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𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄
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summary: the human custom of sharing clothes had been an unfamiliar one for jade, but he has always been a quick study
pairing: jade leech x gn! reader (both have graduated nrc, but a lot of this is reliving school memories)
warnings: fluff, implied smaller reader; i think it made more sense in my head but have it anyway bc i never wanna shut up about him, please applaud my restraint to not name this ‘boyfriend material’
twisted wonderland masterlist
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It was true that wearing clothes was a foreign feeling when Jade first came to the shore all those years ago. But he had come to like the human custom, no matter how tedious it might seem at times. Not only did he realise the way one dressed held a lot of power in the way one was perceived by others, it had also served him in making some fond memories.
The ones he remembered most vividly, however, were those which featured you at the centre of them. Through various means, like the course they had attended or familiarising himself with different types of media above sea level, Jade had learnt that sharing clothes was a thing done between close friends or romantic partners, often being hailed as a sweet gesture and being positively received by characters and audiences alike. So when you had caught the eel’s interest, he had decided to see what the fuss was all about.
Despite his tendency to curate situations which would bring about whatever outcome he desired, the first time the opportunity arose had been a happy coincidence. That day, it had started raining cats and dogs right as the bell signalling lunch break rang. Luckily, Jade’s last class of the morning had been in the building the cafeteria was in, so he could watch in amusement as students swarmed towards the building with various forms of rain repellent keeping them dry- or not.
You had been one of the poor, unfortunate souls who had left their umbrella at the dorm that day, a point made abundantly clear by the way you had sprinted with your PE uniform jacket held over your head in a feeble attempt of shielding yourself. By the time you had made it into the dry hallway, your jacket had been absolutely drenched, the rest of your clothes not faring much better. Witnessing your predicament and seeing a chance to put his theory to the test, Jade had slinked over to your side.
“Oya, if I had known you were this fond of water, I would have invited you to the Coral Sea before,” the eel had said, startling you with his sudden appearance. Your reaction had only served for the polite smile on his lips to grow a tad bit wider. “Yet, here I was under the impression humans don’t like getting their clothes wet. Perhaps I have been wrong?”
“You know well enough this wasn’t intentional, so drop the oblivious act, Jade,” you had sighed, rustling through your backpack for something and subsequently taking your eyes off him. “So what do you want? If you’re trying to rope me into a deal over a little bit of rain, I’ll have to disappoint–”
Something warm and dry had landed on your shoulders then, your gaze landing on the black fabric draped over your form first and wandering back to the tall student afterwards. With your mouth parted, opening and closing in the search of something to say, you had borne a strong resemblance to a fish out of water.  
“I heard humans get sick easily after walking in the rain,” Jade had mused, tugging at his vest and shirt to make sure they sat correctly without his blazer, “and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”
“What are you–” You had shaken your head, overcoming your initial confusion as you began shrugging the jacket back off your shoulders. At that point you had been sure he had some ulterior motive and you hadn’t felt like picking up any shifts at Mostro Lounge that week. “I can’t take this from you.”
“Oh, but you can,” he had insisted with a smile, a gloved hand landing on your shoulder to keep the clothing in place. “If you are worried about my health, I am most touched. However, us mers are used to the cold and therefore aren’t as prone to catching one.”
“That wasn’t really what I was concerned about,” you had mumbled, crossing your arms. “I’m more worried about whatever strings come attached with this thing.”
“You wound me. Do you really think I would abuse my fellow student’s misery for personal gain?” Despite his words, he had chuckled at your resolute ‘yes, you would’. The hand on your shoulder had pressed into your upper back then to bring you in closer in order to throw you off with the newfound proximity, disguised as shielding you from the throng of people heading to lunch. “If this is what stands in between you and caring for your health, how about this: In return for accepting my blazer, you accompany me to lunch? I’ll consider us even then, I promise.”
You had studied the vice housewarden more closely, yet, as usual, his expression did not give anything away. Just then a chilly breeze had blown through the corridor, making you tremble as you instinctively pulled the blazer tighter around your body. 
“Fine, I’ll accept,” you had relented through chattering teeth.
“Wonderful,” the eel had beamed down at you before guiding you forward, still with his fingers splayed over your upper spine. Students had parted like the sea when they had seen the second year approaching and it was a welcome change of pace from having to fight your way into a spot in the queue.
By the time you had found a table, you had slipped your arms through the sleeves of Jade’s jacket to better hold your tray. And when you rolled up the excess fabric to properly use your cutlery, Jade finally realised why lending someone your clothes was a popular trope in various media. 
To say the piece was ill-fitting was an obvious remark, with Jade easily being one of the tallest students around, you were practically drowning in his jacket. It had been eye-openingly endearing for him to say the least. And that was even without factoring in the expression on people’s faces when they realised whose clothes you had been wearing, the Octavinelle band around your left arm added to the context of the scene being a dead giveaway. Yes, as a born predator of the sea, a possessive side of him had revelled in the feeling of staking his claim over you in this way.
But he had shoved the notion down as you had asked him if he liked the food that day and how his morning had been. While he had been able to tell you were still a little wary, cautiously phrasing your responses at first, falling into a casual conversation with you was easy enough. When the anecdote of his brother doing something reckless again made you snort before laughing, he had filed it away as something he wanted to see and hear more of, especially when he was the cause for it.
Lunch had passed a little too fast for the moray’s liking but with one glance at his watch and then one at the still pouring rain, he had quickly devised a plan to monopolise your time to the fullest before returning to your classes.
“Allow me to walk you back to your dorm, so you can change before your next lesson,” Jade had smiled as he pulled out his umbrella, his arm hovering around your back as you had exited the cafeteria. “I assure you, this favour comes with no strings attached.”
Looking back at it years later, perhaps that last part had been a lie, though he was sure neither of you minded. Because after that rainy day, you had interacted more frequently with pleasantly changed feelings. 
On Jade’s side of things, he had been more fascinated with you and your reactions than ever and the image of you swaddled in his clothes had managed to stir these newfound emotions in him. You, on the other side, had started considering him as more than a devious loan eel and allowed the normally tightly locked thoughts and feelings for him to come out of their confinement little by little.
