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wildernessuntothemselves · 7 months

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Jealousy, Jealousy... | Part 3

A/N: don't even have a summary for this. oc is in love with gyu and gyu is in love with another girl but both are virgin losers and gyu is a horndog who would let oc do what she wants to him just as long as he gets to cum.

Word count: 3.3k

Genre: Smut, angst

Warnings: fem!reader, semi-public sex, handjob, orgasm denial, cunnilingus, sub!beomgyu, dom!reader, sub!reader, dom!yeonjun.

A/N: so I have split the chapter into two to get it out faster and to give good time for events to sink in. sorry guys but also not very sorry because i like to torture you lol

"The girl you've been obsessed with for years has invited you to her party but instead of trying to talk to her, you’re hiding in the closet getting jerked off with her right outside. This is why she never gave you the time of day. You’re such a pervert, Beommie."

"Yes, baby. Whatever you say." Beomgyu breathes heavily, leaning into your touch. He always becomes so pliant once you have his dick in your hand.

"You've got nothing in your brain but sex, huh?" You ask, jerking him off and true to your words, he already looks so dumbed out.

“No.” He answers your rhetorical question, legs buckling when you drag your palm repeatedly over the head of his cock, precum sticking to your skin.

“Careful, Beommie. Don’t fall.” You laugh, your breath causing goosebumps to erupt along his neck, and he lays his head back to give you more space, silently asking you to kiss his neck, and you do, hearing him let out the prettiest half-moans half-pants.

“Can I cum?”

“Hmm.” You pretend to think about it for a few tortuous seconds, letting one of your hands trail under his shirt to play with his nipples.

“Baby!” He sputters, his nipples are just so sensitive.

“You can’t. You’ll make a mess and everyone will know what you did. They’ll all know you came all over yourself like a big pervert.” You choose your words specifically to rile him up, feeling his cock twitch in your hand.

“I don’t care. Just wanna cum.”

“But she’ll see, baby. She’s going to be disgusted.”

“I don’t care. I don’t c-care. Just need it.” He’s delirious, too gone to even think about her. Just the way you like him. You know he’s hanging by a thread and any second now he’s actually going to cum, and so regrettably, you let go of him, causing him to yell out.

“No!” He cries and you immediately cover his mouth with your hand to quiet him. “Hush, Beomgyu! Someone will hear you.”

“Why?” He cries out when you remove your hand.

“I told you. I don’t want you to make a mess. You can cum when we get home.”

It’s a lie, of course. Truthfully, you just wanted to punish him for once again openly salivating over her in front of you.

“Then let's go home.”

“Not yet. I wanna get a few drinks first. I’ll get out of the closet first. You wait a bit and come after me. You should probably wait a bit anyway for that to go down.” You grin, glancing at his poor red cock.

“You’re evil.”

“I know.” You put his dick back in his pants and zip them up. “Don’t touch yourself.”

You get out of the closet with a huge smile on your face. This evening started horribly with you having to sit beside Beomgyu and watch him tear through Haeun’s clothes with his gaze, openly lusting after her as if he doesn’t care who sees. But once you had enough alcohol in you, you decided to do something about it and whisper in Beomgyu’s ear to follow you to one of the closets. Being the horndog he is, he followed right after, finally interrupting his leering session.

Okay, maybe getting him to pay attention to you by giving him a handjob at a party wasn’t your proudest moment but you did get him to stop caring about her. Maybe in time you’ll get him to forget about her completely. Maybe he’ll even start looking at you differently, and he’ll realize you’re the one who truly loves him…Oh, who are you kidding? He has been obsessed with her for–

Lost in your thoughts, you smack right into someone, the drinks they were holding spilling all over the both of you.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, I'm such a drunk idiot." You immediately go into apologizing, not wanting to antagonize the person further, but when you look up, instead of an angry frown greeting you, you see him with his head cocked to the side and a grin on his face. "That’s okay, doll."

“Yeonjun!” You gasp, slightly relieved knowing the person isn’t going to fight you, but still horrified at the damage you’ve done to his white shirt. “Your shirt is all ruined!"

"It's alright. It’s your dress I’m worried about."

You look down at your dress which was equally soaked and now clinging to your body uncomfortably. “Ah, shit. Let's go wash off before the stains will set."

You drunkenly drag him to the nearest bathroom. Once you’re inside, you turn to him. "Take off your shirt."

“Oh, is this finally happening?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you and you roll your eyes. “Off.”

"Bossy. I like it." He takes his shirt off and hands it to you, and you bashfully look away from his half-naked body, taking the shirt and running it under water while he grabs a towel and wets it, washing off his stomach, or more accurately–his abs.

Still, you can’t help but to sneak not so subtle glances at him, drawn to the sight, before blushing and looking away when he catches you.

“Like what you see, doll?” He teases, winking at you.

“Shut up.” You rub his shirt with some soap to get the last of the stain out.

“I can guarantee you, he doesn’t look like that.” His voice is suddenly so close to you, and you look up to see him right next to you, cornering you between his body and the sink.

“Stop it.” You put a hand to his chest, which you immediately come to regret as the skin on skin contact makes your treacherous heart flutter.

“Why? Why are you so hung up on him? The idiot doesn’t even realize how much you love him. He’s too preoccupied with her.” You try to look away at the painful mention of Haeun but Yeonjun gently turns your face back towards him. “Give me a chance to make you forget him.”

“Yeonjun…”

“Can I?” He leans forward, his face inches from yours.

Should you really be doing this? Beomgyu had told you to stay away from Yeonjun specifically. He would be very pissed off if he found out that you let him kiss you… but then again, why? Why can’t you kiss Yeonjun? It’s not like you and Beomgyu are together. You’re free to kiss whoever you want, dammit!

‘To hell with it.’ You think, surging forward to close the distance between you and Yeonjun.

His lips are the softest lips you’ve ever felt. Granted, you only kissed two other boys before, Beomgyu being one of them, but still. He was so confident with it too, guiding you and coaxing you to open up to him, letting him taste you and you him. It was slow, purposeful–so different from Beomgyu’s kisses.

No. You need to stop thinking about Beomgyu. That was the whole point. Forget Beomgyu.

“Get off her.” Beomgyu shouts.

Beomgyu?

Yeonjun moves away from you, or more accurately is pushed off you.

“Beomgyu, what are you doing here?” You gasp, horrified at having been caught by him as if you were cheating on him or something. It didn’t help that his reaction made it seem like you are.

“I was looking for you. I thought I told you to stay away from him.” He hisses, clearly angry which just pisses you off. Whatever fleeting sense of guilt you felt for kissing Yeonjun quickly dissipates in the face of his inexplicable wrath.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do.” You snap back. “And if I want to kiss Yeonjun, I will.”

“He’s my friend!” He shrieks, as if that means something.

“So? That doesn’t mean I can’t like him.”

Beomgyu reels at that. “You like him?”

Both boys stare at you expectantly, waiting for your answer, and you stammer under their gaze. “M-maybe I do.”

Beomgyu’s face hardens and he turns his back on you and walks out the door without another word.

What? What did you say?

“Oh no, did I just fuck up?” You fret, moving to run after him, but Yeonjun grabs your hand, stopping you. “No. You stood up for yourself. If he doesn’t want to be with you then he doesn’t get to tell you who you can be with.”

“You’re right. He’s not my boyfriend.” You try to assert, but quickly lose your confidence. “And now he will never be. He just saw me kissing his friend! That’s like incest!”

Yeonjun bursts out laughing at that. “What? That’s ridiculous. Do you even hear yourself?”

You want to be mad at him for trivializing how you feel. This is serious! You may have just lost your chance with Beomgyu! This is no laughing matter!

So then why are you laughing like he’s just cracked the funniest joke you’ve ever heard? “Oh my god, you’re right. What am I even thinking? This is stupid.” You huff out between cackles, “I’m so stupid.”

Yeonjun stops laughing first, gathering you in his arms and waiting for you to calm down. “You’re not stupid. You’re in love.”

“Yeah.” You confirm, bitterly.

“And he’s an ungrateful idiot.”

“Maybe.” You fiddle with your fingers. “But if there is a one percent chance I can be with him, I don’t want to ruin it by having him think I’m fucking his best friend.”

Yeonjun sighs, stepping back. “Fine, go to him. Explain what happened to him. But for the record, I think you’re making a huge mistake.”

“I know.”

______________________________

You scour the party looking for Beomgyu, but you can’t find him anywhere. Did he leave already? Is he that mad?

You lament your poor choices as you open up another door, stumbling across yet another couple engaged in less than savory activities with the woman spread out on the edge of the bed and the man with his face buried between her legs.

“Whoops, sorry!” You yelp, knee-jerk reaction to slam the door shut suddenly halted when the man kneeling on the floor turns towards you and you see an all too familiar face.

Beomgyu?!

They both stare at you, Haeun with her dress pushed up and Beomgyu with his lips glistening with something you don’t want to think about. He makes eye contact with you before he turns around and presses his face back between her legs.

That fucking slut.

You slam the door shut and storm off with another target in mind. When you spot the colorful haired man, you drag him behind you to one of the empty bedrooms you saw earlier.

"Hey, what’s going on--" You cut Yeonjun off with a kiss which he doesn’t resist much, making use of the unexpected opportunity. But when you separate, he takes the chance to ask, "What happened to Beomgyu?"

"Fuck him. I want you.” You kiss him again, suddenly nervous about what you’re going to ask now that you’re right in front of him. Still, you push through, murmuring against his lips, eyes sealed shut, "Want you to eat me out."

Unfortunately, Yeonjun doesn’t immediately give in as you had been praying he would, and he pulls back to ask you, "Are you sure?"

"Yes." You answer, still refusing to open your eyes. But the asshole won’t accept that.

“Look at me, doll.” He demands, cupping your face in his hands. You take a deep breath before opening them, looking him dead in the eyes. “I want it.”

"It just seems–"

"Do it, Yeonjun!" You snap then immediately regret it, feeling mortified at the possible rejection. God, you didn’t think this through, did you? Just because he wanted to kiss you, doesn’t mean he wants to eat you out in the middle of a party. He’s not Beomgyu. "Unless you don't want to."

Yeonjun lifts you up and drops you on the bed, the breath whooshing out of you as you make impact with the mattress. You don’t even get the chance to ask him what the hell he’s doing before he spreads your legs and gets between them. "It's my pleasure, doll."

He starts by licking over your panties, and you’re so glad he is easing you through it because even that makes you tingle. His tongue moves up and down your slit in slow, deliberate strokes, turning you on until you’re not sure if your panties are soaked because of your arousal or his saliva. And once it’s completely see-through, he hooks his finger under it, pulling it to the side.

The first direct touch of his hot tongue against your sensitive pussy has you jolting, your hands shooting out to grab at the sheets. But Yeonjun pulls away for a second, grabbing your hands and putting them on his head.

"You can hold onto my hair, doll." He grins, looking devastatingly handsome, “Pull on it when I do something you like.”

That’s a dangerous ask because you’re pulling his hair as soon as he puts his mouth on you again. Not that he minds, you can see his smirk as he stares up at you, tongue teasingly swirling around your swollen clit.

“Don’t tease.” You whimper, holding onto his hair tightly.

“Why not? You’ve teased me long enough, pretty girl.” He purrs, pressing soft kisses against your pussy while his thumb rubs maddeningly around your entrance.

“Yeonjun…” You whine, taking your hands away and trying to close your legs, but he pins your legs back down before returning your hands to his hair. “Keep your hands on me. I like it.”

“Pull my hair harder. I like it when you’re rough with me."

Beomgyu’s words ricochet inside your skull, tearing up your brain. No. Don’t think about him. He’s in another room with another woman, probably fucking her by now. Focus on the man who actually wants you.

“Did I lose you?” Yeonjun’s voice cuts through your tortured monologue.

You look at him, embarrassed at having been caught.

“Then let me make you forget about him.” He vows, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking on it, making your brain short-circuit.

“That’s it, doll. Just focus on me.” He flicks his tongue from side to side, causing electricity to shoot up to your belly.

“Oh god, Yeonjun!” You gasp, pulling at his hair, which just makes him do it with more fervor, alternating between rapid flicks and long languid licks up the entire length of your pussy. You’d be embarrassed by how quickly he builds up your high, if he didn’t look like he was enjoying it so much, moaning into your pussy and staring up at you as if he wants to eat you whole.

“Feels good?” He smirks, fingers finally breaching your empty pussy.

“Yes, yes!” You groan, head thrown back as he pumps his fingers inside you, his full lips latching onto your clit once more.

The feeling of his fingers filling you up, fucking you open, and the unrelenting attack on your clit from his mouth has you teetering on the edge in no time. But then an unwelcome image pops into your brain–Beomgyu with his messy hair and his lips swollen and glistening with arousal–and suddenly it wasn’t Yeonjun between your legs and it wasn’t Haeun Beomgyu was eating out…

No, it was you on the bed and Beomgyu between your legs, looking up at you with his big, brown eyes that seemed to beg you to cum, and you do. You have to bite down on your tongue to stop from screaming his name as you shudder and whine, thighs clamping around Yeonjun’s head.

Yeonjun.

You jerk up, orgasm still not quite passed, and blink the haziness away. God, you’re disgusting.

But Yeonjun has no idea what is going through your head. He has a big smile on his face, proud of himself for making you lose it so easily.

“You liked that, doll?” He climbs up your body to kiss you, and you hesitantly reciprocate, not wanting him to sense that anything is wrong. But when he starts getting handsy again and you feel his hard cock pressing against you, you quickly push him away.

"Wait. I can't–I'm sorry.” You stammer nervously.

“Oh. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just…” Whatever lie you were thinking of dies on your tongue when you make eye contact with him. You can’t lie to him. “I just need to go home."

“Of course.” He backs away, but you can see the disappointment on his face. “Is it… because of Beomgyu?”

You don’t reply, but that is all the answer he needed.

___________________________________

Still, he is gentleman enough to take you home.

“You didn’t have to do this, you know.” You tell him for the tenth time, feeling guilty after basically rejecting him.

“I know. I wanted to.” He reassures you once again, no hint of annoyance in his voice. “I know Beomgyu usually takes you home, but since he’s… occupied, I didn’t want you to walk home alone.”

“Right.” You mumble, staring at the ground as that painful image of Beomgyu between Haeun’s legs flashes in your mind. “Well, thank you… and I’m sorry. I just don’t think I’m ready yet.”

“Hey,” He walks towards you, propping your chin up with his finger. “You don’t have to apologize. You don’t owe me anything.”

“I know. I just wish things were different. I wish I wasn’t so pathetically in love with him that it feels wrong to even be with someone else. Which is stupid, I know. Beomgyu and I aren’t–” Your phone rings for the 10th time since you left the party, cutting you off, and you glare at the name flashing on the screen.

“Beomgyu again?”

“Yes.” You roll your eyes, silencing it.

“Answer it.”

You stare at him as if he grew a second head, and he rolls his eyes. “He’s probably worried about you. We left without saying a word to him.”

Damn it. You guess he’s right. You didn’t even think of that.

"Hello?" You press the phone to your ear but quickly move it away slightly at the immediate shouting coming from it.

"Where the fuck are you?"

"Home." You answer unenthusiastically, which just pisses Beomgyu off more. "You went home by yourself?"

"No, Yeonjun took me home." You elaborate nervously, scared of how he’s going to react, and boy, does he not disappoint. "Well this is just fucking great. I've been looking all over for you, freaked out of my mind that something happened to you and you're back home fucking my friend."

His words reignite your anger all over again. “I didn’t think you’d come up from between her legs long enough to notice.”

“So you’re getting back at me by fucking him?”

“I didn’t–you know what, Beomgyu. I can't deal with this right now. I'm going to bed."

"I’m not done–" You hang up on him, too exhausted to think about what any of this means.

"He's not happy, huh?"

"Nope." You sigh. What a fucking terrible night.

"I don't get him. If he's jealous, why doesn't he just ask you out?"

"He's not jealous. He's just–” Just what? Why is he even acting that way? What is he so angry about? Because you’re ‘fucking’ his friend? So what? “I don't know. It's complicated. We've been messing around and I guess he got annoyed when he saw us kissing."

“Well, are you guys dating?” Yeonjun asks and you almost laugh. “No. Nothing like that. Just… just messing around.”

