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weird-is-life · 4 months

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Hiiii, I saw your post that you reopen your request. Can I please request Aaron Hotchner x reader where he found out that your seeing a guy in another department after he rejected you. It depends on you if you want a happy ending or not. Thank you so much, I hope you'll see this.

Ty for the request🥰! I changed it up a little to a accidental rejection🤭hope that's okay. Warnings: use of y/n, accidental rejection, swear words, jealous Aaron, happy ending(1.2k)

Aaron just randomly passes your office and notices you're not alone. There's a man leaning over your table, blatantly flirting with you, it's so obvious, that Aaron doesn't even need to hear it to know it's flirting. And seeing your shy smile at that makes it even worse.

He overhears a word 'date' and Aaron's face goes white. Some weird feeling raises in his chest, one, that he hasn't felt in a long, long time.

He can't look at it any longer, so he spins around on his heels and storms into his office. His usual frown deepened like 10 times.

Aaron is aggressively writing reports, slapping papers down onto the table and swearing at the 'stupid pens', that keep spilling under the pressure of his intense writing, the whole afternoon.

The team, of course, notices his sour mood, but they choose to simply let Aaron cool down, not wanting to be the ones under his deadly gaze.

It's almost evening, most of the people already left home, that somebody comes to check up on him. It's Penelope.

She nervously knocks on his door, " you can come in, Garcia." Aaron murmurs, not even looking up, from his paperwork.

"Thank you, sir," she steps awkwardly inside and stays quiet, trying to come up with the right words.

Aaron sighs and looks up at her, when he realises, she won't say anything if he doesn't encourage her, "what do you need, Penelope?"

She smiles at him sheepishly," sir, I just wanted to ask if-if you're okay?"

Aaron should have known, that that's why she's there.

But to answer her question? No, he doesn't really feel okay. There's jealousy boiling in his chest. He likes you, like a lot and-and he'd thought, that the feelings were mutual. That you liked him too and if he'd asked you on a date, you'd say yes.

Aaron's been trying to gather the courage to ask you out for weeks now. And seeing you with another guy just makes him wanna either punch something or dissappear somewhere for a long, long time.

Maybe he should have seen it coming, you've avoided him this whole week and Aaron didn't want to press you for an answer why. So maybe the guy is the why.

Aaron sighs for a second time and mutters," I'm fine."

Penelope raises her eyebrows, she obviously doesn't believe him," are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. You should head home, it's late," Aaron says and dives back into the paperwork, even if his mind is still on you. It has been the whole day.

"I will, sir, but you should go home soon, too," then she adds softly," and even if you are really fine....-I just want you to know, I'm here, always."

Aaron doesn't say anything in response, so Penelope wishes him a goodnight and turns to leave.

Something suddenly comes over Aaron and he stops Penelope as she nears the doorway," Penelope?"

"Yes, sir?"

Aaron hesitates, overthinking it," you're friends with y/n, right?"

Penelope's smile grows into a cheeky one, "best of friends, she's the best. I love her, why do you ask?"

Aaron runs his hand across his face," I just happened to pass by her office earlier and saw a guy there," Aaron hopes he won't regret asking her this in the future, " is-is she seeing him?"

Penelope, weirdly, glares at him, " and what if she is? Why do you care? You rejected her, sir, she's free to date anyone she wants to."

Aaron frowns so hard from the confusion, that his face might permanently get stuck that way from now on. What the hell is Penelope talking about? When did he reject you? Why would he even do that? That's impossible. He rakes his mind for an answer.

"What? Penelope, I didn't-" Aaron suddenly stops himself, remembering what she's talking about. He did it.

He did reject you. He's such a fucking idiot, he can't believe it. Last week, you and Aaron were just talking in the Bau's cafeteria. And out of nowhere, you asked him, all shy and nervous, if he wanted to grab lunch together. To Aaron's horror, he replied 'I don't have lunches, I don't have time for them' and he can remember your little, sad 'okay', and how you just quickly excused yourself and left.

He didn't fucking realise, you were asking him out. He was too distracted by your shy, pretty smile and also the current case they were working on, that he didn't catch on.

"Shit," Aaron curses, " I messed up, I gotta go." Aaron basically runs out of his office towards your, hoping you're still there. Penelope, on the other hand, stands there, smiling happily to herself.

To Aaron's luck, you are still there, packing your bag. Aaron knocks on your door to let you know he's there and let's himself in.

"Hi...-," you turn around with a smile, but it drops immediately after you see Aaron," Oh, h-hello, sir."

Aaron is a little hurt, that you are back to calling him 'sir' and not Aaron," hi, c-could we talk? Do you have a minute?"

You look uncertainly at him, but seeing him so desperate to talk, you nod a yes.

"Thank you," he says out of breath," first of all, I just want to say that I'm the biggest fucking idiot there is. I completely didn't realise that you were asking me out on a lunch, like a date. I was too distracted, but I'm not making excuses. I fucked up and I know that."

Aaron takes a big breath before he continues," I've been meaning to ask you out on a date myself for weeks now. And you did it before me and I completely missed it. I'm really sorry, y/n. I'm such an idiot. I wish I could go back in time and slap myself for it. Because I like you y/n, like a lot," Aaron confesses," but I know, I'm too late and that you're already seeing somebody else. I just....I just wanted you to know, how I feel."

You stand there with your eyes wide and your mouth a tiny bit open in shock. You thought, you were just imagining Aaron's feeling after he rejected you, but turns out you weren't. They are just as real as yours are.

You break a small smile," ask me."

Aaron looks baffled at you, "w-what?"

"You said, you've been meaning to ask me on a date. So....ask me."

"What? But what about the guy?"

"There's no guy, if you mean the guy from earlier, I rejected his invitation to a date. I'm not interested in him," the only guy you're interested in is Aaron," ask me?"

Aaron, finally, feels like he can breath normally after hearing your words and he even smiles at you, " y/n, would you like to go on a date with me? Only if you want to of course."

You bashfully look at him," I'd love to Aaron, but only if you make some time to have lunch with me."

Your cheeky smile is everything Aaron needs to know, that he's forgiven.

"I'll always make time for you, " Aaron reassures you, even if you both know that with the work he has, he can't promise that, but he does it anyway.

"Then it's settled," you smile at him happily and stand on your tiptoes to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Call me later, yes?" and with that you're gone, before Aaron even has the time to recover from your soft lips on his cheek.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner angst

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shoutaaizawas · 4 months

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↳ todoroki shoto x reader → ❝ice king❞

summary: the world sees shoto as a cold hero but you know that's the furthest thing from the truth. when you get hurt the world sees word count: 4k+ tags/warnings: friends to lovers, confessions, hurt/comfort, fluff, and light angst (with violence, blood mentions, injury mentions) a/n: alright that was way more than what i expected to write but i can't complain because it was fun to write.

masterlist

Shoto Todoroki is calm, cool, and collected almost always. Nothing seems to shake him even when put under extreme pressure. A good amount of public opinion believes he’s as icy as his quirk.

You aren’t one of those people. Shoto has been your friend since high school. You were quick to have a soft spot for him. His family or quirk didn’t intimidate you it was like you saw who he was from the start. He was warm and soft. He thought about others and cared for them even if he didn’t always show it through his words.

Now that you were both adults working as pro heroes you knew so even more now. Shoto had grown a lot, around his friends he would talk more and joke around. It was nice seeing him open up and enjoy life after all he had gone through with his family in his childhood.

Shoto was your best friend and even if people thought he was unshakable, you knew better. You could see it on rescue missions that were too close to losing the people in danger. How his eyebrows furrowed, the look in his heterochromatic eyes.

Shoto Todoroki while being one of the best heroes out there was just a man and he too felt the weight of the world at times.

Losing people on the job was never easy, even when it wasn’t your fault. You recall the night like it was yesterday. A fire broke out in a high-rise building. It was a bad night, heroes spread across the city busy with different disasters. It was you and Todoroki and an entire building. Considering the situation it was a miracle that more people didn’t die.

After escorting out groups and groups of people you went to help Shoto with the last few people. A young mother and her children. A heavy beam collapsed, separating her from her children. The smoke was thick and it all happened so quickly. You took the children and Shoto rushed to save her, but there was no helping it. The unstable floor fell out from below her and even as Shoto tried to do anything to keep her from falling it was useless. The building was deteriorating so quickly, the fire burning hot.

If he hadn’t been there you wouldn’t have made it out with the kids without his ice quirk.

You had kept the kids from seeing what happened but they knew when Shoto returned without her that their mother was gone. The scene outside, the kids crying as their father who had been at work returned. Having to tell him what happened. You were going to explain it when Shoto stepped in front of you telling the man what had happened to his wife.

It was devastating. Even though you had saved a building full of people it didn’t feel like enough as you watched the children cry in their father’s arms, watching him tear up trying to stay strong for his kids.

After being treated for smoke inhalation you found yourself at Shoto’s apartment. A place you were no stranger to. You were work partners and best friends. Of course, you had been here many times. For dinner, to help him when he was sick, you even had your own key for emergencies. Knocking on the door you got no reply. You knew for a fact he was home. Using your key you entered figuring this counted as an emergency.

Shoto sat on the couch with only the light of a small lamp. He had a glass of whiskey in hand. He looked drained. His head didn’t even turn as you entered.

“Shoto.” You said softly as you sat down next to him. His knuckles were white around the glass, his other hand clenched in a fist. You took his hand into yours, brushing your thumb over his cold skin. “You did everything you could, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Does it change the fact those kids have no mother now?” He said his voice was low. His voice was raw, hurting. You could hear the pain in it.

“No.” You said. “No, it doesn’t. At the end of the day doing our best with no mistakes sometimes still means that we lose people. We can’t save everyone and that’s the worst thing about being a hero. It’s not fair but it’s not your fault.”

His hand started to relax from a fist, he was still tense but it was a good start. “12, 323 people lived in that building, and 8,578 people were in the building when the fire started. All those people and we only lost one.” You said looking at him but his gaze was still on the wall. “If we were less prepared, if we didn’t work together well any other two heroes would have lost more than one person. I can guarantee it. The agency is in disbelief we saved so many being short-handed.”

“Does it stop the image of those children crying in their father's arms while he tries to hold it together?” You asked. “No, it doesn’t it never will. But we have to focus on the good and not only the bad. We’re only hurting ourselves if we don’t. How many families are together tonight because we saved them? How many couples reunited, grandparents that got out safely so they can see their family again? Lives saved, lives that get to spend another day doing whatever they want to because we saved them. There’s so much good.”

You pulled out your phone and open a social media app. “Look,” You said holding it up. A hashtag was trending thanking you both for saving people in that building. “Thank you for saving my sister, her family lives in that building. Thank you for saving my niece and her husband. Thank you for saving me and my parents.” You read some of them out.

“It doesn’t bring her back. It doesn’t change the grief that family carries now and always will but it gives us the whole picture.” You said.

Shoto’s gaze moved to you and you could see as a tear slipped from his eyes. Without a word you embraced him, holding him as he cried quietly against your shoulder. “Thank you,” He mumbled against you. You hummed in reply as you rubbed his back.

No, Shoto was not a uncaring man. He felt grief all too well.

Shoto was no stranger to anxiety either.

Doing publicity was never enjoyed by either of you but it was part of the job.

The good thing about Shoto being the head of his own hero agency meant that you could control the schedule. Rather than doing media throughout the year, you both plotted a way to get it over with.

Twice a year you did what you coined the ‘Biannual Media Marathon’. Was it horrible? Yes. Did you make it a silly event, of course? Have you made mugs and shirts to commemorate? Yeah.

The media marathon consisted of a full day, usually from six am to eight or nine pm of filming media, photo shoots, and interviews.

Was it an improvement? Probably not but it meant you didn’t have to do it any other day of the year and that was the way you and Shoto preferred it.

The morning would start with hair and makeup then you went to the local news stations to do interviews and even did satellite interviews. After you filmed videos for ads that would run through the year or other PSAs. Then the photo shoots. The hair, makeup, and outfit changes were like torture.

By the end of the day, you felt dead. Not only were you exhausted but your skin felt raw and your head hurt from people pulling at your hair.

The finale was late-night talk show interviews. Shoto had a much better poker face when it came to how over it he was. As the two of you sat in the green room you looked over at Shoto, who looked handsome in a trendy suit with his hair pushed back loosely. But the way his shoulders were slumped and a look in his eyes told you he was at the end of his rope.

Funny how two heroes who constantly trained to keep their stamina up for fights and rescues could be so defeated by a day of socializing and posing.

“Sho,” You said softly. “You good?”

His eyes snapped to you. “I’m exhausted.”

You gave him a soft look before moving to sit next to him. “Rest your eyes, I’ll wake you up when they’re ready for us.” You said.

He started at you for a moment before resting his head against your shoulder. After a moment you heard light snoring from him. You smiled.

Just like that with his eyes closed as he snored against you he looked at peace. The weight of his exhaustion was gone just like that.

Even Shoto Todoroki got tired. You were no stranger to it.

The world was a stranger to the feelings Shoto went through until today.

A battle against a dangerous villain was not an unusual thing for you two to face together. Generally, it was something you dealt with quickly. After working together for so long it was like second nature when you fought together.

All eyes were on the scene, news helicopters flying overhead as onlookers filmed on their phones.

It was clear from the start this wasn’t going to be an easy battle to win. Exchanging blows with the villain, fire, and ice rushing past you.

Exhaustion was starting to wear you down, the villain was trying to wear you both down so you got sloppy, so he’d have an opening. It worked.

Your vision goes black for a moment as you are launched back. When it returns you're on the ground, everything hurts, and the breath is knocked out of you.

A wall of ice covers you, Shoto is in front of you. There’s this look in his eyes you’ve never seen before. It’s distant and present at the same time. His eyes lock onto your stomach, you follow his gaze as his hand gently touches the blood that’s gathering there.

The blood drains from your face as you realize the wound is deep. You feel numb and you know that’s not a good sign.

“Shoto, you have to cauterize it.” You know it’s the last thing he would ever want to do, hurt you with his fire but if he doesn’t-

There are only moments before the villain turns on civilians. Only moments before you lose too much blood and your chances of surviving this get worse. In a second you both realize this is the only option. You take his left hand and place it on the wound.

It’s going to hurt, you know it will but if he doesn’t you could die. You will die.

With a look you nod at him, encouraging him. You know every fiber of him is against this but you also have known him long enough to know he’s come to the same conclusion as you have. It has to happen.

His right-hand brushes against your cheek, brushing away tears you didn’t know were there before stopping at your hand. Holding your hand with his right, he nods as he covers your wound with his left.

The scream you let out is deafening. You had wanted to hold it in, the last thing you wanted was to make Shoto feel worse but in this kind of pain, you had no control. It was quick, a flash of heat but the pain lingered.

“You’re okay,” Shoto’s voice cuts through the ringing in your head. His hands trying to comfort you in any way possible. “You’re okay.”

Shoto watches as you clutch at the burn, the blood still covering you, pooling around you. Your costume is torn and there’s a nasty bruise already starting on your face. He can tell you’re out of it, the pain overwhelming. He’s never seen you this hurt, he’s never seen you so out of it, so vulnerable.

Something in Shoto wells up, his face feels hot, and his head is swimming. There’s a rage in him he has never felt, he’s been angry before but this is different. He finally understands what people mean when they say they’re ‘seeing red’.

You watch as Shoto turns, a flash of red, and the ice wall he put up to protect you both is evaporated. His steps are slow as he approaches the villain. Any attacks launched at him are easily deflected by the flames roaring around him. A trail of ice followed him.

The only way you can describe the scene in front of you is feral. Shoto takes the villain down like it’s nothing. But he doesn’t stop there. He’s on top of the villain wailing on him. You can’t see from where you are but you're sure the villain is bloody.

Deku arrives on the scene and is quick to his friend’s side, pulling him off the villain and trying to get Shoto to return from wherever he is right now.

Kirishima is at your side, his always reassuring smile on his face as he picks you up. “Let’s get you to a doctor.”

Cauterizing the wound was the right choice, the doctor informs you as you lay in a hospital bed cleaned and bandaged.

“If he hadn’t you would have lost a lot of blood by the time you go help.” The doctor explained. “The scar will be worse but much better than chancing death. Your friend saved your life.”

Other than a lot of painful bruises and scratches your wounds are minimal. No head injuries either which is always great. Just bed rest for at least a week to let things heal up.