After playing cat and mouse for a while, you had taken all your courage, grabbed Jade by the collar and confessed, not able to withstand the tension and anticipation any longer.  Of course, he had reciprocated your feelings in teasing delight, which, as your relationship had become public, had easily catapulted you up the list of the school’s lunatics in the eyes of many. But you couldn’t have been happier and, the initial complexities of navigating a new relationship aside, Jade was a dream of a boyfriend if he wasn’t hellbent on prodding and poking you for his own amusement.
So it came as no surprise that, during your school years, you had spent a lot of time at each other’s dorms when Jade wasn’t dragging you up some mountain with him. At that point, you’d felt as comfortable in his room as in yours, even if half of it was shared with the sentient tornado that was Floyd, leaving one half to be pristine and the other opposingly messy. 
Jade fondly remembered the day you had come over to study for your upcoming potionology exam, your own dorm room too loud to concentrate and hoping to rope the merman into helping you with your prep questions, especially as his brother had been absent from their room that evening. While many regarded him as the sly and conniving one in the relationship, Jade had to admit you were very good at playing your cards right to where he found it increasingly hard to deny you. Perhaps this cheekiness was one of the things that drew him to you.
Considering you had given up on studying in your room pretty much immediately and had only grabbed your books before marching over to Octavinelle, you had still been in uniform when you joined him at his desk. Ever observant, Jade had quickly noticed the way you subconsciously pulled at the clothes or squirmed in your seat trying to get comfortable. 
So being the amazing and reliable boyfriend that he was, he had fished some comfortable loungewear out of his closet; he had initially bought it to round out his collection of essential clothing items, though frankly, he didn’t wear it much himself. With no plans to work at the Lounge that night, he had thought that it might be a good chance to give the comfy clothes another shot.
In retrospect, maybe he should thank your uncomfortable uniform. 
When you had both changed into the loungewear, he had not only been amused by the way the shirt, which was a regular fit for him, engulfed your upper body or how you had rolled up the ends of his sweatpants. With some playful huffs at his teasing, you had gone back to work until you had finished writing your study notes, at which point you had relocated to his bed, Jade joining you soon after.
Sitting side by side, your boyfriend had taken to quizzing you to see how much you had retained until he had felt your head drop against his shoulder, which was the first time he had taken note of how late it had gotten. For a few moments he had done nothing but study the way your chest rose and fell with deep breaths, your slightly parted lips inviting him to trace his thumb over the curve of them in featherlight reverence. To think that he of all morays would ever be treated to such a peaceful fragment of mundanity, it had made a warmth tug at his heart the same way the waves rolled over the shore in a calming rhythm, which persisted to this day.
It had pained him to wake you again, so could get ready for bed, persuading you sweetly into staying the night. Though he regretted neither getting to see your half asleep face while you had brushed your teeth, nor how he had been able to pull you close to him under the covers, curling his arms around you as his fingers had wandered over the warmth of your skin under his clothes. 
In the comfortable darkness of his room, you had exchanged hushed whispers and murmured confessions as you had settled in his embrace, lulled to sleep by the steady beating of his heart and the lips that  had spelled promises of safety and adoration against your skin. And for Jade, tugged deep into the crevice of his heart, there had formed the image of a future where this domesticity was normality. 
Years later, after graduation, Jade could proudly claim that this fantasy now lived at the forefront of his heart, that he could fall asleep and wake up to your body next to his, cradled by the allure of forever. After all, for no one but those closest to him would he be up with the rising sun to prepare breakfast, humming under his breath as he relived those memories. Though he considered all his efforts paid off when he heard you shuffle into the kitchen before two arms wrapped around his middle and your head leaned against his spine. 
“Good morning to you too, pearl,” Jade chuckled as finished plating the eggs on two plates, then knowingly slid a fresh cup of coffee within your reach. “Did you sleep well?”
“I did, until someone decided to just leave me all by my lonesome,” you grumbled, detaching yourself from him so you could lean against the counter and take a sip of coffee, prepared perfectly to your liking. “I like seeing my beautiful husband’s face first thing in the morning but alas…”
As you stepped into his field of vision, Jade noticed you had chosen not to wear a piece of clothing of yours, but had instead plucked his black dress shirt from the chair he had draped it over the day prior. His dress shirt and nothing else. While it was long enough on you to hide what was for his eyes only, it still showed off the beautiful curve of your legs, ending tantalisingly around your thighs. The few buttons you had closed still displayed the sharp contrast between your collarbones and the softness of the skin peeking through below. It would be all too easy to slip the garment from your shoulder…
“That does seem rather unfair,” Jade agreed as he stepped in front of you, hands ghosting along the expanse of your thighs to rest at your waist, the look in his eyes reminding you of his origins and sending shivers of excitement down your spine. “If you allow me, I have a few ideas in mind on how to make it up to you.”
Within the blink of an eye, his hands had steeled their grip around your waist and lifted you to sit on the counter as he took the opportunity to stand between your legs. Then, with a gentleness which did not match the show of strength, he carefully cupped the back of your head in his palm and connected your lips in a kiss as light and soft as the golden rays bathing your kitchen in light. Your own hands busied themselves with tousling his bed head once again, slowly sliding his black lock behind his left ear as you parted from one another, like a painter putting the finishing strokes on their magnum opus.
“Hm, I might be able to be convinced about forgiving you,” you teased, the lovestruck look in your eyes mirroring his as you slung your arms over his shoulders and crossed them behind his neck in an effort to be even closer to him. 
“I must be the luckiest man alive,” he mused, meaning every word of his playful response.
Yes, after living on land for so long, Jade had truly taken a liking to the human custom of wearing clothes and all the different possibilities it held. Then again, the fondness those memories held probably had nothing to do with the clothes at all.
