although I certainly didn't expect this dearest friend of mine to bring such a thing to me... what a riot!"

"Ah..." All the words that you could've said in the moment seemed to fly out of your head, and now you only gaped at him, mouth ajar. "Uhm..."

"You're lucky I've been trained to be immune from 'poisons', if you could call it that. That way, I can say that it wasn't a lie."

"...A lie?"

"I like you."

"Wait, but I- I just did that to you, and you're-"

"What, that? It's funny, if anything... besides, it just shows that you want me as much as I want you, no?" ₊˚ෆ

(a/n) sigh i got burnt out near the end so childe's part is about 300 words short im sorry ginger lovers... </3 happy new year eve (timezones are so weird lmao) !! ill be posting a fic tomorrow for that too most likely sooooo watch out for that ig? it would be ever so cool if you followed me . p le a. se. im like 10 away from a big silly number and id actually give you eternal kisses if you do

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader, @fiannee, @aether-darling

reblogs appreciated !!

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toruro · 1 year

Text

— ✧ crazy stupid love

pairing. kwon soonyoung x reader

description. your best friend, turned fuck buddy, seems a little too upset about your latest instagram post ...

tags. smut (18+), fwb to lovers, some angst, fluff, confessions, mean dom → switch hoshi, jealousy, arguments (dw there is resolution), angry sex, biting, dacryphilia, degrading (+ discussion of degradation), use of safeword, slightly inspired by crazy stupid love

w/c. 3.6k

a/n. happy birthday hoshi! ngl this has been sitting in my drafts for like 2 months but i figured i should wrap it up and post it today :3

"who's this?" soonyoung asks, holding his phone up to your face. on the screen is a picture that you posted on your story last night, your friend with an arm around your shoulder.

"huh, that's dongwoo," you say, looking up at him with furrowed eyebrows. the back of your head is leaning against his shoulder as your legs are propped up on the other end of the sofa. soonyoung came over to watch the harry potter marathon with you a few hours ago, but with the showing break going on right now, you're both taking some time to catch up on your phones.

"who's that?" soonyoung says flatly, not looking at your face as he pulls his phone back, squinting at the photo. his gaze feels oddly scrutinizing, but you don't say anything about it just yet.

sitting up from your position, soonyoung frowns as you lift yourself off of him to sit across from him on the couch. "you don't remember dongwoo? he went to high school with us?" soonyoung gives you a blank stare. "jeong dongwoo? doesn't the name ring a bell?"

the name does ring a bell, but soonyoung only shrugs and replies, "uh, no i can't say it does."

"no way! we had chem with him! he was really nice and good at labs too," you go on, reminiscing about your memories from your teen years.

"that's weird, i don't remember him." that's a lie—soonyoung definitely remembers dongwoo, but he doesn't remember him ever being as smitten with you as he looks on your post.

"well whatever," you brush off, leaning back onto soonyoung's arm. "he was in town and dmed me asking if i wanted to catch up over dinner."

"a date?" soonyoung asks shamelessly.

you scoff. "no. not a date. just two friends meeting up for dinner."

"a guy and a girl don't meet up for dinner and not call it a date," your friend argues, and then you lift yourself off of him again. soonyoung is slightly annoyed you aren't curled up by his side anymore, but he's even more annoyed by dongwoo's stupid smile on his stupid face with his stupid arm around you.

"what are you talking about? we go out for dinner all the time! those aren't dates," you tell him as a matter of factly, frowning slightly as you do.

"yeah," soonyoung murmurs with a humorless laugh. "and we usually fuck afterwards, so our case is obviously different."

heat courses through your body as the words leave his lips. it's not like he's wrong, but the shamelessness of it all is a little more than you're used to. you're used to the deafening silence and the unspoken words that fill the gaps every time soonyoung leaves you breathless, every time he leaves your brain empty, every time he fucks you.

after he says that, there's that thick, ugly silence wedging itself between you and soonyoung again. you don't like it, not one bit.

"whatever," you finally huff out, not sure if you should lay back down on him or continue sitting up, sensing that soonyoung might want to make a bigger deal out of this than is good for him. "it wasn't a date, i don't know what else to tell you."

neither of you know why you're trying to convince him of this. it shouldn't matter if it was a date or if it wasn't, if dongwoo had an arm around your shoulder, if his touch lingered more, fingers ghosting down your body, up your thigh—

that's what soonyoung tries to tell himself—that it doesn't matter, that none of it matters, that you don't matter to him—at least not like that. too bad he can't control himself. soonyoung can never control himself when it comes to you, and he's starting to wonder if that's a blessing or a curse.

he scoffs, "you're being a real brat right now."

your eyes narrow at him and while this would usually put you in one of those moods—the mood where you want to yank your pants off, have soonyoung's hand in your panties—you're slightly annoyed right now. "what's that supposed to mean?" you ask accusingly, crossing your arms tightly over your chest.

it's a thoughtless gesture but your tits bunch up together and the curve peeks over the collar of your loose shirt. soonyoung stares for a moment and then thinks about if dongwoo looked at you like this. like he wanted to grab your tits, tweak your pretty nipples between his fingers, drink in your moans while he licks into your mouth.

the thought has red flashing through his vision and before you can even think, there's a pair of hot, wet lips on yours and soonyoung is kissing you like he'll die if he doesn't. teeth gnashing against each other as one of his hands wraps around your torso, the other goes up to grab one of your tits, massaging the flesh with his palm.

yeah, you said you were annoyed, but yeah soonyoung is a great kisser and your mind is throttling, going back and forth as you try to decide if you should give in or attempt to hold your own. "soonyoung," you pant as you break away to take a breath, but his lips are on yours again too quickly for you to form a reply.

you find your resolve running thin as you thread your finger into his hair, bringing his face closer as he shifts on the couch above you, knees on either side of you, caging you in. his mouth his pressing kisses to the side of your lips now, peppering your cheeks, and then he's on your neck.

your lips aren't occupied but any words of protest have effectively died in your throat as you squirm under soonyoung when he sinks his teeth into your skin, whining out his name. your hips buck into his for some much needed tension and you can feel soonyoung chuckled against your skin as he licks over the reddening mark.

you feel dizzy when he pulls away and admires the way he's quite literally marked his territory on you. scoffing out loud, soonyoung gives you mean look. "wonder what dongwoo will think about this ..." your mind races at the words—what soonyoung means by that is still a bit of a mystery to you, but the fact that he's so hell bent on keeping you to himself is ... it's turning you on like crazy.

and soonyoung doesn't stop there as he pulls off his shirt and you try to shimmy out of your pants. "what'll he think, huh? his cute little crush ..." he murmurs, looking down at you after your pants are off and thrown to the side, leaving you in just your soiled panties. "his dream high school sweetheart with her legs open, pussy dripping, for a guy who isn't even her fuckin' boyfriend ... like a fuckin' slut."

you gasp when he brings up a thumb to toy with your clit through the fabric, hips jerking up at the contact. "w-what are you—" you're cut off by your own moan when soonyoung pushes the cloth to the side, slipping one finger into your aching cunt without warning. you really want to ask soonyoung what he means by all this, but it just feels so good—too good, and you can't help it at all—your body seems to always give into him.

his finger is already hitting that one spot that he knows has you seeing stars, and your jaw goes slack at how quickly the pleasure is all hitting you. usually, soonyoung likes to work you up to it; starts by playing with your clit for a few hot minutes 'til you're begging for just some fingers inside and then he toys with you for another good while before he finally gives you his cock and fucks you dumb. something tells you today is a bit different.

today is very different, but you have a strong feeling that you won't mind. because all it takes is a few more quick flicks of his wrist and you're crying out his name, saying, "'m gonna cum—soon-soonyoung, 'm cumming!"

you thrash around on the cushions as your orgasm hits you, and soonyoung buries his head into your neck and biting down even harder than before. the slight sting has your senses heightening and your cunt throbs around his fat fingers as he fucks you through the high, not relenting until your neck is littered with hot red marks and you're quivering beneath him.

a content sigh escapes your lips when he slips out of you, allowing yourself a moment to breathe as you start to sit up when soonyoung narrows his eyes at you, unbuckling his jeans in the process.

"don't move," he warns and although you furrow your brows, you comply nonetheless, letting your head fall back against the couch as you watch him shove down his pants and boxers in one go. soonyoung's fat length springs out, hitting against his abdomen as he shuffles his way in between your legs.

pressing his lips together, he asks, "color?" and when the word green is slipping softly from his mouth, he finds it hard to hold back. "fuck, how are you this needy already," he groans when he catches the look on your face—your bottom lip jutted out as you look up at him with shining eyes.

soonyoung grabs your cheek with one hand roughly, shoving a thumb into your mouth as he positions his cock between your folds. you're quick to wrap your lips around his thumb, sucking hard and swirling your tongue in hopes that it'll egg him on to just stick it in already, but instead he just slides his length up and down your folds.

you pout around his thumb but don't stop sucking, letting the drool run down your chin as tears well up in your waterline, and soonyoung chuckles at the look. "go on baby, go on. know you want it," he coos mockingly, continuing to cover his length in your slick but not actually giving you what you want.

"soonyoungie," you whimper when you can't take it anymore, trying to lift your hips yourself so he'll get the message but then he's pressing down on your stomach and holding you in your place.

"be patient slut," he demands, and your eyes press closed when he does, walls clenching around nothing as the word slips from his mouth. "you just came—are you really that insatiable?"

you nod dumbly as he slips his thumb out of your mouth, using the same, wet hand to tightly squish your cheeks together. soonyoung thinks you look so cute like this—puffy lips and lashes thick with tears—and he doesn't give you even a moment's warning when he snaps his cock inside of you in one go.

his balls are pressed against your ass, and soonyoung holds himself there for just a moment before he's pulling back and thrusting back into you. "god fuck—perfect pussy," he groans, thrust after thrust as you throttle against the couch with the increasing force.

you can feel your ass and thighs burn from the way his skin slaps against yours every single time, the sensation only adding fuel to the fire as you cry out his name.

"bet dongwoo thought about this," soonyoung moans as he starts jamming his cock into you less methodically and more sloppy, more hard, more fierce. "thought 'bout having you moaning his name like the pretty whore you are."

you try to mewl something along the lines of, "we're just friends," but it comes out as nothing but a high pitched moan as your second orgasm creeps up on you.

and it's fucking mind-numbing, and you don't think you've ever cum so hard and so fast but soonyoung is grinning down at you as you arch your back and squeeze around his cock so tight it almost pushes him off the edge but no—he's determined to keep going until you can't take it anymore.