"Then he has no right to be annoyed." He states simply, and he’s right. He doesn’t, and you can’t make sense of why he is so all you manage is to lamely mumble, "Well, he's protective of me."

To which Yeonjun snorts, "You mean possessive."

Is he? Why would he be? Is it because he is not used to you having a boyfriend before? Not that Yeonjun is your boyfriend.

"My brain hurts. I need to sleep." You groan, pulling at your hair in frustration before your hands fall to your sides with a slap. “I’m sorry, Yeonjun.”

“Don’t be.” He reassures you, “I’ll be here when that idiot inevitably does something to completely push you away.”

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A/N: as always I always love to hear feedback even if it's just how much you'd like to punch gyu lmao. currently i don't know how many parts the remaining plot will be divided into so it could be 2 or 3 more similar sized chapters to this.

just for fun, i'll do a poll every chapter to see if people change their minds on who they want oc to end up with. but i've already decided on what to do so the votes are just for fun

Taglist: @wonwooz1@yaorzu-blog@allylikesdabee@rkivezzs@malieno @leviathanlee26 @yomomas-stuff @kurisaiyunobara @girlwholovekpop @zuzuhasablog @viaaasdiary @ho3forkpop @skzvcr

#txt smut #tomorrow x together smut #beomgyu smut #yeonjun smut #fem!reader #dom!reader #sub!idol #sub!reader #dom!idol

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lady-ashfade · 3 months

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Favorite Jackson

Day of five celebration marathon

Yan!camp half blood x Male!Jackson!reader

-£ Ask: Yan camp half bloods (specifically Grover, Percy, and Annabeth) for Percy's older brother, also son of posiden who takes after Sally just SO much, and bakes cookies for everyone and takes care of them even if they are mad at him.

-£ words: 900

-£ warning: short, yandere behavior, protective over the reader, stalking themes, reader being a bit naive, drowning themes?

it was always the son of Poseidon to calm down the campers in their time of need. ares cabin hated that they couldn’t find it in themselves to be mean to him. they only wanted to be near him and fight anyone that came near him. even his own brother, percy.

y/n was always near his brother when he was at camp. he was protective over his little brother but everyone new that Percy was the one to take care of things. sure, y/n would glare at someone that would say something mean but it was percy who handled things much differently.

“do you have everything?” Y/n looked over his brother with a worded look in his eyes, looking so much like his mother.

“Yeah, calm down.” Percy smiled and laughed at his brother, “I’ve done this before.” y/n huffed out his cheeks and flicked his forehead.

“I’m worried about you! Now don’t be a little brat,” percy could only smirked and rub his forehead. “I baked some cookies for your trip, make sure you share with Annabeth.”

percy took the bag of blue cookies, “no problems.”

speaking of annabeth, she often watched him from afar to make sure no one bothered him. but she loved him like family. someone that took the roll of Luke when he left but annabeth would make sure he would never leave her. this time she was going to have family that stuck.

Grover, the satyr was very manipulating. he only liked it when y/n hung around the trio. he’d say that the other kids were mean to him so he could get attention. you had to take care of percy when he got picked on at school, so you were protective over anyone who got bullied.

“Guys,” you groan as they tug your arm around camp, “I was enjoying a meal.” Your own stomach making noises at the thought of food.

“We need some to watch us train,” percy looked up at his brother, “I thought you’d help me? Or, maybe- oh, I get it. You think it’s lame to help your little brother?” and you played right into his little trap.

“I can’t believe you’d say that, you know that’s not true.” You push his head and roll your eyes and end up following them to the training ground where they fought to get your praise and attention.

now, you did try and take care of the younger campers of any cabin but ares and aphrodites childs were clingy, and so were the hermes kids.

ares kids likes to try and impress you with their fighting skills and aggression. aphrodites kids like to tug you around and play with your hair, even if it was short, and make you learn how to braid.

hermes kids like to pull you away by any means necessary. infected someone’s clothes so they break out in hives and itch like crazy. maybe start to stealing things and hind them around. or, simply ask you to help them because you could never refuse.

percy hated everyone for stealing his brother away from him, didn’t they know you cared about him the most? as much as everyone hated to admit, but percy had you wrapped around his finger. just like his mom you wanted to care for him, make him happy and keep him safe.

all he had to do was look at you with his puppy eyes and say, “please big brother?” and it was like he was five again and needed your help to pick up his toys. hints why you always helped him do his chores.

but when it comes to protecting you? Percy doesn’t care who he has to team up with, someone is going down.

“I’m fine Percy, really.” You wiped the tear off your check and feel ashamed of crying in front of your brother. but you were so frustrated and embarrassed! you were a few years older then percy and still you couldn’t fight like him! Heck your own father didn’t trust you to go on missions with percy, or anyone else at camp.

“Don’t give me that,” Percy patted your shoulder with a small drop in his voice. you couldn’t see the darkness in his eye as he tried to soothe you.

“Who were you training with?”

as soon as you answer he knew exactly what he was going to do, have a little chat with that person. once he got you to calm down he gave you a smile. he offered to go get you something from the kitchens and you just nodded and stayed put in your shared cabin.

which is why he was next to clarisse who stood with her arms crossed. both had a glint in their eyes but for the first time not at each other but the kid on the ground.

“I swear I didn’t mean to hurt him! he asked me to teach him something but he didn’t do as I said,” the kid kept backing away from the two but they just kept creeping closer.

“And who said you could train them?” clarisse asked with darting tone.

“Yeah, who said you could train my brother? Out all people, you don’t have the right.” Percy hissed and leaps forward to grab ahold of the collar of his camp shirt.

“I think you need a lesson.” the boy whimpered and shook his head while pleading but it feel deaf to their ears.

clarisse took him from percy and dragged him to the lake as the sun had almost set. she threw and evil look at percy as the corner of her lips tugging into a smirk.

“water is your specialty, Jackson.” She threw him back down into the water.

“Show him what you got.”

Taglist: @itzmeme @ravenmedows @maria699669 @purplerose291

#yandere percy jackson x reader #yandere percy jackson #yandere pjo #platonic percy jackson #platonic percy jackson x reader #Percy Jackson x reader #x male reader #percy jackson x male reader #clarisse la rue x reader #yandere clarisse la rue #yandere clarisse la rue x reader #platonic clarisse la rue #yandere annabeth chase #yandere Grover underwood

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cutielando · 1 month

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conflict of interest ~ rafe cameron

my masterlist

Everyone on the island knew you were the Kook Princess. That title had long been taken from Sarah, specifically ever since you started dating Rafe Cameron, the renowned Kook Prince.

Life with Rafe was everything you had ever imagined it to be and so much more.

He took care of you, made sure you never lacked anything, spoiled you rotten with gifts, spa days, holidays, boat days, movie nights, adventures, everything you could ever think of.

You two loved each other more than anything, your shared love proving to be a force to be reckoned with.

However, not everybody believed that what you and Rafe had was unbreakable. Amongst that crowd was also Topper, Rafe's best friend.

Topper knew how Rafe was, they had known each other ever since they were little kids. He knew how possessive and protective Rafe could get over things, especially over you.

But he couldn't help it.

He couldn't help the way your presence made him feel, the way butterflies would just go wild inside of his stomach every time he would hear your laugh or see your smile, he would just go numb every time he would smell your perfume, the sweet flowery scent he had come to obsess over.

Breaking up with Sarah meant he got to see other people, explore the island a little more. And the lucky bee had been you.

You didn't like Topper. Not in the slightest. You had always found him a little weird and too much of a soft puppy dog who couldn't think for himself.

Your heart and everything belonged to Rafe and only to Rafe.

Of course, the both of you had seen the way Topper would stare at you at parties or when you would hang out with the other Kooks at someone's house. The way he would be way too eager to help you with anything just so he could get some time alone with you.

Rafe had been furious at first, of course. He couldn't even fathom the possibility of someone stealing you away from him. That was just not an option. He loved you way too much to let himself lose you.

Especially to someone like Topper.

Which is why the current situation you had found yourself in was not favorable for anybody.

Rafe had only left you alone for maybe 2 minutes while he went to the kitchen to get a refill for the both of you. You had been left talking to a good friend of yours when Topper suddenly appeared in front of you, drinking out of a red cup and swaying from side to side.

"Heyyyyy, Y/N" he was slurring so badly that you could barely understand what he was saying.

"Hi, Top" you smiled at him and redirected your attention back to the conversation you had been having with your friend.

That didn't seem to satisfy his need for conversation, because the next thing you know he was pulling your arm so he could get you to face him.

"Can we talk? I've got somethin I've been meanin to tell ya" he said, his grip not letting up.

You looked around, your eyes searching for Rafe. You knew Topper was harmless, but you were very uncomfortable with the way he was touching you and you knew Rafe would cause a scene if he saw it.

"Topper, I really don't think it's a good idea right now" you said, plastering a convincing fake smile on your face while subtly trying to get him to let go of your arm.

Your attempt proved unsuccessful.

"Come on, don't be a bitch. Rafe doesn't even have to know about this" Topper continued to insist, downing the remaining alcohol from his cup before grabbing your other arm. "I've been meaning to confess something to you, way before you and Rafe got together, I just didn't have the courage to do it. I think you need to know how I feel" his eyes were staring at you so hopeful, like a puppy in the rain.

It made you feel a little bad, but once you saw Rafe over Topper's shoulder marching through the crowd, his face contorted in anger, you knew a fight was most probably about to go down.

"You better watch what you're going to say very carefully" Rafe threatened from behind Topper, his eyes trained on the grip the blonde had on you.

You could see Topper's demeanor change, even drunk knowing that he shouldn't have even thought about messing with Rafe's girlfriend.

"Yo man, I was just playing a little, you know how I get at parties and shit" Topper finally let go of your arms before turning around to face your boyfriend, trying to talk himself out of the shitty situation he had found himself in.

"No, no, no. I'm curious now. What was the important thing that you wanted to tell my girlfriend while I wasn't here?" Rafe crossed his arms, his stance all that more threatening.

By this moment, you had backed down from the two with your friend, watching their interaction closely. You knew Rafe was about to lose his shit any moment, and you also knew better than to get yourself involved while he was this tense.

"I was just trying to make conversation and keep her company while you were away. You know how many creeps are at these parties" Topper slurred, sniffing and searching Rafe's eyes for any indication as to what he was thinking.

"Topper, I'm going to give you one last chance to tell me what you were doing with my girlfriend before I beat your ass so hard you won't feel your body" Rafe's voice had now turned downright dangerous, which you surprisingly found hot.

"I wasn't trying to do anything, man, she's yours and I would never-" Topper couldn't finish his sentence before Rafe punched him in the face, making Topper drop down on the floor in front of you.

Rafe kneeled down over his body and started punching him repeatedly, each time repeating "Stay the fuck away from my girlfriend" until he had to be physically pulled away from him.

One look in your direction and you knew your night had come to an end. You took his hand and let him lead you to his truck, not minding the blood that had transferred to your hand.

"Are you okay?" he questioned once you were both in the safe space of his car, his breathing now back to normal.

You nodded, looking worriedly at his bloody knuckles.

"I should be asking you that" you mumbled as you took his right hand in yours, inspecting the bruises already starting to form.

He shrugged, seemingly not in any pain which was a relief to you. "I'm fine, Topper has it worse than me. I'm just glad nothing happened and I came in time"

You leaned over the console and kissed his cheek, showing him that you weren't mad at him for getting into yet another fight.

"My knight in shinning armor. What would I do without you?" you joked, but there was truth behind your words. You really didn't know what you would do without him.

"I love you" he kissed your palm, intertwining your fingers with his.

"I love you too, my big bad boy"

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qwimchii · 7 months

Text

𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘫𝘰𝘩𝘯𝘯𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘩 — 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴

𝘫𝘰𝘩𝘯𝘯𝘺 "𝘴𝘰𝘢𝘱" 𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘹 𝘧!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

— 𝘴𝘧𝘸 & 𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘸

ʚ⁺˖ everyone has that inner child in them that wants to be nurtured by their partner, and Johnny actively seeks that out in a person

ʚ⁺˖ he is not immature, clingy, or needy—he just wants to be with someone who makes him feel safe enough to just be him and be in that soft, little boy energy sometimes

ʚ⁺˖ i think that Johnny was a bit of a popular boy in high school. the nice kind who was a bit hyperactive and the class clown and probably got voted to be homecoming court king just because he was just funny and everyone liked him…

ʚ⁺˖ really fucking naughty too. was definitely having mini little science experiments with gunpowder, matches, and fireworks in the backyard with his brothers as a kid!!! he was blowing things up even before he got an education and license for it

ʚ⁺˖ but he was also one of those kids who everyone liked but he was kind of always distant… untouchable. it was always like he was focused on bigger brighter things—wanted to join the sas asap and wanted to grow up faster than everyone else.

ʚ⁺˖ he was that kind of senior that you had a crush on in high school but knew you had no chance because his attention was just elsewhere—not like he was mean at all. he was always kind and didn’t judge others, but he wanted an unconventional path that was different than most. he was also that kind of senior who would be friends with anyone… even if they were “weird”. he didn't care because he was focused on other things, so lots of social norms/constraints didn’t really register half the time in his brain.

ʚ⁺˖ really fucking smart too. too smart. he was outsmarting his teachers since elementary school. not super book smart, doesn’t know all these specific facts, but he just understands. really high social iq as well!! everyone thinks that he lives too fast, that he’s funny, that he’s a bit brash and rough around the edges, but inside, he’s actually very in-tune with his surroundings—people’s energy, your energy

ʚ⁺˖ because of his hyperactivity in high energy situation with lots of people, lots of things going on, he needs that safe space to just unwind and be like :]

ʚ⁺˖ this :] literally embodies johnny when he’s content with you—his pretty little safe space. especially because he wanted to grow up so fast, join sas as soon as he possibly could, and probably grew up in a catholic family with quite a bit of kids, his inner child didn’t get much attention.

ʚ⁺˖ once this man notices you for who you are on the inside, how nurturing and calm you can be, how you can see his inner child, he is head over heels. head over heels. obsessed, obsessed, obsessed.

ʚ⁺˖ doesn’t really know what to do with himself and builds up all this nervous, slidey energy around you. like all his insides are sliding around too much and he just needs to anchor himself to something (you).

ʚ⁺˖ didn’t date much when he was younger but enjoyed one-night stands every now and then, never anything serious. didn’t think he really wanted anything serious. he had seen his siblings and their families and was content with remaining a proud uncle of ten (or more). suddenly, after meeting you, and all your softness, something about it innocent and carefree, he didn’t know what to do.

ʚ⁺˖ it was like everything he hadn’t really experienced in his early 20s—that first, serious relationship that most of his childhood friends went through in college—came rushing to him.

ʚ⁺˖ his first instinct is to get close to you—become friends first. he’s the type that wants to have a really natural connection so that the line between lover and friends is blurred. not in a bad, miscommunication way. just a natural, this feels so right way.

ʚ⁺˖ he’s intuitive, remember? thinks with his own different kind of logic that most people would find confusing or a little strange if they really noticed it which isn’t so easy under his funny, easygoing exterior… not you though. he knew you thought of his unique mind as endearing, because no matter how many more vulnerable sore spots he revealed to you, you wouldn’t even flinch. you’d just give him that pretty smile and reassure him and he'd be obsessed all over again.

ʚ⁺˖ he also wants a fun lover! wants to have fun and crack jokes!! you guys probably have two and a half million inside jokes that are way too much to unpack for others to understand. even if you’re not a naturally talkative, outgoing, or joking kind of person, the conversations Johnny will take you down are always strange, strange rabbit holes that draw out the most fun discussions you’ve ever had. he has chemistry with almost anyone, but you especially because he’s just fascinated.

ʚ⁺˖ starts giving you pet names once you become closer friends. bonnie, bonnie lass, kitty, or kitty cat. if anyone in 141 calls you kitty cat/kitty, it’s definitely Johnny. “hey little kitty cat.” “how’s my little kitty cat doin’ today? hm? yeah, bonnie? tell me about yer day. ” over the phone…

ʚ⁺˖ soon enough your hangouts becomes more intimate and personal. it’s a little confusing because you’re friends but you’re not?? but every time you’re with him, all that confusion just melts away, because it’s just him. Johnny. you’re very comfortable with one another—does it even really matter if you define your relationship with him?