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tommykinardkink · 2 days
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slide on through my window
@bucktommyweek Prompt: Day One - Alternate first meeting Rating: Teen and up Summary: Based on this other prompt - “You broke into my apartment drunk thinking it was your friend’s house and I should call the cops but my cat kinda likes you so we’re good.”  Notes: for #bucktommyweekend
The first inkling Tommy Kinard has that something’s wrong is when Matilda doesn’t come greet him at the front door. She's usually there as soon as the door opens, winding herself around his legs purring loudly
He steps into his apartment, tossing his keys on the kitchen counter as he cranes his neck in search of his cat.
That’s when he gets an eyeful of his second clue that his day’s gonna be off to a weird start.
There’s a half-naked man sprawled out across his couch, snoring softly. Matilda, the traitorous little fur ball, is curled up on the man’s lap, tail wrapped around her body. She opens her eyes but doesn’t lift her head, watching as Tommy creeps forward.
For a moment, all he can do is stare. Because this is weird, right? Even by LA standards. Tommy allows himself some time to take in the stranger’s appearance. By his guess, the stranger could be about his height, but isn’t quite as broad. Despite his large frame, his features are boyish, with a birthmark at the corner of his right eye and above his brow and his mouth softened in sleep. His sandy blond hair is a mess, almost as though someone had been running their hands through it. That combined with the missing shirt—Tommy doesn’t allow his gaze to linger on the tattoo on his left pec—and Tommy can’t help but wonder if there’s another half-naked stranger in his apartment somewhere.
It’s been a long night, and an even longer shift at the 127. The whole drive home, all he’d been able to think about was snuggling Matilda, and then falling face first into bed and crashing for the rest of the day. This stranger has robbed him of both those things.
“Hey.” Tommy inches forward and pokes the man in the shoulder. A loud snore is all he gets in response. He frowns and rubs a hand over his face before trying again, poking him harder this time.
“C’mon, wake up.”
“Wha’?” The stranger jerks awake, sitting upright so quickly that he almost head butts Tommy in the face. It's only reflexes honed from years of Muay Thai that save him from a broken nose. Bright impossibly blue eyes blink at him in confusion. Somehow, the man hasn’t disturbed Matilda at all, and she rests her chin on her little paws and watches the standoff through a half-lidded gaze.
“Who’re you?” the stranger asks in a sleep roughened voice.
Tommy straightens to his full height, suddenly indignant.
“Who’m I? I’m the guy whose apartment you broke into,” he snaps.
The stranger squints at him before his expression breaks into a broad, still somewhat tipsy, grin. Tommy does his best not to notice how it brightens up the guy’s whole face.
“Nah.”
Jesus Christ.
Tommy draws in a deep breath through his mouth before releasing it slowly out his mouth. Grace, he reminds himself. It’s important to always extend grace to others, even when they don’t deserve it. Even when they’re intruding on his very limited free time.
“What’s your name?”
“Ev—Buck.”
“Evbuck?”
The beautiful dimwit blinks up at Tommy, clearly baffled. He slowly lowers himself down onto his elbows—Tommy is about to warn him not to get too comfortable—and shakes his head.
“My name’s Evan. Friends call me Buck.”
Well, Tommy sure as hell isn’t this guy’s friend.
“Okay, so. Evan. You broke into my home.”
This doesn’t seem to sink in any better than it did the first time. Evan frowns at him, then glances down at Matilda. She blinks placidly back at him.
“You’re Chimney’s roommate?”
Now it’s Tommy’s turn to be confused. Is Evan simply drunk, or is he having some sort of seizure? Tommy belatedly wonders if he shouldn’t just call 911 and be done with it. This entire conversation is giving him a headache.
But Evan has apparently used the brief silence to fill in some blanks in his mind. Only, he apparently spells like a toddler, judging by the way his shoulders abruptly sag in relief.
“Man, I guess Chimney didn’t tell you I was coming.” He flops back down onto the couch, the picture of ease as he beams up at Tommy. “I’m really sorry about that. He said I could—”
“What the—who is…” Tommy takes another deep breath. It doesn’t help, so he counts to ten before saying in as calm a voice as he can manage, “Evan. Are you on drugs?”
Now Evan looks offended. Good.
“No.” A beat. “I’m just a little drunk. But,” he adds, when Tommy opens his mouth to speak, “not so drunk that I can’t read… this.” He rummages around in the back pocket of his jeans, having to arch his back and lift his hips off the couch to do so and.
Is Tommy having some kind of Freudian nightmare? Is that what this is? Did he just crash on one of the bunks in the station and this is all just a figment of his overtired imagination? Is he gonna have to pinch himself?
But no, there's no time for that. He watches as Evan pulls a worn little square of paper from his pocket and waves it under Tommy’s nose triumphantly. Tommy snatches it out of his hand to peer at it.
Jesus, no wonder the kid had gotten lost. Tommy looks down at the chicken scratch on the bit of paper, practically illegible even in the early morning light. Tommy’s eyes narrow.
“What’d you say your friend’s name is?”
“Chimney,” Evan replies promptly, as though that’s at all helpful.
“The name on his birth certificate,” he clarifies through clenched teeth. Tommy can practically feel his eye twitching.
“How the hell am I s’posed to know?” Evan’s voice rises slightly in exasperation. “He just said—Ow!”
Tommy jumps, the piece of paper fluttering from his hands to the floor as Evan lets out a loud yelp. It’s easy to guess the source of his sudden discomfort. Matilda, who’d been handling the situation a whole lot better than Tommy, had seemingly lost her patience with the way Evan kept shifting around beneath her and stuck her tiny, needle-like claws through his jeans in an effort to keep him still. Evan stares down at her, eyes wide, big body motionless.
And. It’s stupid. Utterly ridiculous. This stupid man had broken into Tommy’s apartment and stolen his cat’s affection. But even though Tommy knows first hand how much those claws hurt, Evan makes no move to push Matilda away or retaliate. And just like that, Tommy feels most of his irritation slipping away. He lets out a gusty sigh and drops down into the loveseat opposite Evan.