Shoto enters your room as soon as the doctor is done with you. Whatever state he was in earlier is still lingering around him.

His eyes on you are intent, looking you over as if to make sure you were really okay.

“Sho,” You said softly mustering up your best smile despite the exhaustion you felt and the pain medicine making you feel a bit lightheaded. “My hero,” You tease playfully.

Normally when you try and lighten the mood he follows but this time it doesn’t work. He lets out a heavy breath. You aren’t exactly sure what is bothering him. Of course, he just finished a rough battle and had to cauterize your wound but you weren’t sure of the specific problem.

“The doctors said you saved my life,” You said. “If you hadn’t I would have bled out too much by the time I got here.”

Shoto sits down in the chair beside your bed. He still looks so tense. So upset. His silence usually doesn’t bother you but right now you feel like something is wrong but you don’t know how to help it.

“I’m sorry-” You said, your voice a bit smaller now. “I know that must have been awful for you- to have to use your fire like that. I never would have asked but-”

“I’m not upset about cauterizing your wound.” He interrupts. “I know it was the only way to save you, I’m sorry it had to be done but the last thing you should be is worried about my feelings when you’re dying.”

“Oh,” You said. Now you were more unsure what he was upset about. “You still seem really upset, what’s wrong?”

“Seeing you hurt like that…” It sounds like he’s going to save more but he stops.

“Being hurt is part of the job,” You said, your tone light. Despite facing your own death not long ago you aren’t as bothered about it for some reason. Perhaps it’s easier to joke than face your own fears. “Besides, if I was gone you’d get a new work partner. I’m sure you’re tired of me at this point.” You tease.

Evidently, that was the wrong thing to say. His eyes snap to you and you see anger fill them. “That’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny,” You probably shouldn’t push but you aren’t in the best place to be making choices right now.

Shoto stands up, his chair sliding back loudly. You blink as he paces the hospital room.

“You don’t get it!” He shouted, his anger wasn’t directed towards you but rather out of his frustration. “I lost it out there. I’ve never felt like that. Like I couldn’t control my own body. I’ve never beaten a villain until I couldn’t recognize them.” His chest heaved, emotions running through him. “Closing that wound- that was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Hurting you like that-” His eyes were glassy, his voice caught in his throat. “But I knew it was the only way to save you.”

“I’m not upset because my coworker got hurt! Or even my best friend! I’m upset because I almost lost the love of my life and I never even told you!” A silence falls over the room like he’s surprised by his own words.

“What?” You stare at your best friend in shock.

“I love you.” This time his words are sure, his breathing evens. “I love you, I’ve loved you since we were in high school. You light up every day even when they’re really bad ones. You make even the most mundane or annoying things fun. You’re strong and your kind and you’re my everything.”

Shoto loves you?

Of course, you were close, of course, you worked together, and spent your free time together. And well you were close with his family and always attended events together. There wasn’t a part of your life that Shoto wasn’t in. How often did you go over to his place and make him dinner? How often did he bring you your favorite snacks and drinks during patrol? Was there ever really a moment that you weren’t with him or thinking about him?

Oh.

You loved Shoto.

Dating was always something you avoided. Going on awkward first dates. Trying to get to know someone. Figuring out if they were worth dating. It just was unappealing to you. You had always thought you didn’t have time for a romantic partner because of work but the truth was you thought that you already spent most of your time with Shoto. When would you have time with someone else?

Now you realize it was because Shoto already took the space in your life for a romantic partner. You never yearned for someone because you already had your person. You already had the person you wanted to share everything with.

You just hadn’t realized that was the case.

“I understand you don’t feel the same way, and I’m sorry if this makes things awkward.” He said. “I just can’t move forward without telling you. Not after I almost lost you.”

“Sho,” You said softly. “Come here.”

Shoto looks confused but he moves closer, you take his hand in yours as he sits on the bed facing you.

“I have to admit-” You said with a small smile. “I’m an idiot.”

“What do you mean?” He asked looking confused.

“I always thought that I didn’t need a boyfriend, I always wondered why so many people felt the need to find someone to occupy that space in their life.” You said. “But now I realize that it’s because I’ve had you. You’re with me at work, with me in my free time. We eat meals together, we go shopping together. I mean I go to your family dinners.” You laughed. “This whole time I had you.”

Your gaze is on him, it feels like you're seeing him for the first time. This man, he’s not just your friend- he’s your everything. And for the first time in your life, you have this all-consuming urge to kiss him.

“I love you, Shoto.” You said. “I think I’ve loved you for a long time I was just too blind to see it.”

Shoto smiles at you and it’s blinding. You’ve never seen him so happy before. You move forward to be closer to him but you let out a hiss of pain. His expression turns into concern as he presses you back so you won’t hurt yourself.

“Can you come closer,” You said leaning back against your bed.

Shoto leans closer to you. It’s funny you’ve been this close to him before but it feels different now. It feels electric. “Is this better?”

“It is but-” You said raising your hand up to his cheek, gently brushing against his scar. “It’d be better if you kiss me.”

Shoto blushes but it doesn’t stop him from taking your face in his hands and leaning forward. His lips are soft against yours, eyes closed as his lips move against yours.

Your other hand moves to his neck and you can feel how fast his heart is beating.

He pulls back as you take a deep breath. It seems he can’t keep a smile off his face, it makes you smile despite the pain.

“I can’t believe I almost lost you.” He said. “I was so scared.”

There’s something about the rawness of his tone, it stirs up everything you kept down about this day. You almost died. You would have never had this realization that has changed your life course. You would have left Shoto heartbroken.

Tears well up in your eyes as you start to cry. Shoto is quick to comfort you. He pulls you close, holding you as you let it out. “It’s okay, you’re safe with me.” He coos into your ear. “You’ll always be safe with me.”

Once you calm down he slips into the bed with you, promising to stay with you overnight. You’re sure after his display today no one is going to tell him no.

Laying in the bed, his arm comfortably wrapped around you as you rest on his shoulder. You watch TV.

“Today a villain attack in the heart of downtown caused quite a stir.” The newswoman said. “When things started to look bad we saw top hero Shoto put on quite a display as he defeated the villain.”

The footage is even more crazy from the view from above. The flames around Shoto as the ice went haywire.

The footage jumps to an interview with a ‘hero expert’. “People consider Shoto to be a pretty stoic hero but today we saw an intense scene after his hero partner got injured badly.” They said. “It just goes to show how much more power we can see from these heroes when push comes to shove.”

You looked up at Shoto as he watched the TV. “I guess people won’t think of you as such an icy hero anymore.” You tease.

“I’m not icy.” He said.

“I know that.” You hummed, grabbing his hand in yours. “I think you are quite warm. Cozy even.” You smiled. He looked down at you with a heart-stopping smile. He looked at you with such endearment. “You’re just quiet but people don’t see the whole picture.”

“Like you do?”

“Yeah,” You smiled. “Shoto you’re kind and caring. You’re not this wall of ice that doesn’t falter. I’ve seen you take losses and I’ve seen you exhausted. You’re not this one note of a personality you’re so- so amazing and unique. There’s so much to you and they don’t even see a fraction of it.”

You lean up to press a kiss against his lips. “But I get to see it and I think that’s the greatest honor I’ve ever had.”

Shoto smiles at you as his had rests on your cheek as he pulls you in for another kiss. “You’re my heart.” He said. “You’re my everything.”

“I’m sorry I took so long to see it.” You said.

“It’s okay because this is just the beginning.” He smiled.

After cleaning up the mess that the battle made downtown and making sure the villain was squared away, Kirishima and Midoriya went to check to see how you were doing.

As they opened the door to your hospital room they saw Shoto in your bed, your head on his chest as his arms were wrapped around you protectively. Both of you were fast asleep. The two heroes smiled.

"Took them long enough," Midoriya said quietly as Kirishima laughed.

#mha #shoto x reader #shoto todoroki #todoroki x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #todoroki shoto #my writing

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heeliopheelia · 4 months

Text

MERRY CHRISTMAS – christmas clichés with enhypen

𝘪 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘥, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘴

event masterlist

LEE HEESEUNG

As you’ve stubbornly decided on having a real christmas tree this time, the both of you have found yourself on this huge christmas tree farm only three hours away from your home.

Heeseung was kind enough to agree to your ridiculous idea and drove you here with little to no objections after you bargained with an evening full of cuddles and kisses.

“No, I want a taller one!” You fuss as you cross your arms over your chest.

“Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but it won't fit into our living room,” Heeseung sends you a mocking smile, rolling his eyes at you half heartedly. “Go get the wider one and let's go. I think I'll need to get my toes amputated if we stay here five minutes longer.”

“Well, sucks to be you but you still have to drive us back,” you say pointedly as you walk past him and further into another alley full of pines. “And I'm not getting the wider tree you’re so stupidly obsessed with – we're not leaving until I find the right one.”

Heeseung scoffs with amusement at your stubbornness but follows after you immediately. Not even two minutes later, the two of you are bickering over your purchase again.

“It's thin and ugly, Heeseung, how can you even suggest buying that crap? You’ve got no taste,” You look at the tree with distaste, then side eye your boyfriend.

“It's not ugly,” he protests, flicking your nose. “And my taste is very refined compared to yours, thank you.”

“You know what, you’re right. You’re dating me after all,” you say, scrunching your nose up.

The two of you turn another corner and stop frozen in your tracks, gaping with held breaths at the most perfect christmas tree you’ve ever laid your eyes upon.

“Are you seeing this?” Heeseung breathes out as a grin displays on his face.

“We’re getting this one!” The both of you shout simultaneously, excitement filling your voices.

You jog over to the tree giddily, dragging Heeseung along with you. When you stop in front of it, you turn around and raise on your toes to press a kiss to his cold lips.

“C’mon!” Then you giggle playfully. “I'm a good girlfriend so maybe I’ll even let you pay…”

“Aren’t I just so lucky?” He teases and presses a kiss to your cheek to hide the smile that’s blossomed on his lips after hearing your giggle.

PARK JAY

With a silent nudge to your side, Jay lifts the spoon with soup to your lips. You instantly open your mouth and let him feed you.

Your eyebrows rise as you smile at him while nodding your head. “That’s really good!”

You and Jay are cooking dinner as his parents are supposed to come today. You can't say that you're not nervous – you've only met them three times before, so this pressure keeps resting on your chest ever since the morning.

You are a chaotic mess at this point, so if not for Jay's composure to balance it out, you'd probably end up burning the house down twice today.

And so it's no surprise when the knife you're cutting the vegetables with slips a little and cuts into the skin on your finger. You jerk your hand away quickly, a pained hiss leaving your mouth.

Jay walks up to you with furrowed eyebrows, wordlessly taking your slightly trembling hand in his and lifting it up to look at the cut.

“It's nothing, I just wasn't paying enough attention,” you say as you try to pull your hand away but he only gently leads you to the sink and pours cold water on your wound.

“You need to be more careful,” he says quietly, stroking your palm with his thumb under the cool stream.

“I know, I just… I don't know what's wrong with me today,” you mumble out, averting your eyes from him.

But Jay knows you better than anyone else, so he only lets out a small hum before wiping your hand dry with a paper towel, then carefully patches your finger up with a band aid.

“Stop worrying so much, sweetheart,” he finally says, voice soothing as he lifts your hand up and presses a gentle kiss against it. “Everything's gonna be fine.”

And you let him pull you into his arms, wrapping your own around his waist.

“I know, I can't really help it,” you mumble into his shirt. “I just don't want to let anybody down today.”

“You won't,” he assures you firmly before leaning down and kissing your forehead. “Especially not me. I love you. There's not much you could do to disappoint me, trust me.”

You begin to smile again, feeling the tension slightly leaving your system. “I love you too. Thank you.”

“It's nothing. Now let's go finish this dinner, hm?”

SIM JAKE

“Oh god, babe, look at that.” Jake stumbles backwards with laughter as he takes the hanger off the rack and shows you probably the most hideous Christmas sweater existing.

“Where the hell did you find it?” You giggle, scrunching your nose as you look at the obnoxious Santa’s favorite ho sewn with red thread right in the center of the sweater. “It’s so ugly!”

Once his cackles cease slightly, he walks over to you and shows you the item from up close.

“Please, please, please,” he begs with wide eyes, pressing a peck after peck to your lips. “You have to try this on for me.”

And how were you supposed to refuse his sparkling eyes? Now you’re cursing yourself for being so whipped for your boyfriend as you stare at your reflection, torso wrapped up in the green itchy clothing.

It takes all of your might not to run and hide as Jake slides the curtain of the dressing room to the side before quickly slipping inside the tight space too. He looks you up and down before a low whistle leaves his mouth.

“Damn, would you look at that?” He says with a toothy smile, spinning you around as you roll your eyes. “See? I knew you could make it work. You’re just different type of fine.”

You scoff at his words and raise your eyebrow. He steps even closer to you, refusing to let you go no matter how hard you try. Of course he would get all excited now out of all times. Now that you don’t have more than half an hour before the mall closes and you still have two more presents to buy for your families.

“Is it bad that I kinda wanna buy it for you now?” He grins, placing his hands on both of your hips before pulling you close to his chest and kissing your jawline a little too sultrily for this stuffy dressing room.

You push on his chest with a giggle, trying to get away from him. “You need to be stopped.”

“Well, I know for a fact you’re my favorite ho-”

“Jake!”

PARK SUNGHOON

Loud laughter booms from behind you as you tumble to the icy ground again, your skates absolutely refusing to cooperate with you today. Within couple seconds, you feel a pair of strong hands wrapping under your arms from behind and you’re being pulled up again. As you try to balance yourself again, you find yourself slipping again and crashing backwards into your boyfriend’s chest.

“If I knew you were such a clutz, I wouldn’t even have tried to bring you here,” Sunghoon teases, sneaking his arms around your waist and keeping you close.

Your eyes roam around the crowd, praying that this fall wasn’t as spectacular as your previous one and didn’t capture the attention of half of the ice rink. You sigh in relief when you notice no one is looking this time before tapping Sunghoon’s palm.

“Turn me around, please,” you ask him and he obliges with a chuckle, spinning you around until you’re facing his grin.

“Already giving up?” He raises his eyebrow, squeezing your waist gently.

You sigh. “I don’t know.” Leaning forward, you rest your head on his sweater cladded chest. “You never told me it was this hard.”

Sunghoon pats your back as he coos at you but you can still hear the way he’s biting his smile back.

“Stop laughing at me!”

You smack his arm, pulling away only to be greeted by a soft kiss placed on your nose.

“C’mon, I’ll help you,” he says, reaching his gloved hand for you to take. When you look at him suspiciously, he rolls his eyes and grabs your hand himself. “I’m being for real this time.”

And since you’re unable to say no to him, you end up nodding your head and let him skate over to your side to wrap his arm around your waist firmly, guiding you slowly.

And this time, he’s made it his personal mission to never let you fall again, doing everything in his might to not let you grow discouraged towards the sport he loves nearly as much as you.

KIM SUNOO

"You’ve put way too much butter in there," Sunoo points out, watching with a raised eyebrow as you form another greasy cookie and place it on the edge of the tray.

"I don’t remember asking for your opinion," you smile at him with an attitude, yet knowing well he's right as you glance at the glistening mixture of flour and butter with the corner of your eye.

"Oh my god, they look so greasy! They’re gonna merge into one big cookie in the oven," he laughs and points at the runny balls of dough already blending into each other. "Stop being so stubborn and listen to me for once. Well, actually if you did listen to me in the first place, you wouldn’t be having this problem at all."

You roll your eyes and bump your hip against his as you scrunch your nose at the butter covering your hands. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Can you please put them in the oven? My hands are too slippery."

Sunoo groans but still puts on the oven mittens and fulfills your wish. A sigh wells up in his chest, knowing well that no matter how disgusting or inedible those cookies are gonna turn out to be, he’ll still be the one eating them all because after all it’s you who made them.

And he tries his best not to fall to the ground dramatically when the next words he hears from you are the ever so cheerful, “Okay, so chocolate chip next!”

Love will truly be the death of him.

YANG JUNGWON

Jungwon casts you a concerned look when another cough leaves your already roughed up throat. It’s only your type of luck to get sick at Christmas – you shouldn’t even be surprised at this point.

“Drink your tea, angel,” he prompts you gently, pointing his head at the steaming cup of tea laying on the coffee table.