ʚ⁺˖ watching movies cuddled on the couch, sharing shitty ramen recipes and having whole-ass mock cooking shows at 2am for shits and giggles, wriggling into each other’s beds during a sleepover, facetiming a lot, you’re practically attached at the hip virtually and not. all your friends are onto you immediately, sniffing out this newfound “friend” like hounds. it’s obvious to everyone else that you can’t possibly just be friends… but how obvious is that to you? not much.

ʚ⁺˖ a touchy boyfriend friend. can definitely imagine a lazy weekend when he stayed over at your place on the couch after a long night of binging movies or k-dramas, and in the morning, he’s at the entrance of your bedroom, yawning and stretching out like a cat and shamelessly shirtless, much to your enjoyment embarrassment. jokingly asks if he can join you, because you just look so cute and comfortable curled up in those sheets like a little kitty cat, and when you say yes, he’s over in a flash, burrowing in the warm blankets beside you, all content like :] while watching your sleepy face.

ʚ⁺˖ brushes away the hairs from your face and you whisper back and forth in the soft morning hours, letting him gently peck at the soft places on your face when he wants. till one day, just like any other day, you’re laying in bed and he’s gently pecking at your face, forehead, nose, eyelids, cheeks, and then the corner of your mouth, and you gently turn your head and his soft lips are on yours, bristly beard grating against your chin. but you don’t mind it in the way he’s kissing you so deliciously, tongue sliding between your lips as he crawls over you and cages you beneath his weight.

nsfw

ʚ⁺˖ the thing that would spur you over that thin line from friends to lovers was the incessant want you had for each other

ʚ⁺˖ Johnny more than anything. can’t get enough of you—sometimes gets hard just at the thought of you, which is embarrassing because he feels like he can’t control himself when it happens

ʚ⁺˖ during long months away from his favorite kitty cat, touches himself to the thoughts of your pretty smile and soft skin in breathy gasps, eventually caving in when he got too desperate and called you and felt so so so bad for lying to his sweet little kitty over the phone.

ʚ⁺˖ “are you alright, Johnny?” you’d ask him, brow furrowed and lip caught between your teeth at the sound of his strange, husky gasps over the phone. and he just grunts back, “mhmm. m’perfect kitty, just keep talkin’ to me. jus’ like that.”

ʚ⁺˖ it wasn’t like it was just one-sided. while Johnny is a very, very eager lover with a crazy high sex drive just for you, you’d been suffering from the same side effects. lingering in the same close-knit spaces when he was on leave, his scent lingered on different things—your pillows, bedsheets, clothes, and just the smell of him was enough to make you squirm and get you all dripping wet. sometimes it gets so bad to the point where you humped a pillow that smelled like him, thinking about how much you ached for the burly, warm muscle of his bare body sliding against yours in bed when you cuddled.

ʚ⁺˖ sometimes, when he was over at your place, tangled with him after a particularly hot summer night, you’d wake up with your clothes half-stripped off and Johnny almost naked just behind you, the strong muscle of his chest digging into your bare shoulder blade. it was embarrassing, realizing that you had done that in the middle of the night without even realizing it. and when you tried to slide out of the sheets to discreetly pull up your shorts again and put on a shirt, he’d growl, pulling your back into the blankets and not even caring how bare you were, one burly arm beneath your head and the other around your waist, fingertips sliding up to rest in the place right between your tits, but not touching.

ʚ⁺˖ his morning voice would be all gravely by your ear, teasing, “my little kitty get hot last night?” when you would start squirming in his arms in protest, half-mewling for him to let go, but not really wanting him to let go, he’s just chuckle, his hips flush to your ass and grinding lazy circles of his morning wood into your plush flesh. “s’alright, kitty, just relax.”

ʚ⁺˖ and when you finally do fuck, after long heady months of endless teasing, lingering touches and a blatant amount of skin on display for each other, Johnny suffering a record amount of blue-balls in your presence and the sweet smell of you making him downright dizzy, you’d be fucking like rabbits—Johnny going round after round after round and making you wonder if he had a refractory period at all.

ʚ⁺˖ so so so desperate and fast and rough, hand snaking in your hair and pushing your head down into the mattress as his strong hips snap against your ass, other hand snaking down your stomach to rub too fast circles against your clit.

ʚ⁺˖ he can be soft—naturally is rough. spits on your cunt and in your mouth, pulls your hair, slaps your ass and watches with a greediness the way it creates addicting little ripples over your skin. loves turning your ass cheeks a pretty shade of pink. loves your ass in general—always groping it in private, doing discrete little grabs in public. fucks your mouth too, thick cock head against the back of your throat as he wipes away your tears and coos, praising you for being his good little kitty cat, with suck a fuckable throat and pretty little swollen, fuckable lips. s’yer fault yer such a fuckin’ tease. his head tips back when you swallow around his pulsing head.

ʚ⁺˖ does sweet little check-ins while making you see stars. soft pecks against your lips, kissing away any tears, brushing his fingers over your hair softly sometimes. just to make sure you’re alright while he’s fucking you so good and rough and overstimulating you till you can’t even talk and you’re just babbling for more while his thick, dripping cock is rutting into you and his hand is squeezing around your throat, letting out low, throaty grunts and groans—just the way he know you love it. loves degrading you too. you’re his sweet little slut, his sweet little whore, pretty little slag. for no one but him. absolutely no one.

ʚ⁺˖ and oooh this man is possessive. the most possessive in 141 (me thinks). can’t stand it when men are even in your vicinity—not because he isn’t confident. he very much is. it’s super sexy to you, too, the way he carries himself with a straight posture and big, broad shoulders. he’s just so so so protective over his sweet little kitty cat. can’t have these awful men corrupting you :( that’s exclusively for him!

ʚ⁺˖ but when he is feeling for a softer round… or maybe you are… it’s usually after you’ve been fucking rough for hours and he’s begging you for just one more, pretty, lifting your leg up and slipping his hard, pulsing cock into your puffy, swollen cunt while you whine and cry, tears spilling down your cheeks.

ʚ⁺˖ he’ll fuck you lazily on his side just like that, arm wrapped around your waist while the other massages soothing circles into your twitching clit, shushing you softly as you half-sob, whispering kind things in your ear.

ʚ⁺˖ “so good for me, kitty. need ye te come one more time. can’t ye do that for me? hm, kitty cat? aye, i know ye can, i ken you will, bonnie. just for me. aye, you can do it, there ye go, just like that, such a good lass takin’ this thick cock—” babbling incessantly into your ear, coaxing you through your last bone-shaking orgasm, little mewls falling from your lips as he presses his cock right up to your swollen cervix, stuffing liquid warmth into your womb.

ʚ⁺˖ and once he’s spent, sperm effectively drained from his tight, throbbing balls, he’ll smile at you in victorious satisfaction, kissing all over you in sweet little apologies for how rough he’s been with you. sometimes he’ll pay special attention to the puffy lips of your pussy, kissing them and then suckling on your clit, enjoying the way you squirm with overstimulation, whimpering soft little no mores and he’ll pull away with a smirk, amused with the cute little pout on your face.

ʚ⁺˖ then, he’ll crawl back over you, wrapping you up in his strong arms, feeling absolutely content that he won’t be sharing you—his sweet, gorgeous little safe space—with any other person in the entire world :]

no i did not 100% have soap brain rot at 12am and write this....... i would never..... especially not on a school night........

taglist: @ivybeeloved

#cod mw2 #johnny mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap smut #soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap x you #johnny mactavish smut #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #soap headcanons #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x you #johnny mactavish headcannons #cod headcanons

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luvtak · 7 months

Text

jealousy, jealousy, skz

✧ pairing 0t8 x gn!reader

✧ genre/tw fluff!!! disgusting beautiful fluff, the tiniest smidgeon of angst… jealousy (obvs), just boys being cute and whiny lol

✧ w/c 2262 (around 250 each)

✧ a/n literally stayed up all night writing this lmao, hope you like it <333

Chan: So jealous immediately. I think he feels a lot of ownership over the people he loves, not in a weird toxic way, more like ‘these are my people and I'm going to love and protect them’ way, so when anybody looks or speaks to you in flirty ways, he gets uncomfortable really fast. Tries so hard not to make it noticeable or jeopardize your good mood, but is actually so upset about the situation it’s hard to hide. His body language changes right away, all of his easy posture and quick laughs disappear and all that’s left is little smiles and taut muscles. It has less to do with someone thinking his s/o is pretty and more to do with not knowing if the person is dangerous or not, and worrying for your physical and emotional safety–last thing he wants is for you to be hurt in any way, and having someone blatantly look at you reminds him that truly anything can happen :( I don’t think he could be jealous of the Kids at all, they’re literally his children like what are they gonna do? Thinks it's so cute when they hug you or ask for help with something, and wants more than anything for you to get along, so he’s only happy when you do. Only tells you he was jealous when you’re alone laying in bed at night, talking about anything and everything and admitting to be upset about the whole experience. Genuinely so confused when you tell him you know, and never learns that he is so obvious with his emotions–whether positive or negative.

Minho: Honestly, I don’t think he really does get jealous… He seems so secure to me that I feel like it wouldn’t even cross his mind to get upset, actually likes it a little–you’re beautiful and you’re his and he’s proud of that. Except for if it’s one of the other boys, then suddenly very annoyed and possessive haha. Not that he thinks any of them would actually do anything with you, but I think it just hits closer to home–like they could. He is a little mean about it at first, but it quickly becomes sulking, like a child not getting enough attention. His hold on your thigh gets tighter and his fingers wound with yours start pressing in more so it hurts a little, I can see him spacing out a little too–inwardly thinking about all the reasons the person thinks what they’re doing is alright. Most of the time, the boys aren’t doing anything, but something specific they do or say triggers the jealousy and won’t go away. He’s a boy who won’t come clean right away (even though you know exactly what’s happening), instead he waits till you go to bed to press himself on top of you and whine about how rude it was that they were flirting with you (they were not). Needs endless validation and physical reminders of your love for him before he goes back to being himself. Always acts like it didn’t happen in the morning and will laugh at you for thinking it was possible he could have felt that way, while having admitted to it 9 hours before.

Changbin: Very, very cute about his jealousy. Would never mention that it bothers him, wouldn’t point out someone’s stares or ask you to change anything about yourself to garner less attention. Is so proud of his little baby being so pretty they get noticed, but that doesn’t take away the fact that people shouldn’t come up to you. His jealousy would be so specific, he wouldn’t really care if it was just stares or people checking you out, but as soon as someone tries to make a move he is seething. Stares them up and down and looks so intimidating that even you are a little shocked, keeps this attitude until you leave and then needs to be coddled and loved until he will be back to normal. Loves how close to the boys you are but hates how that means he has to share you, he loves being the only one to know special things about you and gets grumpy so quick when he realizes other people know things too. Becomes so, so, so clingy when he’s jealous–hands never leaving your skin, not even for a second. His a million kisses a day becomes two million and he will be stitched to your side. Needs at least a two week recovery period where he is babied and taken care of before he can get over the silly feelings and remember how in love you are. Will not admit to it ever, it could be years in the future and he’d still say you didn’t know what you were talking about. Tries to act so tough, but is really just the sweetest boy to ever exist.

Hyunjin: Gets jealous over silly things and will make it your problem; most of the times it's just a joke, something to get you to fawn all over him and kiss him a dozen times. But because of this, it’s hard to tell when he really is jealous, characterized by melodrama and many questions asking if you’ve ever thought about not being with him come out after someone shoots their shot with you and fails. He is such a romantic that his s/o not being as fully in as he is would be something that would really worry him. Most of the time he can see how in love you are and recognize how strong your relationship is, but as soon as there is someone getting in the way of that it would be hard for him to ignore. I can’t see him getting too jealous over the boys, but would improvise drama level monologues of jealousy if he sees you sitting a little close to one of them on the sofa. One of the only boys where I think he would try to make it up to you, while the others may need comfort from their s/o, I think Hyunjin would feel guilty for second-guessing your relationship even if it was a completely normal emotion he felt toward it. Gives slow kisses and soft sorry’s for hours before he can listen to you tell him why you’re not mad. Loves so hard and so well that jealousy is such a malignant feeling to him, that he would try to separate himself and your relationship from it as soon as he could.

Han: Truly his worst nightmare. He would be such a cozy, sweet, domestic partner that it would probably be pretty rare to go out somewhere instead of staying in, and his mood would be demolished so fast if someone was looking at you or hitting on you in any way. Overthinking and anxiety flow as soon as he notices, and really needs to work his way up to confronting the situation. I believe he would succumb to his thoughts a little and need a lot of comfort from you to feel better about it. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, or think anything could ever happen, but it’s such a reminder of the uncertainty that life brings that it makes him sad. Another one who wouldn’t really get jealous around the boys, but there are specific situations that would bring him down a little–like say you shared a snack with Hyunjin or watched his favorite movie with Seungmin, he is about to become a murderer. Just couldn’t take you doing any casually domestic activity with anyone else that it would annoy him to see it happen. Will be in desperate need of kisses and cuddles to make him feel better, but if he is jealous enough he may pretend like he doesn’t want any just so you could insist and unconsciously give him that validation that he needs. Demands at least two days of pure movie time with you to feel fully back to normal, and will in fact throw a fit if those needs are not met. He is just a sweet, pouty baby normally so it’s not surprising that under the right conditions these traits get magnified tenfold, but it’s okay because he’s so cute.

Felix: About to cry fr. I feel like he doesn’t like feeling any negative emotions associated with you, so when he does it hurts him beyond belief. Trusts you with his life, but as soon as he hears someone hitting on you he gets so sad. Hates that other people can talk to you lol, would rather the only people you speak to be your friends, his friends and your loved ones. He’s not possessive at all, but I do think he genuinely worries about people speaking to you and hurting your feelings or making you uncomfortable, so with the jealousy he is also just so concerned about the person's intentions. Sometimes I think he’d get really mad too, he is such a lovey person that there is no world in which everyone in the area doesn’t know he’s your boyfriend, so when anyone comes up to you he would also be confused at why they thought that was okay. Somehow gets even closer to you; fully wrapped around your bones like a secondskin, walking everywhere with you like you’re doing a three-legged race, a million kisses pressed everywhere his eyes can see. I don’t think he would get jealous about one of the boys being too close to you, he loves you all so much and trusts everyone that it wouldn’t even cross his mind to be jealous about it unless he was making a joke. He is definitely the fastest of all the boys to admit to it, he is so emotionally intelligent and kind that he’d let you know as soon as he felt it was a good time. In conclusion, he is a precious angel and we all know it.

Seungmin: Genuinely the most annoying little gremlin. Turns it on you immediately as if somehow you asked the person to keep sneaking peeks at you. Literally starts making fun of you, mockingly saying ‘wow you’re sooo pretty’ to cover up how upset he actually is about it. I feel like he gets confused when other people find you attractive, not because you’re not, but because you’re his and he just doesn’t think anyone should be looking at you for too long. Will not listen to you that maybe if he actually acted like your boyfriend in public people wouldn’t hit on you haha, he doesn’t see how never touching you and constantly teasing you doesn’t read boyfriend. If it’s one of the boys he’s jealous of and not just some rando, god save them; the meanest glares and most biting jokes he can come up with. Fronts so much in public, but as soon as you’re behind doors he is all over you–kisses all over and a dozen reminders about how much he loves you. Laughs in your face when you ask him if he was jealous, ‘do you want me to be?’ with the biggest side eye. Although I do think he is secretly a huge sap when it comes to his s/o, and will not accept you thinking he doesn’t care even if pretends he doesn’t, so apologizes really quickly if he sees you getting hurt by the nonchalance. Even though he won’t admit to it for at least a week, (everyone knows he was upset about it), he’s taking that to his grave–at least until you look at him for a little too long and he gets freaked out and cops to it lmao.