“Okay, let’s try to figure this out,” he says, trying to be reasonable. “I’m telling you that you’re in the wrong apartment. No one by the name of Chimney,” Tommy pulls a face, “lives here.” Evan looks like he’s about to argue, so Tommy continues hurriedly, “I also don’t believe that you’re some kind of weirdo who just breaks into people’s homes so you can sleep on their couches.”
“Good. ‘Cause I’m not.”
“Right. Glad to hear it.” They stare at each other for a moment; Evan is definitely pouting. Tommy forces himself to concentrate on the matter at hand. “So this leaves us with a third option: this was all just a big mixup. Which, given your friend’s handwriting, isn’t surprising. So. No harm, no foul.”
“You’re not gonna call the cops?” Evan asks in a small voice.
“I was tempted for a minute.” Tommy looks back over at where his cat is kneading at Evan’s thighs in an effort to make herself comfortable. Evan winces but makes no move to stop her. “But Matilda’s the boss around here, and she seems to like you.”
Evan follows the direction of his gaze and smiles. It’s soft and sweet and Tommy really needs to go to bed. He pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and starts swiping through his apps.
"Uh..."
"Relax," Tommy says without looking up. "I'm getting you an uber."
"Thanks, that really nice—" He stops, and the abrupt silence grabs Tommy's attention, worried that Matilda's somehow managed to draw blood. He glances at Evan, only to find the other man looking at him thoughtfully.
"What?"
"You never told me your name."
Oh. It's strange but he feels a flutter of something like nerves for the first time since finding Evan passed out on his couch. He glances down briefly before forcing himself to get it together.
"Tommy. My name's Tommy."
And dear God, what was it with this guy and his smile? Tommy's too old to be getting flustered by some pretty boy and his fucking dimples. He clears his throat and quickly looks away again.
"Well. Evan. It's been nice meeting you. But I think it might be time for you to go."
"Yeah." Evan's smile dims slightly. He seems to shake it off, though, as he turns his attention to Matilda. With one big, gentle hand, he reaches down to scratch under her chin. Tommy can hear her purring from here. "Sorry, babe, but I gotta go," he tells her with a grin. She pushes her face against his hand, demanding that he keep it up, and Tommy has never before been envious of a cat. "But I promise, I'll always remember our time together."
He's so stupid. And adorable. And Tommy needs him to find his shirt, stat.
It takes some coaxing—and Tommy going to the kitchen for some treats—to get Matilda off Evan's lap. Tommy does his best not to stare as the other man gets off the couch and stretches lazily. The flex of his muscles is obscene and Tommy can't help the way his eyes dip to where the happy trail disappears beneath Evan's jeans.
Shit.
Tommy feels his face burning as he rips his gaze away, looking up just in time to catch Evan's little smirk. He can feel his cheeks burning and he pointedly turns his back as Evan pulls his shirt on over his head.
Together they walk to the front door, and the silence feels kinda awkward. A sudden thought occurs to him.
"Hey. How'd you even get in?"
"Huh? Oh." Now it's Evan's turn to blush, and he ducks his head. "I, uh, I came in through the window."
"We're on the third floor."
"Yeah." Evan scratches the back of his neck, expression sheepish. "I wasn't thinking too clearly. But still," he peeks up at Tommy from beneath his lashes, "pretty impressive, right?"
Is he... flirting right now?
But there's this incorrigible grin on Evan's face, impossible to resist, and Tommy can't help smiling back at him.
"Yeah. Pretty impressive."
Tommy's phone buzzes, a notification that the uber's just around the corner. He can't help but feel a pang of disappointment.
"Hey, can I—?" He looks up to find Evan looking slightly nervous. Tommy's expecting a request to use the bathroom but, instead, Evan surprises him.
"Can I have your number?"
"My number?" Tommy scrambles to cover his astonishment and tries for teasing as he asks, "Why, d'you wanna call ahead the next time you break in?"
"No. I wanna take you out for dinner. Or, y'know, maybe for breakfast." Evan's got this cocky smirk on his face, but there's a hint of vulnerability there too.
This is a terrible idea.
That knowledge doesn't stop him from giving Evan his number and watching as he disappears down the hallway and into the elevator.
This was really not how Tommy had expected his morning to go.
But he can't say he minds.
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animeyanderelover · 2 days
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Hey! Im glad i managed to wake up early in the end! Here are my two requests and thank you so much for your great writing!
1. Yanderes of your choice (the ones who wear masks/cover their faces or are just insecure about their appearances in general) with a darling who always compliments their face, saying they look amazing and that they love all of them/the first time they see the yans face their reaction is to get all :OOOO and compliment it
2. yanderes of your choice with a minor deity reader, who doesn't have the same perception of boundaries as a normal person does plus is just happy they have a follower at least.....?
Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional mindset, clinginess, manipulation
Tags: @lovley-valentine7 @leveyani @chxxz
Minor Deity s/o
Ash Landers
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▫️​You may not be known very well as other deities are but with Ash you pretty much already have the most devoted and loyal follower one could ask for. Yet the fact that you were forgotten seems to affect him much more than it has affected you ever as he is in utter grief and sorrow when he finds out about it. Deities are supposed to be worshipped and treated with reverence yet humans truly seem to have forgotten how to pay respect and he is determined to see it through that your name will be called in prayers once again. After he has purified London, that is. With his darling being a literal deity though, Ash feels immense pressure to see it through that everything will be perfect for you. He lets churches and temples be build in your name and starts searching for humans he thinks would be worthy enough of worshipping you as he is basically planning to collect a cult for you. Your obvious clinginess is constantly overwhelming him though as he doesn't see himself as worthy for being touched by a deity like this, especially since he hasn't done anything to deserve it.