You lean the back of your head onto his shoulder, snuggling backwards into his chest as he cuddles you closely on the worn out couch in your living room. That’s already the third christmas movie you’re watching aimlessly, wrapped up in blankets and Jungwon’s arms ever since the afternoon.

He presses a kiss to your hair, gingerly nudging you back forward to grab your tea. You oblige with a quiet whine, the effort of leaning forward becoming really burdening with your weakened body. Going back to your previous position, you sigh and take a sip of the tea that Jungwon’s prepared for you with so much love.

“Why do I always have to catch some shit before things I look forward to for months?” You huff, mind going back to when you were dying of fever on your last birthday or the time you lost your voice on your first anniversary with Jungwon. So, like you’ve said before, it was a given at this point.

His smooth hands slip underneath the christmas sweater you’ve stubbornly refused to take off, and caress your warm skin softly, soothing you. He leans forward and kisses the tip of your ear – movements careful not to cause you to spill your drink.

“Don’t get upset,” he says, pinching your sides. “It could always be worse.”

“Yeah? Like what?” You turn to him with a pout on your heated up face and he giggles.

“At least I’m here with you, right?” His precious smile makes you feel warmer. “I mean, you could get stuck with Riki. How fun would that be.”

His words make you smile as well and you lean your cheek into his palm as he checks your temperature.

Riki, as lovely of a friend he was, was not the one to know how to handle sickness. You instantly remind yourself of the time his throat was sore, so he concluded that slurping down a hot package of instant noodles on one go would warm up him up enough to heal his sickness. It's safe to say he couldn't swallow anything for the next two days without spasming from pain.

“Yeah, you’re right, I guess. That would be the worst.”

NISHIMURA RIKI

"YN, stop, you're gonna hurt yourself!"

You roll your eyes as you balance yourself at the highest step of the small ladder. "I'm gonna be fine, don't worry!"

"You should’ve let me do that," he scoffs and you poke your tongue out at him, reaching your hands up to hook the golden star at the top of your Christmas tree. "I'm not catching you if your clumsy ass slips and falls down! You’re gonna break my arms."

It's your time to scoff at your boyfriend as you know that he would never let any harm happen to you. "Oh, for sure you won’t,” you nod your head at him mockingly with a giggle.

As if to prove your point, you yelp loudly as you pretend to actually lose your footing and lean backwards. Just as you expected, Riki shoots up quickly to help you keep your balance. He places his big hands on the small of your back and gently pushes you forward.

"Have you actually lost your mind?" He asks as you burst out in a fit of giggles. You wiggle your eyebrows at him knowingly, clearly satisfied with your prediction. "Don't scare me like that again."

You pat his cheek lovingly before leaning down and kissing the same spot. "See, I'm always right."

Riki scoffs for the nth time this evening and turns around to go to the box and pass you some more ornaments. Just as he takes a step forward, you turn around to look at him and in result end up actually slipping and shrieking as you leap forward. Riki, without missing a beat, swiftly moves closer to you and catches you in his arms as you fall down. You breathe out in relief as you feel your heart jumping up to your throat.

You look up sheepishly as you’re met with the scolding look on his face, eyebrow raised up as he waits for you to speak up. Instead, you bury your face in the crook of his neck and throw your arms around his neck.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. What would I be without you?"

Riki rolls his eyes at your suddenly humbled state, then adjusts you in his arms and flicks your forehead. "Most likely resting in a cemetery by now."

"Hey!"

author's note: to make it up for my absence, i've written the final fic for this event and i'm gonna do the rest next year (hopefully)!! thanks for being patient with me, lovely and merry christmas!! ❤️

taglist: @beomgyusonlywife @bucketofhiros @jesterstrange @seongclb @wannatinyus @guroyeu @jngwnlvs @milisabunny @ariadores

permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @satoruskitchenrag @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @yoongspi @nichoswag @s00buwu @dazzlingligth @seungiesluv @i4kt @heehoonsnemo @seongslutt

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sluttywonwoo · 13 days

Note

joshua eating your pussy for the first time idk

“c-can i?”

“you want to?”

joshua’s eyes get even wider, something you didn’t think was possible.

“of course i want to!” he insists. “i just, i haven’t… you’ll have to show me what you like.”

he’s already on his knees, gazing up at you with hearts in his eyes, begging you to give yourself to him.

you want him. you want all of him. you only hesitate because you know he’s never done it before. he’s new to a lot of this and you’re afraid to push him too far too fast… even though he’s the one who’s pleading asking for it.

“are you sure you want to?” you ask, carding a hand through his hair.

joshua leans into your touch as he nods eagerly, pouting his pretty lips to try and sway you. “please, baby. please let me eat you out. i need to taste you…”

you lift your skirt for him, earning a quiet gasp in response.

“yes, thank you. thank you—”

he scrambles to take hold of the fabric himself, holding it even higher than you had so that he can see more of you.

“here, let me sit for you.”

you move to the couch and perch yourself at its edge for him, spreading your legs wide enough for him to slot himself in between them.

joshua’s quick to push your skirt back out of the way and even quicker to slip his fingers beneath the elastic band of your panties.

“wait, keep them on.”

“why?”

“we’re starting slow,” you explain. “you can taste me over them first.”

“but-”

“do you want to give me head or not?”

“i do! i do, baby you know i do.”

“then be patient. it’s your first time, we’re going to take things slow.”

joshua mumbles something you don’t catch under his breath but pushes your thighs apart even further, leaning closer and closer until his nose is almost touching your pelvis.

“do what feels natural to you,” you tell him. “and i’ll guide you to what feels good to me.”

he nods, his hair tickling the insides of your thighs, then closes the space between him and your pussy. he kisses it so softly that you almost don't feel the gentle brush of his lips through the fabric before he buries his face in you, breathing you in.

he's all over the place at first, wanting to taste every inch of you. it's uncoordinated and sloppy but sensual and pleasurable all the same.

the press of his tongue is firm as he tries to taste your arousal through your underwear. you apply a bit of pressure to the back of his head, encouraging him to keep going.

"like this?" he asks, muffled.

"yeah, shua, just like that," you pant.

you didn't expect him to make you cum like this, but you're starting to think he might when he finds your clit. he knows he's found it from the way your breathing changes and the grip on his hair tightens so he doesn't let up, testing different patterns until he settles on one that has you slurring all your words.

"oh, fuck..."

"you taste so good, baby," he murmurs. his voice edges between demure and desperate, like he's trying to come off as cool but just can't control himself. "can't wait to have the real thing... if i make you cum like this can i have the real thing? please?"

your eyes are closed so you don't know whether or not he's looking up at you but you nod anyway. "mhm... make me cum and you can have anything you want."

#answered #anon #seventeen smut #svt smut #joshua smut #joshua hong smut

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another-lost-mc · 1 year

Text

A Good Morning

LUCIFER x afab!Reader 1.3k words | NSFW | Some Sexual Content | Mostly Fluff and Silliness A/N: This is attempt #1 to cope with the release of Nightbringer. I woke up feeling very sad after playing through the first couple lessons last night, so I wrote this to cheer myself up. obey me! masterlist

When you wake up, there’s an arm thrown over your waist and warm breath ghosting across back of your neck. The sheets are silky and cool, and you’re enveloped in the comforting scent of him.

It’s still early in the morning and you stifle your yawn so you don't wake him. Your alarm hasn’t gone off yet, but it will soon. You stretch your arm so you can try to reach the D.D.D. on the nightstand, but he adjusts his position slightly and moves closer, trying to mold his body against yours.

“Too early,” the sleep-thickened voice rumbles behind you. “Go back to sleep.”

Lucifer never was a morning demon. You smile and keep trying to reach for your phone even as his grip on you tightens. “I was going to get up and make us some coffee.”

The demon behind you murmurs something indecipherable into your shoulder and says nothing else, his soft snores filling the empty silence.

You arch your back into a lazy stretch, but you bite your lip when your ass brushes against a familiar hardness.

Perhaps this will wake him up.

You wiggle your hips and pretend to stretch again, making sure to grind with the slightest bit of pressure against his cock. He grunts, and you bat your eyelashes innocently over your shoulder when you feel his gaze on you.

His eyes are still a bit hazy, but specks of ruby-red glitter like jewels when they catch the candlelight in his room. “Do you think teasing me so early in the morning is wise?” he warns you, his voice thick with sleep as he nuzzles against your neck. His teeth nip the column of your throat and he hums when you tilt your head back to give him more room. He slides his hand across your belly and holds your hip, preventing you from grinding against him again.

It's amazing how quickly he catches onto your game and uses your own tricks against you. Your cheeks grow warm, but there’s a familiar sensation deep inside you that craves him now. You can’t help but glance at him over your shoulder and hope he knows what you’re silently asking for. Even after all this time together, you still get shy sometimes.

You can't see his face very well from this angle, but you glimpse the teasing tilt to his lips and know it doesn’t bode well for you. His fingers slide down your body and across the top of your thigh before he reaches the mound between your legs.

“Didn’t I satisfy you enough last night?” he murmurs before kissing your neck and nosing his way up to your jaw. He sucks the sensitive patch of skin under your ear and flicks the lobe with his tongue. He grins devilishly when you shudder in his arms.

Oh, he's definitely awake now.

“I always want you,” you whine softly, and maybe you wouldn’t be as honest - or sound so needy - if his hand wasn’t exploring you lazily, his long fingers teasing apart your folds and spreading the wet slick gathered between them. He circles your clit with feather-light pressure that’s nowhere near enough to satiate you, and you lean back against his chest in a silent plea for more.

You might’ve started this little game, but it feels like you’ve already lost and he's barely touched you. You squirm in his arms and try to coax his fingers where you want them, searching for even more delicious friction, but he keeps you still.

He’s teasing both of you when he starts grinding against you, his cock hard and heavy between your bodies. You manage to reach back behind you and grasp his cock clumsily in your palm, and you tighten your fist around him just enough to pump his cock. Your grip isn't perfect, but it works - his breath hitches, and there’s a familiar rumble deep in his chest. It's the calm before the storm.

You brush your thumb over the tip of his cock to smooth the fluid already gathering there, and it's like he's frozen in place when you bring your thumb to your mouth and suck it between those perfect lips of yours.

His dark eyes drink you in, and you raise an eyebrow as if to say, your turn. He doesn't move for a moment, but then the world seems to spin and suddenly you’re on your back. You’re caged underneath him, and there’s a canopy of darkness spreading behind him as his wings unfurl and snap open wide.

You can't see anything but him. There’s pools of black-red ink swirling in his eyes and any thoughts of going back to sleep have long since been forgotten. He’s settled comfortably between your thighs and he uses his hands to push them apart even wider, and he smirks when the tip of his cock nestles between your folds. He slides his cock against you, teasing your entrance before pulling back and savoring the moans that fall from your lips each time he does it.

You're soaking now and his cock glides smoothly in that warm, soft place that's his and his alone. You whimper when his cock catches on your clit and you're desperate for him, the same way he's hungry for you. You lift your legs around his waist to help guide him inside when he positions himself above you on his forearms–

The alarm on your D.D.D. starts blaring, some upbeat song from an anime you and Levi have been watching. The interruption catches you off-guard, and you both fumble awkwardly in surprise. He startles so badly he has to brace himself before he collapses on top of you, and your legs slide off his hips and fall limp onto the bed.

Lucifer drops his head against your shoulder and groans in frustration while you tilt your head back against the pillow and laugh. He can’t help the smile creeping onto his face at the ridiculousness of it all, and he chuckles quietly too.

“I wanted to turn that off earlier, but someone wouldn’t let me,” you chide him teasingly when you run your hands through his hair. His horns and wings have vanished as quickly as they appeared, and if it weren’t for the sickeningly sweet hint of love in his eyes, you’d almost believe the glare he shoots you is serious.

“Don’t remind me,” he grumbles before kissing your cheek and rolling off you now that the moment between you is over - for now.

He wants to be annoyed, but all he can feel is fondness when he watches you shuffle clumsily over to the side of the bed and reach for your phone. The awful racket ends abruptly, and you wave your phone triumphantly in the air like you’ve just won some epic battle. He’ll never understand how you can be so adorable doing the simplest things.

“You can make it up to me later,” you suggest with a smile, but then you squeak in surprise when his arms shoot towards you and he tries to grab your waist. You giggle and slide off the mattress, dancing away from his half-hearted attempt to pull you back to bed.

It might not be the game you wanted to play with him this morning, but these silly moments are just as precious to you (and to him).

He sighs (loudly, and dramatically) when he rolls over and stands up. He slips on his housecoat and pads across the room to join you just as you put on a nightgown of your own. He kisses your forehead and pulls you into a hug, the last bit of intimacy you’ll be able to share together before his brothers and the rest of the world demand your attention.

“So long as you promise to change that awful alarm music,” he suggests almost too casually, with a smile so fake it practically screams, or so help me, I’ll destroy that phone of yours myself.

Your response is one last kiss, your sweet smile pressed against his own, before you both begin preparations for the day ahead.

#obey me lucifer #obey me x reader #omswd x reader #obey me lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader #obey me smut #omswd smut #lucifer smut #obey me lucifer x mc #lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer x you #lucifer x you #obey me fanfic #omswd fanfic #x reader #afab!reader

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ronearoundblindly · 2 months

Text

Hideout (4.2)

touch-starved!Nomad Steve Rogers x motel employee!Reader

Horny Teen, part two (see previous or series)

Summary: A late-summer heat wave hits you and Steve hard.

Warnings for smut (kinda unprotected sex, momentarily--guess that's dubcon to be safe--fingering, lots of foreplay things and dirty talk but Steve can't actually talk dirty, so...hot talk? IDK, gang, I 'bout died writing this. Prepare thy loins, babes). MINORS DNI. There is plenty for you to read on my Light Masterlist, but this series is not for you! WC 3.1k

A/N: This part contains a cannibalized version of the original idea for this series, but since we've developed differently to this point, it is very different.

He calls ahead. For the first time in a year of visiting, he calls ahead and knows you aren’t working the night he’ll be here.

You work in the garden as long as you can stand before hopping in a cool shower. You aren’t even wrapped in a towel when the trill of your room phone—extension 14, as Steve now knows it—blares through multiple closed doors.

He’s checked-in, and in Room Two, but no pressure, if you want, if you don’t have plans, he’s here. It is the most adorable and awkwardest conversation of all time. It also never gets old to hear him scramble for the simplest of sentiments.

Translation: I’m excited to see you.

Your heart soars then immediately stalls in the stifling weather.

“I’ll be down in a few minutes,” you chuckle.

Of course, he opens his arms for a bear hug the instant the door labeled ‘2’ swings wide. Steve has fewer troubles with platonic affection when alone, that’s for sure, but who could blame him? You’re elated he’s here under any circumstances.

Record-setting heat this late in the summer has left all the AC units taxed to the brink, running constantly, and even with the in-room thermostat set stupidly low, a tank top and shorts is too much.

This means another first: both of you, in bed, naked.

Nothing’s happened, mind, because the swelter of the day zapped energy out of every creature for miles and miles around. The ice machine can’t keep up with eight rooms and your family needing relief from the blaze. From the bright stripe of red across Steve’s cheeks and his earthy musk, he was outside plenty. He’s wiped, too.

You wonder absently when the last time he wore cologne was and what it smelled like. Perhaps he never used it. Perhaps he misses small luxuries more than he ever realized.

Steve looks on the brink of heat-stroke, so you inched yourself onto one side of the bed to start, thinking skin-to-skin contact might be unwelcome. You barely got your palms on the sheets before he pulled you to him. You did not fight it.

It’s meant to be a profound comfort—your weight atop him—and it is.

Your cheek settles on his chest, eyes watching through the sheer curtains as dusk takes over the sky, a happy man stretched like a cat beneath you, smiling, heart beat slowing in your ear. So strong, so steady, so secure.

He’s safe. He’s comfortable. That’s all that matters.

You peer up from your perch. The thin worry lines on his forehead have relaxed. He seems younger. Freedom looks good on Steve Rogers, just as good as it looks on Captain America, maybe better.

You fall asleep straddling his hips, one knee hitched so the crook of your ankle drapes his thigh, slowly pushed up and down by his deep breaths.

You’re drifting, rocked gently by powerful waves in the nothingness of your blank mind, free like him, blooming in the warmth of a bright sun embracing you.

The glow continues until Steve gently shakes you awake.