Jeongin: The fussiest little baby. Like seriously, pouting/stomping feet/crocodile tears fussy baby. See’s someone looking at you at a coffee shop and immediately begins overthinking: ‘do they like them?’ ‘Is that person cuter than me?’ ‘They know we’re a couple right? Right?!’ This all happens in a series of five minutes. Now, he isn’t the most touchy in public–mostly just a hand on your back or fingers intertwined in your pocket, but it should be obvious enough that you’re there together. Immediately stares at the person, all while pretending he isn’t upset, but you can tell right away. For one, the hand on your back suddenly wraps around your tummy to press your back against his front and his head leans down to curl into your neck. Secondly, and most importantly he starts whining about how pretty you are. Not in a cutesy way, like he’s genuinely frustrated that you’re good looking, so pretty that other people notice it too. His bottom lip is jutted out and his eyes are so wide, and you just know. You won’t say anything until you get home for fear of embarrassing him, but he’s noticeably more touchy throughout the day; holding you to him around the boys and glaring at any stranger who looks at you too long. Gets jealous even faster if it's about one of the Kids, has no idea why Chan would be talking to you that long and tries to will him away with his mind–is so embarrassed when you tell him what you were really talking about lol because it was definitely him. When you finally ask him about it later he’ll laugh and act like you’re crazy, as if he hadn’t been acting like a lunatic all day, until apologizing and yelling at you for being too beautiful. All in all very cute and pouty and very charming <3

#skz #stray kids #skz x reader #skz scenarios #stray kids x reader #chan x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #i.n x reader #skz fluff #stray kids fluff

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cinnbar-bun · 2 months

Text

Gifts OP Characters Give you for Valentine’s Day

Rating: SFW

A/n: happy Valentine’s Day!! Enjoy this short little thing. Vday is kinda messy for me cuz I’m allergic to chocolate so 😭 Oofie lmao. Chopper is platonic only!!!

Luffy: He is very earnest and most of his “affection” is shown through actions, so he’ll probably be more physically affectionate and want you by his side all day. Would gift you some food to share and maybe a single flower (he accidentally crushed it but it’s so cute)

Zoro: Your favorite drink. He probably would drink lots of sake, but if you don’t drink sake/alcohol in general, he buys you your favorite soda, coffee, tea, or sparkling juice etc. to drink beside you. Prefers a more romantic gesture of drinking at night alone with you under the stars.

Nami: Chocolate covered tangerines. Or if you’re allergic to both/either/don’t care for those, she gives you a nice piece of matching jewelry to wear with her.

Usopp: A heart-shaped device. Dunno what that device would specifically be but it’s probably based on whatever you needed and he decided to spruce it up for you.

Sanji: Mr. Prince does everything. Bugs you two dozen glitter roses, large teddy bears, and heart shaped everythings. Gives the gifts to you all day and makes sure to make a romantic vday dinner with you. Lots of kisses.

Chopper: cotton candy!!! And it’s pink!!! And kinda looks like a heart!! (Please ignore the way he wants to take a bite of it… or don’t and just forfeit all your possessions to him).

Robin: A lovely scrapbook and some flowers. She likes homemade gifts for you and her, so she made sure to buy those for you to always carry the memories you two shared with each other.

Franky: a miniature boat with figures of you and him he dubs the ‘love boat’. It’s so cheesy but it’s so expertly crafted and made you can’t help but be l happy about it.

Brook: a new song just for you. Brook is always happy to perform for you, and you’re his biggest muse so he’s always got you on the brain. He crafts a love song just to express his feelings for you.

Jinbei: a nice new tea and some desserts for you two to indulge in and relax with. Sweets are always better with you <3

Buggy: New makeup and a matching outfit with him. He loves when your outfits complement his so he wants to have you dress up in a similar fashion to him!

Mihawk: Nice homemade meals and a romantic dinner. He’s extra attentive and romantic today, making sure to pepper you in kisses and hold you close to him.

Crocodile: Expensive gifts made with gold and lots of flowers. Excess is the name, and that’s Crocodile’s game. He is happy to present you with a room full of gifts and then murmur to you he is happy to have you beside him the rest of the day (and night).

Law: Says he doesn’t believe in this yet he got you nice (and a healthier version) of some of your favorite foods. Also some flowers too, which he extensively looked up the meaning of so he could confess the feelings he’s too tsun to admit (if you care to notice-)

Corazon: Says you don’t need a gift, since your love is the best gift in the world. Just kidding, he gets you flowers and offers to take the day off to just do whatever you want.

Doflamingo: Awwwww you were expecting flowers? Maybe even chocolates? No, he’s got you a new outfit and you better be ready soon cuz he’s got a reservation at a fancy restaurant for the both of you.

Shanks: Also says you don’t need a gift because he’s the greatest thing ever and your love is just so strong with each other and- okay okay, he’s being serious now. He got you that one trinket you were eyeing at the island back there that you thought he didn’t notice you were eyeing but he did because he’s like that.

Beckman: Gruff man who is offering to take care of you today and make sure you’re completely relaxed and not lifting a finger. If the others try to get you to work, he’s lecturing them. Also wants to just spend time with you quietly.

Ace: Big teddy bear!!! It’s so cute!!! Just like you!!! He had to get it!! Might also accidentally set it on fire from getting flustered when you kiss his cheek.

Sabo: Gentleman- he gets you traditional gifts associated with Valentines Day, but then offers to take you to an untraditional date spot.

Koala: Girl put her hardest effort into making your favorite sweets/food. She wants a romantic meal with you and to spend time not working for a night.

Perona: … hello??? You’re supposed to be getting HER gifts??? She’s a princess, why are you bugging? Okay… she’ll admit, she made you a cute gothic outfit so you can be just as cute as her. She demands romantic movies and cuddles.

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sheisjoeschateau · 3 months

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"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." | PART III

⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

CHAPTER WARNINGS: mega plot-driven smut ahead in this part of the story. you've been warned. MINORS, DNI. 18+

***

Despite everything, you and Steve both get through battling Vecna. You both grin and bear it. You both set aside your differences when the moment calls for it.

Just like you have before. Many times.

And in the midst of it all, you can't help but wonder about your uncle. How he's doing. If he's somewhere in his bunker still, hopefully drinking less (ideally, not at all) and keeping up his phone calls with Joyce. You'd told her to keep tabs on him, and you also told your uncle to keep tabs on her. They needed each other. You had the kids and the teens, but they needed each other. And sure, your uncle has you. Always. But you have to work, and babysit, and hang around a guy who hates your guts because the circumstances won't permit otherwise.

Eddie and Robin really stick up for you. They do. They really like you. Steve can’t stand it.

Even Nancy doesn’t mind you. Honestly, she’s scared of you more than anything. Steve doesn’t care.

The kids love you. Steve won’t make them hate you. He never would. But he won’t endorse their kind sentiments about you either.

More groups are formed, along with more plans. Scary, life-threatening plans.

You stay behind with Dustin and Eddie, knowing that Steve is quietly a basket case over the concept leaving Dustin alone without having him there to protect him from all this shit, the way he has before. With the demodogs, the Russians, and everything up to this point. That kid is his brother. His son.

It’s the only time that Steve tells you thank you.

And he sincerely means it.

By the grace of some unspeakable force, you manage to not only keep Dustin alive...but also Eddie. The bats have done their damage, and you've got some damage yourself. Though not nearly as bad as Eddie. You can withstand yours with adrenaline and the sheer need to protect one of your kids and get this metalhead back to the real world so that he can get proper medical attention.

When Steve and the girls all get back to the three of you there, after all the shit hits the fan - you, Steve, Nancy, Robin and Dustin all manage to get Eddie back across the gate and get him majorly patched up. Thanks to Dr. Owens.

You keep Eddie hidden at Murray's bunker. You're shocked to find it empty, your worry growing more every single minute. But Steve tries to assure you that your uncle is likely fine, probably just out to eat or something. However... even he knows that is not true. Murray does not go anywhere.

"Bauman," he's saying to you, softly. So softly. Softer than he's ever spoken to you once. "He's gonna be okay. I promise. We're here, alright?"

Two days later, Jonathan and his Cali crew all show up. Nancy and him are reunited.

And you watch Steve break.

He doesn’t let it show, not really. But you see it. Both you and Robin do. You let her comfort him. He needs his best friend, much more than he needs you. Especially in this situation. You are undoubtedly the last source of comfort for him in this specific instance.

You reunite with your Uncle Murray, who has returned with Joyce and — to your surprise — a very much alive Hopper. It’s a beautiful reunion, as you all hug tightly.

You all fucking lived, bitch.

Given the new flurry of debris-snow-shit in the air, you all end up having to take shelter.

Steve volunteers his house, given that his parents fled to their vacation home and he told them he wasn’t going. They ditch him, so he has the house all to himself. This time, he doesn’t have to be alone though. He has his real family.

You all move into the Harrington House. Lord knows it’s big enough. But it’s also really tight, for two people who can’t stand each other unless there’s a really ugly monster guy waltzing around that needs to be killed along with his multi-species army of little uglies.

Given the close quarters, on top of the fact that you all can’t leave the house much unless it’s for supplies, you and Steve have no choice but to coexist.

He still resents you, especially seeing Nancy and Jonathan are now getting along again and seem to be doing better. But it's much more subdued now, and you both find a way to talk. Which happens mainly because of you, initiating.

You learn more about Steve's home life, given the pictures everywhere throughout the house. They're all pretty stiff, lacking warmth. You figured that Steve was a pretty lonely trust fund baby, and being that you're a lonely child you can relate to the loneliness that comes with that. Not the trust fund part. Just the only-child-syndrome part, which you know perfectly well forces you to either become very well acquainted with yourself...or hate yourself even more. Steve clearing did not lean into becoming his own source of reliability and companionship, the way that you did. And it made you understand him better. It made you understand why he needed to be around the likes of Carol and Tommy H. He did not know how to be alone with himself.

"I think my dad and I don't even like the same beer," Steve scoffs, allowing himself a humorless chuckle. You don't laugh with him, instead giving him a soft look. An apology with your eyes.

"And my mom, she just...I dunno. Sometimes, I wonder why she never left him."

You let Steve reveal as little or as much as he wants to. It just depends on the day.

The two of you watch out for the kids. You both go with them to visit Max in the hospital. You even initiate finding a way to get her to stay there while in a coma, thanks to enlisting the help of your uncle to help enlist the help of Dr. Owens. The kids love you for that.

Steve doesn’t love you… But he appreciates you.

A lot. He's beginning to find appreciation for you, for a lot of things.

Your uncle clocks the very niche tension between the two of you, now that you’re all under the same roof and he’s given no choice but to.

And damn, it makes him curious. He is, after all, the witch doctor of love…

Nevertheless, Murray takes his time choosing when to strike.

As you and Steve both help nurse Eddie back to health, and read to Max in her coma (which leads to both of you just simply talking), and make the kids laugh together, and even make conversation with Nancy and Jonathan (…it’s very double date ish) Murray watches his niece — and mannnnnn, is he amuuuuuused.

One night, you and Steve stay up to share some drinks with the adults. It’s the first time that the two of you actually make each other really laugh, heartily. The drinks help.

That’s sort of Murray’s plan. Vodka is, after all, the holy grail.

Even Eddie joins, along with Robin. But Steve sits next to you. Not his best friend, or the new friend he’s made in the metalhead. Nope, he sits his perfect, hunky ass that makes all the ladies drool right next to little ole you.

And damn, do you both laugh.

Murray’s never seen you laugh that hard with anyone in his life. He wonders if you’ve ever laughed that way at all.

And the way that Harrington looks at you? Especially when you’re not looking… Holy shit.

And the way you look at him the same way... makes Murray grin ear to ear like a mischievous kid with the plan to wreak havoc.

Hopper and Joyce are so settled into their relationship, and Jonathan seems to be winning back the love of Nancy. Eddie and Robin are so single it hurts, but it's legendary too. And you? Steve? Well, you guys are mortal enemies. And yet somehow, sitting here in the Harrington's living room with glasses of chilled vodka, belly-laughing over anything -- you and Steve exude more chemistry than all of them combined.

So when everyone goes to bed, and Murray catches you alone, he grills you. Not like the others. Nah, you’re family. He’ll cut you some slack.

…not much, though.

It sobers you right up.

"Do not tell me for one second that you don't think he's gorgeous," your uncle is saying in a low voice. You're both standing in his bedroom, having fetched him a tall glass of water which turned out just be a way to fucking lure you into his witchdoctor trap.

"I love you Uncle Murray. I really do. But this theory? -- is not one of your other bullseye's."

"Face it, kiddo," your uncle is smirking. "Your uncle's never wrong. You're just never the one on the other end of his lectures when he's making astute observations. You're always contributing to it. But this time? You're the leading lady, darling."

"False."

"You like Steve."

"Murray...!"

"You like Steve..."

You try to tell your uncle that everything he is saying is nonsense. Steve hates you. He absolutely hates you. Loathes and despises you, and plans to do so until you’re all particles of dust.

“Plus, he is so fucking annoying and whiny and entitled and has zero self respect unless it’s up against someone who calls him out for his shit,” you tell your uncle, gesturing to yourself on the last part. “Steve Harrington is a cocky guy who would just rather suffer in his own misery than ever see or lean into being this...this incredible man that he's...capable of being, the role model he has become to those kids, who love him, they love the human most deserving of being put first —”

.................

…oh fuck.

The silence is deafening. Murray’s smirk and all-knowing glare only adds to your being aware of what you just said to him, and admitted to yourself, out loud.

“Oh…oh so we do love Steve.”

Your uncle’s words are the cherry on top of the cake you just baked, and didn’t know you had the ingredients to make.

You don’t sleep that night.

***

The next morning, you and Steve both sit with Max.

"Wondering what she wrote in yours?"

Steve is nodding at the stack of letters on the bedside table. You all left them there, promising yourselves not to open them. Because she will wake up.

Lucas took it hard, Max dying. You'd been there to hold him, comfort him, along with Steve. You both watched him burst into tears numerous times, sometimes sobbing uncontrollably, despite the fact that she was somehow still here. It broke both your hearts, but you both got through it with him. Together.

And while the other kids were taking it hard too...so fucking hard...it was Steve who carried the most guilt. Remorse, anguish and guilt.

"I failed my kid," Steve had told you at the hospital once. You looked at him with a furrowed brow and concerned eyes.

"Steve, no you didn't."

His voice shook, eyes drowning in nightmarish thoughts. "I wasn't there for her. I wasn't -- wasn't..."

"You could never fail those kids. Not even if you tried."

He didn't believe you. But he wanted to. You had squeezed his hand that day, sitting in the waiting room. And to your surprise, not only did he let you...but he squeezed it back, letting your hands rest that way for an hour as you fell asleep in the seats before being woken up.

And now, sitting in one of his guest rooms while Max lay asleep in the coma still, you can see that guilt in him is spreading.

Steve is holding the letter that she gave to him, and you ask him if he’s wanting to read it.

Steve snorts. "God, you kidding? She'll wake up just to kill me before going right back to sleep."

You smirk, biting back a real laugh. “True.”

But Steve looks conflicted. He fiddles with the letter in his hands, wanting to tear it open. You know that he does.

“…want me to read it out loud to you instead? She can kill me in your place.”

Steve chuckles at that.

...but he doesn’t say no.

In fact, after biting his lip for a minute and thinking, he finds himself nodding. Yes. Please, read it to me, he’s thinking.

So you do.

You take the letter and read it to him. You read him the words that only a little sister could write to a big brother who she loves and wishes she will grow up to be like. You read him words that make him light up like a Christmas tree, yet cause him a painful ache deep within his bones. You read him a letter of love that no one ever took the time to write, let alone express, to him his entire life.

Steve fights tears. He bites them back, successfully. You’re the last person he ever wants to see him vulnerable. Hell, he can’t even see himself like that without judging his own self harshly. He can only imagine that you will, too.

He doesn’t know, though, that not only would you never judge him for that. But selfishly, you wish he would feel safe with you. Or God, someone at least. Just not Nancy. Someone who deserves him wholeheartedly.

"Steve," you speak softly.

He's staring into space, zoned out. But then, he finally looks over at you. He sees the kindness in him, and it almost takes his breath away. The way that you look at him...he just never thought you could...that you could --

"You're all of these things. Everything she wrote in this? You're all of it. And then some. You're the hero all those kids dream of being when they grow up. You're their favorite person. The one they trust, go to for everything. Even if you don't think that they do, they do."

He listens, unable to move. Speak. Breathe.

"You are...a great person, Steve Harrington."