"keep goin' baby, i know you can take it." he hardly gives you a second to rest, thrusts slowing only for a few moments as he watches you cream his cock before letting his hands roam all over you.

in your overstimulated haze, you hardly realize when soonyoung flips you over, cock still buried deep inside your hot cunt as you try to stabilize yourself on your knees. his hand is on the back of your neck, pressing your face into the cushions so hard it muffles your moans as his cock batters your buzzing pussy.

he's ramming into you so hard now and all you can feel is white hot pleasure ripping through your body, soonyoung whispering about how you're his filthy little slut, taking everything he's giving you. gripping onto the side of the couch, you try to hold yourself together, you really, really do, but it's too much all at the same time and the word slips from your lips before you even have to think about using it.

"r-red." it's so quiet and hoarse the first time that you aren't even sure if he can hear you so you cry out again, "red, s-soonyoung, red."

it's all a haze when soonyoung slips out of you slowly, giving you both a few moment to adjust as you finally catch your breath over the hiccups of your soft whimpers.

now soonyoung likes seeing you cry, but not when it's like this. he likes seeing you whine and tear up when you're under him and writhing from pleasure, but what he doesn't like is the way your eyebrows are furrowed like this. 'cause when he looks at you now, he sobers up and the anger that fogged his mind just moments ago is clearing up.

"s-shit, i'm sorry," he says quickly as you curl up against the cushions, limbs still quivering from all the pleasure and stimulation. soonyoung wants to reach out, wants to touch you—hold you—and ask you what wen wrong, promise you that he didn't meant to go too far, promise you that he didn't even realize it, but he's not sure if he should.

because right now you won't meet his gaze and he's wondering if he's somehow royally fucked up what's likely the best thing he's got going on his life.

soonyoung's lost for a few moments before senses are snapping into him and he thinks he should get you some water, a towel—do anything except sit here dumbly like he is right now. but when he shuffles away from you and is about to step of the couch he feels a familiar touch around his wrist and he gapes down at you.

"wait," you mumble, finally looked up at him once the tears have stopped flowing. soonyoung stills for a moment, and he's not sure if he should take that as in invitation to move closer or just stay put, but then you're tugging him softly and he can't help but cave. "can y-you lay on top of me?" you ask timidly, and soonyoung gives you a weird look as if to ask, are you sure? "i, uh, i think it'd help me. please?"

that's all takes for him to drape his whole body over you, arms pressed against your side and hands stroke your shoulders. your bare chests are pressed against you and soonyoung swears your rapid heartbeats sync up on the spot as you breaths start to relax.

when all finally feels calm, soonyoung takes a moment to finally ask you the question that's been bothering him this whole time. lifting his head, he finds you looking right back at him. "are you okay? what went wrong?"

"i—yes, i'm okay."

"a-are you sure? you can tell me anything you know—i won't judge, i won't care—i mean obviously i'll care but you know what i mean and—" he starts to ramble, and your lips almost twitch up into a smile, "—and i'm sorry this isn't about me but i'm worried i did something and might have majorly fucked things up and—"

"soonyoung," you say, voice all breathy and light. "slow down, i'm okay."

"are you?" he asks, and his voice is so shaky you frown.

"yes, i promise. i'm, well, i think i just got overwhelmed. it was a lot and happened really quickly and it was a bit more intense than i'm used to," you admit. "not that i didn't like it ... i just wasn't expecting it."

soonyoung watches you carefully as you speak, sitting up and pulling you up in the process too. "i'm sorry—i didn't realize," he confesses. "i was—" he inhales sharply wondering if he should admit his jealousy, "— a bit lost in my own head. i shouldn't have taken it out on you like that. do you want me to get you water?"

you nod and he stands up, heading to the kitchen to grab you a glass. when he sits back down, next to you, soonyoung is relieved when you curl up by his side, gulping down the drink before questioning him. "um, can i ask what you mean by, uh, lost in your head? wait actually—before you answer that—" you pause, "—do you really think i'm a slut?"

soonyoung's eyes widen. "no—fuck, god no. i just—you know, we usually—you know—degrade. if you don't like it i'll stop and—"

"no no, soonyoung, like, i meant outside of sex. do you think i was—i dunno—messing around with dongwoo?"

dongwoo? "no—i don't think you're a slut for that. shit, i'm sorry—i don't even know what the fuck got into me. i just—i don't even know. okay fuck. fuck. okay. i was jealous."

"of dongwoo? we didn't even fu—"

"i know. i know—it shouldn't even matter because we're not exclusively fucking or whatever but i got jealous okay? i don't know—i fucking love you so i saw him with his stupid hand around you and i wanted to punch him in the fuckin' face."

your eyes snap wide at that. "what? you—fuck—what?"

soonyoung hardly even realizes he's confessed until you're looking up at him with those wide eyes and he wonders how he's managed to dig himself deeper into this hole. shit, there's really no getting out of this now. he might as well crawl down further and sit there for the rest of his life and—

"i, uh—i didn't know you felt the same way."

"what? what do you mean the same way—"

"are you stupid, soonyoung?"

"um, kind of."

you laugh and kiss him hard for a second. suddenly you're pressing his shoulders and swinging a leg over his thighs so you can straddle his laps.

"wait hold on," he murmurs, but continues to wrap his arms around your waist as you lift your hips to align yourself over his still hard cock. "a-are you sure? are you okay?"

"yeah," you mutter, kissing him again as you wrap your arms around his neck. "can we take it a little easier from here though?"

soonyoung doesn't hesitate to say, "yes, of course—" but the last word gets cut off by a hitch of his breath when you sink down on him, the two of you moaning in unison at the feeling. his hands are gripping your waist and holding you down as he relaxes, leaning back into the seat as he casually says, "i am never calling you a slut again. or anything degrading for that matter." it's half a joke, half not, and you can tell he's still on edge.

"i like it," you admit as you adjust yourself on his lap, not really moving yet though. "just—i was a bit worried today. i thought you— i dunno. didn't know you liked me too and i didn't know what to think."

soonyoung furrows his brows but can't find the right words to say, so he kisses you instead, pulling you up so his cock drags out of halfway before gently letting you fall back down, tip hitting your walls slowly but deep.

"fuck," you moan into his mouth, holding his head closer to yours. absentmindedly, you lift your hips up again and then grind down methodically, causing both of you to break away from the kiss and look down at the sloppy wet mess where you connect.

and as you both get lost in the moment, fingers grappling at each other's burning skin, letting your bodies melt together, it dawns on you that you and soonyoung have fucked a countless amount of times but this is the first (of many) that you two have made love.

it's an entirely new experience, dreamy eyes and wet, passionate kisses with whispers of love confessions under your breaths and the smooth and damn good thrusts that slowly but surely bring you to the edge.

"feels so good," soonyoung moans, thrusting up into you gently to meet your bounces as you steady him with your arms around his shoulders.

"g'na cum, soonyoungie?" you try to coo, but it comes out as a whimper of your own as you feel that knot in your belly threaten to snap. and when he's nodding into your neck and sucking on the skin, you both fall apart in each other's arms.

cries and grunts mix together in a beautiful song and when you and soonyoung look at each other, sweating, flushed, teary eyed, and so fucking in love, you know that whatever happens with the two of you after this, it will work.

a/n. hope u enjoyed it!

tags. @synthetickitsune @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji (strikethrough could not be tagged)

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alatusprinz · 2 years

Text

albedo , xiao , heizou x afab! reader

summary : telling your beloved about your cnc kink .

warning : cnc (consensual non-consent kink), dom-sub dynamics, dom! albedo, dom! xiao, dom! heizou, sub! reader, fem anatomy reader, sexual content, mention of unprotected sex, dacryphilia, mentioned breeding, dumbification, manhandling etc

reblogs are very appreciated!

albedo ( kreideprinz )

is amused, to say the least.

humans in general are amusing to him, you of course far more than others

his not-so-subtle wish to use your body as he pleases turns out to be very close within his reach (restricted by your safeword of course)

shamelessly pulls out his notebook, making brief data on your tastes

" forceful domination, almost bordering nonconsensual intercourse, i see. i have never even considered this to be a fantasy before. "

when he notices your slight change in expression, he immediately assures you

" of course i don't mind. i'm willing to try anything you desire in bed. with your permission, of course ."

the discussion in general went as smoothly as it could, you even agreed on a physical form of safeword to let him know in case you weren't able to speak. (to tap on his thigh/shoulder depending on the position 3 times.)

the problem was what lied afterwards.

almost a month passed after your 'conversation' but nothing has happened yet, to your surprise

you weren't expecting your well-mannered boyfriend to jump on you immediately, but you thought he would've tried something by now

you had almost forgotten completely about this subject, which was exactly what albedo was aiming for

what you certainly did not expect was for him to slam you against his table in the middle of the day in his lab in dragonspine- a full month after your little 'confession'.

"stay still. you'll mess up my calculation." easier said than done.

your mouth hung open, hands barely managing to hold onto the smooth wooden table underneath you. with each hard drill of his hips, your back rubbed harshly against the cold surface. the entirety of this position was mildly uncomfortable with how your legs were forced wide open over albedo's shoulders, not to mention how eerily cold his hands felt gripping your hips. you never knew he could be this... forceful.

"n-no stop-" as soon as you started struggling and pushing weakly against his chest, albedo shoved two fingers into your mouth to silence you immediately. you gagged and drooled hopelessly, pussy clenching incredibly tight around his cock to his pleasure. amidst your tear-blurred vision, you could see how his normally warm teal eyes glowed in unfamiliar, cold indifference. like you were nothing but a... toy for him to use. he was never like this to you- fuck but the way his length forced its way in your hole was clouding your mind too much for you to burn this all into your memory.

" such expression only tempts me more, love. see how you're dripping onto me? you want this as much as i do." he placed a tender kiss under your ear in contrast to his brutal actions. another deep thrust was forced into your poor cunt, but this time he deliberately aimed for your weak spot he knew all too well. you shuddered in pleasure but weakly shook your head. no, you did not want this. you did not, you did not...-

"no ?" he faked confusion over his pretty features until returning to his cold calculating expression.