The room is pitch black, the lights of the parking lot too muted to pass through the gossamer layer over the window.

“You’re…you were squirming a lot. Thought you might be having a nightmare,” his rough timber booms close to your ear.

“No, I—“ you wipe at your face “—I don’t think I was dreaming.”

Steve’s not so relaxed under you now. His abs quake slightly, and those slow breaths have become stunted, shallow with control.

“Did you?” you ask, looking towards his face, useless in the dark but your drowsy brain hasn’t caught up yet.

There’s a shuffling noise above you.

“Is that a ‘yes?’ Did you have a nightmare? You alright?”

The shuffling repeats, accompanied by a strangled “yes,” and you lift your arm to brace on his chest. It unhooks your leg from his, and the hard length of his erection moves from its perch at your ass, nudging the joint of your hip and thigh from below.

“Not—not a nightmare,” he whispers. “Just ignore it.”

Steve’s voice is husky, his grip on the back of your knee tight and unyielding, keeping you from trapping him between your legs.

Your impulse is to soothe him, to tell him he is fine and it is okay to be turned on, generally, when naked and pressed to someone you find attractive—hell, you definitely are—but if he wants you to ignore it, if he’d rather not, if it’s too soon or too hot (metaphorically, physically) or just too much right now, then you respect that. None of this has ever been about making him feel like how he chooses to receive affection is wrong.

Without moving any limbs, your fingers retract and relax, a gentle, nailless scratch to his broad pec beneath your hand, and his cock twitches, tapping your leg.

“Sorry,” Steve huffs.

“Do you want me to get off of you?” You suppress the urge to make a minor edit in that statement because it’s very close to what you want to do.

The shuffling noise sounds different.

“No,” he says softly.

You slide your hand up his chest to his neck and around the back of his head, petting the corner of his bearded jaw just below his ear, careful to use as few muscles as possible.

His cock taps you again anyway. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

You ignore it, as asked, and continue scratching lightly at his scalp.

“Hey,” you start in the darkness, “is this comfortable?”

You run your fingertips over his features while he nods, following his jaw up and down.

Unable to see, this paints the most vivid picture of Steve’s reactions. You feel the vibration of a hum through his cheek, the draw and release of his brow as you skate over his forehead. You hear his short chuckle when you brush ever-so-gently across his long lashes and boop his nose. Finally, you trace his open-mouth smile with the edge of your thumb, his ragged exhale rushing over your palm.

Tap.

“Sorry.”

“Comfy though?”

His voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it. “Yeah.”

The drag of your fingers past the edge of bristly stubble and down his throat makes him shiver.

Twitch.

“Sorry.”

You flutter across his collarbone, wondering if that means he’s ticklish on more than just his sides.

“Comfy?”

He hums. You feel it rattle your cheek as much as you actually hear it in your ears.

You continue. His corded muscles giving only slightly to the pressure of your touch. His arm, his chest, down to the hand he keeps on your leg.

Several more breathy apologies sound above you. Steve’s other arm is draped over your waist, and with every pulse of need that betrays him, his grip tightens just a little. His fingers now dig into your soft flesh absently.

It’s hard to hide how desperate he’s made you, but the issue is mutual based on how his abs won’t stop tensing, searching for attention where he denies it.

You flatten your hand to his chest and make to move.

“May I?”

Steve’s swallow is louder than the ‘okay’ he returns.

You are careful not to push him in any weird angles as you raise up to your knees and straddle him, pinning his erection beneath you, not directly between your folds but nestled at the apex of your legs, just so he won’t have to worry about every involuntary poke.

With such fresh contact, he clenches his ass hard in response, lifting your whole weight completely before he settles again. The surge of heat to your core has you biting your lip to muffle a moan.

“Comfy?” you rasp at the same moment Steve offers a strangled “sorry.”

The low, constant whine of the air conditioner fills the hollow space around your cocoon of anticipation.

“New plan,” you laugh, relaxing your fingers to splay across his warm skin, “both of us stop doing that, huh? You have nothing to be sorry for, and I’ll trust you to tell me if you aren’t comfortable.”

“So…” Steve shuffles on the sheets, but whatever he moves doesn’t affect your position. “Can I touch you?”

You bite your lip harder before answering, your voice dropping to a sweet reassurance. “Yes. Of course you can, Stevie.”

You keep your pets of his chest and arms light, trying not to tickle him. He’s always so hesitant; you’re worried the tiniest misstep will send him back into his head—not in a good way.

The silence now feels purposeful, dense with possibility, and then rough fingertips land like a foreign explorer who’s braved months at sea solely to experience this moment.

A calculated inhale and exhale rock your pelvis, a wave of nerves foaming in your gut.

He starts innocently enough, mapping your thighs, muttering something about how soft they are, but you don’t dare lean to hear him better. No sudden movements. None. Even though your skin lights up as explosive as those 4th of July fireworks you missed.

Since there’s nothing to see in the room, you feel everything.

He keeps to the periphery of you at first, abandoning your legs to brush the same arms touching him, running fingers together, separating them just as quickly, caressing your palms gently, and dragging his short nails up your wrists without pressure.

You stiffen in pleasure, fighting not to shrink away from the purest intimacy you’ve ever experienced.

His long arms reach the curve of your shoulders, flit across your collarbone, and you’re doing your damndest to keep it together, leaning your head back in lieu of talking.

Don’t scare him.

It can’t last; you’re only human.

Steve’s hands slowly descend over your breasts, middle fingers catching your peaking nipples, and a lewd and aching cry tumbles from your bitten lips.

The force of it surprises you, but more surprising still is him, unfazed, encouraged to linger.

In that low timber, he growls.

“You like that… Knew you would.”

Your body throbs, pulsing with need and emptiness.

That means he thinks of you. He’s imagined this. He’s wanted this.

Stunning electricity shoots through your body as he pinches and twists, squeezes and kneads. Nothing too harsh, but he’s highly motivated when you purr and gasp atop him.

What else does he think about doing? How long has he fantasized? Is this as good as his imagination?

Yours aren’t the only noises now. He sounds tortured with little pleas and whimpers escaping before each guttural moan.

Arousal pools at your folds, and without realizing you started to move, the shy momentum of your hips has nudged his length to lay flush with your dripping center. His tip glides over your clit.

Again and again.

A hot pressure builds in you, faster than ever, kerosene dumped on your wet-dreams and burned to life, a spell manifest in the night.

Steve shakes beneath the palms you brace flat on his chest, the heels digging into his diaphragm.

He moves to grip your thighs hard.

Fire spreads beneath your skin as you two pant and gasp, his whole cock slick and slotted so close to where you truly long for him.

“Wait,” Steve groans, but you can’t understand.

No one could imagine how good this feels, how much you need this, how—

He sits up to stop you, accidentally notching himself at your entrance, your residual motion sliding the thick head of him past the that first, tight ring.

Steve’s lusty moan is barely eclipsed by your own, and you’re too close to halt sheathing him within you, arms instinctively wrapping his shoulders. Desire winds the coil in your belly too taut, the thought of losing this climax unbearable.

“N-uhhh god—“

He’s too sensitive though. He flips you both so your back crashes to the soft sheets and digs his grip into your side, his other hand thumping to anchor on the headboard. Steve sucks air through his teeth like he’s afraid the faintest smell of sex will set him off.

“Don—don’t move,” he orders in thick command.

It makes things worse.

You’re so close, vaulting off the ground and suspended by legs clamped around his waist, dangling on the precipice of ecstasy. You whine and clench, totally unable to control yourself, your nails digging into his back.

Steve cries out, choked at the hilt by your desperation and lost to his own finish.

His hand races from your side to your ass. He pulls out of you only to slot himself there and thrust his cock between your cheeks, cum shooting on the sheets below.

Mindlessly, you ride the cut of his abs, his course pubic hair adding almost enough friction to keep ascending toward your own end, but the void left behind is too consuming. The fire sputters and dims.

Steve buries his face in your neck, breath cooling the sweat lining your skin as he curls away from you, overwhelmed.

“Swear I was gonna wait,” he confesses to the tender spot behind your ear. “I swear.”

“Please,” you croak, tears prickling your eyes in lament for your ruined orgasm.

“Was gonna be better. Swear I’ll do better for you.”

You grope and claw at those thick arms which hold all but his face far away. “Please,” you beg pathetically, “fucking touch me, please.”

A drawn out grunt vibrates the column of your throat.

“Y’shouldn’t have ta beg...”

He shifts to his forearm, caging you in as you plead over and over. He kneels to hover, and your thighs weakly squeeze at his own to emphasize what you need.

“Sounds so pretty when you do…”

Something between a screech and a snarl erupts from your chest.

Steve shushes you, smoothing a big hand across your damp cheek, and quietly, he commands you, “show me what to do.”

Your quivering hold guides him by the wrist down your body. Words to instruct him won’t form in your sex-steeped brain. As luck would have it, he doesn’t need specifics.

“Next time I’ll taste you.” One finger teases your folds in search of his entrance. “Next time you’ll have to beg me to stop.” Two fingers drive forward, displacing a gush of your shared juices. “So wet,” he groans, agonized to silence when you jerk his hand to thrust faster.

“More.”

He sets a loving and delicate pace, the heel of his palm working your clit.

Too delicate.

“More,” you gasp.

He obliges, muttering how good he’ll be to you from now on. You’ll always be first. He promises.

The fire takes over again.

“More, Stevie. Please.”

You grind down on him to prove your point, and he marvels that this isn’t too rough for you.

Each strangled breath ties your moans together in a crescendo worthy of Carnegie Hall.

“God,” he rumbles by your ear again, “I know that sound. You’re close, aren’t you?”

Steve’s pumping fingers bully your body farther and farther up the bed, using only a taste of his real strength.

Your chant of ‘yes’ catches in your taxed lungs. He doesn’t need an answer though.

The super-stretched band snaps, a plateau of peace and weightlessness tipped at the vertex until—crash—nerves are razed all along you like a carpet-bombed battlefield.

“Uhnn, is that what you’re gonna feel like around me?” He sighs at the thought and stills his hand just to commit the ripple to memory. “How’m I s’pose to last?”

You slap a hand over his mouth, trying and failing to hold in your yelp of relief.

That mouth…that fucking mouth of his is a weapon all its own.

Tiny explosions wreak havoc on you, body and soul, as his fingers greedily coax you to keep coming—just a little more—just for him—one last rush—give him everything.

His lips open in your palm, but you grip his face harder.

You can’t. You can’t listen right now. You can’t hear one more dangerously sexy, completely innocent thing fall from his beautiful mouth.

Steve lets his hand go lax but doesn’t take it away from your clenched and spasming thighs.

He tries to speak again then gives up, waiting.

Finally, before you can collapse boneless to the bed, he hooks his arm behind your leg so you don’t land on the cold, cum-stained sheets.

He shakes off your forgotten grip of his jaw.

“Tops?” he whispers, patience personified in the long pause before you hum acknowledgment. “Can I kiss you?”

That fucking mouth…

There’s barely enough breath in you to make a sound, but the instant the ‘ye—’ forms in the back of your throat, Steve’s lips are on yours.

It's your first real kiss, of all the ways, after all this time, following all that.

You’d laugh if you weren’t smiling, suffocating in the gentle press that becomes deep and adoring. He kisses you thoroughly after each frantic gasp for air, savoring you, even in the reckless passion of the moment.

Steve rolls to lay you atop him again, more intimately than before. He keeps his face close, sharing breath even in the heat and stench of sex in the room, your wetness now smeared from his navel to his knee.

Turns out, he is a very good kisser, focusing on the act of physical connection. Not only do your lips touch, but he likes to nudge you into whatever minutely different position with his nose. He likes to nuzzle his beard on your sensitive skin until you giggle and squirm. He relishes you like you relish him.

He whispers things too soft to make out at first. It takes him a while to find his voice, to push past his insecurities, to find his confidence, but eventually, you hear it.

He mumbles how he should have been better, more prepared.

You weave all your fingers through his hair, propped on his chest by your elbows, smiling so he’ll be able to tell in your tone.

“Take the win, Cap.”

You freeze.

You’ve never called him that, and Steve stays silent for an excruciating beat.

“Sorry,” you offer in the dark, air conditioner churning out sobering drafts of reality.

Steve runs his knuckles gently in patterns across your bare back. There’s a short huff and an amused snort, you mind scrambling to plan some explanation as to why you’d haul the drama of out there into his safe space.

He guides you to settle against him again, tucking you into his strong hold with his chin resting on your forehead.

After what feels like an eternity, he simply asks, “comfy?”

A/N: In case you were wondering...

[Next part: Desperate Man, part one]

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randxmthxughts · 1 year

Text

And I cried when you first said, "Oel ngati kameie" - Neteyam x Metkayina ! reader (forbidden love)

summary: despite her father's wariness of the sully's and their 'demon-blood,' y/n can't help but feel drawn to neteyam. as the two of them bond over their similar experiences of parental pressure, he finds himself falling in love with her

contains: love triangle, friends to lovers, forbidden romance/love, daddy issues (idk where that came from), fluff

wc: 5.7k

a/n: damn, i was hoping to post this like six hours ago but i did not expect for a oneshot to take a whole day to edit. please don't question me about neteyam and y/n's father, i don't want to develop that plot further bc this is a oneshot, so just assume it's a happy ending

masterlist

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Ever since the Sully family moved to Awa’atlu, whether for better, or for the worst, they became the center of attention. Despite the initial wariness of their nature, villagers eventually seemed to warm up to them, making their stay more comfortable. But unlike the others, you remained hesitant to approach them, your father's warnings of their 'demon-blood' weighing heavily on your mind. It was only in these rare moments, when you couldn't help but notice their oldest son, Neteyam.

“Where were you? I needed you there exactly for situations like this,” Jake raised his voice at Neteyam, “You’re supposed to look after your siblings!”

You watched from a distance, observing the way Neteyam hunched in shame and nodded his head in acceptance of the fault, the way he’d blink rapidly to avoid the tears welling up in his eyes, every time his father’s voice would get louder. It was a familiar sight to you, one that brought back memories of your own father raising his voice at you for disappointing him.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Neteyam expressed with sincere guilt in his voice, “I promise I’ll do better next time.”

“I know,” Jake sighed, “Dismissed.”

Jake's pained expression mirrored the face of your own father after his angry outbursts. Ever since your mother's passing, the responsibility of caring for your younger brother Tewtxey had fallen on your shoulders. Your father was tough on you, stricter than the other parents. He believed that protection meant safety, rarely showing you any tenderness. But he had no idea how much his tough love only made you rougher around the edges and deepened the resentment you felt towards him. You despised him in the depths of your heart, unable to make up for his harsh ways with the love you craved from him.

The sight of Neteyam rushing off into the trees tugged at your heartstrings. You guessed that he was in a hurry to find a private corner where he could finally break down. But as much as you wanted to trail after him and tell him that you understood, that it was no big deal to mess up sometimes, you couldn’t. You weren’t close like that, in fact, your interactions had been limited to mere greetings exchanged in passing. Yet, you had witnessed the way his father scolded him for his siblings’ troublemaking on many occasions now, and it felt like you knew him. You were already struggling to take care of one sibling, you couldn’t imagine how hard it was on him to keep an eye on three.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“And what were you thinking leaving Tewtxey alone?” your father was pacing around your marui, tail swishing aggressively from side to side.

You winced when he halted directly in front of you, waiting expectantly for an answer. It was easy for you to tune him out whenever he went on long angry rants, counting down minutes for him to cool down, but whenever he wanted you to answer him, that was when you felt your blood boil. Admitting to your mistakes verbally, without sounding defensive, was a challenge.

“He wasn’t alone,” you muttered under your breath.

“What?”

“I said, he wasn’t alone. He was with Tuktirey, and her father was watching them,” you raised your head slightly to look at his face.

“I told you I do not trust that demon,” your father spat through gritted teeth, “How could you leave your little brother with him?”

“Dad, he is the Toruk Makto. Hasn’t he proved himself to be one of us?” you felt irritated with your father’s stubbornness.

You knew that it was a sensitive subject for him. Having lost his mate to a stupid, pointless interaction with sky people, he was forever in deep hatred towards them. He was conflicted when he first found out about Toruk Makto’s past. It was difficult to respect someone who was a dreamwalker, whose children were only 'half-Na’vi.'

“You dare to challenge me?” he raised his voice at you, sending a shiver down your spine, “All I ask of you is to protect your brother! Is it so hard to listen to me? Is it so hard to understand why your mother is no longer here?”