***

That night, there’s a knock on your door. You’ve been given the guest room upstairs with no bunk mate. Unlike most of the people in the house. But given that Joyce and Hopper are together now, and El sleeps in Max’s room to keep watch, the four younger boys share a room with Eddie, Nancy is with Jonathan, Erica sleeps at her own house and Robin shares Steve’s room since she splits her time here and at home — you and Murray got the solo rooms.

Steve is now grateful for those sleeping arrangements tonight.

Because when you open the door, he’s on the other side. He looks sad, conflicted and lost. Like his mind is racing at a million miles an hour, yet can’t think of anything to say. He’s tongue tied, just staring at you expectantly…

What is he expecting?

“What’s wrong?” you ask. “Is it Max?”

Something about your question makes Steve brows pinch together. Like it’s suddenly confusing him even more. But he doesn’t speak.

You wait patiently. But truth be told, you are anxious as fuck. Because damn, he’s pretty. He is so stupid pretty. And fuck it’s annoying. His lips are just the right shape in a pout, and it’s really fucking annoy —

His lips are crashing into yours before you can even finish dissecting them.

Steve is kissing you like life depends on it. Gentle at first, but eager. Determined.

And when you both pulls back -- you don’t hesitate for more than a solid 2-3 seconds, your eyes shocked while his eyes silently ask, is this okay?

Your lips crashing back against his answers — yes.

Steve is a hurricane of both madness and all things serene in the ways that he touches your body. He explores your skin with his lips and hands, as if he has all the time in the world. The curve of your jaw and neck. The jut of your collarbones. The feel of your clavicle, which leads him to the shape of your tits and nipples. He cherishes your body, hungrily exploring it. It’s heated, hot and heavy. He licks a stripe down your abdomen to the waistband of your sweatpants. The way his brown irises look up at you, all round and doe eyed, makes the back of your throat groan with need. It’s not loud or brash, nor is it strained and quiet. It’s soft but certain. Steve melts at it, his fingers curling one by one around the band of your sweatpants, his eyes still asking — please?

You’re nodding without even having to hear a word out of him. And Steve pulls.

Euphoria is the feeling of Steve’s tongue exploring your folds. It’s the sound of him sighing into your portal in pure pleasure, and the way he sucks your clit with fervency yet flicks it with supple patience. His hands knead into your thighs, one of them reaching to squeeze your hips so that he can pull himself up to you and let you taste yourself on his tongue. He wraps an arm underneath your waist, hooking you to him, asking in the breathiest of whimpers, “Please let me, angel.”

He’s getting a fistful of your hair into one of his big hands, adoring the way that you squeak a yelp. You suck on his tongue, hard, and it’s enough to drive him mad. He pins himself against you, grinding. But you sit up, keeping your bodies glued together and now using your teeth to tug on his lip and paralyze him in pure ecstasy. You take the opportunity to slide your teeth and tongue down his jaw and neck, trailing pecks and kisses along the way, and the throaty whimper he lets out makes you see stars behind your hooded eyes as you drag your tongue down his chest. The wet stripe you’re leaving glides down to his toned abdomen’s bunny trail, and as you curl your fingers around his sweatpants, you pause… letting your lips press the most fluttery of kisses to each of his scars.

Steve can’t help the shudders, sighs and whimpers that escape his lips, along with your name. It’s raw, uncensored. He clutches your hand, which you extend up to him in a greedy grab as you slowly work his pants down with your other hand. You hook your fingers onto his chin, forcing him to let go of your hand in his and look down at you. He does, and it’s game over. You watch him and never break eye contact as you use both hands to push down his briefs…

…and thank God for that — because otherwise, you would see just what you’re up against as far as pleasuring him goes.

You feel the tip of his hard length tap your chin, and you scoot farther down into the mattress — on your knees like a perfect angel. Your tongue plays with its head, tasting the tang of his pre-cum, and Steve is shaking so hard he can’t stand it. He clenches his jaw, gritting out blissful curses through his teeth. “Fuck, baby, fuck.”

You take in the intense length of him, pleasuring him until he is touching the back of your throat and nearly gagging you senseless, and the mess he is up above you — it sends your mind into a tailspin. He has never looked so pretty, eyes squeezed shut except when he’s glancing back down at you with more fondness and adoration than you ever thought possible from not only a man who hates you…but any man at all.

And when Steve is just about to cum, he begins to beg. “P-please. Wait, please.”

His hands urgently cup your jaw, forcing you to look back up at him and cease your sickeningly perfect work. He pulls, and you follow. He drinks you in with his gaze, staring into your soul, as if he’s trying to figure you out. He stares and stares, his thumbs stroking your cheeks, his brown eyes searching yours like you are the most beautiful mystery he has ever needed to solve. He looks as though he might ask you something. Say something...

But he dives in to kiss you again before he lets himself.

His hand wraps around the bend of one of your knees, tugging it up so that he can hook your leg around his waist. Then he does it to the other. And before you know it, you’re straddling him.

“Fuck, Bauman, please,” Steve Harrington groans into your mouth. Then softer, murmuring against your lips as he kisses them endlessly, “please let me, please.”

And you know what he is asking. You know what he wants. You don’t have to even think twice. Lifting yourself up, lining him with your entrance, he stretches you out and the euphoric sting of it sucks the air right out of you. And Steve.

Steve is winded by the feeling of how tight your walls are, and by just how right it feels to be inside of you. You both fit. Like a perfect match.

At this point, you’re both a frenzy of fucking. You ride him – slow, hard, fast, all of it. Steve keens into your mouth, then your neck as he buries his face there — completely overwhelmed. You hold his head there, comfortingly and securely, and so fucking perfectly as your fingers tug at the ends of his perfect hair.

“I’ve got you, baby,” your voice shakes in a breathy whisper, just for him. “Let it all go.”

And Steve does. His fingers dig into the curve of your back, pulling you impossibly closer to him as he presses the loud growl of his climax into your bare shoulder. He releases himself into you, hot and loaded, and you drip just as much onto him as he just shot into you.

As if that wasn’t enough to send you reeling — enough to make you see angels and devils and god — it’s the way that Steve shudders against you, catching his breath…and then pulls back to look at you…that renders you speechless.

His hairline leaks sweat, his face beaded with it. His eyelids are hooded, the dark brown irises dazed and daring to meet your gaze. His lips are parted perfectly — and the way he looks up at you with his tousled hair, somehow still perfect after it’s been pulled and messed with, is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Steve Harrington is so fucking beautiful. He’s an all-American boy, yet a Greek god.

The way that Steve gently brings your forehead to his, breathing against you, closing his eyes at the contact — you find yourself timidly nuzzling the tip of your nose to his. And you feel him smile against you, opening your eyes just enough to steal a peek — and that’s when you feel a deep ache in your heart and soul that might as well kill you.

Because now you realize. That is love.

Steve is love.

But you let it die inside of you tonight, not wanting to make this moment end any sooner than it has to. Instead, you let Steve entangle his limbs with yours, not daring to ask if he wants to stay. Because if you do, he’ll likely leave. He’ll realize that being in bed with you is the last place that he wants to be, and that he’s made a mistake. He’ll go back to hating you, more than he already does, and it will be the death of you. So instead, you just let it ride out however it’s supposed to.

You try not to count the minutes as Steve absentmindedly traces circles with his fingertips on your skin. Your hip bones, your shoulder blades, your spine. You tell yourself to forget that time and its limits exist as you stroke the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck, your temple against his forearm, his outer arm draped over you. You tell yourself that this is it. This is heaven. This is eternity. You tell yourself even if you wake up and it’s just a dream, you’ll remember it for as long as you live. Because on the other side of death is this, and it will never end.

You let that ease your mind as he presses his lips to your forehead and you no longer fight sleep.

So when you do wake up…and find that Steve is still there…you’re shocked. But you stay that way until he wakes. He looks at you in awestruck wonder. Not confusion or regret. Just…wonder.

He props himself up on an elbow, still looking at you, deep in thought. All you can do is stare back, wishing you knew what the hell he was thinking but not daring to ask. It wasn’t worth risking this. You stay that way for a little while.

He finally breathes a sigh, whispering, “Kids will be up soon.”

You give him a soft smile and gentle nod. You can already see Dustin waking up to go knock down Steve’s door, and that’s…not gonna end well if he finds out that Steve is walking out of your room instead.

Steve contemplates god-knows-what for another long moment before pressing a quick kiss into your hairline as he rises.

You watch him stand and dress himself, your heart throbbing at the way he looks in the early morning light streaming through the windows. His body is god-like. Tall, lean and athletic. His skin has the most beautiful constellation of moles that put the entire galaxy of stars to shame. And you ache at the thought of never being able to touch them again.

He gives you a soft grin after he throws his t-shirt back on, and before you know it he’s gone.

You lay there staring at nothing, feeling yourself leak a couple of silent tears and wondering why. You find yourself afraid to get up and face whatever new reality lies ahead of you on the other side of that door.

***

thanks for reading :) comment to be added to my tag list for this series.

tags: @erastourvip @xprloki @get0ut0fmyr00m @eddiemuns0nl0ver @marrowfrog00

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington stranger things #dustin henderson #murray bauman #enemies to lovers trope #they're in love your honor #Murray is a schemer #sorry stancy

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fabricated-misslieness · 1 year

Text

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: neteyam x metkayina male reader

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: As Neteyam settles in with the Metkayina, he too falls for their golden boy and finds that they have a lot in common.

part 2 ~ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 6677

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: little angsty and existential

ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: there's a part 2 coming up, pretty different from part 1, in fact i came up with part 2 before part 1. also been working on this since the tsireya fic, 3 days ago.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

His name was (y/n). Or at least, that's what Neteyam had heard, and he had heard about him a lot in his short time in Awa'atlu. He, however, hadn't gotten the chance to speak with him.

The Metkayina liked him. Even Ronal, the bitter Tsahìk that so very hated Neteyam's family, and Tonowari treated him like one of their own. Though he supposes that in Ronal's eyes, all except for the Sully's were "her own" (Neteyam was a respectful kid, raised to be, but even Ronal drew some bitter thoughts he'd never disclose).

It wasn't exactly hard to tell that he was a special person to the clan, like any part of him could be weaved into anybody's songcord.

Neteyam watched from afar as he dismounted from his ilu. As he dug his toes into the sand of the shore, several people greeted him at once. He met each one with their name and a heartfelt grin.

Neteyam once knew what it was like to be loved by everyone in his clan, once knew each of their names, once knew how long it took to greet every single one as each just had to greet him. Once, he had greeted each one just as graciously. As time flew by, it felt like another one of his duties. Now, he no longer did at all. He missed it, strangely.

Then, as you finally turn to him, your smile falls. It wasn't like most others when they saw his dark blue skin and leaner physique; your lips didn't form a scowl. Instead, you flashed him a small smile before turning away.

Somehow, it looked kinder. Neteyam didn't know how.

He didn't really need to, anyway. All he needed was to keep up the formality, greet you with a smile just like the rest, because this would be the farthest your interactions would go.

After all, as far as the Metkayina were concerned, he was a demon and you were their golden child.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Whilst Ronal and Tonowari treated you like one of their children, your relationship with their actual children was unknown to Neteyam.

And certainly to Lo'ak.

The Sully brothers watched on as the golden child and the Tsahìk-to-be bantered.

Tsireya was to be giving them lessons on Metkayina life, but it seems she was too distracted for that. She laughed at your joke, her grin wide and mouth uncovered, and you laughed along with her. Truly, it was a sight to be hold, the gold of the Metkayina shining brightly. It was almost blinding.

As you continued down the beach, still so far from the Sully's but close enough for prying eyes, Lo'ak scoffed. Neteyam turned to his brother with confusion and began to speak, but Lo'ak beats him to it. "Do you think they're like siblings or something else?"

"Why would you care?" In truth, Neteyam knew exactly why Lo'ak cared. As the older brother he was, he just wanted to him admit it. On his end, there was a curiosity digging at his chest, but he was too polite to go digging for the truth.

Sensing his brother's underlying intentions, Lo'ak comes up with another reason. "If we're going to be living here for the rest of our lives, I think I have a reason to care."

For the rest our lives. Right. Neteyam wasn't going back. He clears his throat, a new mischief in his tone, "If you want to know so badly, ask them yourself."

"What?" Lo'ak exclaims rather loudly, catching the attention of those around him. It seems he doesn't care, though. "No way, bro!"

It catches Tsireya's attention as well and Lo'ak doesn't notice. She looks towards the two of them, her–no, Lo'ak specifically, Neteyam can tell. Her big eyes seem somewhat worried. She turns towards you, suddenly nervous, and the two of you exchange a few more words before you make your way towards them with quicker strides whilst Tsireya tags along more calmly.

Neteyam sort of knows then that Lo'ak and Tsireya will be alright.

When the two of you are close enough, Tsireya's first focus is on his brother. When he moves his gaze more towards the two of you, he finds your eyes to be on him.

You meet him with that small smile again and he feels the need to return it with his own.

"This is (y/n)." Tsireya introduces you. You give a small wave. "He has graciously offered himself today to be my assistant."

"Hold on, assistant?" You pause, putting a hand on her shoulder and veering her towards you.

"Remember, you're not supposed to be here." She replies with a kind of sass Neteyam hadn't really expected, considering the previous breathing lessons he'd gotten from her.

"But I can be," You bite back, "and I am."

She shakes her head at you and pushes your hand away from her shoulder. "Co-teacher."

"yay!"

Tsireya rolls her eyes but otherwise ignores you. "Trust me, he's a very good rider and teacher. I think you'll do well under his guidance. Follow me."

When the family makes it into the water, even the generally displeasing Ao'nung and Rotxo greet you kindly, an action that makes Lo'ak's hairy eyebrows raise with shock. Neteyam simply brushes it off as one of the things you sort of do to people.

The class starts off first with a demonstration on the positioning, done by you of course. Tsireya said that since you'd so kindly offered yourself once, you could do it again.

Afterwards, you broke off into separate one on ones.

Neteyam watched Lo'ak obviously be paired up with Tsireya, then he made sure Tuk was safely away from Ao'nung and his friends. Lastly, he wondered which one of them would teach him; although, it didn't seem like he'd have to wonder for long.

"Hello." You greet him. It's the first time you greet him verbally, let alone the first ever word you direct towards him.

He gulps, his words suddenly stuck in his throat. "Hey."

Your following interaction isn't so awkward because he doesn't have to say anything.

Neteyam follows as per your teachings. At first, it doesn't seem very different from riding his ikran, aside from the lack of death risk. Even after seeing his brother fail rather miserably, he retains some confidence.

However, all of it comes crashing down after his first try… and then his second and third. Frustration begins to build within him and you can sense it.

"Ma Neteyam," You snap your fingers and finally gain his attention, "it's alright. Nobody gets it on their first try."

He nods to himself and rolls his shoulders, preparing for another try; but you place a hand atop his where it holds the ilu. Instead of saying anything, you simply offer him a look. Your eyes are a deep blue, he notices, expressive in the way that he can tell silently that you believe in him. He looks away before he gets too lost.

He grips onto the Ilu and lowers himself over its body. He feels its breath and imitates its strength to hold onto its body tighter.

This time, he won't fail. This time, he'll impress you.

Neteyam takes a deep breath and leads the ilu into a dive.

The rush of speed feels exhilarating, it reminds him of flying on his ikran for the first time. The water surrounding him rushes past his body refreshingly like the air when he flies; but water is denser, and just like air, it tries to push him off. He grips onto the ilu tighter with both his hands and calves. Knowing that he is resisting something so strong, and well at that, feeds into his excitement.

He feels the ilu's strength like it is his own and grips tighter, but slowly, he feels his resistance to the current slipping.

Suddenly, he thinks: he can't make a fool of himself.

So, he holds onto the grip and pulls. Despite him and Neteyam not being familiar with each other, the ilu understands and comes to a sharp stop that nearly has Neteyam falling over backwards, but he holds on.

Far away from you, Neteyam emerges with the widest grin he's worn in a long time. He raises his fist and can't help but to let out one of his cries from home. "Ìley!"

"Ìley!" His joy grows as you mimic the foreign cry in celebration with him, "Neteyam!"

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Neteyam initially thought you would leave your interactions curt and only speak with him when necessary. He did try to keep up a positive outlook, that the Metkayina would eventually come to see him and his family as part of the clan, but it seemed far off.