Juvia Lockser
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💧​Juvia is constantly swooning over pretty much everything you do as her obsessive tendencies only increase as she figures out that you are an actual deity. You are literally perfect in her eyes. She spends days and weeks crafting a small shrine for you where she always leaves flowers, pastries or anything else for you as a sign of her adoration and love. She has a rather strange relationship with the idea of collecting other followers for you though. On the one hand she wants people to notice you because you are the most perfect and beautiful being as the mere thought that no one has ever been a follower of yours angers her greatly. On the other hand she also doesn't want to lose all the attention and affection she gets solely because she is the only one who calls herself a follower of yours now. You are very clingy with little to no perception of boundaries but since Juvia is exactly the same, this is just utterly perfect for her. The idea of you giving such attention to other people if they would start believing in you is a big cause of her jealousy as she would like to remain as someone special to you even if you should collect more followers.
Yato
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🪙​Both of you share very similar struggles yet Yato shows much more concern for you as a deity will disappear if no human remembers them so he is very desperate to get you more followers. He starts with Hiyori as he asks her to not forget you for her entire life and to remember you and she really goes all out of her way to build you a small shrine similar to the one she has crafted for Yato. Otherwise Yato literally goes around with Yukine to fulfill his jobs whilst trying to advertise for you. Whilst you don't show any panic or fear due to having so only Hiyori as a human who believes in you as of now, he still feels like he has to do everything he can to cheer you up to keep you happy. He has very good intentions but at times he can go a bit too far by literally wracking some damage to induce humans with the belief that it was the work of you just to get their attention on you. Hiyori and you are ususally quick to scold him for it as you don't want to be remembered as a deity who harms other people. Yato happily indulges in your clinginess though because he can be quite touchy himself but he does get jealous quickly when you show similar amounts of affection to Yukine and Hiyori.
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Note
Hey!
Your stuffs cool!
So could you possibly do a Vox X Reader where the Reader is kidnapped?
The reader would have to be like Vox's wife or partner, someone he'd not want to loose of course. You could even do an existing reader theme like Doll, Hacker, Shark, Retro or one of the others you've wrote for before got kidnapped if that helps. I just wanna see your take on Vox coming to save them.
Thanks a lot!
🌸 Anonymous!
Better of Two Evils (Be a Doll AU)
Vox x doll!reader
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CW: kidnapping, murder, violence, AU typical events
Vox is mentioned in this one, but he doesn’t really show up. He’s still a bad person and his actions are alluded to, though. He doesn’t come to save you. Sorry.
As consciousness slowly seeps back into my mind, I find myself disoriented and groggy. Blinking against the harsh light filtering through the small, dingy room, I try to make sense of my surroundings. Panic grips my chest as I realize I'm not in my own bed, but rather lying on a cold, hard floor.
Memories flood back in fragments, like pieces of a nightmare that refuse to be forgotten. The last thing I remember is Vox leaving me alone at a party while he went to deal with Valentino who was upstairs, throwing a tantrum in the penthouse.
Struggling to sit up, I'm met with resistance as I realize my wrists are bound tightly behind my back. Fear claws at my throat as I tug fruitlessly at the restraints, the cold metal biting into my skin. “Fuck.” I try to call out for help, but my voice comes out as little more than a hoarse whisper.
Panic threatens to consume me as I survey the room, searching desperately for any sign of escape. The walls seem to press in on me, suffocating in their oppressive closeness. The air is stale and musty, and the silence is deafening.
But then, a sound breaks through the silence—a creak of footsteps approaching from beyond the door. My heart leaps into my throat as the door swings open. Fuck.
"Ah, you're awake," a voice purrs, sending shivers down my spine. It's a voice I recognize, from a man I’d met at one of Vox’s parties. He’d pursue me relentlessly despite Vox’s efforts to be cordial in getting him to leave me alone. I could only imagine why he’d done this to me.
My breath catches in my throat as the man steps into the room, his gaze cold and calculating. "You're probably wondering why you're here," he continues, his voice dripping with malice. "But all you need to know is that you belong to me now."
Terror courses through my veins as I realize the full extent of my predicament. I'm at the mercy of this asshole. “I can’t- I won’t- I…” I’m cut off as the man grips my face tightly, hurting me as he shuts me up.
“Be a doll and shut your pretty little mouth,” he growled. I didn’t react. He scanned my face for any sign that it had worked. When he realized it hadn’t, he let go of my face and shoved me to the ground. “Damn it! Why- I said the phrase, why the fuck didn’t it work?”
“It only-” I broke off with a cough, trying to regain any sense of dignity. It was clear now that the trigger phrase had been his only plan in making me comply. He wasn’t prepared for it to not work. “It only works when Vox says it,” I rasped, watching the man wearily.
“Oh fuck off!” He said, returning his attention to me. He took out a pocket knife and held it to my throat. “If you don’t shut that dumb bimbo mouth of yours I’ll do it for you. I’m not afraid to hurt a pretty doll like you, I know you’ll live.”
“Ha!” I began to laugh, which caused the knife to make a light scratch against my throat. He looked taken aback, giving me my opportunity to make a move. I took my arms from behind my back and shoved him away, revealing I’d undone the bindings a bit ago. They weren’t particularly well done. He was sloppy, an amateur at best. “Let me tell you something, asshole.”
“You can’t do anything to me that Vox hasn’t done first,” I said coldly, bitterly. I wiped the blood off my neck. “You think you’re smooth? You think you’re slick? There’s at least three cameras in this room alone. He knows you have me, he just wants to see how well his perfect little doll can hold up.” I glanced at one such camera and threw up the peace sign, looking very unamused. I turned my attention back to the man in front of me. He’d been trying to attack, and failing. He seemed to have forgotten the fact that Vox didn’t choose just anyone to be so close with, he chose people he knew could handle it. “I think I’m doing well. Points off for the initial panic, though.”
“You- you’re crazy!” The man said, pointing his knife at me again. His grip was loose and he was shaking. Pathetic. I snatched it from him and positioned it at his neck now, pressing it just deep enough to draw a little blood. I’d already healed my own wound. “Fuck- get off me you dumb bitch!”
“No ones going to rescue you,” I said quietly, harshly. A reminder to me more than it was to him. It was only the truth. Vox knew I could handle myself, and he didn’t care how beat up I got in the process, so long as I returned to him at some point. I hated when I got captured like this, because it was always a wake up call. A reminder that Vox didn’t actually care, I was just a toy to him. “Nobody cares enough to save you now.”