" too bad you have no say in this." albedo emphasized his words with a sharp retraction and snap so deep in your cunt. he had your hand resting on his shoulder in case you needed to express your boundaries, yet you didn't.

a smirk grew on his thin lips- of course you didn't. after all, you were his adorable little doll to use as he pleased right? a sense of pride overflows albedo's chest, that you entrusted your everything to him like this.

his pretty, pretty little sweetheart.

xiao ( alatus )

mildly extremely horrified

can't say he's a fan, really (at first)

"...pardon?"

no many how long you spend verbalizing your desires, he would struggle to understand

xiao is pretty emotionless in facial expressions but his reaction to your cnc kink was... remarkable, to say the least

would like to hear and comprehend more before doing anything

it would take a long, long time for him to even consider actually giving into your not-so-subtle invitation now and then

at the end of the day, he really wants to satisfy and pleasure you, that's exactly how and why he caves in

in the middle of you teasing him about his carefulness and your desire for him to do the exact opposite, he glances in your direction

you did notice his familiar glare targeted at you, silently warning you to stop

but did you? not exactly, you were curious to see where this led you

well, you got your answer soon enough when xiao pushed you against the bed with incredible force despite him controlling his strength with all his might

you winced at his sheer strength when he slammed your hands above your head and held them down on the bed with one hand, grip tightening to keep you in place

noticing your slight recoil in response to his actions, he scoffed.

"that was me being as nice as i could. you can't even take this but claim that you want me to force you to my desires."

you opened your mouth to protest, but halted when you noticed xiao's gaze darken.

his amber eyes stared down at you in carnal desire, frustration and want. xiao's gaze made you feel so small, like you were his prey.

"safeword."

he had to make sure you remembered it when you'd need it

giving you one last chance to back off

he was an illuminated beast. he expressed multiple times that you had no idea what he was capable of.

when you smirked and stated your safeword with confidence, he sighed in defeat.

" quit struggling. you'll only hurt yourself more." xiao's monotonous voice echoed in your ear. how could he say that so indifferently when you were having an incredibly hard time even comprehending what he was saying?

your body twitched uncontrollably from the heavy sensations of overstimulation. his grip on your hips was bruising, the repeated sounds of the bed creaking and headboard slamming against the wall deafening to say the least. xiao's gaze switched between your sloppy cunt swallowing his dick greedily each time he moved and how your face twisted so prettily under him in unwelcome pleasure. he growled like an animal in heat, his own mind fuzzy just as yours are from how sinfully glorious you felt around him. to think out of everything, this was what worked best at the worst of his days.

xiao grimaced a bit at the sudden weight of his karmic debt washing over his sanity. in irritation and lust, he drilled into you even harder to push away the feelings. you gasped out from how brutal his thrusts became, nails digging into his back with no regard to leaving marks. fuck, he wanted to keep you so bad, have you warm his cock for all eternity in this fragile world he works damn hard to protect. was this the celestia blessing him for all he's done? if so, he'd go through all the hell he endured as many times as needed just to have you, wreck you like this again and again.

" xiao no stop- too much!! hurts-" you pushed yourself to the limit just to say these words without stuttering only to have him scoff and lowly... laugh at your foolish request. it was almost as if he heard an amusing jest. nothing that left your mouth other than your pretty moans and safeword mattered to him at this point.

"silence." he commanded, you subtly shivering at his unfair order.

his sharp fangs left bite marks, hickeys, visible engravings as proof of his claim over you. you trembled like a leaf in ecstasy. greedily burning your image into his memory, xiao continued his assault over your poor body. in truth, the vigilant yaksha was much, much more possessive than he lets on. seeing you like this under him, almost unresponsive due to his corruption, may ironically be what works best to tame the darkness in him.

but the thoughts can wait. xiao bit your shoulder harshly, relishing in your broken moans, your body slowly melting, falling into shape to accompany him. that's right, entrust yourself to him more. alatus will absolutely destroy you,

all while musing in his head how fucking grateful he was to have you.

shikanoin heizou

not exactly what he expected when you sat down with him to have a 'talk', but let's just say he's good with surprises

after a few seconds of much-needed explanation, expect his eyes to be gleaming with curiosity

not opposed to trying it as soon as possible at all

"that's interesting! power dynamics, i see."

"so you don't mind if i like, hurt you intentionally? or even unintentionally? i mean i'd be careful of course-"

sounds a little bit too excited but he means well

can't really blame him, heizou is super attracted to you in every way possible and this was you entrusting your desires with him, of course he'd be over the moon!

of course he'd please you as much as he can, he is your lover after all. he quite literally exists for that doesn't he?

and if it's him forcing your mind body and soul to accompany him, he'd gladly take the role

at the end of the day he might even favor cnc kink more than you do

you were so, so beautiful. there was nothing in this world to compare to your beauty in heizou's eyes while he beamed fondly at your oh-so cute reactions to his fat cock bullying your cunt repeatedly. the entire evening the same sweet smile never left his face. guess that's how happy he was to have you, his beloved darling to force, use and break as he pleased, hm?

voice barely even audible anymore from how long he'd been worshipping your body in his own twisted way (which was rutting into your hole as he pleased for the past few hours despite your protests and tears), your body felt ruined, used and almost broken. alas, your current state was the most beautiful he had ever seen you before. after all, he was the cause here wasn't he? shikanoin heizou, not anyone else.

in harmony to his endearing thoughts, he drank in the adorable sight of your tear-stained face, unfocused eyes and drool dripping down your cheek. his fondness of the current situation was so, so evident in every way possible. normally, heizou's affection and overwhelming love was welcomed but his overbearing fondness you felt right now was foreign, almost suffocating in the best way possible. but it didn't change how overwhelming his actions were, did it?

"heizou- ah! no- no stop m' gonna go mad, please-" you didn't even know what you expected, but your tears dropped even faster when he playfully giggled and tilted his head in fake confusion. he blatantly ignored your frail arms desperately trying to push him away, even going as far to laugh in your face loudly, way happier than you expected him to.

"maybe you've forgotten your place, baby! you're mine to use, fuck, and breed. you belong to me, my beloved darling." heizou's cloyingly sweet voice sounded hypnotizing despite the fact that it took your entire effort to even comprehend what he was saying to you. when you closed your eyes in exhaust, heizou smirked and took it as a challenge to force them open with the force he used in his thrusts. angling his hips just the way you liked it, a fond giggle left his mouth when you opened your eyes wide, pupils blown and gaze unfocused from the mind-blowing overbearing pleasure after your nth orgasm hit you against your will. you hopelessly cried and thrashed to no avail, heizou's weight forcing you back in position just so he could continue using, abusing your pretty body to get off again and again.

just when you felt like you were about to pass out, heizou called your name.

"it's fine baby, look!" grabs your limp hands and places them over his rapidly beating heart in his chest, all while repeatedly snapping his hips fast and hard against yours.

"feel that? feel how fast my heart is beating? it's beating to show you that i'm all yours too! i belong to you as much you do to me ♡"

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buckyalpine · 8 months

Note

Okaaay! How can you write perfect imagines like that ! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ Now I cant help to send you another idea and I'M NOT SORRY!

Another Bucky one, where you’re kinda their technician and support the Avengers out of the IT section of the compound when they are on the field. But Bucky also thinks you should learn how to self-defense yourself just in case, but you always refuse. One time you finally give in and he starts training private with you, which one time leads you falling and landing on top of him. instead of getting up, he pulls you closer and kisses you and even carries you to his room to make sweet love. Afterwards he’s a huge cuddler and you both confess your feelings ? I LOVE YOU 😊

I LOVE YOU I LOVE THIS I LOVE IT ALL, give me some sweet, soft Bucky loving his shy girl. (also bb, idek if you remember sending me this considering how long I've taken, IM SO SORRY, I hope I did this justice). Ugh, I love this type of smut, lowkey a weakness.

You breathed out a sigh of relief, setting down your headset after navigating the team through the building they had to break into, infiltrating the security system from your place in the Avengers tower. You guided them down the halls, alerting them of any potential hazards that were to be expected, carefully watching four different screens at once so you had eyes on all of them.

"Couldn't do this without ya short cake, see you soon" Tony's voice crackled through the coms, making you giggle before signing out. You loved your job with the Avengers, helping them on the field through the latest Stark technology, safe in your IT lab. You never had to worry about skills or getting injured because you didn't have to go out onto the field, at most, having to worry about the wifi ever slowing down at the wrong time (though there were plenty of back up softwares in place).

The familiar sounds of boots softly thudding down the hall made your heart flutter, peeking up from your place behind the computer to see Bucky walk into the lab, still in his tactical gear. He didn't seem fazed by the cut that was bleeding from his forehead; at the very least that seemed to be his only injury.

"You saved our asses again" Bucky grinned while you shook your head, taking his hand and making him sit at your desk, pulling out a first aid kit to take care of a gash that was cut across his eyebrow.

"And you're still bleeding" You gently dabbed a cotton ball to his eyebrow, carefully blowing away the sting after.

"Just a scratch doll" Bucky shrugged, letting you clean up the cut, the serum already starting to heal it. "How were things here"

"The usual, made some tea, watched your mission online, nothing exciting"

Bucky hummed, bringing up the same thing he always did after getting back from a mission without fail.

"Maybe you should learn some self-defense doll" He peeked an eye open, meeting yours while you put a final band aid on the side of his forehead just above his brow. "Just in case. Can't have anything happening to our favorite little short cake"

"I'm perfectly safe in the lab, Bucky" You replied, his words making your cheeks heat up, brushing them off as his usual playful teasing. This wasn't the first time Buck had suggested you learn self defense and you always shut it down.

"C'mon. I'll teach you, give you a private lesson. I'll be gentle" He prodded further, being dead serious in his offer. Sure you were safe at the tower but should anything happen, he wanted you to be able to take care of yourself if necessary.

"Bucky-

"It'll be good for you! What if someone broke into the compound when we aren't here"

"Bucky-

"Or if aliens attack. It literally happened last month. Remember that big purple ball sack-

"Bucky-

"Or if you're just walking down the street and someone tries to steal your purse"

"James-

"Pleaaseeee" Bucky gave you his final puppy pout, eyes wide, his bottom lip jutting out until you finally huffed, butterflies fluttering around you tummy.

"Just once" You agreed, feeling like you'd been lit on fire at the handsome smile he gave you, deciding to meet up twice a week at the gym for training. You felt nervous, seeing as you'd never had to use self-defense in your life. You weren't exactly coordinated for fighting and even though you were learning you didn't want to look like a complete fool in front of Bucky of all people.