Whilst Tsireya stayed with them to explore the ocean, you had other duties to attend to. Eventually, you had to bid him farewell. It wasn't with an excuse, nor with a "goodbye", it was with a "see you later".

Maybe he was digging too far into simple farewells, but those words felt like a promise.

The promise, however, wouldn't be fulfilled soon; and it isn't until the day after that you finally get to talk again. Even then, the next day gave way to the eclipse, and after that, he couldn't find you.

Just as he gave up and began the walk back to his family, he encountered you accidentally.

Though he sought you out for the better half of the day, he didn't know what to do now that he had you alone. So, too awkward to say anything, he sat down on the knitted pathway above you and watched.

As expected, you notice his presence but do not turn to him yet, too preoccupied with feeding your companion.

"I'm sorry I haven't talked to you in a while, Neteyam."

"It's alright," He empathizes with the shake of his head, "you're a popular guy."

"Am I now?" You snicker.

"I haven't been here for long, but I can tell."

"I'd rather call myself busy. But truly, I'm sorry. First it was Ao'nung today wanting to explore the ocean with me, then it was Tsanten wanting to test my hunting skills again." You sigh, clearly exhausted after everything that's happened today. "You know, sometimes I think it's just an excuse to hunt with me."

Neteyam was simply content in hearing you talk, you did something that just made simple sentences so entertaining, but you turn to him and hand the conversation over. "I didn't get to talk much about it with you yesterday, so how was riding your ilu?"

"It's strangely like flying an ikran," He zones out while he collects his thoughts, "which is something I miss. I think I like it so much because it feels like I'm defying something that wants so badly the opposite. It feels like I'm fighting gravity and succeeding. You know, I found and trained my ikran. No offense, but it doesn't really feel the same when you didn't find your companion, like my ilu."

With that said, he looks to you again. You watch him with attentive eyes that made him feel so seen... It kind of makes him nervous. He looks away, embarrassed, "Sorry, I'm ranting."

"No, it's alright."

"Okay, well, um, I like the rush too. Going so fast is really fun—sorry, I'm," He shakes his head at himself, for he was being impolite. "talking too much."

"Neteyam, it's alright, really." You reassure him, wading over and placing a hand next to his. "I like listening to you."

"Oh."

It was meant to be encouragement so that he'd continue speaking without shame, but now he quiets down. Heat begins to pool in his cheeks and Neteyam wants to drench them in water, but not only would he have to get in the water with you, it would also be akin to splashing water over magma.

"Sorry, that was–Su, I'll get to you later."

"Su?" Neteyam's curiosity overpowers his awkwardness and he turns to look.

"Short for Syulang." Seeing as he was more interested in you now, you allow your ilu to get the attention she wants. She digs her mouth into your palms, vigorously searching. "Su, you already got your dinner. I don't have anything else for you."

You raise your hands in the air, showing her that they're empty. When she sees them, she almost seems to roll her eyes at you. Instead, she huffs and leaves like a toddler having a tantrum.

Out of the corner of his eye, Neteyam catches a tsurak. It looks ominous and angry, only showing its eyes above the surface. He has half the mind to point it out until you say something that catches the tsurak's attention. "Zìk, I know you're around here somewhere."

The tsurak swims over sort of begrudgingly and passively accepts your pets.

"Zìk? Like tìngäzìk?" Neteyam asks.

"Yeah, actually." You snicker, "Tìngäzìk is quite the problem. He was pretty hard to tame. Most of them are, anyway, so maybe I'm a little too on the nose. Nowadays, though," After you feed Zìk, he actually seems to be enjoying your touch; or maybe the fish is still in his mouth and he's enjoying that. "he does seem to like me. Not that I really know."

Something else interests him. "I thought only those that completed their iknimaya could tame one."

"You'd be right."

"So you have completed it? But you're so–" He cuts himself off with a cough, as he hadn't realized just how rude it'd be to say that.

"Young? Yeah, I know. Everybody loves to tell me." You brush it off with the shake of your head; it's a relief. "How about you? Have you completed it?"

"No, I've yet to complete my Uniltaron." Something in the back of his mind vaguely reminds him that the Metkayina don't have a Uniltaron. "My mom is afraid of me doing it because of how badly my father was hurt while he did it."

"Ough," You wince, "what is it?"

"Singing." Neteyam chuckles, "I don't know how my dad got hurt during that."

"The great Jake Sully, huh?" You ignore Zìk's idle gnawing at your hand and hop up to sit next to Neteyam. "Anyway, the Metkayina have a different iknimaya. When I completed the trials, I got this."

When you pull your necklace up to show him the tattoo on your chest, Neteyam gasps softly. His eyes seem glued to the sight. It's rather cute.

"It's so cool..." He subconsciously traces a finger over the ink, not realizing just how intrusive he was being. He doesn't, however, miss how soft your skin feels. The tattoo looks like a heart to him, the kind his father had taught him to be the symbol of love for the sky people. "What does it mean?"

"It means "loved by the people", it more than displays a characteristic of mine, it's also a wish for it to stay that way forever."

He purses his lips, "And "the people" are?"

"The Metkayina, of course." As if Neteyam needed another reminder that the Metkayina didn't like him. He frowns, only with enough conscience to make it small so that you may not see.

"...but I'm open to anyone's love."

If that was targeted, Neteyam chooses not to believe it.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Neteyam never thought he'd miss home. He thought he'd always be with the Omatikaya.

Maybe this is how Kiri feels, like an outcast. He had listened to her multiple times over their life together, listened to how different she felt, and had never understood. After all, the two of them were surrounded by their people, the Omatikaya. Where their shelter in the mountains was, they were, and they were truly what home was.

But now that he lived within the Metkayina, he feels so out of place. It feels just like what Kiri described: being surrounded by her people but still feeling so different from them. The Metkayina and him were of the same species, they were all Na'vi, but at the same time, they were different. It wasn't just that either. All those people knew each other, thought themselves family, while he watched from the sidelines.

He missed home.

He's suddenly interrupted by you sitting next to him, although you don't seem intent on sitting idle for long. "Kxì, Neteyam."

"Kaltxì." He greets simply.

"Do you want to explore the ocean today?"

"Fpvìl..." He trails off, just to seem as though he was considering it. He really didn't want to do much in the ocean today, or on the shores. He felt rather dispirited. "Not really."

"Oh, well." You don't let the rejection last long. "How about the jungle, then?"

The jungle? Neteyam suddenly perks up, eyes wide and hopeful. "Can we?"

Ever since he caught a glimpse of a possible pathway within the dense tree line, he's wanted to go inside. Still, he wasn't so sure if he was really allowed to. His father would probably call it a distraction in the path of discipline, as Jake wanted to make sure his children fit in so their differences could be overlooked.

He thought you were just an excuse to go against his father's word and explore the jungle; except, you were more than that.

"Of course."

The island's jungle was nothing like that of the mainland. The trees, for one, were much more sparse; the shrubbery crowding the ground was short and the humidity was much harsher. It reminded him of home, though, and it was the closest thing he would have here.

However, the jungle was still beautiful. It was home to a variety of plants Neteyam had never seen before, and each had their own charm. There was a particular plant that resembled a giant fern, he couldn't really name it. Their stems were intertwined at the base and spread outward at the top, fading from blue to orange. Their leaves were ginormous, growing like feathers, and blue at the end. The plant's blue reminded him of the moonlight at home. Other plants, like fan-like flowers, deserved their own admiration too.

It didn't take long to reach the heart of the jungle. Even though the ocean was far, just like the people inhabiting it, the island embraced water. Wide waterfalls from the mountains and cascades all flowed into a center lake, their humidity forming rainbows anywhere he looked.

Finally, Neteyam took a seat and simply admired. You sat next to him. "I'll never get tired of this."

"You've been here before?" He asked.

"Mhm." You nodded, "Many times, actually. It's a good escape, this place, away from the people."

"I thought they loved you."

"They do, just.." You sigh, slouching slightly. "they're a bit overwhelming at times, you know?"

"Oh, yeah." He chuckles at the thought. He hadn't experienced it in what felt like a long time now; it was only a couple weeks in reality. He missed it, as annoying as it was at times.

"You do?" You ask, somewhat shocked.

"My father is Jake Sully." He said, as if it explained it all. It didn't, though, so he continued. "Everybody wanted to know what he was doing; and then, he was Olo'eyktan and I was, in turn, "prince". Everybody wanted to know what I was doing. Everybody wanted to talk to me and everybody had something to say."

"It's the same for me." You stretch your toes in the water and lean further back along the lake's shore. Neteyam hears a couple joints crack. "Ah, it's nice being on your own sometimes."

"But it doesn't feel the same once you've been alone for too long."

"How do you mean?" You ask, confusion spread throughout your face.

"You're not content." He fiddles with his fingers absentmindedly, picking at the lines on his hands. "People have filled every minute of your life, so when they're gone, you feel as though something is missing."

He wasn't really making sense to you. "But you're not alone."

"I'm not." He affirms, "But I'm not with friends or family, either. The Metkayina don't like me."

"Hey, I like you." Butterflies spread throughout his chest, prod at his nerves like they want to escape. He tries his best to ignore them.

"I know." He doesn't–well, hadn't–but he says it anyway. "So then, what about the others?" They think I have demon blood.

"You're right." You purse your lips.

Great, he was making you sad.

"You know what?" You suddenly stand with a renewed vigor. "Let's just forget about it all. Let's forget about other people and just explore, huh, 'Teyam?"

You wear the widest grin–that he thinks looks real pretty on your face–and offer him a hand which he takes immediately. With his hand in yours, you pull him to his feet with such strength he almost tips forward. Instead of making fun of him for it, you laugh and he can't help but join in.

"Come on, let me show you my favorite place."

Before you could show him many more of your other "favorite" places, the eclipse came down and you had to come home. That night, at the pods, you leave him with another promise, that you'll show him the rest.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

You step off your ilu, greeting several people. Neteyam learned the other day it was sort of a routine for you.

As you walk from waist-deep in the ocean back to the shore, you swing your wet hair from behind your shoulder. You gather it in your hands and ring it out. Like a small waterfall, salt water spills from your hair and returns to the ocean. You swing your hair back over your shoulder and run a hand through your hair to push back the stray hairs from your face.

Neteyam finds himself a little mesmerized, but he snaps out of it when his brother speaks up.

"Look at him." Lo'ak grumbles, his chin resting boredly on his palm. "The Metkayina's perfect "little" boy."

Neteyam laughs inwardly. Right, his brother still wasn't sure whether you and Tsireya were promised to one another or not. He would've told him, but it was a bit funny seeing him be so jealous. "So you are admitting he's perfect?"

"If everyone's saying it, does it matter if I say it too?" Lo'ak argues.

"Eh," Neteyam shrugs, shaking his head side to side in a "more or less" motion. "I do think so. That means that you think he's prefect too."

"Well, he isn't." He huffs.

"Mhm." After beating his brother in the argument, Neteyam turns back to you. You're much closer now, but still a few ways off, and you're still saying hello to people. Just seeing you do it feels tiring. At least it gives him more time to admire you.

Your necklace hangs low below your neck, its bead arrangement falling tragically over your tattoo and covering the main attraction. Still, the image of it is ingrained in his mind. The symbol of a heart really suited you.

When, finally, you're close enough, you give him a wave. Lo'ak thinks it's more directed towards the two of you, so he begrudgingly waves too. In that moment, his brother reminds him of your tsurak Zìk, but his thoughts are interrupted when you call to him.

"Ma Neteyam, you ready yet?!"

He only shoots you a thumbs up, for many people were already staring at the two of you and he didn't want to attract more attention, even though they'd begun to be more indifferent towards him.

"What does he mean ready?" Lo'ak's eyebrows furrow. He turns to his brother like he's a traitor.

"Sorry, bro, can't say." Neteyam simply replies, though he really can, he just loved to confuse his brother and see his hairy brows knitted together. He stands from his spot next to Lo'ak, readying to leave with you.

"I'm your brother, what could there possibly be that you can't say to me?"

"A lot of things." Neteyam finally turns away from Lo'ak entirely, leaving him to gape and catch bugs in his mouth.

"Let's go." You grin at Neteyam. In contrast, even though you see Lo'ak's weird expression, you only regard him with a small wave. "See ya, Lo'ak."

Far from his brother, Neteyam finally turns his head to give him a little shit-eating grin. Lo'ak only mouths to him words so rushed he can barely read them, You're falling for the golden boy??

And to that, and his brother, he proudly says yes. To himself, however, he doesn't quite know.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

"Have you ever been up there?" Neteyam points, ambitiously, to the top of the highest mountain. It was merely the size of his thumb from here, but he knew that meant it would be so much bigger once he got close to it.

Honestly, what did he expect you to say? "No. That is at least a 3 day journey."

"I can make it an hour." He replies confidently. Oh, he was absolutely counting on you saying no.

"How?" You ask, falling into his plan.

Neteyam simply smirks and calls for his ikran. The call is nothing like you've ever heard before. Within a matter of minutes, she stands before you, posed majestically atop her claws. She was larger than most ilu and her skin was a beautiful green.

You'd only seen banshees during the Sully family's arrival to Awa'atlu. Needless to say, you were amazed.

"Hey girl." He takes her head in both his hands, petting her cheeks with his thumbs. She screeches positively. "I missed you too."

"Woah." You approach slowly.

In comparison to ilu, banshees seemed very intimidating; and ilu, harmless. Perhaps, in that way, banshees were more similar to skimwings. Though, skimwings tended to keep their antagonistic behavior against those that they weren't bonded with. If the same held up with banshees, you were about to find out.

Neteyam senses your hesitance and extends a hand towards you. "Don't worry. She won't bite."

You gulp, "Y'sure?"

"Loved by the people but not by animals?" He tries to rile you up. He understood why you were apprehensive, but he didn't think someone like you–talented in just about anything–would have doubts about approaching an ikran.

"Animals and Na'vi are different, Neteyam." Still, you push on and offer the ikran a hand. She sniffs it first before turning back to Neteyam. Seems she's more interested in catching up with him than you, which is a relief because now you don't have to worry about dying.

Neteyam hops onto her neck, forming the bond. He beckons for you to follow. "Just sit down behind me and make sure to hold on, tight."

You follow his command and wrap your hands around his waist. Suddenly, he freezes, even though this is what he'd instructed you to do. To pass his misspeak off, he hooks one of your wrists above the other to tighten the hold, although it takes a toll on his nerves.

He clears his throat and declares, "Alright, we're off."

His ikran was new at carrying two people at once, not counting Tuk's little weight, but he knew she had the power to hold strong; and that, she did. She handled the two of you just like normal, and for that he'd make sure to thank her with treats.

"This is so cool."

Neteyam thinks it's a crime that you're not screaming yet, so he pats his ikran at the base of her wing and tells her to go faster.

He, of course, remains passive. This kind of speed, this environment, it's something he loves; but mostly, it was something he was used to.

You, on the other hand, "Wooo! This exactly like you described! I've never been so high before!"

He chuckles at your enthusiasm, "How does the wind feel?"

"Like it bites!" You laugh excitedly, daring to even stick a hand up and feel the air push it back. "Feels so refreshing, though!"

Having your affirmation, Neteyam decides to dive. "Alright, get ready."

"For?"

He doesn't reply, as your surprise would be spoiled and that was the fun of it. Instead, he leans forward, leaving you to do the same in anticipation. It's only a matter of seconds before the ikran dives.

"PELA'ANG NETEYAM!"

Your arms around his waist squeeze around him tighter, and he only thinks about it for a second. Your reaction, he finds more entertaining, even if you do scream in his ear.

The dive feels like you're riding on the back of a throwing spear, cutting through the air towards its destination. The air screams into your ears like a warning, its fight against your body like a constant geyser.

"Teyam–" You call. He doesn't respond. "Neteyam! Pull up!"

At the rate you were going at, you were going to crash into the lake, and today was not the day you wanted to return to Eywa.

"Scared?"

"'Course I am!"

Perhaps it was your sudden fear of heights or his experience, but he still felt as though there was plenty of time left. Neteyam laughs at your nerves, but to your benefit, he pulls up before he usually would.

"Phew." Your head falls onto his back. You're exhausted of his antics.

"How was it?" Neteyam asks innocently, like he wasn't just about to possibly cause your death.