He hit a nerve with the last question. Of course, ever since her passing, you missed your mother terribly. She was the balance in your family, the gentle touch you craved. But instead of bonding over the loss, your relationship with your father grew more distant. Suddenly, you were too reckless for him, too distracted. He was scared of how much you resembled your mother, of the possibility of the same fate befalling you.

“I’m sorry,” you hung your head in defeat.

Your father began pacing around the room again, his mind searching for another reason to scold you for. It seemed like it wasn’t enough to make you understand how disappointed he was. He stopped, when his eyes landed on the spear resting against the wall. You drew in a sharp breath, realizing that you had forgotten to sharpen the weapon for his upcoming hunt.

“What is this?” he gripped the spear tightly, pointing it accusingly at you, “Are you abandoning your chores now?”

“I forgot about it,” you mumbled.

“I cannot understand what could be keeping you so occupied all day that you neglect your duties. What kind of behavior is this, Y/N?”

Taking the spear from his hand, you stepped back, feeling the sting of tears behind your eyes. It wasn't his disappointment that frustrated you; it was his inability to see things from your perspective. He didn’t understand how hard it was on you to grow up without a mother, to always be strong in front of him.

“I’ll do it now,” you promised, taking another step back, “May I go now?”

“Go!” your father shouted.

You fled the marui, gasping for breath to calm yourself down. It felt like all the emotions you had been suppressing came crashing down on you at once. But before you could even begin to process them, the sight in front of you captured your attention.

Your brother was standing with his back turned to you, Neteyam crouched down in front of him not too far. They were playing some sort of game with their hands, when the pair of golden eyes followed your walk up to them. Your brother seemed to pay you no mind, but Neteyam lifted his gaze to greet you with his thick accent.

You only nodded, pursing your lips together and deciding to send away your brother after he’s finished with the game. As you watched them play, it wasn’t hard to notice how distracted Neteyam was by your presence. He’d constantly glance at you to read your expressions, and you guessed he heard the argument that was unraveling minutes ago. Taking advantage of his opponent’s distraction, your brother exclaimed in victory.

“Good job,” Neteyam smiled, patting your brother’s head.

“Y/N, did you see?” Tewtxey looked up to you with a bright smile. You were forced to return it, placing an arm around his shoulder.

“I did. Now go home and eat, alright?”

Your gentle approach has always worked wonders with your little brother, unlike your father's strictness. He usually obeyed you without hesitation. Tewtxey smiled at Neteyam one last time before leaving the two of you alone. Neteyam stood up, looming over you with his frame.

“He was bouncing around here and looked scared to go in,” he began to explain, “I just wanted to distract him before things cooled down.”

You nodded in agreement. You were always worried that Tewtxey would get caught in the crossfire of your arguments with your father. He was too young to be involved.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Neteyam’s gaze softened, eyes roaming over your features again.

Given the distance from your marui, Neteyam had likely heard everything. He seemed to be curious about how much you were hiding, how the pained expression on your face a few minutes ago was now replaced by a neutral one. You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, the weight of the spear in your hand suddenly seeming heavier.

“Well, I have to go,” you cleared your throat, stepping back.

“Are you alright?” he asked, concerned.

You nodded, turning to leave. Neteyam trailed after you as you walked towards the far end of the beach. When you sat down to sharpen the spear, he joined you and plopped down quietly beside you.

“Are you sure you’re alright? That sounded harsh,” he broke the silence.

You blinked rapidly, not daring to meet his golden eyes. Instead, you tried focusing at the task on hand, your motions quick and rough, attempting to make the tip of the spear as pointed as you could. The wood occasionally nicked your fingers, causing stinging pain, but you paid no attention to it. Neteyam watched you silently for a moment, before he reached out and took the spear from your hands, setting it aside. You exhaled, finally meeting his eyes.

“I'm alright. My father just doesn’t know how to handle this by himself."

“Handle what by himself?”

“Me, I guess…raising me. Without mom by his side.”

You were a mystery to Neteyam from the first day of his arrival, always keeping a distance with him, as your father’s harsh gaze grazed his family whenever they crossed paths in public. Neteyam didn’t really understand the reason for the dislike but the argument he overheard earlier helped him piece together some of the puzzle.

“I’m sorry about your mom,” he said quietly, “Ao’nung mentioned it once to us. It must have been hard without her.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, turning your gaze towards the horizon.

The gentle sound of waves crashing against each other accompanied the sunset, casting a sparkling glow on the water.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

After that moment you shared with Neteyam, you often found yourself running into each other. Whether it was after a fight with your father, or a stressful day for Neteyam, you somehow managed to offer each other a listening ear.

It was easy to open up to him, when you knew he could relate. His eyes always softened at the sight of you, arms instinctively reaching out to pat you on the back whenever you sobbed into his chest after another heavy argument. It seemed like with age, your father was becoming more unbearable, and refused to understand you on any given matter.

“What did he say?” Neteyam asked, his voice laced with concern.

“Well, he saw us hanging out, so make your guess,” you let out a bitter chuckle, wiping your face.

Neteyam couldn’t help but feel partially guilty for the treatment you were getting. He knew about your father's disapproval of him, but he couldn't resist spending time with you and offering comfort after a fight, even if he was the cause of it. You were the only person with whom he could share his own struggles, and feel accepted.

Of course, hanging out with Neteyam was also a way for you to rebel against your father's orders and show him that he couldn't control you. He didn’t realize that it was his hatred that pushed you further into Neteyam’s arms.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

As the weeks passed, your friendship with Neteyam grew stronger. There was something special between you but you failed to see the impact you were having on Neteyam's life. You had become the first thought on his mind every morning, his trainings passed in hopes to see you. When he was with you, he wished for time to stand still. And when he went to sleep, he anticipated dreaming about you. But Neteyam was fully aware of the risks of catching feelings for someone whose family despised him.

So he bit his tongue, hoping that you wouldn’t notice it. That maybe with time, things will get better. He was from a different clan, and your father had a clear disdain for him. Even if you reciprocate his feelings, pursuing you would be complicated, if not impossible. But he couldn't deny the warmth he felt in his chest every time he saw you, the way his heart fluttered when you laughed at his jokes. He couldn't help but wonder if there was a chance for something more between you two, yet he was forced to push the thought aside.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

But jealousy is a disease that brings out the worst in one. Neteyam felt it brewing inside him, as he intensely watched you talking to Ao’nung. Despite knowing about your close friendship with Ao’nung, Neteyam didn’t like him. The way his smile widened every time you said something, the way he stood so close to you…it made his blood boil.

He tried hard to focus on sharpening his arrow, not to raise suspicion in Tsireya and Lo'ak next to him, but his eyes kept drifting to you and Ao'nung. With another stroke of his knife, he accidentally grazed his finger, catching Tsireya’s attention.

“Lo’ak, could you please bring me my shawl? It’s getting chilly,” she asked, her eyes big and innocent.

Lo’ak stood up without a question, not paying attention to his brother’s strange behavior. As soon as he was out of earshot, Tsireya turned her concerned gaze back to Neteyam. He was still watching you with Ao’nung, now sitting down on the sand, your knees touching, deep in a conversation. He had never even heard Ao’nung speak to his friends for more than five minutes, what could he possibly be saying to captivate your attention for so long? Neteyam scoffed in disbelief.

“Is something bothering you?” Tsireya asked. His head snapped to her, embarrassed that he got caught.

“Nothing,” he shook his head, returning to the task at hand.

For a moment, Neteyam pondered whether he should ask Tsireya about her brother. Find out if the rumors he had heard from Rotxo were true, if there was a possibility of you being promised to Ao'nung.

“Tsireya, can I ask you something?” he lowered his voice.

“Sure,” she nodded. When Neteyam hesitated to continue, looking around, she reassured him, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Um…Is it true that Ao’nung and Y/N are to become mated?”

Tsireya frowned slightly, and Neteyam couldn’t tell if it was because of his sudden interest in the matter, or because it was untrue. He gulped, secretly hoping it was the latter. She took a long pause before answering.

“Sorry, you caught me off guard,” she apologized, “I just haven’t heard that rumor in a long time.”

“So, it is a rumor?”

“They haven’t promised themselves to each other as mates, if that’s what you’re afraid of,” Tsireya elaborated, making Neteyam cringe in embarrassment, “But I wouldn’t put it past them.”

“What do you mean?” his ears perked up at the implication.

“Well…” she sighed, “Ao’nung and Y/N always have been close friends. And my father is quite vocal about his admiration for her. He thinks she can be a good mate to Ao’nung, when he becomes the chief.”

Neteyam's eyes darted all over Tsireya's face, trying to understand if there was anything else she wasn’t saying.

"What about Y/N?" he asked, quickly glancing in your direction, "Does she like him? Does she feel pressured because of your father or something?"

“Any girl would feel pressured by my father, but I cannot speak for Y/N,” she answered honestly, “If it makes you feel easy, Y/N and Ao’nung never crossed their boundaries.”

Neteyam hummed in agreement but he didn’t understand anything. His mind was racing with questions, yet he didn’t have the answers. How come Tsireya did not know if you liked her brother? Were you into him? Even if you weren’t, wouldn’t you reciprocate the feelings of the future chief? Surely, Ao’nung wasn't the easiest person to be around, but he seemed different with you.

“Maybe you should ask her about it. You’re friends,” Tsireya nudged him.

Friends.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“You’re quiet,” you pointed out, as Neteyam dragged his feet after you, deep into the trees.

“I’m usually quiet,” he muttered.

“Not like this,” you disagreed, gauging for further clarification but Neteyam remained silent.

You did not know that there was a burning desire to confess his feelings to you raging in Neteyam’s mind. Despite Tsireya’s uncertainty the evening prior, Neteyam had already convinced himself that there was something going on between you and the future Olo'eyktan. So he felt rushed to tell you about your feelings, to prevent you from mating with Ao’nung.

But he couldn't help but wonder if he would truly be the best thing for you. What could he offer to you? He was a forest Na’vi, who did not know the way of water, who was useless in the sea. He was unfamiliar to your traditions, his whole life Neteyam prepared for leading the clan, but in Awa’atlu he had nothing to give.

To make matters worse, he found himself competing against the chief's son, someone you had grown up with and knew very well. And Neteyam could never replace that kind of relationship. Did you ever see him past your friendship, the way he saw you? The doubt and insecurity were consuming him from within.

“Is it because of my father?” you decided to guess, stopping in your tracks.

Neteyam walked past you, shaking his head. You pondered for a moment, before following him.

“Did my little brother break something when you let him play with your stuff the other day?”

Neteyam ignored your guess, holding back the big leaves in your way, waiting for you to catch up. He was deep in his thoughts, yet remained gentle and caring with you. Your gaze softened at the gesture.

“Did I do something wrong?”

He held your gaze without answering. That was it.

“What did I do?” your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Nothing, you did nothing wrong.”

“If it were nothing, you wouldn’t be tuning me out. I must have done something wrong,” you nudged his shoulder for a reply.

“I was just thinking…” he sighed, meeting your eyes, “Is it true about you and Ao’nung?”

“What about me and Ao’nung?”

“That you’re going to be mates.”

You snorted in disbelief. Although it was a topic of countless conversations with your father, who was eager to arrange a match between his daughter and the future Olo'eyktan, you were too stubborn to comply with your father’s wishes, instead of your own. You and Ao'nung had a strong friendship, sharing almost everything with each other, but it was just that. Friendship.

“That’s ridiculous, where’d you hear that?” you quirked your eyebrow at him.

“Rotxo.”

“It’s just a silly rumor that’s been going around since we were kids,” you rolled your eyes. You especially despised it a few years back, when people started teasing you for hampering other girls from pursuing Ao’nung.

“So you’re just friends?” Neteyam asked, his tone more hopeful.

“Just friends,” you confirmed, “He is like a brother to me.”

“I don’t think he sees you like a sister, Y/N.”

“Why do you care?” you teased him, “Are you jealous?”

“Why would I be jealous of Ao’nung?” he scoffed.

“No reason,” you snickered, walking past him into the clearing.

Neteyam followed after you eagerly, his steps quickening to catch up. You tried to hide a devilish smirk, knowing that you'd pique his interest.

"What is it that Ao’nung has that I don't?"

"Let it go, Neteyam," you swatted at him with your hand. "I'm not going to compare my two friends to each other."

Neteyam pursed his lips, annoyed that he had to drop the subject. He knew that if he pushed too far, he'd be caught in his own trap, coming undone in front of you. There was something about you that made him feel exposed, and he was afraid that you would see right through him.

“Here it is,” you pointed at the spear on the ground. You had lost it the evening prior, and Neteyam was sure you dropped it around here.

“Told you,” he murmured, beating you to it and picking up the spear for himself.

“Thank Eywa,” you grinned at him, “Now let’s go back. If father sees you carrying my spear, he’ll be so annoyed!”

It was an innocent joke. The way you said it wasn’t mischievous, at least not towards Neteyam. You only enjoyed the irritation growing in your father, whenever he saw you spending time with the ‘demon-kid.’ In a strange way, you felt like you were fighting him back. But to Neteyam it was stressful to bear your father’s angry glances. He didn’t like pushing it.

“Is that all this friendship is to you?” his sudden insecurity caught you off guard.

“Huh?”

"Getting back at your father? Is that the only reason you hang out with me, just to piss him off?" his voice grew more accusatory.

“Where is this coming from?” you chuckled in disbelief, “Are you serious?”

“I am,” Neteyam gulped down, “Would you still spend time with me, if your father didn’t hate me so much? I can tell this is how you repay him for being harsh with you. But it’s unfair to me. You don’t get to use me as a tool of your rebellion, don’t get to play with my feelings like that.”

“Neteyam,” you exhaled, now speaking seriously, “I would never let him control my life to the point where he decides whom I befriend. I like spending time with you because of you. You’re very dear to me.”

Neteyam fell silent, doubts bouncing around in his golden eyes. You held his gaze, trying to convince him of the sincerity of your words.

“Do you believe me?”

“I guess,” he shook his head, “I just have a hard time believing anyone genuinely likes me.”

“What are you on about?” you neared him, “The whole village has grown fond of you. I mean, even Ao’nung… He used to fight with you, but now he’s hanging out with Lo’ak like nothing happened.”

“Exactly, he’s hanging out with Lo’ak, not me. He still doesn’t like me,” Neteyam said, his lips twitching with a hint of a smile.

“You dislike him,” you disagreed.

“Only because he hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you, he just…” you sighed, already regretting what you were about to reveal, “He just thinks that you’re stealing me from him.”

“Stealing you? Is he jealous or something?” an amused smile creeped onto Neteyam’s face.

“I guess. Ao’nung is possessive, you know, he doesn’t like to share.”

“Well then, I guess he’ll just have to deal with it.”

As Neteyam turned on his heels, his braids swayed around with a mind of their own. You watched him walk towards the village, gripping your spear, a slight spring in his step. You could already feel the punishment you’d get, once Neteyam uses this new information against Ao’nung.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Hey, play nice,” you called out to Tuk and your little brother, as they were actively splashing water over each other.

While it was mostly playful, kids their age could easily get too competitive and excited. You propped yourself on your elbows, watching them play in the shallow water. After a fight with your dad, it was now your responsibility to watch Tewtxey whenever he played with Tuk. If it weren’t for your protests, your father wouldn’t even allow their friendship to flourish, so this was the only compromise that you managed to agree upon. You grinned as you watched how happy your brother was, his little giggles filling the air around you with a warm glow. It was in moments like these that you especially missed your mother. You wished she could be there to see her youngest making a friend.

“Babysitting duty?” a thick-accented voice called out, before Neteyam came into your view.

You rolled your eyes at him, earning a low chuckle. Neteyam sat next to you on the sand, his hand brushing past your thigh. You tried to ignore the flush in your cheeks.

“Is your father okay with this?” he pried, gesturing at the kids.

“As long as I keep an eye on them,” you replied with a sigh, “But don’t worry about it, it’s only temporary. My father will get over it.”

“How come?”

“Well, it’s hard not to like Tuk,” you turned your face to look at Neteyam, “And my father has a soft spot for kids. He’s not good with me, but he’s good with Tewtxey and his friends.”

“You think if you have Tuk around enough, he’ll warm up to her?” Neteyam guessed.

“Definitely,” you nodded, “It’d take some time but he’ll like her. She’s a good kid.”