He made a noise and I slit his throat. I was tired of looking at his stupid face. I let his body drop to the ground and tossed the knife aside, a disgusted look on my face. I hated Sundays.
Bonus: doll!Reader was actually wrong. Vox panicked when he found out you’d been captured. He was going to rescue you, but he saw who had kidnapped you and decided you’d be fine. He still cares- in his twisted little way. He just can’t show that, because it’d be a weakness.
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determinate-negation · 3 months
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u think i can make weed stem tea with honey raki as the binding agent instead of rum 🤔
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pepprs · 1 year
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#to translate this post: someone liked this post i made (on the upper left) on AUGUST 28 having a moment of self awareness that i was running#away from my whole life and not moving or learni ng to drive or anything. it is now march 8. it has been almost 7 months. and i have made#basically zero progress. and there is nothing stopping me but me. i could read the drivers manual and whatever whenever i want. but i am not#doing anything. and i don’t know how to get myself to start.#purrs#i know it’s a cop out excuse but i truly do think it’s covid. i think being in lockdown for a year and a half made me just let go of any#sense of progress. made me scared to take steps forward. and i mean i did bc i lived on campus for a while after that but it’s like.. EVERY#part of my life is stagnant rn it seems. and it’s not just me it’s my siblings too. we’re all getting older but none of us is trying to move#out or gain our independence in any way and my brother isn’t even looking for jobs even though he needs one. we’re all just getting older#but we’ve lost (or maybe had knocked out of us by covid and our mom being so strict) any sense of moving ipward and spreading our wings.#forgotten we have wings at all. and ive done important things like going on a house tour or traveling with my besties (<3). but i have only#made it to page 8 of the drivers manual and i truly do not want to read the rest of it. i have only been on one house tour and im longing to#move out but how much am i really because i can’t bring myself to schedule another tour and start searching for a new home in earnest.#i just come home every day UTTERLY exhausted and spend all my free time trying to process or rest. and im not making room for myself to use#my wings. and it’s truly terrible. why are we all okay with living like this. my younger self would be HORRIFIED if she saw how much i had a#atrophied since graduating and moving back home. my brighton self would be HORRIFIED. i told myself i wouldn’t and then it’s exactly what i#did. and ik im being harsh and ive spread my wings in some important ways during this time but… these are so obvious. such low hanging#fruit in some ways. bc any 16 year old can take this test and pass it so why can’t i at 24? why won’t i let myself? dont i want a nice cozy#home i make my own where i can eat what i want and sleep when i want and have control over sounds? then why am i not running for it?#delete later#i am wasting my youth i am wasting my youth i am wasting my youth 🤑🤑🤑🤑🤑🤑🤑 my one precious life 😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃#also LMFAOOOOO the next tag on that aug 28 post was that i need to get a new campus id card… guess who hasn’t done that either ♥️
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iicarused · 3 months
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##my wife, my wife, my wife, my wife
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y!vox x ex!reader / alastor x reader also because he stole vox’s bitch if you squint
part ii
synopsis: from this ask / reader is vox’s ex and he’s not too keen of the separation — you were supposed to come back to him! not run around with his rival and get rid of his only access of looking after you (removing any/all electronics from your life)
beware: DARK THEMES / heavy yandere aspects, obsession (vox’s end), territorial aspects, manipulation, implications of a toxic relationship / let me know if i missed anything!
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he’s been watching you. what, did you think you could just leave? no, that will not do for him! you’re his wife, his lover, his other half that he cannot live without! you brought him fame and so much fortune with just your pretty face.
through the camera of your phone, the security cameras that litter hell, he’s been keeping an eye on you. however, you know that.
after a year of maintaining a relationship with one of hells overlords, you finally snapped and broke it off. the press were eating it right up. “y/n, can you tell us why you and vox are no more?” “y/n, who broke it off first?” “y/n, is there a chance you’ll both get together again?” you laughed at the last question
there was only one place in all of hell to hide — a place where no electronic bothered to exist — hazbin hotel
you came tired. hair a mess and a fluffed robe over your shoulders. “i’m begging of you, please take me in, i prefer learning some shit redemption arc than to deal with a crazy ex.” you cried. of course charlie said yes.
since then, vox has been searching for you:
“i swear to FUCK — !! “ vox heaved. when valentino walked in, the tv host seemed to pause on his theatrics. “she couldn’t have gone far.”
“face it, at this rate she’s done with you.” the moth insisted while getting comfortable on the couch.
but those words didn’t sit right with vox. the multiple screens in front of him flicked through different channels, eager just to find a clue of your whereabouts.
to say vox was pissed when finding out where you were was an understatement. a camera zooming in on the sight of you having some fresh air — right outside that stupid hotel
picking at a daisy, someone else came into the frame. alastor knelt to your side with a cup of tea, or so he assumed, sitting down next to you while basking underneath the stars. vox couldn’t hear any audio since the radio demon seemed to mess up the frequency, but he could see that familiar smile that pulled at your lips
you used to smile at him just like that
in less than a day, vox came straight to the hotel. demanding for you to come out. come on home! you both can work through it! this is just another bump in the road, there’s no need to hide!
from the balcony, your gaze settles on vox down below. you almost feel sorrowful and your heart begins to ache. sometimes you miss him, and sometimes you miss the comfort of his arms. he was a hurricane just as he was a summers day, and that was the man you fell in love with. you knew his love was sick, but that was expected from demons… right? not his though, it was far too gone to be considered a daydream.
“doll, we were meant to be!” vox pleaded, his gaze never leaving yours.
you never answered to his pleas.
“it’s that fucking radio demon, right!?” vox accused. here comes a tantrum.
you turned to face away.
“please, we were going to be overlords — together!” back to broken promises you were unsure if it were true.
a yandere is someone who is in love with you, and that’s a dream come true for anyone who wishes for love. but god, do you wish it wasn’t you.
vox never stopped sending gifts to the hotel after that. nor has he stopped coming by to the building just to try and convince you to leave. his heart is aching, and only you are his medicine.