You nervously made your way to the gym, surprised to find it empty with just Bucky waiting for you at the mats. You were expecting to find it full with the others training as well.

"Is it just us here?" You asked as he held his hand out, helping you under the ropes.

"Booked the gym just for us doll, we have it for an hour so you don't have to worry about anyone else" He smiled warmly, hoping the blush on his cheeks wasn't obvious, not wanting to seem like a creep. He really did want to train you, but he couldn't help the inkling of excitement he felt getting to help his crush.

You were surprised at what a gentleman he was. Training went surprisingly well; Bucky started off with easy moves, always warming up and helping you stretch first. It didn't help that you were flustered each time, usually slipping or tripping because you were caught up in his blue eyes or pink lips, the scent of his cologne always making you woozy.

He caught you every single time, setting you back on your feet with ease, praising what a good job you were doing whenever you did something well and encouraging you when he showed you something more challenging.

"Alright, today you're going to attack me" Bucky stated while you stared at his wide eyed, shaking your head.

"Bucky, I'm not sure I can-

"Yes you can short cake, c'mon, show me what you've got" He threw you a playful smirk, taking a few steps back and getting into position. You gulped, shaking off your nerves before steadying yourself, remembering everything he'd taught you. It didn't help that he'd decided to leave his shirt behind, his sculped body nearly taunting you from focusing. You launched yourself at him, managing to land a hit near his ribs before he caught you, gently grabbing your arm and holding it in place.

"Good job doll, now you're going to try and get out of this and attack again". Bucky's voice was strained, struggling with all his might to keep from blushing more, the scent of your shampoo and the softness of your skin making him giddy. With each training session, he was falling more and more for you, your shy giggles and smiles making his school boy crush worse.

You tried to focus on getting out of his hold instead of the fact that you were pressed tightly against him with your back to his chest, his warm breath fanning against your cheek, the coolness of his arm making you shiver. You wriggled around, slipping out and lunging forward again. You couldn't recall the exact sequence of steps Bucky had taught you, asking him while still moving.

"Do you think I should-ops-" You squeaked, losing your footing, crashing right into the soldier, sending you both onto the floor, landing right on top of Bucky. Bucky caught you, hands firmly on your waist while your eyes grew wide as your nose nearly brushed against his, chest pressed right onto him. You were frozen in place as the the tension grew thick, his baby blues daring to your lips before looking at you again, your sweet face centimeters from his, all he had to do was just-

Before he could stop himself, he pressed his lips against yours, smirking at the surprised gasp you let out before melted into him, eyes closing when you left his tongue softly trace along your lips. You lost yourself into the kiss, gasping again when he handled you with ease, standing with your legs wrapped around his waist, holding you securely. Your heart hammered against as he made his way towards to the gym doors, his arm supporting your ass while the the other cupped your face to kiss you again.

"Wanted to do that for so long short cake" Bucky shyly smiled, pressing the button of the elevator to take you right to his room, leaning in again for another kiss. You giggled, kissing him right back, tugging on his dogtags, not breaking away from each other until you were in the privacy of his room, gasping for air.

Bucky gently nudged the door shut, laying you down softly on the bed, lying on top of you, brushing your hair away from your face.

"Hi" He gave you a boyish smile, nuzzling his nose against your cheek, coaxing you to look at him when you tried to shy away, still in shock you had kissed Bucky and now you were in his room.

"Hi" You whispered, biting your lip feeling his hand softly stroke your waist, the both of you lost in each other again. You sucked in a breath before pressing a kiss to his cheek, blinking up at him to see if it was okay.

"So soft" He hummed, stroking up your thigh to your waist when your hitched your leg over him desperately wanting him closer. "My pretty short cake" Bucky didn't rush, the both of you innocently kissing on his bed, not leaving an inch of skin untouched with hands exploring each others bodies. Your stomach flipped when you felt his erection press against your tummy, the deep blush on his cheeks making you fall for him so much more.

"Is this okay?" Bucky asked, toying with the hem of your shirt, waiting for your permission before going any further.

"Please Bucky" Your voice was needy, craving to be closer, warmth pooling in your panties at the sight of his bulge straining in his grey joggers. He took his time undressing you, taking your hands in his and pulling you up so he could take your top off, tossing your sports bra aside immediately after. You lifted your hips up, letting him pull your shorts and panties off in one go, feeling exposed, your legs shut tightly together. As much as he wanted to admire your pretty body, Bucky kept his eyes on your face, smiling at you reassuringly while you covered yourself with his sheets.

He threw his clothes off before joining you under the covers, laying on top of you again, this time letting his kisses trail to others places. You let your hands cling onto his muscular shoulders while he kissed down your neck and across your chest, making his way to your peaked nipples, taking one into his mouth. You bit your lip to hold back your moan, hardly realizing you'd spread your legs for him, the slick between your folds making a mess between the sheets.

His cock leaked against your thigh each time you whined, his tongue drawing circles around your softness, pulling off so he could pay attention to the other. His thumb came up to flick your nipples, groaning when he felt your hand come to play with his hair, his hips rutting against the bed.

He continued to kiss down your body, nipping your tummy before settling between your legs, licking your sensitive inner thighs before spreading your folds apart and kissing your clit.

"So sweet doll" He whispered as he began to gently suckle, moaning when you whimpered, his arm slinging over your hips to keep you from squirming.

"Oh-B-Bucky!" You gasped, the band in your belly already starting to tighten as he drew circles, his lips sealed around your sensitive nub, nursing from you with the most soft, gently gurgles, his beard soaked with your juiced. "Bucky-I-I'm gonna-

"Come for me short cake, lemme taste all of you" Bucky went right back in, the sound of your moans growing louder making his cock throb, restraining himself from humping the bed knowing damn well he'd blow his load if he moved the slightest. You came all over Bucky's face, covering your face with your arm when he crawled back up with a grin, your arousal glistening off his lips.

"All shy for me now doll?" He purred, moving your arm away so he could kiss you deeply. You could feel his painfully hard cock pressed against you reaching down to stroke him.

"Fuck" Bucky hissed, his eyes rolling back, involuntarily thrusting forward into your hand, a drop of precum falling onto your skin. The sight alone send another wave of arousal gushing between your legs, feeling more empty than ever, feeling his thick velvety shaft fuck your hand.

"Can-can I?" You were too shy to say it but you wanted to make Bucky feel good too, his perfect pink glistening cockhead begging to be sucked, all leaky and swollen.

"You have no idea how much I'd love that but I just-I really wanna be inside you baby" Bucky panted, letting out a strained chuckle knowing damn well he wouldn't last if he saw your sweet doe eyes looking up at him with your mouth filled with cock, much less actually feeling your tongue. "Is this okay?"

He pumped his cock a few times, swiping it along your folds, his weeping tip catching against your fluttering hole.

"Will-will it fit?" you bit your lip, bringing your legs to wrap around his waist, your arms slinging around his shoulders, wrapping yourself around him.

"Told you I'd be gentle" Bucky smiled softly, kissing your cheek as he started to push in, swallowing your gasp as he began stretched you. "Fuck you feel so good" Bucky moaned softly, continued to give you every inch until he bottomed out, stilling so you could adjust.

"Everything okay?" He looked at you with concern, wrapping your body protectively against his.

"Feels good Bucky" you nodded, your voice melting into a moan as he started to move, pulling his hips back slowly and thrusting forward again, keeping a steady motion, letting you feel every bit of him inside you. He reached places you'd never felt before, shamelessly getting louder, digging your nails into his skin when he moved faster, desperate to give you as much pleasure as he could.

"Wanted this for so long doll, y'know that? How long I wanted to make love to you?" He confessed, grinding his hips, barely pulling out, his full, heavy balls pressed against your ass. "Make you feel so good pretty girl, take care of my sweet little short cake who always looks out for me"

"Please don't stop Bucky!" You begged, squeezing his cock, your pussy pulling him back in each time he pulled out, nearly tearing up at his words. "Don't-oh god-Bucky, don't-stop!"

"I know baby, I know" Bucky cooed, "Shhh, feels good, doesn't it? Is that all babygirl? Does it feel good?" His thrusts grew more powerful until he was pounding you into the matters, pouring every bit of his feelings into his strokes, the feeling of your body wrapped around his driving him closer to his own climax.

"Feels-good-so-good" you hiccupped between a whine, crying out when he brought his knee up to fuck you deeper, hitting a different angle. "RIGHT THERE BUCKY"

"That's it angel, I know baby, that's your spot, doing so good for me, think you can give me one more doll? Cum one more time for me?"

"Y-yeah!" You wailed, your back arching off the bed as he brought his hand between your bodies, rubbing your clit with soft circles, adding more pressure between snapping his hips. "I'm gonna cum Bucky!!"

"My good girl, makes me so hard when you say my name baby, cum for me angel, cum on my cock, don't stop till you cream all over me baby, I got you" He held you tighter, your head tucked into the crook of his arm while he cradled you, his other hand still rubbing you. His pace didn't faster, panting, desperately holding his own orgasm off, your brows knitting together, jaw slack, sweat covering your skin.

"You look so pretty like this babygirl, fuck, gonna make me cum y/n" He practically whined, moaning loudly with you when he started to feel you milk his cock, fluttering and squeezing him as your orgasm washed over you.

"BUCKKYY" You screamed his name as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm, his movements growing sloppy.

"You feel so good doll, so so good, sweetheart-fuck-I'm cumming" Bucky moaned against your neck, stilling as his cock started to throb, his warmth splashing against your cervix. He rocked his hips a few more times till he was milked dry, collapsing into your arms and rolling over so he could pull the covers over you both.

You giggled to yourself, tucked snuggly in Bucky's thick arms, your cheek pressed right against his warm chest. Neither if you had spoken a word yet, basking in a post sex haze, cozy and content in each others embrace.

"What's so funny short cake" Bucky whispered, tipping your chin up to meet his twinkling eyes, a dusting of pink still covering his cheeks.

"You're so cuddly for a big scary assassin" You teased, while he chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"S'not my fault" He playfully pouted before squeezing you tighter. "Can you blame me? Look at who I get to cuddle with"

You smiled, resting your head on his chest again, tracing invisible shapes onto his skin while he stroked your back, his heart starting to beat faster as he began to speak again.