"I thought we were going up to the mountain." You grumble.

"Oh, we are, just..." He doesn't actually have an excuse, not that he feels like needs one. "I mean, that was funny, wasn't it?"

"To you."

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Neteyam made good on his promise and you arrived at the mountain within the hour. But, because of your many duties–communal breakfast, hunting, meaningless conversations–it was going to be night soon.

You only had so much time, but you sat not doing much of anything anyway. The peak of the mountain was hardly anything worth exploring. It wasn't so big and only inhabited plants that dared to grow high. What the peak really offered was a view.

"Can hardly see the pods from here." You remark, sitting on a fallen log behind him.

"Yep." Neteyam sits on the cliff, boldly swinging his legs over the edge. He was less looking at Awa'atlu and more at the jungle. "This place is very blue."

The tips of the giant ferns were blue, and they faced up towards the sky. The heart of the jungle was a large lake, and Neteyam learned up here that the tree line surrounding it wasn't so long. Apart from the vague blob of a shape the large clearing drew, there wasn't much else worth admiring. So he turns his gaze up, towards the other islands.

"Does every island have a village?" Neteyam asks, gesturing towards the many islands he could see. There were enough to fill from Awa'atlu to the horizon.

"There's only so many major villages on the larger islands, but yes. There's at least one Na'vi on every single one of those islands... mmph, well," You chuckle, "maybe not that one." You point towards one barely the size of one of your necklace's beads.

Neteyam doesn't reply, so the conversation naturally stops there. He turns his gaze towards something else, the empty space without islands. The ocean was blue, and so was the sky, and it felt like a monotony; but also, the ocean was a deep blue, like him, and the sky lighter, like you. Maybe that meant something.

"How do you handle being so perfect?"

"What?"

"I mean," Neteyam turns to you and holds your gaze, "you're the youngest hunter yet still very competent."

You shake your head with a sigh, "I'm not perfect, Neteyam."

"But the people think otherwise." He stands only to sit next to you. "They love you."

"They don't love me because I do all these great things. They don't love me for being a good warrior or a good hunter, not for taming a tsurak or for being able to throw spears well." You scoot closer to him. He hates seeing that frown on your face. "They love me because of who I am."

In other words, "They see you."

"Yes."

That's how the Omatikaya saw him. Not for being the son of his father or his mother, and not for the duties he fought hard to uphold; they saw him, and ironically, he only realizes after leaving them. Would the Metkayina ever see him the same way?

As the sun and the moon lined up for the eclipse signifying night time, the conversation comes to a stop. It was something that happened daily, and to you, something you'd grown used to. Neteyam, too, had grown used to it, but he was sure that if it stopped, he'd miss it.

"We should head down."

"Yeah."

Neither of you move.

When the last of the daylight leaves, and the moons take over, Neteyam looks down again becomes something catches his attention. "Woah."

Many things glowed purple under the moonlight: the tips of the ferns, specks in the lake, and specks in the village. They were a wonderful sight, flickering vividly under the moonlight like another set of stars. His gaze found the moving lights of the village, likely large groups of Na'vi coming together for dinner. They come from the bright seawall terraces, blend in with the long lines of luminescent fish within the water, then emerge again at the beach; because as important as whatever they were doing was, being with their people for something as simple as eating was more important.

The Metkayina would never be Omatikaya, they would never be the people he grew up with, but he could find solace in them still; for they were all Na'vi.

He would just have to prove it to them first.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Neteyam dips his hand in the water. The salt stings a little against his bruised knuckles, but he ignores it. He cups a good amount of water and brings it to his lips. The wound on those sting too, but it's nothing compared to the pain he felt when he actually received the injury. 'Sides, he's felt worse pains from covering up for Lo'ak plenty of times before. This was nothing.

He pulls his hand away from his lips and observes it. Blood runs down his fingers. It's crimson and thick, much the same as his bond with Lo'ak. He'd done it several times before, and he'd do it again, to stand with his brother; because if not him, who else did he have?

"Neteyam!" Back from a hunt, like always.

Wiya, he didn't want you to seem like this, but if he hid himself from you, you'd be even more suspicious.

He cups a larger amount of water and wipes his face again, hoping to get rid of all the blood staining his skin. He rubs with his hands, but when they part from his face, you're squat next to him curiously.

Neteyam suddenly stands, forcing you to stand too.

Though he had made it up in his mind that he couldn't hide his injuries from you, he's nervous of the outcome. You'd be curious, you'd ask, he'd tell you, and you'd come in defense of your brothers.

So, he looks away from you, though unfortunately you're on his right, the side of his lips that got split.

"What happened to you?"

He purses his lips, his hands balling up into fists at his sides. So much for this friendship, he thinks.

When Neteyam doesn't respond, you take the other side of his jaw between your thumb and forefinger, gently pulling him to look at you.

Before he turned his head to you, his gaze had been downcast, and that translated to when you moved it. He catches a glimpse of your tattoo, loved by the people. It only solidifies the outcome in his head.

"Neteyam." You say, your voice stern with him for the first time. "Who did this to you?"

It's not something he likes, that tone, especially coming from you, but he obeys your silent pleads to explain. "Ao'nung.. and his friends called Kiri a freak. They mocked Lo'ak. Called us all "not real Na'vi". Lo'ak picked a fight with them and I had to back him up."

You're silent for a long time, instead of spewing your anger at him. Anticipation builds up in his chest as he awaits your response, but it doesn't come. Curiously, he allows himself to look up at you and catch your eyes.

Angry. You were angry. But you don't look, not at him, you look towards the ocean.

"(y/n)?"

"Ao'nung just left for a hunt." Your hand leaves his jaw as you part from him, "I can catch up, teach him a lesson."

You only take a few steps, each laced with a heavy intent, before he stops you. He's quick to step in front of you, taking one of your hands in his as another precaution. "You really don't have to. I already taught him a lesson when I punched him, and Lo'ak went to go apologize already."

"Apologize?" You ask. He can hear the absolute shock in your voice. "For standing up against his insults?"

Neteyam nods slowly, knowing that it's not fair either. "Yes."

"Who told him to apologize? Because if there's anything I know about Lo'ak, it's that–"

"My father." He says before you can waste your breath. He knows that, after hearing that it's Jake that commanded his son to "make peace" with his own bullies, you won't stand against him. Because the mighty Jake Sully knew better.

But some things, he doesn't know for sure. "Even your father doesn't defend you?" A nasty scowl grows on your lips. That knowledge provokes you even more. You begin your furious march again, unbothered by his hand.

"(y/n)." He gives a harsh tug.

"Neteyam." Your sudden stop causes you to stomp on the sand. Its grains kick up explosively in the air like a reflection of your anger. "I have to defend you."

"If you do that, your tattoo's wish won't be fulfilled!" He protests, throwing his free hand up into the air. "(y/n), if they see you coming in defense of a demon, they're going to be pissed."

"A demon?" You step closer to him, shaking your head solemnly. "You're not a demon."

"They think otherwise..." He mutters, looking away.

"I have to show them what I see." You put a warm hand on his cheek and Neteyam feels as though it dwarfs his face; it doesn't help the spreading warmth on his cheeks either. "Neteyam, I see you."

His heart hammers within his chest like it'll burst. He doesn't know what to say. "I–"

"Physically, you may be different, but you and me, we are the same. We are Na'vi. You don't deserve the way they're treating you." Everything you said, it's all he wanted to hear. "Oel ngati kameie, ma Neteyam."

He dared, because he couldn't help it, to place a kiss on your lips. It's only a peck, but it brings joy to your eyes.

"You see me, so you know that I am capable of showing the Metkayina that my family and I are not different. I can come in defense of myself, as I did against Ao'nung. Oel ngati kameie, ma (y/n), " He saw you. A boy so kind, a boy that loved him so much, that he was willing to sacrifice what everybody thought of him just to love him. But it wasn't something that he wanted. "but I don't need your help. You don't need to give away everything just for me."

"But nothing's stopping me from doing so."

"That is precisely why I need you to trust me." He pushes your necklace away and places his hand above your tattoo. "Because you may know what I deserve, but I know too that you don't deserve to lose everything. Okay?"

And though it pains you so, you will do what he asks. You bring his hand up and press a kiss to his aching knuckles. "Okay."

#neteyam x male reader #neteyam x reader #avatar x reader #avatar x male reader #🎟 // avatar #💞 // darlings #🌸 // success!#🎫 // neteyam #🌂 // failure

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updatingranboo · 8 months

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tips and tricks for ranboo fans to make chat (and the community) a better place!

hello! since the rebrand is coming up i decided i wanted to make a list of certain things ranboo fans should be discouraged from saying/doing, to keep chat/the community fun and keep from pushing ranboo back into the box of a streamer they no longer are. i personally don’t believe in cringe culture, i think everyone should be able to have fun, but at this point certain jokes and comments restrict ranboo from growing as a person and do reflect on the community. this got a lot longer than i was expecting, apologies! lets begin.

gender jokes (“genderman”, you stole my gender etc)

a super obvious one. getting gender envy from ranboo is normal and super awesome! nothing wrong with that. but the jokes have been overused. the genderman one specifically has ties to minecraft which, while ranboo doesn’t care about being associated with minecraft, it’s still a tie to their past content they would prefer to leave behind. this is the same level as calling them an “mcyt”, while there’s no harm in it and ranboo really doesn’t care, it’s also just.. not really true anymore and hasn’t been for years. let them grow!

2. *blank*boo/general spam

*blank*boo is nothing but spammy. all it does is fill up chats and replies and brings no substance to anything. spamming “tiredboo” when they yawn, “madboo” when they yell etc. is not contributing anything meaningful to a chat. it’s annoying and drowns out actually fun and interesting comments. as for general spam, you can use a few emotes here and there! but when all you do is spam emotes it again just floods the chat. when ranboo tells chat to stop spamming, you stop. don’t take it as a challenge, you will just get banned. yes there is delay, but you can see what other people in chat are saying too. spamming lag, telling them they missed a dono, anything where you find yourself repeating what other people are saying to either get their attention or just because (except for using bttv emotes) just don’t. i know most people are used to speaking in a fast chat, but the truth is chat doesn’t have to be fast! if you don’t have anything to say, you can just stay quiet. even spamming the PETTHEMODS emote defeats the purpose !!

3. telling off chat

slightly related, you don’t have to tell off chat either. going “chat stop” “oh my god chat” just adds to the spam. change the subject! ignore the spam and let the mods take care of it. focus on reacting to the stream and being silly, not being backseat mods.

4. the swearing obsession

ranboo is almost 20. they make so many innuendos every stream. they are heavily considering adding a mature warning to most streams from here on out, and as we have seen they no longer are the “family friendly” kid who they used to be. he can say shit and fuck and people can be normal about it. you don’t have to say LANGUAGE or go THEY SWORE ?????? he’s an adult and can swear. all of his friends swear and a huge portion of us in the community do too. it is not a big deal

5. telling ranboo what to do

back seating in video games, as well as in other situations when it’s NOT ASKED FOR is not fun. let ranboo do what they want. this applies to just general things too- you don’t need to tell ranboo to go to sleep. they can make that decision themself. again, he’s almost 20.

6. assuming ranboo is uncomfortable with something

it’s always good to be careful about respecting boundaries! but don’t confuse your own boundaries for theirs. ranboo has said many times that if something bothers him, he’ll talk about it! it’s safe to say they are more uncomfortable with you harassing an artist for drawing something you personally don’t like, over the actual art itself.

7. the chat hopping/mentioning ranboo unnecessarily

we all love ranboo. that is very obvious. their friends love them too! but when you go into one of ranboos friends chats or comment sections and start either asking about ranboo, telling his friends to play with them, or making unnecessary references to their content, it makes their friends want to do things with them less! streamers are their own people. there’s nothing wrong with watching one of ranboo’s friends streams because ranboo is there, i do it all the time. a lot of us do. the biggest thing is to be RESPECTFUL to the person who’s stream you are watching. if you chat, chat to the streamer! you don’t have to mention ranboo. or, just stay out of chat if you don’t think you’ll be able to stay on topic. you don’t have to speak in chat! there is the flip side of this, don’t bring up other streamers in ranboos chat unnecessarily either! no one cares if you saw two colors and it made you think of something unrelated. it’s so disrespectful to the streamer to do this.

8a. unnecessary negativity

the internet can be a very negative, reactionary place. seeking out negativity just for the sake of an argument is unhealthy and can also expose others to arguments that they wouldn’t have had to see. bait, obvious unchanging bigots, and also people who just don’t like ranboo (which is valid!) don’t need to be engaged. in the case of trolls, bait and bigots, they only bring negativity and are there to cause arguments. don’t give them the attention they want. As for people who just don’t like ranboo, you can leave them be too! Not everyone has to like ranboo. he can handle it, you don’t need to defend him or try and change someone’s mind. now, unnecessary negativity does not equal call outs/criticism!

8b. please criticize !

if something happens in the community, or from ranboo directly that hurts you or makes you uncomfortable, don’t be afraid to say something and help make us all better people! ranboo wants criticism. if it’s purely in the community, try reaching out to the other person first! often things can be settled privately so as to not hurt others by dragging them into the conversation or making things heated and causing people to attack each other. on the other side of this, if you see criticism from someone and feel the need to defend ranboo: don’t. if you are affected by something (ie. you are a person of color and the topic is racism) feel free to add to the conversation! if you do not have an opinion on something (ie lesbians call out lesbiphobia, and you are straight) keep it to yourself. let the people actually affected by something talk and have an opinion, and support them. it may feel like people are “attacking” ranboo (or you!) but they are not. they are real people with real, valid feelings, who want to feel safe in a community when in real life, they may be constantly victims of horrible things. listen first. if you still have your own opinions, reflect on them and why you feel the way you do, and dissect any implicit bias you may have. these are all important things that keep a community safe, happy, and mutually respectful!

ranboo encourages everyone to be good people and use common sense. remember when you say something, people other than ranboo see it too! every account has a person behind it, so treat each other with respect and help make the community a more fun and safe place for everyone to be in. ranboo has no tolerance for bigotry, racism, misogyny, antisemitism, ableism, and so on. remember to be aware of the things you are saying, and if you don’t know why something is wrong, look it up or try asking someone politely!

thank you for taking the time to read all of this! this list is non exhaustive. there are plenty of other things you can do in the community to make this a better place, from uplifting the minorities in the community more, to supporting artists by reblogging/sharing and commenting on their art, and more. at the end of the day though we are here because we love ranboo, so by following guidelines like these and putting in the effort, you show ranboo and the other people in the community you care and make everyone proud.

that’s all for now! keep boobing!

#ranboo #not updating ranboo #technically #sorry if any of this is worded weird! i wrote it at 4am

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yandere-kokeshi · 2 months

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dad ghost and ucle soap doing something for me so what if their adopted (read :kidnapped) kid secretly a mermaid?

— Yandere Dad! Ghost and Uncle! Soap with a mermaid kiddo

Warnings: yandere behavior, fantasy AU, and all Platonic!

A/N: This was fun to write! Enjoy!

It’s hard to keep this secret, no? Being a whole different species and forced to hide your ‘real-self’ is a pain, and once these two find out, they’re flabbergasted; looking at each other with wide eyes. And once, in their lives, they have no idea what to do. A good ‘welp…’ coming out of Johnny as Dad! Ghost stands there, unsure what to do or how to properly respond to the situation.

Despite their surprised state, they quickly adapt — equally getting fascinated, and wondering how the hell you’ve hidden this for so long, without anybody knowing.

Within a span of a couple of days, they educate themselves on you and your sea life. Buying books, reading internet articles, and sharing their own questions with you. They even go in depth about what your diet is, how your body works, if there’s any more mermaids like you, or if you eat fish. Of course, Uncle! Soap asks if you’re a siren, there are a lot of common traits in both of them, and honestly asks if you can sing.

Despite your obvious need for water for survival, they both understand the phrase, “clean water”, and they both work on getting an enormous pool built just for you. Even if the cabin of a house is built deep in the mountains, you have a large pathway to a lake that they own; a sum of water that’s clean, and deep enough to discover minerals and kelp.

They enjoy watching you swim, smiling at your happy state, and whilst Dad! Ghost won’t join you in the water, rather watching from afar as he reads on files or such. But as for, Uncle! Soap, he will literally cannonball himself into the water.