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mysicklove · 6 months
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𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍
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DAY 27: OVERSTIMULATION + EDGING
With: Megumi Fushiguro and Yuuji Itadori
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: sub! Megumi x dom! gn! reader x sub! Yuuji, sadistic/crazy?/meanish reader, weird amounts of cum...like a strangely alot of cum involved, frottage - mlm (ik ik i have another day for this only but i just had to include it), handjobs, bondage, megumi in subspace, megumi goes a little insane? reader checks up on him tho, orgasm denial, orgasm control,
A/N: this is alot. like kinda hardcore. if this is ur first fic of mine or ur first dom! reader fic....try a less agressive fic LOL
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Neither of them understood how they got into this situation. The two of them were friends. Never in their lives did they think that they would see each other in positions like these. Megumi was never supposed to see Yuuji’s half-lidded eyes and flushed cheeks, and Yuuji was never supposed to see Megumi’s high pitched moans, and twitching body. It was lewd. All of it was so lewd, and it seemed to turn the boys on even more.
But of course, this wasnt the first time you've done this. It was a routine by now, but even so, the boys seemed to flush in embarrassment when the two of them knock on your apartment door together. But it may be the slight humiliation that has them crawling back each week.
The two of them sit on either side of you, trapping you in between their muscular bodies. But you weren’t afraid – In fact, even with your cornered position, you were by far in the most control. The way you and the boys like it.
Your hands move up and down in a repetitive stroking motion on both of their cocks. Fushiguro’s is longer but on the thinner side, pretty with a pinkish tip that contrasts the pale skin nicely. Itadoris was girthier, bigger in general, and an impressive sight overall. You even caught Megumi staring wide-eyed the second his best friend pulled down his pants. But even so, Yuuji appeared sheepish, almost embarrassed at his size. It was quite cute, frankly.
But now, they lay content against you. Megumi is on the stiffer side, still embarrassed at the whole situation, but his soft moans show that he is enjoying it. Yuuji, on the other hand, rests his head on your shoulder, occasionally kissing the flesh to show how pleased he is. 
“I’ve got a fun idea,” You hum, not stopping your movements on their cocks. It’s a slow pace, but not slow enough where they feel frustrated. A good motion to keep the boys from whining too much. Although, you do plan to change that.
Megumi hums, his eyes falling shut with a shaky sigh. Yuuji blinks up at you, curious. “Yeah? What is it?”
You turn to him with a smile, and accidentally stop your movements. Megumi, ever the little princess, whines out immediately in complaint. Yuuji chuckles into your shoulder at the noise, and you roll your own eyes. “Yeah. Yeah. I know. I know,” You say, hands moving again before he could bark out a real complaint.
“Well,” You hum and then scan the room. “Need a coin or something small,” You murmur, eyes furrowing to search your place for the object. Yuuji, ever the one to please, doesn’t hesitate to pull away from your touch and go searching through his bag stark naked.
Megumi blinks at him and then leans on you, his messy hair tickling your chin. “He is like a dog.”
“It’s cute.”
“Yeah. Can you?” He mumbles into your neck. You smile, knowing exactly what he wants, and thumb at his cock’s head. His eyes slightly roll back, and he groans into your skin. “J-Just like that.”
Yuuji is back in less than a minute, slotting himself in the space next to you, and slightly grinding himself on your knee for a little extra stimulation. He hands you the coin, and you smile at him, kissing his cheek in reward. He beams at you, and you can’t help but smile back. 
You pull your hand away from Megumi again, and he basically growls into your shoulder. “So dramatic,” You tease as the boy pouts, grumbling and looking away. “Alright. I'm going to put this coin in one of my hands behind my back, and you guys have to guess which one has it.”
“What’s this for?” The dark-haired one demands.
“You will still touch us, right?” The pink-haired one pleads.
You chuckle at them both. “It’s a secret. And yes, don’t worry, sweetheart.”
They were both intrigued by your actions but obviously wanted whatever game this is to go by quickly so that you'll begin to jerk them off again. 
“Whoever guesses correctly gets to cum tonight, and the other does not.”
The boys eyes snap to one another. Neither of them wants the latter. Their kinship was put to a hold. In this moment, all either of them wanted was to have a shattering orgasm.
You place your hands behind your back and move the coin into a hand that they dont see. Then your place two fists in front of them. “Alright who is guessing first?”
You should have known that the two of them werent willing to be polite to one another. “That one!” Both of the boys exclaim, pointing to the fist farthest from each of them. At least they chose different hands, you note, trying to hold back a grin. 
The two of them vibrate with nerves, leaning forward and almost pushing at one another. You hold your hands out and wait for a moment, building up more tension. Megumi barks a complaint about how long you are taking, so you roll your eyes and flip your hand open, exposing the coin to the boys.
Yuuji seems to deflate, eyes widening, and then collapsing his head onto your shoulder with a broken whine. Megumi on the other hand tries not to show his excitement, but the widening grin on his face, and the way his fists clench in victory conveys otherwise. 
You spare him a feline grin, and he immediately knows that something is amiss. Yuuji wasnt the one to get put through much harsh treatment, considering the boy was always the sweetest to you. Pampered, the two of them were, even if Megumi was a little bit more temperamental. It was rare for them to get punished. You had your rules to follow, and they did (even if Megumi complained once or twice) without hesitation. So there was never a need to be mean to them.
But of course, you never did need a reason, did you?
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Yuuji stares. As if in a trance, the dark eyes never leave the sight in front of him. He is completely infatuated by it, desires it, really. 
Two quick strokes, focusing primarily on the head, snaps Yuuji out of his trance in an instant. His back straightens, and his eyes widen as he doubles over on himself, nails digging into his thigh. He lets out a shaky, “Heh-Ah!” and his whole body shivers. He was teetering on the edge, just one more stroke and he was bound to come crumbling down. He wanted nothing more than to do so. Your hands pull away, and Yuuji's mouth goes dry, but he doesnt complain. His eyes flicker to it again.