"This-what happened between us-

You froze, stopping your ministrations, dread pooling in your chest over Bucky's words.

Had you misread the situation?

Oh god, you did, he didn't actually like you, you-

"It wasn't just a one time thing for me. I've liked you for a long time short cake-" Your spiral stopped immediately, looking at him with wide eyes, only to find him nervously chewing his bottom lip raw. "I don't- I don't know if you feel the same way but I'd love for you to be mine-if you'd have me"

His last words melted into a whisper, still looking at you with precious shyness, your heart ready to burst out of your chest at how soft he was for you. Your surprised him, smashing your lips against his, the adorable squeak slipping past his lips turning into a groan.

"You like me?" You grew bashful, tucking your face into his neck, giving the young soldier his confidence back, a smirk playing on his lips. "Like me like me?"

"Course darlin' you're my best girl" He kissed your forehead before rolling you over and attacking you with kisses again, the both of you grinning at each other with heart eyes,

"My favorite little short cake"

"My Bucky bear"

1K notes · View notes

strongheartneteyam · 5 months

Text

A New Beginning.

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x female!human!reader/female!avatar!reader

cw: lots of fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, slightly sexual language, kissing, hugging, tsaheylu is mentioned, TRIGGER WARNING for brief talk of death (of Reader's human body), Jake and Neytiri being the best in-laws ever

@anika-rose-walker Here's your request after ages lol I'm so sorry, boo 😅

I changed the plot from what you asked a little bit (Neteyam and Reader are already together, instead of confessing to each other throughout the story) bc I had already written the beginning of it when I went back and read the rest of your request lol I hope you don't mind. I love you sm and I hope you like it, my lovely Kayla 💕

PS: in this story, going through a transference of consciousness from a human body to an Avatar is not as dangerous as it used to be because it has been done many times before. I have no idea if it makes sense but pls just go with it for the sake of it being easier to write 🥲 my wrist hurts so bad

na'vi words: tsaheylu (neural bond that the na'vi make with their mate), yawne (beloved), yawntu (loved one), paskalin (sweet berry), muntxate (female mate), muntxatan (male mate), oeyä (my, mine), sevin (pretty), tawtute (human)

Not proofread. Sorry if some parts are a bit off but I can't fix it rn lol

༉‧₊.

The suns of Pandora were shining bright in the sky that day but nothing was brighter than your smile. You were overcome with happiness as what you had been anticipating for so long was finally gonna happen: you were getting your own Avatar, a body that would let you experience Pandora without that damn oxygen mask that held you back, not letting you breathe the fresh air and worse, not letting you kiss your na'vi boyfriend Neteyam unless you two were inside the lab. You were the daughter of one of the best scientists of the laboratory so you always spent a lot of your time there, but Neteyam was a busy young man and he couldn't visit you at the lab everyday which sucked. You were so addicted to him that spending even a single day without feeling his plump blue lips on yours, his soft and wet tongue lapping and sucking on your tongue felt like a kick in the stomach. You truly felt lovesick whenever it happened. Talk about a strong love and being needy for someone.

You were walking through the Omatikaya mainland, where all the people's huts were, and looking for your boyfriend. You hadn't told him you were gonna get an Avatar. You wanted it to be a surprise. Your brain could not comprehend that you would finally be able to make tsaheylu with Neteyam. Tsaheylu, man! Imagining being able to feel his affection for you through the bond, his need and desire, feel the pleasure he was feeling as the two of you mate… that felt otherworldly and so incredibly exciting. It's a connection beyond what your human brain could comprehend, honestly. Only your na'vi brain would be able to fully understand it.

Neteyam ended up finding you before you could find him. There was a sea of tall blue aliens around.

“Sevin tawtute!” He called out to you loudly, his voice excited

When your ears heard that beautiful voice and your eyes saw his large figure, you ran to his arms and held him tight, your head only reaching his waist, so much taller he was than your human frame. You wondered the height difference you two would have once you were Dreamwalking.

“Oooh! I'm glad you're this happy to see me, muntxate!” Neteyam put his big hands on your head and pet your hair softly.

“Teyam, I got something wonderful to tell you!” You looked at him, as happy as a kid who just got a gift they'd been waiting for ages to get

Neteyam got down on his knees to cut your height difference almost in half.

“What is it?” He smiled, his fangs charmingly touching his lower lip

“My father just told me earlier today that my Avatar is ready.” Your eyes shone like stars in a dark night sky

“Your what?!” His striped blue face betrayed his surprise

Neteyam's heart started beating fast. Was his yawne truly telling you what he thought she was?

“Are you serious, princess? Why didn't you tell me about it? My Eywa…” he chuckled, still incredulous

“I wanted it to be a surprise! I wanted to see this beautiful surprised look on your face, muntxatan.” You look so cute. I love you so much.” Your eyes started to water

Neteyam smiled even wider. He took your oxygen mask off and quickly used both his large hands to grab your face and crushed his lips against yours, before putting it back on again.

❦︎

You opened your eyes and your vision seemed to be better as you tried to get used to the bright white artificial lights of the Avatar first testing room in the lab.

“How are you feeling, (y/n)?” Your hearing was surely much sharper as you heard those words coming from a nurse's lips in a much louder volume than you would in your human body.

You moved your fingers and raised your hands up next to your face so you could look at them. Your fingers were blue and your wrist had some bioluminescent freckles on it. God, your skin looked much more beautiful now than it did in your human body. You were afraid you were already liking this body much more than your original one.

Your focus was so much on your new experience in your Avatar that you forgot to answer Julia's - the nurse - question.

“Can you hear me, (y/n)?” You got out of your trance and finally looked at her

“Yes. Yes, I can! Really well, by the way.” You smiled at her. Your fangs touching your lip was a new sensation, a really cool one.

After the scientists and nurses ran some tests with you on your new Avatar, you finally were able to change from your hospital like clothes and went out of that cold room wearing some dark jeans shorts and a simple white sleeveless shirt made of a cotton like material.

You saw Neteyam sitting in one of the brown sofas in the next room. His beautiful face looked tense.

All his tension faded away as soon as he saw you. His pretty yellow eyes shone as he took your appearance in. Neteyam didn't think he could ever fall even deeper in love with you but that had just happened.

“Oeyä muntxate… you look breathtaking. Oeyä sevin yawne…” he walked slowly towards you, still enchanted by the sight of your Avatar body

Neteyam held you by your waist, bring you close to him and gave you the most tender of kisses. You kissed him back, your lips almost trembling with happiness and affection. Neteyam tasted your mouth, his tongue licking not only your tongue but your fangs too, exploring your new na'vi body. He loved how similar you were to him now just as much as he loved the differences between the both of you when you were in your human form.

❦︎

Some weeks passed and you had never been more happy. A short period of time lived being able to Dreamwalk and kiss Neteyam in the woods, on the Sully's hut and in any other place you wished to brought you much more joy than all the years you lived before.

You and Neteyam were standing in front of the lab. You two were about to say goodbye and you would wake up in your human body. But there was a feeling inside of you that you had been haunted by for some time now and it was getting harder and harder to fight it. You finally spilled it out.

“I think I wanna leave my human life behind and become one of the people. If they will have me. If you will have me…” somehow you felt insecure, as if you forgot how happy Neteyam got whenever you were by his side

Surprise was all over his face.

“Are you sure of what you're saying?”

“Yes, I am. I've never been more sure of anything in my life. I know it seems sudden… I'm tired of being human… I'd much rather be your mate and learn archery, learn to cook na'vi recipes, worship Eywa, participate in the sacred rituals, run free in the woods instead of worrying about human social rules, live among artificial lights, eat junk food - don't get me wrong, you know I love some good hamburgers” Neteyam laughed at your remark “but fresh hunted meat, seasoned with herbs and wild spices tastes much better. Also…” You looked into his large feline eyes “I wanna spend more time with you, I wanna live in our own hut… I wanna be always by your side, my Teyam. I hope you don't find me too needy.”

“Of course not, yawntu. The more you need me, the better ‘cause I need you too. So much.”

He stole a happy smile from you with those words.

“And, yawne… How could you ever doubt if I will have you be na'vi and always be with me, live in our own hut? Darling, that's all I've ever wanted. Only Eywa knows how many nights I've talked to her, wishing that it could happen one day.” His voice was full of heartfelt truth

You breathed out, relieved.

“We can talk to my dad about it. He's been through it himself before, I'm sure he can be of great help.”

You nodded and smiled “Okay.”

❦︎

After Neteyam took you to talk to the Olo'eyktan of the Omatikaya tribe, his dad Jake, his tired face lit up and he smiled, showing no teeth or fangs at first.

“You sure of it, kid? It's a big deal. Your human body is gonna die and that can be really traumatizing to your head.

“I know, Mr Sully. I've thought about that. I can deal with it if it means getting to live as one of the people forever.” You said sternly

“You're also gonna make a big commitment by becoming na'vi. You're gonna have to learn to be use weapons, to haunt, to be fearless. You're gonna have to prove yourself worthy and go through your Ikinimaya before being truly considered one of the people. Are you up for it?” He looked like a mix of a father giving some life lessons to his kids, like a military chief of some kind and like a fierce leader. All three were indeed a part of him.

“Yes. I will do my best to prove myself worthy of becoming na'vi.”

Neteyam watched the two of you, some tension inside of him, as he felt like maybe his father was being too harsh on you, but he also knew he was doing what he had to as the Olo'eyktan and as someone who had once made the same decision you were making now and knew very well what he was talking about.

“Then you have all my support!” Jake finally smiled wide and opened his arms towards you “give me a hug, kid.”

You gladly walked until you got to where he was squatting - not that far from where you were sitting cross legged before - and hugged your father-in-law.

Neteyam smiled too.

“Thank you, Dad.”

When it came the time to talk to Neytiri, things went smoother than you had imagined. It seemed like a dream, in all honesty.

“You do whatever your heart tells you to do, paskalin.” Neytiri smiled at you “I believe Eywa herself chooses every human who decides to become one of the people. How could you say “no” to a request coming from the Great Mother?”

Your brain could not come up with words to describe how happy and relieved those words coming from your mother-in-law made you.

❦︎

Talking to your dad broke your heart a little. Your mother had died and you were his only family now.

“I just don't wanna lose my little girl.” Your dad was now sniffing. You felt bad as you never saw him cry.