“Okay,” Neteyam agreed, “What about me, though?”

“Hm? What about you?” you asked playfully, catching a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Do you have any ideas on how to get your father to warm up to me?"

“Why would I want that? It wouldn’t be as fun,” you teased him.

“Well, I could argue that it's best for your father to like his daughter's future mate, don't you agree?" Neteyam's voice was light-hearted and playful, yet your heart started racing in your chest.

“W-what?” you stuttered.

“You heard me,” he chuckled.

He couldn’t help but feel satisfied with your reaction, it was certain to him that you might have felt something for him too. It was the first time Neteyam blatantly tested the waters for a sign, and you didn’t let him down. He turned his face to continue watching the kids, acting nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Ao’nung pushed you down, his arm firmly planted on your chest, while his other arm quickly snuck around your back to try and flip you over. You protested, pushing against his ribs, trapping his legs with your thighs. You were fake wrestling on the sand, both of you trying to get the upper hand.

“Just give up,” Ao’nung huffed, as you struggled against him.

“Never, skxawng,” you huffed back, determined to win the friendly match.

“Get off her!” a thick accent cut through the air, and you caught a glimpse of blue hands grabbing Ao’nung by the neck and pulling him off you.

In a matter of seconds, Neteyam attacked Ao’nung with a flurry of punches, one of them landing right on the confused boy’s cheekbone. Angrily, Ao’nung hit him back in the face, and before things could escalate further, you jumped in between the two with an angry hiss.

“Back off, both of you!”

“How dare you hit her?” Neteyam ignored you, trying to reach for Ao’nung.

“We were just playing, Neteyam, calm down,” you said, pushing him back slightly and taking a protective stance in front of Ao’nung.

“Who plays like that? You could’ve hurt her!” Neteyam growled.

“It is none of your business, anyway, skxawng,” Ao’nung stepped forward, looking him up and down.

“Ao’nung, stop,” you exhaled in frustration, then turned to Neteyam, “I’m okay, you didn’t have to protect me.”

“He thinks he has some sort of claim over you because he likes you,” Ao’nung let out a bitter chuckle, “She doesn’t need your useless ass guarding her.”

“What did you say?” Neteyam took an angry step towards him, but you quickly extended your arm to prevent him.

“Neteyam, stop,” you pleaded with him.

Neteyam hesitated, his gaze flickering between you and Ao'nung. He clenched his fists, his posture still tense, but he took a step back. His lip was bleeding.

“Let's all just go to Tsahik,” you said softly, turning towards Ao'nung, “Are you okay?”

Ao'nung nodded, wincing as you touched his swollen cheekbone. Before you could even grab Neteyam’s arm, to make him follow after you, he was already storming off, a sense of betrayal pitting in the bottom of his stomach.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“No matter how much your father scolds you, it is never enough,” Ronal tsked in disapproval, as she treated Ao’nung’s wounds.

“I told you, that skxawng attacked me first,” Ao’nung rolled his eyes at his mother, earning a low hiss from her.

“It was just a misunderstanding,” you explained, feeling the urge to justify Neteyam in front of the Tsahik, “He thought that you were hurting me.”

“Neteyam is a good boy,” Ronal stood up, signaling that she was done, “You’re nice to Lo’ak, you should be nice to him too”

“Lo’ak is still a kid, he can learn from me,” Ao’nung rolled his eyes, “But Neteyam is too arrogant.”

“Neteyam is not arrogant. In fact, the two of you have many similarities,” you added, earning a supportive nod from Ronal.

Ao’nung ignored you, as he thanked his mother and walked out of the marui. You couldn't help but feel guilty for leaving Neteyam untreated.

“Tsahik, do you think I could take some of that balm to Neteyam?” you asked hesitantly, “I’ll get it back to you as soon as I’m done.”

“Take your time.”

You walked out, determined to find Neteyam, a bowl of white paste nestled gently in your hand. You were surprised to find Ao’nung lingering around the marui, kicking the rocks under his feet out of boredom.

“You should stop playing with him if you don’t want him to get the wrong idea,” he commented, acknowledging your presence.

“I’m not playing with anyone,” you frowned in response.

“Come on, Y/N,” Ao’nung looked up at you with a smug smile, “Surely, you can see that the boy is head over heels for you.”

“Who? Neteyam?” you were taken aback.

“Who else?”

“Nonsense, he sees me as a friend.”

“Whatever,” Ao’nung rolled his eyes at you in annoyance, “I’m just saying, you should tell him the truth. Whether you like him or not, he needs to know. I’m tired of him shooting daggers at me, whenever I talk to you.”

Did he really believe that Neteyam liked you? You could only hope that Ao’nung was right, that this was the only matter when you couldn’t see right through Neteyam.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

When you reached Sully's marui, you spotted Tuk standing at the entrance, as if guarding someone. Upon catching sight of you, she ran up to you, grabbing your wrist.

“Y/N, Neteyam is hurt!” she exclaimed, “He won’t let me get mom to take care of him.”

“Is he alone?” you asked, following after her. She nodded, “Don’t worry, I’ll help him, okay?”

Tuk hung back at the entrance as you walked into the marui. Neteyam was sitting on the ground, shooting an annoyed look at his little sister. She quickly ran away, before he could even open his mouth.

“How come you never listen to me?” you started light-heartedly, approaching him.

“Why are you here? Aren’t you too busy taking care of Ao’nung?” he frowned at you.

You only shook your head, crouching down in front of him. He had wiped away the blood, but you could still see the cut on his wounded lip. It definitely stung when he spoke.

“I wanted you to come with us to Tsahik, why did you run away?”

“Didn’t want to interrupt your moment with him,” Neteyam answered through his gritted teeth.

You were confused by his sudden behavior. Sure, it might have been a little embarrassing to misinterpret the situation and react to it, but you wondered if there was something else bothering Neteyam. Was Ao’nung right? Without talking, you used one of his shoulders to rely on him, as you leaned in. Neteyam relaxed under your touch, letting you apply the medicine to his wounded lips without much protest. You let your finger graze over his face for a little longer before pulling away.

“Better?” you asked, earning a grateful nod.

As the sight of his bruised knuckles caught your attention, you immediately picked up his hand. He must have been furious, thinking he was protecting you from Ao’nung. Neteyam flinched, when you brought his hand closer to your face.

“Mawey,” you whispered, before placing a soft kiss to his knuckles.

He watched you quietly, trying to calm his breathing. You weren’t sure what exactly you were doing, but it just felt right to comfort him this way. To show him that you weren’t betraying him, that you wanted him to be safe. When you turned his hand for further examination of wounds, your fingers grazed over the small cuts and calluses on his palms. You guessed they were from his training, and your heart swelled a little with admiration at the thought. It was a reminder of Neteyam's dedication and strength, the very same reason why you started seeing him in a different light. You looked up at him, your eyes conveying your unspoken admiration.

“Why are you upset with me?” you asked softly.

“Because you chose him over me,” he mumbled, his tone offended, yet he allowed you to hold his hand in yours.

“I wasn’t choosing anyone. It wasn’t about picking sides.”

“But you did,” he shook his head, “Whether you admit it or not, your first instinct was to protect him.”

“You attacked him first, Neteyam. I was only defending my friend,” you tried to break through his stubbornness.

“I am your friend too,” he pursed his lips again.

"Well, I kind of hoped that you were more than just a friend," you exhaled, letting go of his hand.

Neteyam's mouth hung open in shock, and you wondered if he had picked up on the double meaning in your words.

"I don't understand," he sat up straight, his gaze fixed on you, "Are you saying that you don't want us to be just friends?"

"Yes,” you felt a wave of frustration washing over you, “You can be so dense sometimes. Has it ever occurred to you that I like you?”

Neteyam's face lit up with a smile, and he reached out to cup your face in his hands.

"I could only hope for you to feel that way," he said, his eyes shining with pure happiness, “Oel ngati kameie, Y/N.”

“Oel ngati kameie,” you whispered, feeling tears of joy welling up in your eyes.

You had never cried out of happiness before, but in that moment, knowing that Neteyam truly saw you, the real you, and loved you for it, you couldn't help it. Neteyam let out a confused chuckle, but quickly gathered you into his arms, holding you close and comforting you, as you cried onto his chest.

“I didn’t want to make you cry, silly,” he whispered softly into your hair, amusement evident in his voice.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

forgot that i had a taglist :'( i hope you guys still get the notification

@bigdikzaddy @awriana @scarletrosesposts @abbersreads @mechformers @my-love-of-books @avatarbyamara @robin-the-enby @netemoon @minjix @nilrilie @jakes-babygirl @grierpilots @suntizme @jakesully-sbabygirl @mechformers @lovedbychoi @netemoon @avatarbyamara @live-laugh-neteyam @lovedbychoi @jakesullylongjuiscyshlong

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nox140497 · 3 months

Text

A Midnight Crisis

Prompt: No

Request: No

Summery: Colby has a panic attack late one night.

Prompt Number: None

Pairings: Colby Brock x Female Reader

Masterlist

Prompt List

_______________________________

Colby shut his laptop with more force than intended and rubbed his tired eyes. It was past 2am, and he was no closer to finishing the script for his next video.

Glancing around the dimly lit editing room, stacks of notes and camera equipment stared back at him, each item representing hours of work ahead. The never-ending to-do list seemed to stretch into infinity as pressure and perfectionism gnawed away at his sanity.

A tapping at the door pulled Colby from his spiraling thoughts. "Sweetheart, come to bed," said his girlfriend Y/N softly. "You've been at it for hours."

Colby nodded wearily and followed her downstairs. As they curled up under the blankets, Y/N gently stroked his damp hair. "What's keeping you up?" she asked softly.

Colby took a shaky breath. "I just feel so behind. If I don't post at least twice a week, the algorithm will bury me. And the comments..." His voice cracked. "People are always criticising - the lighting, my jokes, who I film with, everything. I try so hard, but it's never enough."

Y/N pulled him closer. "You work like three men already. No one achieves perfection, at least of all in a few hours each time."

Colby knew she was right, but the churning anxiety refused to subside. What if his viewers lost interest? Sponsors pulled funding? It had happened to bigger creators - he wasn't immune.

"I'll never sleep at this rate," he sighed. Reluctantly climbing out of bed, Colby headed back to his prison of screens and cables. Y/N followed, concern etched on her face.

Back in the office, Colby began rewriting his script frantically, deleting and retyping sentences over and over as familiar panic started clawing its way up his throat. What if he picked the wrong topic? Messed up the comedic timing? He typed so fast his hands began to cramp.

A stabbing pain in his chest made Colby gasp for air. Black spots danced before his eyes as the walls closed in, trapping him under the crushing expectation to perform.

Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around him from behind. "Colby, you need to breathe," urged Y/N calmly. She took his trembling hand and placed it on her chest. "In and out, slowly. I've got you."

Colby fought to match her even breaths as crushing anxiety morphed into racking sobs. "I'm losing control," he cried into Y/N's shoulder. "What if I can't do this anymore?"

"Shh, it's okay," soothed Y/N gently. "Come, let's get some air."

Walking unsteadily through the silent house, Colby slowly began to regain control of his breathing in the cool night. Y/N never let go of his hand, grounding him through the lingering panic.

On the back porch, they sat close together, watching the stars. An uneasy silence stretched between them as Colby gathered the courage to speak.

"I'm scared this will break me," he admitted shakily. "I pour everything into videos only to be constantly worried if it's decent enough. It's not making me happy anymore - it's destroying me." A single tear rolled down his cheek.

Y/N gently wiped it away and took his face in her hands. "You are so much more than the metrics or comments say. I see how talented and kind you are every day. This channel was supposed to be fun, so please don't let it ruin your health or us."

Her earnest eyes conveyed nothing but compassion. All the resentful feelings Colby harbored towards himself began to melt away under Y/N's unconditional love and support.

As the first light of dawn broke over the trees, Colby finally felt some of the crushing weight lift. Exhausted but calmer, he leaned into Y/N's shoulder, grateful beyond words that she saw his true worth, not defined by meaningless views or numbers on a screen. This was only the beginning of getting his life back on track, but with her by his side, Colby believed things could get better.

A week had passed since Colby's panic attack, and he was beginning to feel more like himself again. Taking time completely away from YouTube at Y/N's suggestion had brought unexpected relief.

Without daily stresses to focus on, Colby rediscovered long-lost interests like photography and gardening. He spent afternoons going for hikes with Y/N, marvelling at nature's beauty through fresh eyes. Their home filled with snapshot memories from each outing, captured joyfully on film.

With structure and rest, Colby's anxiety gradually released its grip. For the first time in months he slept well, free from dreams about botched collabs or unkind comments. Y/N watched him awaken each day looking more energised, reminding her gently of the importance to maintain this lifestyle.

One sunny afternoon found Colby immersed in tending roses along the fence border. As he trimmed away wilted blooms, flashes of memories surfaced - cramming scripts at 3am, editing well into dawn, forgetting to eat or take breaks. Exhausted, sore hands moved on auto-pilot to create a never-ending stream of content.

His downward spiral had been gradual yet forceful, spurred on by perfectionism and fear of slipping in the algorithm. But Y/N's care dragged Colby kicking and screaming from that dark routine, revealing how lonely the path of overwork had become. A cold shudder passed over him at the realisation of how close he came to burning out completely.

Wiping sweat from his brow, Colby's gaze fell upon Y/N watching tenderly from the porch. Her bright smile warmed his soul, reminding him that life held more meaningful things than views or trends. Carrying the gardening tools inside, Colby collapsed on the couch beside her with a happy sigh.

"Feeling better?" she asked, handing him a cool drink. Colby nodded gratefully. "I'm amazed at the difference a week makes. Things seem clearer now."

He stretched comfortably, thoughts drifting back over stressful nights locked away working endlessly to please abstract metrics, while neglecting real connection. That loneliness had almost swallowed him whole.

"Thank you for pulling me back from the edge," Colby told Y/N earnestly, taking her hands. "I lost sight of what really matters, but you've given me a new perspective."

Y/N leaned in for a lingering kiss. "I'm just glad to have you here, happy and healthy. Promise me you won't let it get that bad again?" Smiling, Colby promised to always communicate how he felt from now on, never bottle things up until breaking point.

That evening, the couple discussed potential strategies for Colby to maintain wellbeing going forward. Setting stricter schedules with enforced breaks, delegating tasks, limiting social media use - simple changes aimed at sustainably managing pressure and burnout prevention.

Colby knew regaining control would take diligent effort. But with Y/N by his side, nothing felt impossible anymore. Her patience and reassurance instilled a calm confidence in his ability to return renewed, without sacrificing mental wellness. The following week, Colby finally felt ready to resume video making.

Armed with new perspective and healthier habits, Colby crafted a short update video explaining his break to concerned viewers. Speaking candidly about mental health awareness and balance, he saw more supportive comments roll in than ever before. The positive reinforcement served to cement Colby's resolution to prioritise fulfillment through diverse passions instead of basing self-worth on one metric's fluctuations alone.

Weeks turned to months of sustainable creativity. True to his word, Colby kept communication lines open with Y/N, never hesitating to discuss feelings or setbacks. With her encouragement he joined local photography groups and took on freelance opportunities to spread creative wings beyond YouTube alone.

Most importantly, Colby learned to be kind to himself through both triumphs and failures. Looking back on a time when anxiety nearly took control of his life, he was profoundly grateful for Y/N's unconditional love and support. It was this care that gave him strength to overcome adversity and regain balance, emerging healthier and happier than ever before.

#sam and colby #xplr #colby x reader #colby brock #colby brock x y/n #colby brock x you #colby brock x reader

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bonny-kookoo · 8 months

Text

Jungkook

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐌𝐞 🔞

You thought you knew he only wanted sex. He thought you knew he wanted love. Who's gonna break first- and who's gonna pick up the pieces?

Tags/Warnings: PWP, messy sex oop, emotions, hurt & Comfort, major angst, minor manhandling, multiple rounds mentioned

Length: 2.3k words

A/N: someone send help I can't write smut no more I'm sorry

━━━━━━━━━━.~°💔°~.━━━━━━━━━━━

In the beginning, it wasn't supposed to be like this. Really- it wasn't.

Jungkook and you had been nothing but friends, casual ones that would mostly text and sometimes meet up for the odd takeout and drink at either his place or yours. And then, one day, it really kind of just.. happened.