Opposed to your lovely uncle, he’s quite touchy and loves to touch your tail. Of course, he won’t touch it if he sees you annoyed, or if you say no. But, when he gets the chance, he likes to admire the different shapes, scales, colors, and weight of your fins.

As for Dad! Ghost, he’s oddly attentive to you. Whilst you know your body better than anybody else, he still tries to care for you. He goes out of his way to buy you special cream to keep your tail moisturized, ensure you’re hydrated enough, and keeping your gills healthy; looking for any tears or wounds of any kind.

Uncle! Soap can be a menace with his teasing, and when you’re being snarky or breaking a few rules, he’ll joke that he’ll make sushi outta your tail. Of course, Ghost hits him in the back of the head. But he wouldn’t do that… would he?

They both work together — very hardly — to ensure the government doesn’t find out about you. They know what it’s capable of, people kidnapping you and poking you with needles to find out more information; keeping you captive like a pet. And they’ve both promised, as your guardians, that nothing like that will ever happen whilst they’re breathing.

And because of that, they will execute any type of threats possible. If they see your friends getting suspicious, one day they randomly ‘disappear’. Any type of adults asking specific questions, or why you like the water so much, are found dead on the news.

They both understand how much water means to you, which at times, Uncle! Soap sometimes suggests moving, and building a house near the salty sea; a place where you’re visibly comfortable and feel like you belong. He might even recommend taking a few trips back to Scotland a few times a year, letting you swim in the large lakes.

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking. It helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!

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physalian · 4 months

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Humanizing Your Characters (And Why You Should)

To humanize a character is not to contort an irredeemable villain into the warped funhouse mirror reflection of a hero in the last 30 seconds to gain “narrative subversion” points. To humanize is not to give said villain a tragic backstory that validates every bad choice they make in attempt to provide nuance where it does not deserve to be.

To humanize a character, villain or otherwise, is to make them flawed. Scuff them up, give them narrative birthmarks and scars and imperfections. Whether it’s your hero, their love interest, the comic relief, the mentor, the villain, the rival, these little narrative details serve to make all your literary babies better.

Why should you humanize your characters?

To do this means to write in details beyond those that service the plot, or the themes, or the motifs, morals, foreshadowing, or story. These might be (and usually are) entirely unimportant in the grand scheme of things. So, if I wrote lengthy diatribes on pacing and why every detail must matter, and character descriptions and thematic importance, why am I now suggesting go free-for-all on the fluff?

Just like real people have quirks and tics and beliefs and pet peeves that serve our no greater purpose, so should fictional people. Your average reader doesn’t have the foggiest idea what literary devices are beyond metaphor, simile foreshadowing, and anecdote, but they can tell when the author is using motif and theme and all the syntactical marvels because it reads that much richer, even if they can’t pinpoint why.

And, for shipping fodder, these tiny little details are what help your audience fall in love with the character. It doesn’t even have to be in a book – Taylor Swift (whether you like her or not) never fills her music with sexual innuendo or going clubbing. She tells stories filled with human details like dancing in the refrigerator light. People can simultaneously relate to these very specific and vivid experiences, and say “not that exactly, but man this reminds me of…” and that’s (part of) the reason her music is so popular.

What kinds of narratives need these details?

All of them. Visual media, audio, written, stage play. Now, to what degree and excess you apply these details depends on your tone, intended audience, and writing style. If your style of writing is introspection heavy, noir character drama, you might go pretty heavy on the character design.

But even if you’re writing a kids book with a scant few paragraphs of setting descriptors and internal narration, or you’re drawing a comic book – if you have characters you want people to care about, do this.

Animators, particularly, are very adept at humanizing non-human characters, because, unlike live acting, every single stroke of the pen is there with intent. They use their own reflections for facial references, record their own movements to draw a dance, and insert little bits of themselves into signature character poses so you know that *that* animator did this one.

How to humanize your characters.

I’m going to break this down into a couple sections: Costume/wardrobe, personality, beliefs/behavior/superstitions, haptics/proxemics/kinesics, and voice. They will all overlap and the sheer variety and possibilities are way too broad for me to capture every facet.

Costumes and Wardrobe

In the film Fellowship of the Ring, there’s a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment where, after Boromir is slain by the Uruk-Hai, Aragorn takes Boromir’s Gondorian vambraces to wear in his honor, and in honor of their shared country. He wears them the rest of the trilogy. The editing pays no extra attention to them beyond a split second of Aragorn tightening the straps, it never lingers on them, never reminds you that they’re there, but they kept it in nonetheless. His actor also included a hunting bow that didn't exist in the book because he's a roamer, a ranger, and needs to be able to feed himself, along with a couple other survival tools.

Aragorn wears plenty of other symbolic bits of costume – the light of the Evenstar we see constantly from Arwen, the Lothlorien green cloaks shared by the entire Fellowship, his re-forged sword and eventual full Gondorian regalia, but all those are Epic Movie Moments that serve a thematic purpose.

Taking the vambraces is just a small, otherwise insignificant character moment, a choice made for no other reason than that’s what this character would do. That’s what makes him human, not an archetype.

When you’re writing these details and can’t rely on sneaking them into films, you have to work a little harder to remind your audience that they exist, but not too often. A detail shifts from “human” to “plot point” when it starts to serve a purpose to the themes and story.

Inconsequentiality might be how a character ties, or doesn’t tie their shoelaces, because they just can’t be bothered so they remain permanent knots and tripping hazards. It might be a throw-away line about how they refuse to wear shorts and strictly stick to long pants because they don’t like showing off their legs. It might be perpetually greasy hair from constantly running their fingers through it with stress, or self-soothing. A necklace they fidget with, or a ring, a belt they never bother to replace even though they should, a pair of lucky socks.

Resist the urge to make it more meaningful than “this is just how they are”. If I’m using the untied shoelaces example – in Spiderverse, this became a part of the story’s themes, motifs, and foreshadowing, and doesn’t count. Which isn’t bad! It’s just not what I’m talking about.

Personality

In How to Train Your Dragon, Toothless does not speak. All his personality comes from how he moves, the noises he makes, and the expressions on his face. There’s moments, like in the finale, when his prosthetic has burned off and Hiccup tells him to hold on for a little bit longer, and you can clearly see on his face that he’s deeply uncertain about his ability to do so. It’s almost off the screen, another blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment. Or the beat of hesitation before he lets Hiccup touch him in the Forbidden Friendship scene. Or the irritated noise he makes when he’s impatiently waiting for Hiccup to stop chatting with his dad because they have a giant dragon to murder. Or when he slaps Hiccup with his ear fin for flying them into a rock spire.

None of those details *needed* to exist to endear you to his character or to serve the scenes they’re in. The scenes would carry on just fine without them. He’s a fictional dragon, yes, but these details make him real.

Other personality tics you could include might be a character who gets frustrated with tedious things very quickly and starts making little inteligible curses under their breath. Or how they giggle when they’re excited and start bouncing on their toes. Maybe they have a tic where they snap their fingers when they’re concentrating, trying to will an idea into existence. Or they stick their tongue out while they work and get embarrassed when another character calls them on it. They roll around in their sleep, steal blankets, drool, leave dishes in the sink or are neurotic with how things must be organized. They have one CD in their car, and actually use that CD player instead of the phone jack or Bluetooth. They sing in the shower, while they cook, or while they do homework, no matter how grating their voice.

They like the smell of new shoes or Sharpies. They hate the texture of suede or velvet or sticky residues. They never pick their socks up. They hate the overhead light in their room and use 50 lamps instead. They hate turning into oncoming traffic or don’t trust their backup camera. They collect Funko Pops and insist there’s always room for more.

And about a million others.

Beliefs, Behaviors, and Superstitions

*If you happen to be writing a story where superstitions have merit, maybe skip this one.* Usually, inevitably, these evolve into character centerpieces and I can’t actually think of one off the top of my head that doesn’t become this beyond the ones we all know. A few comedic examples do come to mind:

The Magic Conch in “Club Spongebob” and the sea-bear-proof dirt circle in “The Camping Episode”

Dean Winchester’s fear and panic-driven actions in “Yellow Fever” and “Sam, Interrupted”

The references to the trolls that steal left-foot socks in How to Train Your Dragon

I’m not a fan of wasting time writing a religious character doing their religious thing when Plot Is Happening, but smaller things are what I’m talking about. Like them wearing a cross/rosary and touching it when they’re nervous. Having a specific off-beat prayer, saying, or expression because they don’t believe in cursing.

The classic ones like black cats, ladders, broken mirrors, salt, sidewalk cracks can all be funny. Athletes have plenty, too, and some of them, particularly in baseball culture, are a bit ridiculous. Not washing socks or uniforms, having a team idol they donate Double Bubble to and also rub their toes. A specific workout routine, diet, team morale dance.

Other things, too. A character who’s afraid to go back downstairs once the lights are off, or fear the basement or the backyard shed. Or they’re really put-off by this old family photo for no reason other than how glassy their eyes look and it’s creepy. They like crystals, dreamcatchers, star signs, tarot, or they absolutely do not under any circumstances.

They believe in all the tried and true ways of predicting the weather like a grizzled old sailor. They believe in ghosts, vampires, werewolves, witches, skinwalkers, doppelgangers, fairies. They talk to the cat statue in their kitchen and named it Fudge Pop. They whisper to the spirit that possessed the fridge so it stops making all that racket, and half the time, it works every time. They wear yellow for good luck or carry a rabbit’s foot. They’re not religious at all but still throw prayers out to whoever’s listening because, you know, just in case. They sit by their window sill and talk to the moon and the stars and pretend like they’re in a music video when they’re driving through the city in the rain.

Haptics, Proxemics, and Kinesics

These are, for all you non-communication and psych majors out there, touch and physical contact, how they move, and how they move around other people.

Behold, your shipping fodder.

Two shining examples of proxemics in action are the famous “close talker” episode of Seinfeld (of which every communication major has been subjected to) and Castiel’s not understanding of personal space (and human chronemic habits) in Supernatural.

These are how a character walks, if they’re flat-footed, clumsy, or tip-toers. If they make a racket or constantly spook the other characters. If they fidget or can’t sit still in a seat for five seconds, if they like to sit backwards or upside down. How they touch themselves, if they do a lot of self-soothing maneuvers (hugging themselves, rubbing their arms, touching their face, drawing their knees up, holding their neck, etc) or if they don’t do any self-soothing at all.

This is how they shake hands, if they dance while they cook or work. It’s how much space they let themselves take up, if they man-spread or keep their limbs in closer. How close they stand to others or how far. If they let themselves be touched at all, or if they always have their skin covered. If they always have their back to a wall, or are always making sure they know where the nearest exit is. If they make grand gestures when they talk and give directions. If they flinch from pats on the back or raised hands. If they lean away from loud voices or project their own. If they use their height to their advantage when arguing, puff their chest, square their shoulders, put their hands on their hips, or point fingers in accusation.

If they touch other characters as they pass by. If they’re huggers or victims of falling asleep on or near their comrades. If they must sleep facing the door, or with something solid behind them. If they can sleep in the middle of a party wholly uncaring. If they sleepwalk, sleeptalk, migrate across the bed to cuddle whoever’s nearest with no idea they’re doing it.

If they like to be held or like to hold others. If they hate being picked up and slung around or are touch-starved for it. If they like their space and stick to it or are more than happy to share.

Do they walk with grace, head held high and back straight? Or are they hunched over, head hung, watching their feet? Are they meanderers or speed-walkers? Do they cross their arms in front or lace their hands behind them? Do they bow to authority or meet that gaze head on?

I have heard that Prince Zuko, in Last Airbender, is usually drawn sleeping with his bad ear down when he doesn’t feel safe, like on his warship or anywhere in the Fire Nation, or on the road. He’s drawn on his other side once he joins the Gaang. In Dead Man’s Chest, just before Davy Jones drives the Flying Dutchman under the waves, two tentacles curl up and around the brim of his hat to keep it from blowing off in the water.

When they fight, do they attack first, or defend first? Do they touch other characters’ hair? Share makeup, share clothes? Touch their faces with boops or bonks or nuzzles and eskimo kisses? Do they crack their knuckles and necks and knees?

Do they stare in baffled curiosity at all the other characters wholly comfortable in each other's spaces because they can’t, won’t, or don’t see the point in all this nonsense? Do they say they’re happy on the outside, but are betrayed by their body language?

Voice

Whether or not to write an accent is entirely up to you. Books like Their Eyes Were Watching God writes dialogue in a vernacular specific to its characters. Westerners and southerners tend to be written with the southern drawl or dialect, ripe with stereotypical contractions. Be advised, however, that in attempt to write an accent to give your character depth, you could be instead turning off your audience who doesn’t have energy to decipher what they’re saying, or you went and wrote a racist stereotype.

Voice isn’t just accent and dialect, nor is it how it sounds, which falls more solidly under useful character descriptions. Voice for the sake of humanizing your characters concerns how they talk, how they convey their thoughts, and how they become distinct from other characters in dialogue and narration.

If you’re writing a narrative that hops heads and don’t want to include a big banner to indicate who’s talking at any given time, this is where voice matters. It is, I think, the least appreciated of all the possible traits to pay attention to.

First person narrators have the most flexibility here because the audience is zero degrees removed from their first-hand experiences. Their personality comes through sharply in how they describe things and what they pay attention to.

But it’s also in what similes and metaphors they use. I read a book that had an average (allegedly straight) male narrator going off and describing colors with types of flowers, some I had to look up because I just don’t know those off the top of my head. My immediate thought was either this character is a poorly written gay, or he’s a florist. Neither (allegedly), the writer was just being too specific.

Do they have crutch words they use? like, um, actually, so…, uh

Or repeat exclamations specific to them? yikes, yowzers, jeepers, jinkies, zoinks, balls, beans, d’oh!

Or idioms they’re fond of? Like a bat out of hell. Snowball’s chance.

Do they stutter when they’re nervous? Do they lose their train of thought and bounce around, losing other characters in the process? Do they have a non-Christian god they pray to and say something other than “thank God”? Are they from another country, culture, time period, realm, or planet with their own gods, beliefs, and idioms?

When they describe settings, how flowery is the language? Would this grizzled war hero use flowery language? How would he or she describe the color pink, versus a PTA mom? Do they use only a generic “blue, green, red” or do they really pay attention with “aquamarine, teal, emerald, viridian, vermillion, rose, ruby”?

How do this character’s hobbies affect how well they can describe dance moves, painting styles, car models, music genres?

This mostly matters when you’re head-hopping and the voice of the narrator serves to be more distinct, otherwise, what’s the point of head-hopping? Just use third-person omniscient.

If you really want to go wild, give a specific narrator unique syntax. Maybe one character is the ghost of Oscar Wild with never-ending run-on sentences. Just be sure to not go too overboard and compromise the integrity of your story.

In the book A Lesson Before Dying, a somewhat illiterate, underprivileged and undereducated minor has been given a mentor, a teacher, before they face the death penalty. At the end of the book, you read all of the letters they wrote to their teacher. There’s misspellings everywhere, almost no punctuation, and long, rambling sentences.

It’s heartbreaking. The subject matter is heavy and horrible, yes, but it’s the choice to write with such poor English that has a much bigger impact than perfect MLA format.

How to implement these details

Most of these, in the written medium, need only show up once or twice before your audience notices and wonders why they’re there. Most fall squarely under character design, which falls under exposition, and should follow all the exposition guidelines.

These details exist to be random and fluffy, but they can’t exist randomly within the narrative. If you want to have your character be superstitious, pick a relevant time to include that superstition.

Others, like ongoing speech habits or movements, still don’t overuse, especially if they’re unique. A character might like to sit backwards in a chair, but if you mention that they’re doing it every single time they sit down, your audience will wonder what’s so important and if the character is unwell.

And, of course, you can let these traits become thematically important, like a superstition being central to their personality or backstory or motivation. These all serve the same purpose of making your character feel like a real person instead of just a “character”.

Just think about tossing in a few random details every now and then and see what happens. One tiny sentence can take a background character and make them candidates for the eventual fandom’s fan favorite. Details like these turn your work from “This a story, and these are the characters who tell it” into “these are my characters, and this is their story.”

#writing advice #character design #writing tips #writing resources #exposition #writing tools #writing a book

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