“I'm not leaving you, Dad! I'm gonna visit you all the time! You're always gonna be my Dad. And you can always visit me when you have some free time, too.” You tried to comfort him by holding his hand as the both of you sit in your bed, in your bedroom

“I know. It's just not gonna be the same. And I'm gonna miss your beautiful human body. I'm gonna miss the girl I've raised since she was a little child.” You felt a stab in your heart. You honestly had not thought how much of a shock it would be to your dad to see your human body die. You felt a little selfish.

“She's still gonna be here.” You touched the place where your heart was, inside your chest “My soul will not change. I'm still gonna be me.” You looked into his eyes, trying to convince him of that

“I know. I just want you to be happy and if that's how you're gonna find your true happiness, I'd never try to be on your away.”

“Thank you, dad. I love you.” You hugged him and he felt a little better

You eventually broke the hug.

“I want you to come to my transferring of consciousness ceremony. Can you try and find some time on your busy scientist schedule to come and see your daughter wake up in her new body?”

“I wouldn't miss it for the world!” He gave you a supportive smile

The next step would be your transferring of consciousness ceremony. Mo'at seemed utterly happy to perform it. She wasn't that affectionate but you could read her feelings in her big amber eyes.

That night you slept in peace, knowing that the next time you would go to sleep again, you would be in your then permanent na'vi body and inside Neteyam's arms, your mate, the love of your life, probably making tsaheylu, as connected as you two could ever be. As one.

♡

Taglist:

@criticallybella

@yeosxxx

647 notes · View notes

buryustogether · 1 year

Text

lilac - chapter 8 + epilogue

miguel o’hara x f!reader

summary: the walls are crashing down, and even spiderman can’t hold up an entire universe.

wc: 6k

warnings/tags: smut, kidnapping, universe collapsing, torture, filming, blood, blade violence, explosions, choking, falling off a building, love confessions, major character death, start-overs

If you closed your eyes hard enough, if you flooded your senses with your deep, treasured memories and blocked out everything around you, you were able to transport yourself back into last week. Last week, when Gabriella had crashed on the couch, and you and Miguel were lying in bed with chests heaving and sweat cooling across your necks. The bedside lamp was dim; the bulb needed to be changed. Outside, the city continued to thrive, churning and burning and spitting. But inside your bedroom, your hand clasped in his, the world was still.

He had rolled you over so that you lay on top of his broad frame, but he was still inside of you, soft and flaccid now that he’d finally chased his release - after giving you yours four times. You blinked tiredly, staring at nothing as you felt one of his long, thick fingers skimming over your back.

“I’ve been thinking,” you murmured against the warm, tan skin of his shoulder.

Miguel hummed, acknowledging your words. His fingers continued to graze across your skin, up and down, up and down.

“Obviously we’re… planning on staying together. For a long time. Right?”

Though he kept his eyes closed, his thick, full lips quirked upward into a smirk, allowing the tips of his fangs to poke into view. “Believe me, sweetheart,” he rumbled from deep in his chest. “I’m not letting you go anytime soon.”

His words stirred inside of you, like a new hope springing to life. “Well… we’re going to need to move. Someplace bigger, with more room. For all of us. And this city, Mig, it’s… it’s not safe.”

It was then that Miguel’s eyes opened, and that smile slowly disappeared from his lips. You felt your heart sink with them, like an anchor in your belly. “You’re talking about moving away?” he said. When you only lifted your head to look at him, chin resting on his sternum, he exhaled deep and moved his hand to begin carding through your hair. “I can’t leave, bebe,” he said softly. “You know why.”

Yes, you knew why. It was because he was Spiderman, and this was New York, the worst city in the country to live in. With criminals on every block and fires and shootouts and a sky so deeply and violently purple you’d never even known its true color.

Being a lover, a father, everything before and after and in between, was what made Miguel who he was. But that was only a part. That other half came from being a hero, from helping those who could not help themselves. Walking with a sense of pride in what he did, knowing that people had something to trust in.

And you knew he could never leave that.

So you swallowed thick and let the issue go. You sighed and wrapped your arms around his large, naked form, nestling your face into the soft, delicate spot where his throat met his chest. “Okay,” you said, and you felt him lean down to kiss the crown of your head. “I’d still like a bigger place, though. Your daughter can’t sleep on the couch forever.”

Miguel chuckled, wrapping a sinewy arm around your middle to keep you close while you both dozed off. “I think we can do that.”

You were suddenly brought back to the present when, behind the glass partition you were facing, the giant, hulking machinery moved a few inches before coming to a halt. The metal groaned and squealed, startling the little girl held tight against your chest. Gabriella was heavy, and your arms were beginning to grow tired, but you would hold her until the end of time, if you needed to.

The Alchemax viewing area was dim and dark in the corners of the room, illuminated only by the glow of the control panel to your right and the stark, white lights projected onto the molecular collider in the lab. It was a massive piece of machinery, built to withstand its own otherworldly power, armored and bolted to the ground should the walls and ceiling be blasted away into nothingness.

You turned slightly when the collider moved again, twisting and turning in on itself, and Gabriella released a small, pitiful cry against your shoulder. Twisting your expression into a sneer, you fixed the man at the control panel with the meanest look you could muster.

Doctor Octopus - Otto Octavius, a visionary genius turned terrorist after his mechanical arms took over his head - lifted his head slightly and let his shades slip down his crooked nose. In return to your harsh frown, he gave an apologetic expression that carried no genuinity whatsoever. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he said as one of his arms reached out to flip a few switches. “Just a few test runs.”

Shifting Gabriella’s weight to your hip, you glanced down and smoothed the girl’s hair from her face. She was still wearing her jacket that she would have put on at recess - they must have been watching the school, waiting for her to emerge from those brick walls so that they could snatch her up. Suddenly you were cursing yourself, wishing you could face your reflection in a mirror and shatter the glass with a fist. You could have been there. Could have made sure she was safe, she was secure.

Her being here was your fault.

And her being here meant something that made your veins turn to ice when you thought about it; they knew who Spiderman really was.

When the collider began to shift again, shaking the building slightly in its very foundations despite being here in the basement of the building, you turned your head to face Octavius again. “What exactly are you all planning to do with this thing?” you said, watching as he shifted across the control panel to reach a few buttons and scanners. “I heard it wasn’t ready for tests yet.”

“From who, darling?” he said, meeting your eyes over the rims of his shades. “A spider on the wall?” When you said nothing, averting your eyes to the floor, he hummed and continued on, allowing his mechanical arms to carry him over to a large monitor. His gloved fingers typed faster than you thought possible for a person. “Alchemax is playing a dangerous game with a toy they don’t understand. Tests mean nothing when dealing with a piece of the future like this. That Spiderman of yours told you about the multiverse, didn’t he?”

Told you about it. Explained it. Came from it.

Octavius raised a finger and beckoned you toward him. You hesitated, holding your breath, before silently padding across the observation area to stand behind him at the monitor. Squinting your eyes against the light, you watched as he gestured to a warping, live image of string-like animations repeating in a loop on the screen. “These,” he said, finger grazing along the lines, “are realities close within one another. They’re different, sure, but only in little ways. Someone’s eyes are a different shade. A grain of sand is misplaced a foot from where it landed. Again - little ways.” He used the touchpad of the computer to scroll outward, giving you a view of so many lines warping together it looked like almost an entirely colored screen. “And these are the realities within our grasp with the collider. Meaning -” he looked down at you - “every reality in the multiverse.”

You stared at the screen, hugging Gabriella to yourself tightly. One of those lines was Miguel’s reality. Where he was supposed to be.

As Octavius scrolled back in, you caught a glimpse of a line flickering and glitching, unlike the others. You stopped him. “That one,” you said, and he halted. “What’s that one?”

“Earth - 9193,” he said, his voice low and grave. He met your eyes, his gaze darker than it was just a moment ago. “Our home universe.” He gave a rather rueful smile as he watched your expression melt into one of confusion. “In our reality,” he explained as his mechanical arms set him - finally - on the ground, “there is no Spiderman. This city - it’s not supposed to get better. So imagine the universe’s bafflement when Spiderman from a different reality swoops in to save the day. It tries to expel him. Tries to correct canon events gone wrong. But it couldn’t. And so - it’s collapsing.”

“Collapsing?”

“Correct.” He paused and you both looked up when, overhead, there came a distant boom; the city falling apart at the seams. The building shook again and dust fell from the ceiling. To your surprise, he lifted one of his arms and shielded your head as it bounced off your shoulders and clung to your hair. “Call us selfish,” he said and lowered his arm again. “But my associates and I aren’t particularly fond of sticking around when the end comes around.”

You blinked a few times at the screen, feeling your heart skip a beat or twelve as you let his words sink in. Your universe - it was collapsing. That was what the glitches in the city had been. That was why Miguel’s apartment building had folded in on itself - it was because of him. No matter where he went, the glitches followed.

Because he was a virus here in your reality, and when viruses could not be expelled, the system would ultimately kill itself.

You clutched the little girl in your arms a bit tighter. “You’re… running away,” you murmured as Octavius fiddled with the monitor and its data. “You’re leaving us all here to die.” The words were barely able to clear your throat, barely able to keep themselves afloat.

He hummed in that way you noticed he did. “Running away wouldn’t be the correct term,” he replied. “Moreso… self-preserving.”

At that moment, the doors leading into the observation area were thrown open on their hinges to reveal the figures you had come to fear striding into the bay. You took three steps back as the Prowler slid down a railing and came to a smooth landing at Octavius’ side. “How are we looking, Doc?” he said as his purple, eye-lit mask dematerialized to reveal his face. His gaze was a touch crazier than you remembered it, bold and wild in a way that screamed danger.

Octavius’ cold, stony facade slid back into place as he adjusted his shades and rose, his mechanical arms lifting him off the ground. “Swimmingly,” he replied. “A few more tests, and she should be ready for lift off.”

“Perfect!” shouted Ferris abruptly, causing you to jump slightly. He clapped his hands and approached you as, behind him, Kraven hefted a news broadcasting camera onto his shoulder and began to fiddle with the settings. “Sorry to keep you waiting, babe,” said your ex as he approached you, taking two steps forward when you took one back. He showed off a disturbing, unnatural smile. “Had some loose ends to tie up.”

You sneered at him and turned, placing yourself between him and Gabriella. “You’re fucking insane, Ferris,” you hissed, inches from his sickening grin. “Taking me is one thing, but a kid? You’ve lost it, for real this time.”