For you, it was clear that he didn't mean it in a sense of 'hey, I love you' because he litereally told you so straight up the next morning. He'd stood up, got dressed, thanked you for letting him stay over, and made sure to tell you that this wasn't him confessing to you in a fuckboy'ish way or anything. That he was totally 'cool' with just staying friends and nothing more.

You had laughed it off. Had said almost nothing. You just took the hit silently, and let him walk out of your apartment, only to have him return a week later.

And the same happened again. You ate, drank, and end up having sex- and while this time it had been on the couch instead of your bed, it still turned out the same the next morning. He'd leave, thank you for staying over, only to text you a few days later if you wanted to hang out at his place.

And there too, he'd end up with his dick inside you. His bed had been comfortable, even if he lacked pillows for some odd reason. It was still nice. And this time, something was different.

This time, it was you who thanked him for letting you stay over, before you'd left.

The same game, simply with reversed players. Nothing new- it just looked like it. And now, after a year of playing this, you're yet again entangled with him in his bed, though he actually owns a few pillows now after noticing your complaints about his lack of them. You slept in the same bed after all, whenever you'd stay over- and while he hoped you'd at some point at least try to cuddle up to him, use him as a pillow, you hadn't. You'd rather accepted the sore neck you'd get the next morning, instead of showing him any kind of domestic affection outside of sex.

And he's not sure how long he can take it.

There's only so much he can do. So much he can offer. So much he can sacrifice for you.

He's unable to keep his hands to himself, uses them to push your wrists into the mattress below instead as he clenches his jaw, grits his teeth under the pressure of his own muscles aching already. He doesn't know how far he needs to go, how hard he needs to fuck your brains out so you understand that it's him who's making your mind spin. Him who wants to offer you so much more than just his dick down your throat or shoved inside your cunt. He could give you so much more than just purple marks on your skin, could give you a lot more lasting things than just a fleeting bruise.

You just won't let him.

And its agonizing.

He doesn't know what to do at this point to show you what he wants, because your eyes are always closed, no matter what. If not physically, then mentally- you don't ever look at him, never see him, all while he can't look away, has to watch every breath of yours. He knows he's not a perfect guy. He's got his flaws, a lot of them, but that can't be the reason you just won't love him.

Because in your touch, in your kisses, in the way you cling to him, he can feel it. It's not just lust and desire that's making you feel like this, he knows that. He just knows- but you act like there's nothing.

You pretend nothing is going on, you just keep your hands over your eyes and never spot the way he kneels in front of your feet, offering his heart clawed straight out of his chest. As if what you do is nothing but a stale job to get done, something not worth much more effort than necessary. A normal 9 to 5 that pays the bills.

And if that's what this is, he wants to be fired.

Because he surely isn't able to quit on his own.

But that's the thing- every time you give him the chance to leave, he just can't let it happen. And neither do you stay away from him for long either. If he doesn't reply to a message you send him for more than a day or two, you'll call him, worried tone in your voice while asking if he's alright. And it hurts, because he feeds off of those moments every single time like a drug addict, wants and needs your attention and has started to ignore you just to get that reaction in return. He knows it's cruel, that at this point you're more than toxic towards one another, but he needs you.

And it's clear that you need him too- you just refuse to admit that.

"Jungkook-" You gasp out when he pushes himself in deep, arms growing tired from the by now third round of lovemaking he's tied you up in. But he can't stop- he doesn't want to. The moment he's done with you, the moment he lets go, you'll leave.

And tonight, he can't handle that. Tonight is his breaking point.

"Jungkook I can't-" You start, but he instead leans back on his heels, pulls your legs over his thighs, before he pushes his length that had slipped out back in, hips lifting before he gathers the last ounces of strength once more. A hand on your cunt spreads the mess he'd made with you around, thumb pressing and circling over your red and swollen bundle of nerves, pushing you towards one last peak with him.

He knows it's ending. He can feel his muscles burn.

So he uses your limp and pleasure-paralyzed body to his advantage, as he moves his hands to pull your back towards him instead, having you sit on him instead, his arms around you, your face in his neck. He hisses a little at the feeling of your hand tugging his hair, the other scratching his back for just a second, as you spasm once more, core clenching around his by now painfully sensitive cock.

His last orgasm is empty, he's got nothing left to give-

and he notices the way you both shiver, just not from the cold.

And if this is the last time, he wants to be stupid- he wants to be selfish, and he wants to at least pretend for a moment while you're still out of it that he's got you. That you want him even if you're not just fucking.

His lips kiss the salty skin of the crook of your neck, up to right underneath your ear, as he leaves his head there, breathes in your scent. His arms hold you close, length softening inside you, cum and arousal leaking and causing a weird slippery sensation on the skin of his thighs. And then, you try to move. "Don't-" He mumbles, voice hoarse. "..not yet."

You're quiet, feeling a bit panicked. You need him to let go of you, right now. Because the way his hot breath fans over your skin, the feeling of his arms hot around you, the sensation of his body so close is making you delirious. It's causing your fucked up brain to come up with dangerously domestic scenes of a post-sex shower with him, where you both fail to stand up for long enough to get yourselves clean, so you have to rather take a bath and laugh about the trembling of your muscles as you somewhat clumsily make yourselves at home in the warm soapy water. It creates a dream where you sleep next to him tonight, only dressed in barely any clothes so you can feel as close as you can throughout the night, his heavy body clinging to yours at some point, raspy voice greeting you with a good morning the next time you both wake up. It paints a picture of breakfast together, of a playful argument with him about the muscle ache you both have from the excessive amount of lovemaking you both just did.

But it's not lovemaking. You two simply fuck- you don't make love.

"Jungkook, I'm all gross-" You whine, trying to push him, when you suddenly feel it as he holds you even tighter, face resting on your shoulder. He's shaking, but not from the exhaustion of his muscles.

He's crying, quietly, trying hard not to have you notice.

It confuses you. You're not sure what to do, so for now, you just lean into him, rest your own head on his shoulder, and interlace your hands behind his back as you relax. "Don't do that.." He suddenly says, shaking his head and leaning away from you. No you're definitely confused. "I can't.."

"Jungkook what's wrong?" You ask, as he takes in a deep breath to calm himself, hands wiping his face almost aggressively. "What's going on?"

"You should go shower now." He mumbles, not looking at you as he cringes a little when he finally slips out of you, sitting on the edge of the bed, before his hands rub his arms, muscles probably aching already. "Do you need me to drive you home?" He wonders, and you just sit on the bed, watching him.

It's silent, for a good while, until he finally turns a little to look at you.

And you've never really seen anything that physically hurts you so much as his face in this moment, heart dropping down towards hell, ice cold shock running up your spine at the pure exhaustion on his face. But it's not physical exhaustion you see. No- whatever it is, it's something else.

"Jungkook.. talk to me-" You try, but he scoffs, shakes his head.

"I don't want to." He denies, getting up to walk into the bathroom, where he turns on the lights and starts the shower. You feel oddly small in his apartment, weirdly out of place as you look around, surroundings unfamiliar now that you actually look at them. Have you ever really looked at his apartment? Or just the ceiling at max?

Then again, why would you? Jeon Jungkook doesn't do relationships, and you know this because he told you. Numerous times. So why is he so distressed today?

When he walks back out, you quietly wobble into the bathroom yourself, get clean and get out once more to see him already changing the sheets, angrily throwing the soiled one's to the floor. It's clear that something's off this time, and you're at fault- but you're not sure what you've done.

So you just sit down on the floor with crossed legs, butt cold on the ground since you're only wearing panties and a shirt of his you found.

"There's sweatpants in the hamper. They're clean." He mumbles, not sparing you a glance. "You can wear those. I'll drive you home in a second-"

"I don't wanna go home." You say, making his movements stutter.

"What?" He turns towards you, eyes all puffy from his earlier emotional break.

"I don't wanna go home." You repeat. "Not until you tell me what's wrong." You say, and he shakes his head, pulling the bedsheet over the mattress, groaning angrily when it slips up on another corner, undoing most of his work. You, instead, laugh a little, getting up slowly to walk over and help him.

He sighs.

"Why do you want to stay?" He asks, and you look at him as he braces his hands on the mattress, not looking up at you.

"Why do you never want me to stay?" You ask instead, and his brows furrow in confusion, as he finally looks up.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" He asks, genuinely confused. "You're the one that always leaves the moment I'm done with you." He accuses, and you stare at him almost offended.

"Excuse me?" You scoff. "Who leaves me while I am asleep after almost breaking my bed twice now?" You argue.

"You didn't invite me to stay, like, ever!" He barks back, now standing to full height again, staring at you.

"Well boohoo, didn't know the prince himself needed a formal invitation to stay in my bed after I sucked his dick!" You huff, crossing your arms.

"What the fuck is your problem?" He asks, and you open your mouth, offended.

"No, what the fuck is your problem?!" You respond back, before both of your faces relax visibly.

"I always wanted to stay. I just didn't know if you wanted me to." He says awkwardly, and you sigh, fingers playing with the hem of his shirt you're wearing.

"And I wanted you to stay, but I.. you said you don't do relationships and all that, so I didn't want to seem clingy." You mumble. "I rather, you know.."

"...took what you offered and never asked for more.." He continues.

"..so I would at least not lose you." You finish, and you both stare at each other for a good moment-

before you both break out in tearful laughter, falling into bed together-

for the first time, actually holding each other throughout the night, and many more to come.

━━━━━━━━━━.~°💔°~.━━━━━━━━━━━

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #bts smut #jeon jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader

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minnaci · 1 month

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death cannot harm you in any way that matters, but when you wake up to astarion's fangs in your neck, a part of you regrets missing out on the most human of experiences— intimacy, connection, and love. perhaps you shouldn't have invited him to join your party.

contents: astarion x gn!reader, suggestive, neck kissing, astarion-typical toxicity (astarion nearly kills reader but it's romantic... trust), based on the early scene in bg3 when astarion first joins the party and kills tav, reader has never been in a relationship and is inexperienced in romance and sex, thoughts on death

you wake to two sharp points of pleasure-pain at your throat. consciousness swims around you, slow and hazy like a smoke from a dying candle. "astarion?"

"hush, little thing." sure enough, your newest traveling companion's voice caresses your ears. ah, vampires. always so hungry. perhaps if you had awoken earlier, you would still have the will to fight him off. but now, warmth floods your body. your perception narrows to delicious sharpness of his fangs against your skin, to the steady, demanding weight of his body over yours.

"feels good," you stumble over the syllables, tongue thick in your mouth. a moan escapes you— a graceless, wanton thing. black creeps into the edges of your vision, but a sudden sense of urgency creeps into your heart. it's imperative that he knows— "astarion, 's so good."

"of course. sweet little things like you deserve a bit of pleasure now and again, don't they?" something dark tints the edges of his voice. you get the sense that he's not really listening to you, and it makes you pout. he's too focused on draining you dry, it seems. for shame! you muster the energy to wiggle a bit in his grasp, and astarion detaches long enough to coo at you. "now, now, don't fuss. just keep feeling good for me, darling."

you wiggle a bit more, a hint of a frown crossing your face. death has never scared you. it's simply the next great adventure, you think, with an added bonus of reuniting with the loved ones you'd lost along the way. that being said...

"i don't want to die yet," you say, even as your eyes roll back in your head. the feeling of blood draining from your neck into astarion's warm, wanting mouth makes your head spin. "you shouldn't kill me yet."

"and why is that?" he humors you once more, pulling back long enough to look you in the eye. you reach up to caress his cheek— trembling and tender. surprise flits across his face. his hand comes up to steady yours, as if on instinct.

"i haven't done everything i want to do yet." you struggle to focus. his features distort in your vision, but his cheek remains firm under your touch.

"oh? and what would those things be?"

"wanna be kissed." something about the blood loss makes the truth feel less pathetic to you. "wanna be fucked. wanna feel wanted. you probably don't get it. you're too pretty to understand."

there's a lengthy pause as your eyes flutter shut. your eyelids are simply too heavy to open. for a second, you think that maybe you've died already, but the pressure of his hand over yours keeps you clinging to life.

"...i can't do this to you." astarion huffs, as if the vestigial remnants of his moral code have personally slighted him. "you poor, pathetic thing. the only things you crave are simple touches?"

"'s not simple. 's everything. everything i've ever wanted."

"kissing and fucking aren't all that they're made out to be, darling." for the first time since you met him, astarion's voice loses that charming, snake-oil quality. "and feeling wanted doesn't always feel good, you know."

"i don't know," you say.

"hmm?" distantly, you feel surprisingly strong arms rearranging your limbs. a skin full of cool water appears at your lips, and a blanket is drawn carefully over your prone form.

"i don't know how it feels to be wanted." you pry open your eyes with herculean strength. astarion's face swims before you, sharp angles and delicate features highlighted by the light of the moon. "will you show me, astarion?"

"no." he smiles, and something shutters closed in his expression— some hint of vulnerability that you hadn't even realized he'd revealed until it was gone. his smile is an ugly, tight-lipped thing, so removed from how enchanting he normally is— he's dark and bitter as the coffee grounds you've squirreled away in your pack. you're vaguely aware of a new tension in his shoulders, a new set to the corners of his mouth. he's scared, you realize, the epiphany coming through a fog of semi-consciousness. what does he have to be scared of? you're the one who initiated, you're the one who put your weakly-beating heart on the line. "i'm afraid the cost of my love isn't a price you'd be willing to pay."

"that's okay," you say, letting your eyes close once again. exhaustion reigns over your bones, flows through your veins. somehow, rejection manages to hurt worse than imminent death. "thank you, though."

"for what, darling?"

for listening. for not laughing. for being kinder in his rejection than anyone has before.

"for not killing me," is what you finally settle on.

astarion does laugh, then, and that strange tension around him dissipates. "you really are too precious. here, my darling. take this as a consolation prize."

you're too tired to say you don't want a consolation prize— you've been the consolation prize your whole life. warm breath ghosts over your skin, and a soft pair of lips brushes over your forehead, your cheeks. there's a pause, then the barest hint of pressure over the corner of your mouth.

"there." astarion's voice filters into your brain from far, far away. "now you can't say you've never been kissed."

tagging: @enchantedforest-network

#astarion smut #astarion x reader #bg3 smut #bg3 x reader #writemin!#+astarion

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littlebumblebeesstuff · 3 months

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Request: heyy idk if you write for bucky barnes but if you do could you do a bucky x little reader who's never had someone who actually cared for her? like she never had a cg or her parents always neglected her so she keeps feeling like shes a burden to Bucky?

For @crazyforbarnes - I hope you enjoy!

Notes: GN!Reader, fluff, angst, mentions of trust issues and neglect

Not alone anymore

Work. Home. Eat. Sleep.

The repetitive routine was long and hard but you just kept pushing through. You had always had to work hard and you had no choice but to work in the little downtown cafe to pay rent and bills.

Of course Bucky had tried to encourage you to move in with him, but you were so ingrained into your own personal survival mode that you kept refusing.

The only escape you had was stepping into your little apartment, or into Bucky's floor in the Tower and letting yourself regress.

Unfortunately, there was a difference between regressing alone and with Bucky.

When alone you could be as little as 3, and you had the small spare room as your little space so that you wouldn't hurt yourself.

With Bucky, you never got younger than 6/7.

To say you had parental issues was an overstatement. Born the 7th child of a family that couldn't care for themselves you were often neglected and left to look after yourself.

So when Bucky stepped into his place as your dada, you couldn't stop yourself from still trying to be independent.

It was finally the weekend and you were staying with Bucky in the Tower. He was in the kitchen cooking as you finished up some paperwork.

You had been pushing away your regression for the whole week, under pressure to finish this project but now you were just overwhelmed, over tired, hungry, and frustrated.

All too big for your little brain to handle at the moment.

Bucky had a 6th sense about your regression. He knew that you were holding back but he always let you do what you wanted to do so that he could build that trust. He knew that you struggled to let anyone in and to let yourself be loved, but he hated seeing how hard you worked yourself because you believed that was the only way you would be worthy of attention and praise.

With a dish towel slung over his shoulder he walked up behind you where you were working at the dining table and gently starts to rub your shoulders, hoping to give you a little nudge towards regressing.

"Hiya pumpkin, dinner is almost ready. How about we get you into some comfies, huh?"

His voice was a soft rumble, tugging at that loose thread in your head in hopes that it would all unravel.