“Big words, coming from you,” he said, tilting his head as the collider twisted and churned again. “Shacking up with a vigilante who crossed realities to dick you down.” He snickered to himself. “Listen, babe. That day when Spiderman - sorry, O’Hara - cracked my spine and broke my jaw and left me to suffer in that fucking alley, I realized something; why stick around in a dump like this when I can make like your little fuck buddy and squeeze myself into another dimension? Hell, why do I need you when I can just find another one of you who won’t screw me over?

“So I managed to get myself up. Crossed paths with these guys, told them…” He brought his lips close to your ear, so close you felt his breath fan across your skin. “I knew the identity of Spiderman.” He grinned again, drew back slightly to touch his forehead against yours. You would have smacked him, shoved him away, were you not still shielding the little girl in your arms. “I would say it’s not personal, babe,” he whispered. “But it is.”

Then his lips were smashed against yours, so roughly and ruthlessly you were flashed back to when you still lived with him, let him touch you, let him fuck you. He would always kiss you like this, like he possessed you, like he owned you. It only lasted a moment or two before he pulled back, forcefully plucked Gabriella from your arms, and handed her off to the Vulture, who was standing beside Octavius.

“Alright, boys,” he said as his mask materialized back over his face. “Let’s make a movie!”

Taking a few steps closer and backing you up against the glass partition of the observation area, Kraven hoisted the camera up and pointed it directly at you and Ferris. You found yourself frozen in place, petrified and staring back at your own reflection in the lens. His clawed hand came up to grip the back of your neck, and the other clapped over your mouth.

“Stick to the script,” he murmured in your ear, “and I’ll let the kid live.”

“Broadcasting to every system in New York,” said the hunter, then clicked a button and the camera and a light near the top flashed red. “...Now.”

Unbeknownst to you, across every screen in the city - televisions, phones, Times Square, everything - the broadcast crackled through and began to stream. There was not a soul in New York that was not watching.

Not one.

Ferris tilted his head at the camera in a way that made your stomach churn. Even behind his mask, you knew he was smirking and squinting his eyes in that way he did when he was playing coy. “Hello, Spiderman,” he said in a low, even voice. It sent chills crawling up your spine, made you struggle in his hold until his claws dug against your skin. “You and I have unfinished business, and it would be rude to leave hanging in the air - you know, before we both jump ship. You know where I am.” Behind you, the collider moved, and this time, it did not stop. A blast of energy exploded from the edge, shaking the building again. You stumbled slightly, raising a hand to clasp at his wrist over your mouth. “And just in case you need some incentive…”

You let out a small shriek when Ferris ripped you forward, sending you spinning around to face the camera. Before you could get anything out, he came up behind you like a vengeful apparition and grabbed your jaw, his claws digging into the soft skin of your cheeks. “Go on,” he murmured in your ear, just loud enough for the camera to pick up. “Cry for help. Cry for him.”

Against every ounce of willpower you had, because you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, you felt tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. Just a moment later, they spilled over, cascading down your cheeks and staining the fabric of his glove. Yet despite your tears, despite the silent sobs racking your body, you refused to speak.

Ferris dug his claws into your cheek further, drawing a few dots of blood and pinpricks of searing pain. “Come on,” he whispered against the shell of your ear. “Beg for him.”

Your eyes turned behind the camera, where the Vulture held Gabriella’s collar in a grip tight enough to pale his knuckles. She stood beside him like a confused puppy, tear tracks staining her face as she watched you. And you knew you couldn’t do this alone. Not with her here. Not with Ferris.

“Spiderman,” you breathed, then cried out when Ferris yanked your hair to expose your neck and poise a claw over your throat. It gleamed in the light that the collider was throwing about the lab, shaking and burning out energy.

“Ah-ah,” he tutted. “His real name.”

You didn’t have time to mull over the realization that you were going to expose his identity, didn’t have time to think about that, really, it wouldn’t matter, because your reality was tearing apart, anyway. Blood collected on your cheek where his claws dipped in, and pain seared through your face.

“Miguel!” you finally wailed, feeling your tears mix with the scarlet. “Mig, we need you - please! He has Gabriella. I need you, please, Mig, I need you!”

With a grunt, Ferris spun you to the ground, then stalked forward and grasped the camera by the lens. “Come and get your girls, O’Hara. Alchemax. You have until the universe collapses. Or, you know…” He trailed off as his mask tilted downward toward you. “I decide to let one of them go a little early.”

You found yourself sitting against the row of desks holding computers, cradling Gabriella to your side as you watched Ferris and the rest of the vigilantes watch the collider charge, murmuring amongst themselves. You heard the words ‘sensors’ and ‘turrets’ and ‘muzzle for those teeth’ and ‘dead before he hits the ground.’ They had planned for Miguel, were waiting for him.

Gabriella murmured your name - the first thing she’d uttered since you both had been brought here - and you at once looked down. She clutched onto your dress, her cheeks stained with tear tracks and her chest rising and caving with deep, panicked breaths. “Is Daddy going to come and save us?” she whispered.

Doing your best to shove down the dread, and sorrow, and grief hanging suspended in your throat, you put on your best wobbling, warped smile and brushed her hair back from her face. “Yeah, sweetheart,” you replied quietly, just barely audible over the sounds of the collider. You sniffled, holding her closer. “He’ll be here any minute.”

It couldn’t have been just a few minutes later when, from the corner of your eye, you saw one of the computer screens jump to life. You thought it to be chance, a touchpad disturbed by the constant shaking and rattling of the building, but then images began to flash across the screen. You turned your head and realized they weren’t images, but letters. Words - being typed out across the monitor.

Letter by letter, your name was spelled out. The cursor blinked for a moment before everything was deleted. Then -

H E R E.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you leaned forward. The word was typed again, this time in bold. Then in italics. The computer - no, someone behind it - was beckoning you forward. With a few words of reassuring nonsense in Gabriella’s ear, and a quick glance to make sure the men were still distracted, you crawled on your hands and knees along the row of computers. Sitting up on your heels, you faced the dim screen.

Hesitantly, you whispered, “Hello?”

The word disappeared, soon replaced by another. L Y L A.

Lyla - Miguel’s AI. A surge of hope flooded through you like a tidal wave, filling your veins, your heart, your soul.

H E I S C O M I N G.

You exhaled, blinking at the screen. Then -

D U C K.

Your body reacted before your mind even had a chance to catch up. The entire world seemed to move in slow motion as you scrambled to your feet, grabbed Gabriella and huddled behind the desk - just moments before the back wall blew outwards in a ground-shaking eruption. The glass partition shattered and the collider shrieked as debris rained upon the observation area like hail from a hellstorm. A chunk of rock sliced across your cheek, letting pain rip through your face and blood spill down your face.

Like a train unable, unwilling to stop, to keep from plowing into the first thing it saw, a flash of red and blue came tearing from the site of the explosion and collided with the purple figure of the Prowler as he struggled to his feet. They went sprawling across the rubble-covered deck, only separated when a mechanical arm grabbed the back of Spiderman’s leg and hurled him across the room.

He caught himself and landed in a striking pose - then his mask dematerialized, and Miguel’s scarlet eyes raised to the men before him. He opened his mouth, exposing those long, glinting teeth, and released an animalistic snarl that froze the blood in your veins. His hair was mussed and the lines beneath his eyes seemed deeper than before. His hands, his claws, practically trembled with the rage and fury radiating off of him in waves. In that moment he was truly more beast than man.

You shielded Gabriella’s eyes as he snapped, standing again to his full height.

“About time,” said Ferris behind his mask, then readied his own steel claws. “Let’s settle this once and for all - Spiderman.”

The next few moments were blurs of violence, of villains with metal limbs and wings and a thirst for blood all came down to assault Miguel where he stood. He was a whirlwind of action, taking blows and giving them back in a tempo you knew was not humanly possible. His teeth sank into skin. His claws tore through muscle. He roared and thrashed and fought for everything he had, because life outside may have been falling apart, but his entire life was right there inside that observation bay.

Bits of light poking through the still-settling dust from the explosion drew your eye away from the nauseating fight, pulling your attention to the place where the door used to be. Flickering from the corridor - the exit.

Gripping Gabriella’s hand so tight you knew it ached, but you didn’t care, you brought your face close to hers so that she could look into your eyes. Blood still seeped down your cheek, now staining your collar and your neck. “Listen to me,” you said to her, just audible over the sound of her father snapping one of the Vulture’s wings in half. “We’re going to run, okay? And we’re not going to look back. You hold my hand and don’t let go. Just like we practiced with the drills at school, alright?”

She nodded her head, and then you were off. You ducked your head as a piece of technology sailed past, tugging the little girl along over rubble and through the shattered doorway. From there you took the first stairwell you found, listening as the sounds of the battle grew more and more faint. Up and up you went, until you reached a heavy metal door that you shoved open with all your might. Gusts of wind rushed in to greet you, whipping your dress skirt about, whispering about your fate in your ears, and when you reached the roof, it seemed that, really, they were right.

New York was no longer recognizable. It had turned into a hellsite of glitches and chaos, entire streets folding in on themselves before completely vanishing. You nearly screamed upon realizing Harlem, Queens, Brooklyn… they were all gone. From this height you could see past where the river was supposed to be, but instead it was all… nothing. There lay a vast, wide nothingness, like a blank canvas. No ground. No buildings. No people. Everything, just… erased from existence.

Panic rose in your throat like bile, pulling you to your knees and fresh tears to your eyes. It was all true - your reality was collapsing in on itself. All those people, gone. And soon, you would be, too.

It was a long moment before you realized Gabriella was tugging on your hand, attempting to pull you further along the roof as she kept her terrified gaze trained on the door to the roof - until it was too late. You both shrieked as the Prowler emerged from the frame, his suit ragged and torn, stained with blood and his mask vanished. Scarlet ran down his face, same as yours, as he approached you on the roof.

“You want to know something funny, babe?” he said. The last word, that awful pet name, was rasped through clenched teeth as he stalked you, taking his time even as you scrambled to the edge of the building, because you both knew - you had nowhere to go. “I wasn’t really going to kill you in that alley. Just wanted to scare you, ‘ya know?” His face dropped. “Now I really wish I had.”

In a moment, Ferris had pounced, rolling you over and over yourself on the roof of Alchemax, his clawed hands tight around your throat and his knees on either side of your waist. No matter how much you struggled, how much you kicked and screamed and wailed and bucked, he refused to let go.

How ironic, came a quiet, barely-there voice. Even while it dies, the universe is attempting to fix itself.

As tears blurred your vision, you shifted your gaze to Gabriella, who watched the life being strangled from you with wide, petrified eyes. To Gabriella, who suddenly clutched at her stomach, her lips parting. To Gabriella, who, slowly, like a channel stuck on a loop slowly fading out, began to dissolve into a reality-splitting glitch.

To Gabriella, who was there one moment, and gone the next.

For a moment, you stopped your struggling. You stopped trying to grasp at Ferris’ own throat, stopped your kicking and howling. You just lay there, feeling the life drain from you slowly, staring at the spot that little girl had been just seconds ago.

You would have cried, could you have breathed. You would have screamed, could you have breathed.

You would have died inside - could you have breathed.

“Isn’t this romantic?” panted Ferris over you as his hands tightened their grip on your throat. “The two of us, going out together? Like we were always meant to?”

You knew he would have killed you then and there, had you both not heard the thundering, storming, ground-shaking thuds pounding up the stairs leading to the roof. Footsteps. A body being slammed into the walls as they ran. An ear-splitting, heart-skipping roar of your name.

Ferris let out a long, trembling, exasperated groan before he yanked you up by the neck, hauled you over to the edge of the building, and held you out like a lure over a lake. Your hands, your nails, scrabbled at his wrist as you looked down the best you could, watching as people stories and stories below scrambled for cover before glitching out of existence. Your legs dangled, your hair blew in the wind.

This was it. This was how you bit it. Not from strangulation or being winked out of your reality - but from a drop that would hit you before you knew what had happened.

Slamming out onto the porch in a frenzy of raw, untamed, wild fury, Miguel skidded to a stop and began to lunge at the Prowler - before he laid eyes upon your form at the end of his arm. His gaze searched wildly for his daughter, for his Gabriella, before it met yours. Before it took in the tears spilling down your face.

“Don’t you see what you’ve done to us, O’Hara?!” said Ferris, flexing his fingers around the column of your neck - the only thing keeping you from plummeting. “What you’ve done to our world?! Can’t you just leave us this last bit of ourselves before we all kick it? Can’t you just leave us alone?”

Miguel began to pace on the rooftop, edging closer and closer with each step. “I can offer you a bargain,” he said, but his voice came out more snarl than word. “Give her to me and I send you home. To a different home, one just like this. You’ll never know the difference.” His tone dropped. “You’ll think you’re in the real thing.”

Your legs were beginning to go numb, your fingers clawing at Ferris’ wrist losing feeling. One hand dropped to your side.

Ferris shook his head, sneering at him with all the hatred left in this collapsing, dying universe. “You already took my world,” he said. “So I’ll take away yours.”

And suddenly you were falling. Released from his grasp, because in the split moment after he let you go, his body glitched and jumped and disappeared. But you were still there, plummeting toward what remained of the earth below you.

You didn’t think it would be so fast.

Craning your neck against the wind screaming in your ears, against the sight of the Alchemax building beginning to crumble as it, too, succumbed to the fate of all else, you watched as that familiar suit of red and blue jumped off after you. Extended his arm. Released a web that, you thought, wouldn’t get there in time.

But it did. The webbing clung to your chest, pulled taut, buoyed you like a bungee cord as Miguel stuck himself to the side of the building that was still standing. He slowly lowered you to the ground, then began the descent himself.

You stood. Extended a hand to him as he raced toward you.

Then fell as you lost the feeling in your legs, lost what it was to be still.

Miguel caught you before you hit the ground, skidding to his knees and gracefully pulling you into a cradle in his lap. “Hey, baby, hey,” he said in a strained, strangled voice. Red stained his temple, the crooked bridge of his nose. “Hey, I’m here. I’m right here.”

You realized then that you were crying again, letting sobs and wails rack your body, because you knew what was happening. You knew it because everything else of this world, of this reality, had vanished. Ceased to exist. It was just him, and you, and the sky overhead. Nothing else. And soon, you would be gone, too.

“Miguel,” you gasped, reaching up a shaky hand to paw at the side of his face. “Gabriella - I tried. I really, really tried, I’m sorry -”

“Shh, baby, I know. I know you did.” Through the wetness in your eyes, through the sensation of your lower portion becoming static and fuzz, you watched as tears pricked at his own eyes. They trickled from the corners, mixing with the grime and blood on his face, and he did not wipe them away. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

You cried and clung to him, desperate to hold onto the feeling of him. Of his hand cradling the back of your neck. Of his lips against yours. Of his body on your own. Of his laughter against your skin, and his fingers trailing across your back, and the warmth that spread through your chest when he smiled at you.

God, that smile. What you wouldn’t do to see it again.

“I don’t want to die, Mig,” you said, your voice wavering. You’d forgotten the feeling of your waist, of your belly. They were foreign to you. Glitched out. Going. Gone.

You did not jump when Miguel opened his mouth and released a stifled sob, his warm, salty tears dripping onto your face. “I know,” he shushed you through his own cries. “It’s going to be okay, alright? I’m right here, baby. I’m right here. You’re going to be okay.”

Arms dropped. Your chest stilled.

“Hey,” you said, nudging your nose against his when he leaned down to press his lips against your temple. He met your eyes, his forehead pressed against yours. “Look.” Your gaze tilted upward, upward, to the sky. He followed it. “No smoke.”

You were right. Without the buildings to churn out smog, without the people to feed the machines, without the universe to choke itself out… the sky had cleared. And it was not violet, or plum.

It was lilac.

Miguel dipped his head again, his lips quivering as you stared up at him. “I love you,” he said.

You would have said it back - were you not already gone.

He stared at his now-empty arms, eyes trained on the spot beneath him you had just been. There was no trace left. Nothing left behind, nothing to tell him you had even been there.

For a long, long moment, Miguel sat still, his chest heaving and his eyes wide and his lips parted. Then he dropped to all fours, shoulders shaking and knuckling the ground, and opened his mouth to scream. It was a wail heard in every corner of the empty universe, a cry that shattered everything of the nothing left. Filled with agony, and grief, and horror, and guilt. Again and again he screamed, fangs glinting and tears gleaming and throat hoarse.

When he at last could not take any more, he collapsed onto his side. Hands twitching. Chest shaking.

Nothing.

For a long while in that empty universe, it was still. Silent. Lilac.

Then, from behind Miguel, there came a voice. “Hey, boss,” said Lyla gently. “Ready to go home?”

—

Earth - 2943

New York

Roses, peonies, lilacs, irises… the bundles of flowers crowded your workstation at the back of your store like a wildflower field had grown right in the middle of the little shop on seventy-first. Greens and pinks and yellows and oranges filled your windows. Petals littered the floor like a chapel. Living walls carefully and lovingly-kept occupied the sides, a rainbow display of every flower and blossom one could name.

Your little flower shop was doing well - and you couldn’t have been more proud. You lived alone in your apartment just upstairs, your rent was on time, you didn’t have to work a second job at all to keep yourself fed.

Everything was perfect. As it should have been.

Your attention was drawn to the front of the store when the little bell above it chimed, signaling someone had just entered your shop. “One second!” you called around the corner, hurrying to clip off the remaining thorns from the blossoms. “I’ll be right there!”

When you were finished, you wiped your hands off on your apron, gathered the bunch of flowers up in your arms, and swept around to the front room. There, a man and a little girl - his daughter, no doubt, they looked almost identical - stood admiring the displays you’d set out just last night.

“Good morning!” you greeted them, carefully setting the bundle down. “Can I help you find anything?”

Brushing a bit of hair from your face, you were able to see the man more clearly. Your breath hitched in your throat; you were staring at the one of the best looking men you’d ever seen. Tan skin and cheekbones placed high on his face, full brows and lips, a sinewy body and a tapered waist… he was beautiful.

The man smiled at you - with his lips closed, but nevertheless it was gorgeous - and jutted out his hip to place his hand on. Oh, fuck, that was hot. “Just browsing,” he said kindly.

You found yourself unable to pull your gaze away from him. You could not say precisely what it was, but there was something that drew you to him. Like a magnet between walls, almost, yearning and needing to be closer.

When he realized you were staring, he smiled wider.

“Heh - sorry,” you said, shaking your head. You leaned over your counter as he meandered closer, letting his daughter marvel at your flowers. Up close, you were able to see the tired, exhausted lines beneath his eyes. “It’s just… have we met before? There’s just something about you…”

Unbeknownst to you, because he could never let you know, could never let you go… you had met before. In a different universe. In seven, to be precise. He had met you as a teacher, a stripper, a doctor, a thief, a hero, a villain… He’d seen you in every form your soul had to offer. And he would continue to do so. Because he wasn’t going to let you go.

Not then. Not now. Not ever.

He chuckled, his free hand reaching up to touch the delicate skin of his throat. “No, I don’t think so. First time in here.” He tilted his head, smiled at you. “But… I wouldn’t mind getting to know you better.” Then, like every other time before, and every other time that would come after, he stuck out his hand and said, “I’m Miguel. You are?”

tags: @mooomeadows @twentysomethingwereyote @screamforyani @fangirlreice7 @axdjelx @ornamentalnecromancy @faust-pda @ilikethemoon28 @mrm-pachypoda @wadafrick @natthernandez @bakgoktski @soupsexsunsalutationsss @roxannarichie @lovagirlxxx @soggyeyeballsss @yoyoyoyoyo55555 @sophipet @quaintii @lavnderluv @cookiezxx @euphorica @its-a-polyglot @nicalysm @maxi-ride @exzidss @crappwr0m @femme-is-dead @bitch-onthemoon @hier—soir @takayomi @kirke-is-my-name @d1lf-loverrr @might-be-a-rat @brooks-lin @maki-z @bookfreakk @act1839 @dollscircus @sleepingaway @anxietybutterfly @bioticboot @mxkn @freeingrebels @digitalcreature404 @aimee777 @hunnaye @blahbahed @cyanide-mustard @impettywhenyouare @mental-illness-is-my-friend @bobfood @jenniferdixon05207 @moonchild-cupcake @venomous-ko @marvelouslovely-barnes @syarblu @fruitcupsworld @soooooyesbutactually-no @hopefulcandywitch @elwyn7 @oh-theseus @thepanwiccan @takayomi @dreamingofbucky @yuuuumii @p1nkliquor @scammer-get-scammed @mlishe

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