"Can't da-Bucky, gotta finish 'dis" Your own words were soft and slurred as you did feel yourself slipping.

The appeal of getting into comfy pjs and cuddling your dada while a movie played was slowly starting to take over the urge to finish the project.

"Hmmm.... Pumpkin, it's not your job to finish all this. You can go in on Monday and your team can help you. You need to rest too. You deserve it"

You shook your head, doubling down on your work. Your stubbornness drew a sigh from Bucky who gently took the pencil from you and pulled the chair away from the desk so you couldn't keep working.

He squatted down, cool metal hand cupping your cheek as he guides you to look at him.

"Baby, it's time to stop. No more working tonight, how about we-"

"But I have to finish dis!" You normally would never interrupt Bucky, but right now you were on the verge of regressing and also your exhaustion and frustration was starting to manifest itself as a temper tantrum.

Rather than getting frustrated, Bucky held your hands in his, attempting to calm you down a little bit.

"Pumpkin... can you tell me why you don't want me to look after you and help you regress? Am I doing something wrong?"

Bucky felt confused. He worked so hard to make you feel safe and comfortable when you regressed, but it was as if you didn't trust him.

"I- I, you not doing something wrong.." Your speech started to slip more and more, your own frustrations becoming too difficult to explain.

"I just never had a daddy or mummy.... always jus' me"

You couldn't bring yourself to look at Bucky as you spoke, instead deciding to look at your feet.

Bucky felt his heart break at your words. It wasn't that you didn't trust him- you simply didn't know how to let yourself be little and let someone look after you.

"Ok..... ok. Pumpkin, how about tonight we try something different, hmm? How about dada makes all the big decisions and you can just relax"

Bucky hoped that by getting you to agree to let him make decisions that you would let yourself properly regress without your survival instincts kicking in.

You take a moment to think about it.... it did sound nice to have dada making all the big decisions...

Finally you nod and Bucky breaks out into a big smile, kissing your forehead.

"That's dada's brave lil' pumpkin! Now, let's get you into some comfies"

Scooping you up into his arms, Bucky walks into his room, all the while pressing kisses over your cheeks, forehead, and nose.

By your little giggles, he was already very aware that you had regressed younger than you ever had before with him.

However, when you first brought up age regression he had done so much research and had bought a load of different things for different ages.

Wanting to give you the best experience as he could, he kept you on his hip as he dug around in his drawers for a duck print onesie that he had always wanted to use.

Once he had it, he sat you on the bed and helped you get changed.

"Aaand there goes one sock! And two socks! Now we gotta lift those little arms up to take your top off- that's it, you are doing so good Pumpkin!"

Soon you were in the fluffy duck print onesie, with fluffy socks in to protect your feet from the cold tiles of the floor.

Before leaving the room, he snuck a paci into his pocket.

Bucky took you through to the living room, setting you down on the massive sofa and making sure that you were propped up by pillows. He asked Jarvis to put on Bluey for you while he went and sorted dinner.

He could still see you from the open plan kitchen as he put the meal that he had originally prepared in the fridge and instead made you a plate of chicken nuggets, apple slices, cheese cubes, carrots and some goldfish crackers.

You were really engrossed in the cartoon that Bucky had to sit you on his lap and hand fed you your food.

He praised you for every bite and kissed your cheeks when you finished everything.

It felt so natural to be looking after you like this. You let yourself relax and you were so desperate for it that you couldn't even try to look after yourself.

Soon you were full and snuggled up on Buckys lap, staring to doze off as your day of big emotions caught up with you. Looking down to check up on you, Bucky smiled as he sees that you have put your thumb in your mouth as you self soothe.

"Oh baby, let's not put our fingers in our mouth- look, dada has a paci for you"

He gently pulls your thumb out of your mouth, aware that you are half asleep and eases the paci in to replace it.

Your eyes slip shut as you sook on the paci, your body finally giving in and letting you drift off to dreamland.

Bucky waits for a couple of minutes, to make sure he doesn't disturb you, before slowly standing up and carrying you to bed.

He asks Jarvis to turn everything off as he tucks you into bed before quickly changing into his own pyjama pants and laying in bed, tucking you into his chest.

Sometimes you will have bad days, ones where you feel like you have to look after yourself. But Bucky will always be there to help you.

#agere little #little!reader #littlereader #sfw little community #sfw little post #little reader #sfw little blog #bucky x little!reader #bucky

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enterwittyjokehere · 6 months

Text

In this one, jealousy killed your cat part 2

Round two, FIGHT!

[Tomas vrbada (smoke) x reader smut]

⚠️ Warnings

[Czech terms of endearment, however, i do not speak czech.]

[Senorsed swearing]

[Heavy smut 18+ only]

[Body worship]

"Let me know when you're ready for round two." Tomas sprawled out on the bed, neglecting his twitching c*ck.

You laid beside him, holding yourself in an attempt to catch your breath. Your heart rate slowed, and your breathing became more regulated, you rolled over, seeing Tomas staring at you.

The way Tomas looked at you was comparable to how a kid looks at a shooting star, full of wonder and like it's the most beautiful thing he's laid his eyes on.

Tomas' grey eyes, heavily dilated, still filled with so much lust and desire. He crained his neck, allowing him to place three kisses to your forehead.

"You ready, my love?" You asked, your partners eyes widened.

"Yes." He said, nodding, he quickly moved closer to you. He first, placed a kiss to your already sore cl*itors, making you wince. He then took his best two fingers, the middle and ring, inserting them into you, his fingers were much larger than your own.

It had been so long since you had been stretched to such a degree, he pumped his fingers in and out, already you felt a building pressure in your lower stomach. You covered your mouth, to not disturb your house guests, as small swears left your mouth.

While your lover pumped his hand, he slipped another finger in, making three. When they moved inside of you, you moaned and gasped uncontrollably. He then removed them, licking them off, the sweet and sticky substance being like candy to Tomas.

Tomas had been holding back, his aching c*ck twitched as the veins were much more prominent now. The pink tip leaking precum, that rolled down the base of his shaft, before dripping off.

"Miláčku, tell me if you need to stop, or if it's too much." He said, rubbing your cheek with his calloused hand. "It's been a while, so I'm excited but communicate, okay?"

You nodded, biting your lip, Tomas was by no means huge, but he was pretty decent for most of the guys you had been with. Even though his length was nothing to scoff at, his girth was what was addictive, the way he stretched you out no matter how much foreplay you had.

You had missed having a life with him, you missed the sloppy morning s*x before breakfast or the quickies you would have in the bathroom of madam Bo's. How Bi Han would scold him when he had hickies showing under his grey gi.

You winced as he tunnled into you, stopping and waiting, your hands had found his muscular back. Holding tightly onto his shoulder blades for support as, he struggled to stay still letting you adjust.

You took deep breaths and tried not to squirm, you tapped him on the shoulder, letting him know he could move.

Almost instantly he began to ravage your small body, his pelvis slapping against your body, in way you were worried would leave bruises.

Earlier you hadn't recognized his actions for your loving and charming boyfriend. Now, however, Tomas Vrbada was replaced with a hungry, h*rny animal. Senselessly humping and rocking into you, it hurt but it was also the best feeling in the world.

"I honestly can't believe you thought I would ever f*ck this up." He said, in between grunts, "You're the only goddess worthy of my worship."

He moved his mouth to your chest, suckling on your nipple. The other one, in his hand, being teased relentlessly, you moaned out his name.

"Keep doing that, please." He said, "oh I wish, Kitana and Johnny could see this, I bet they'd be so jealous."

He rutted into you hard, the pressure already a almost too much to bare, on the verge of your second orgasm. You dug you fingernails into the back of Tomas' arms, scrapping the skin as his blood hit the cool air of the room.

The sounds you and him made, you moaning his name over and over again, accompanied by him stammering on in his native tounge and the slapping sound of your bodies becoming one, the whole room was music to his ears.

You finally hit your second climax, letting out a prolonged noise of pleasure while your lover continued to f*ck you, your walls tightening around him. He rutted into you, thursts becoming sloppy and shallow as he came into you. Falling onto your body, he held you close.

"I don't want you to go." You said, you face in his neck.

"I wouldn't if I didn't have to." He said, his arms tightening around you protectively.

"Promise you and the brothers will come visit me soon?" You spoke, your small voice muffled against his skin.

"I will try, except me and Kuai Liang aren't on speaking terms with Bi han right now..." he ran his hand over your soft hair.

"What? Why?" You asked, turning your face towards his.

"It's a long story... I'll write you about it, okay."

"Ok." You said, as You began to drift asleep.

You woke up, Tomas stood in the corner of your room, putting his gi back on.

"You're really leaving again?" You said, not mad just a little disappointed.

"Yeah, I have to. Lord Liu Kang is expecting us." He spoke, walking over to the bed. Kneeling into the mattress, he placed several kisses all over your face, "I miss you already, my heart."

"Tomas, were never really that far apart." You spoke, reminding him of the reason for his pet name.

Your lover placed a hand on his chest, "yeah, I guess you're right."

"And you already said, you and Kaui Liang will come visit me soon." You laughed, rolling over.

"Of course, baby." He said, leaning over you to kiss the side of your neck, "I made coffee, there's half a pot still in there."

"I love you." You spoke, looking into his grey eyes.

"As do I, Miláčku."

With that, Tomas left, meeting up with his friends who were waiting patiently in the they had been left in.

"How'd it go lover boy?" Johnny teased.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, johnny?"

"Oh, like we didn't hear all that." He spoke up, making faces to mock Tomas, "I didn't even know your girlfriend could swear like that."

"By the way, you were listening Johnny, it seemed like you enjoyed it." Kitana spoke, poking fun at cage's behavior.

#queer author #x reader #fanfic #mk smut #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat #smoke mk #smoke x reader #smoke #smoke mk 2023 #mk1 smoke #tomas vrbada smut #tomas vrbada #tomas vrbada x reader

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edges-of-night · 10 months

Note

hi! I've just discovered your blog and I love it - from the url, profile pic, everything 😍 and most importantly your writing, it's so cute and you're able to write so many characters 🥰 as a fellow fic writer - I'm impressed 💜 can I request how they would first realize they love you, and how they would say it for the first time? No pressure, and thank you so much if you end up doing it. 🥰

- @wordbunch (sadly can't send asks from my Tolkien sideblog, so I'm on anon lol)

Thank you so so much for your kind words!! ♡ I’ve actually had this scenario in my “to do notes” already, so I’m very happy you requested it haha! Sorry again for posting so late, I hope you enjoy the read!

･ﾟ✧ Aragorn.

Aragorn is not someone to make the first step in romance, even if he is the one falling in love first. He’d probably realise it during the ranger job you do together, like looking for herbs or reading traces – where his hand brushed against yours! But Aragorn is very much the person to respond to a love confession of yours, after which he tells you that he reciprocates your feelings in a very romantic manner: “Me too. I am bound to you by honour and affection alike. If you would have me…”

･ﾟ✧ Arwen.

Arwen would fall in love with you after dancing together. It could be on a ball her father’s giving, or just the two of you under the moonlight, where she’d laugh of bliss. You’d notice a slight change in her behaviour afterwards, more smiles, stolen glances – but you could only be sure after she finally told you, “It is because I have fallen for you, melethel. And there is nothing you can do about it!”

･ﾟ✧ Boromir.

Boromir takes a casual approach to love and romantic relationships. This is why his love confession to you would be rather nonchalant, maybe over a lunch you’re preparing together over the fire. “I love you, you know that?” he’d say, all cool – as if he didn’t fall for you when he saw you fearlessly wielding a sword and shield during combat training…

･ﾟ✧ Elrond.

Elrond would fall in love with you so gradually he wouldn’t be able to pinpoint an exact moment of realisation. Maybe it would be over a book you’re reading together, or when he told you about all the ancient stories he witnessed himself – or a grand love story. And then he’d turn to you and say, “Are you aware that this is how I feel about you as well?” He’d be very tender and playful about it, but earnest at the same time. He is very considerate toward you.

･ﾟ✧ Éomer.

Éomer doesn’t fall in love easily. Maybe due to this lack of experience, he has trouble expressing his feelings after that one horseback ride you did through the rain, where he helped you out of your dirty clothes afterward. His love confession would be a tedious process, with lots of phrases like, “Don’t make me say it. I lack the words to tell you…” – before he eventually leans in for a kiss and quietly adds, “Forgive me. I hope this tells you all the same.”

･ﾟ✧ Éowyn.

Éowyn is always brash and joyous around you, so her love confession would take you quite by surprise. She’d pick “an old Rohirrim tradition” to show you, maybe a special exchange of gifts, a traditional dance routine etc. “This is how the people of Rohan express their love,” she’d tell you with a soft smile and hopeful eyes. If asked, she would tell you when she realised she loved you: during sword lessons, of course!

･ﾟ✧ Faramir.

Faramir falls in love with you as soon as he meets you. He’s always been like that, heart racing with as little as a soft look or touch of a hand. For this same reason, and Gondor’s marriage policy, he swallows down any confessions because he has little hope in his own feelings. But after months, maybe years of courting and mutual affection, he’d finally tell you, in some grand romantic spot he chose – on his knees – because he’d connect it to a marriage proposal!

･ﾟ✧ Frodo.

Frodo would realise he loved you on a warm summer morning, as you’re walking barefoot in the grass – and then not tell you. He’d keep his secret to himself (haha), just smile to himself and subtly check the way you’re feeling before confessing to you – probably while holding both your hands, because that’s how sincere he is! “It gives me hope to hear you say that, because I, too, hold you very dear and love you very much!”

･ﾟ✧ Galadriel.

Thanks to her powerful telepathy skills, Galadriel probably knows you love her before you yourself do. She knows all about your feelings – but nothing of her own. I like to imagine her as blissfully oblivious, right up until the moment you confess to her. Then something would click inside her, and with a blank stare ahead, she’d whisper, “I love you, too. I haven’t realised it until now – but I do.”

･ﾟ✧ Gandalf.

Gandalf would realise he loved you after you’ve said or done something incredibly smart, like maybe found the solution to a problem that he was unable to solve. It’d make his heart skip a beat, he even looks away with a blush! And then he’d despair trying to find a “suitable moment for courtship”, as the old ways suggested, full of ceremony – and probably end up telling you his feelings very casually over a cup of tea he invited you to.

･ﾟ✧ Gimli.

Your usually hard-shelled Dwarf gets very flustered when he says the three words to you – followed by some nervous babbling, like, “There! I said it first. And I mean it very earnestly.” The moment he fell for you was probably connected to seeing you in a new light: Working in the mines all day leaves little room for elegance, but after seeing you in your beautiful banquet outfit, Gimli was walking into walls for the next three days!

･ﾟ✧ Haldir.

Haldir has always dreaded falling in love. But when you smiling at him makes his heart skip about three beats, he cannot lie to himself any longer. He can lie to you and everyone else though, needless to say. Not that anyone actually believes his denials… But Haldir would only confess his love in a life-or-death situation, when he thinks he’d never get the chance again. Then, of course, he’d be as elegant and romantic as all Elves are.

･ﾟ✧ Legolas.

If you are near Legolas the moment he realises he loves you – on a scouting trip, for example, or during preparations for a ball in Mirkwood – he’d tell you right away. He’d give you an analysing look, with a smile dancing around his lips, and say something like, “How I love you right now! I love you very much, my dear.” Thanks to his royal training, of course, he’d respectfully draw back until you’ve made your own feelings clear.

･ﾟ✧ Merry.

While he’s usually rather easy-going, Merry would plan out his love confession (meaning: a speech!) step by step, including an outfit plan and meal schedule designed specifically for you. He is the thinking type, and when it comes to this, he tends to overthink. He’d include a line like, “From the moment I first saw you…” when in reality, he probably fell for you when you joined one of his shenanigans without any reservations, proving just how similar you two are at heart.

･ﾟ✧ Pippin.

Pippin strikes me as a very “love at first sight” kind of person. At the same time, he’s really casual and playful about it. He’d only talk about it in return of your confession to him, like, “I never thought about that! I fell in love with you the first time we met!” – and probably shower you in a million compliments in the process!

･ﾟ✧ Sam.

Sam would realise he’s in love with you while thinking of new poetry to write – because all he thinks about is you! Somewhen along the line, he’d lean back in his chair, starting at the dozens of pages he wrote about you – and then have the overwhelming urge to go up and meet you to tell you right away, in his adorably sincere and gentle manner ♡

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