“No. No. No more. No more! I can't do it anymore!” The dark haired man screeches, shaking his head from side to side and biting on his lip. Cum glides down the pink tip, and it begins to coat his balls a murky shade of white. It's sticky, and it makes him feel gross, but his stomach and thighs were no better. It was everywhere, or at least Megumi feels so.
His eyes are tied behind his back. A cruel precaution that Yuuji didn't have. But that is simply because Yuuji was less likely to touch himself than Megumi was to touch you. His wrists are bound together in pretty red soft rope. Your favorite of course. He hates it.
Megumi's legs kick out, and tears stain his face. You frown at him, using your free hand to remove the lip from his teeth. “You're gonna hurt yourself,” You mumble, pouting slightly, and forcing his mouth open. He sniffles, shaking his head, but lets you.
“Y-You're hurting me!” He yelps, leaning his body toward you to convey how upset he feels. 
You bark a laugh, shaking your head. “Well that's dramatic. To cum and cum on repeat sounds so appealing…” Your eyes flicker to the pink haired boy. “To Yuuji at least, yeah?”
Megumi notices for the first time tonight Yuuji's stare. It wasn't on his face though, it was focused solely on his now white coated cock. He is panting, chest raising and falling with each deep breath. A drop of precum falls onto the towel beneath him, but he doesn't spare it a glance. His dark eyes never leave Megumi’s cock. Envy is what he feels. How badly did he wish his own dick was stained that color.
Megumi tries to shut his legs in embarrassment, but your hand was currently resting on the base of it, so he fails to. You use one hand to force them apart so that Yuuji can see, and then you give Megumi three warning strokes. His body arches and a broken cry is let out from the overstimulation. He has already cum three times now in this short span of time.
You hover near his ear, gazing at Yuuji in amusement. “Look ‘gumi. He’s enthralled by it. All he wants to do is cum, and here you are complaining about it!” You purr, kissing his cheek and then pulling away.
Yuuji finally speaks up, probably seeing that you kissed the other from his peripheral vision. He glances up at you, and his shoulders slump. “Please.”
A puddle of precum has formed beneath him, but it was nothing compared to the liquid that coats Megumi's pale skin. Your hands begin to pick up the slow pace again, and the boy begins to hiss out. He squirms in your hold, and gets close enough to you for his teeth to latch onto your shoulder. You chuckle at him, but bare him no mind. “What are you pleading about, Yuuji darling?”
He opens his mouth, glances at Megumi who is trying desperately to tear out of the restraints, and then closes it again. His friend's cries go straight to his cock, that was borderline turning purple at this point. He shakes his head, and puppy dog eyes bore into yours. “Please. It hurts.”
You reach over to him, and Yuuji knows better than to get his hopes up. In fact he knows exactly what is happening, so he squeezes his eyes shut and braces himself. One slow pump, and then two, and Yuuji is just grazing his high. He can almost taste it, but you pull away before he can fully experience it. His fingers tense up, and he forcefully raises them to his head to cover his eyes. He was bound to touch himself if he kept them there. Yuuji clenches his teeth and groans, while his cock twitches a couple times, and another glob drops.
“F-Fuck me,” He cries after a moment, resisting the urge to bury his fingers into his skin to hopefully ease the tortuous feeling. 
Your hand makes a particularly loud squelching noise, and Yuuji's eyes are back onto your hand and Megumi's cock. He stares at it with need wanting nothing more to be covered in his own cum. To cum as many times as he wishes. It was driving him insane.
Megumi seems to be curling into you. His head somehow found his way into your neck, and he sobs into it, searching for some sort of comfort. He is hiccuping by now, and a bountiful of different fluids coat his face, let out without his control. “So mean. Mean. Mean. Mean,” The boy chants, and you hum at him, petting his hair.
“I know. But you are so pretty like this, you know I can't help it,” You murmur, one hand continuing to stroke him off, while the other tries to comfort him.
“Noooooo,” He whines in return, and you kiss his temple, mumbling into his ear about how wrong he is. 
You hear Yuuji call your name and you spare him a glance. Tears were finally cascading down his pretty tan face, and your eyes light up. “What's wrong, Yuuji?”
He comes tumbling forward, his forehead resting on the bed before you. He cries into it, and grips onto the sheets just inches from Megumi's knee. “I-It hurts. I'm going insane. Please. Please, I'll do anything. Please let me cum, I am begging you,” He warbles, close to tearing the sheets apart. 
You sigh and look away from the two. “Well you two are no fun,” You complain, ignoring the way Megumi whines into your neck. Yuuji doesn't move from his bowing position. “Yuuji, you want to cum?”
“I-I'll do anything! I promise!” He proclaims into the sheet.
You smile at the back of his head. “Good! You can rut against Megumi's cock then, since you've been eyeing it all night.”
You pull your hand away from the cum coated cock, and wipe the remains on Megumi's thighs. He remains quiet, trying to catch his breath.
Yuuji raises his head from his bowed position, his cheeks flushed a bright shade of pink. He glances at his friend's trembling body and gulps. “That will…I–F-Fushiguro?”
Green eyes flicker to you first, and it doesn't take much thought to realize that he seemed to slip into the subspace. The eyes are hazy, and little thought seems to be behind them. “You…Want me to?”
You rub at his cheek. “I do. You'll make Yuuji feel good. And I bet you'll have fun too!” You coax, already helping him out of his place in your lap. He struggles to stay up, body nearly collapsing from exertion. Yuuji catches him before he falls back, and you grin at the pink haired boy with a nod.
The hands still remain tied behind his back, and he holds himself up on his knees. Yuuji is in a similar kneeling position, stabilizing the other by holding onto his shoulder. His eyes flicker back to Megumi's cock, completely naturally lubricated, and then he shakes his head to snap out of his thoughts. “I-It wont take me long, okay Fushiguro? J-Just need...Need a little stimulation…Please?”
“Yeah, I know. Just be gentle, please. I’m s-sensitive,” He mumbles in return, strangely not caring about his tear and drool face. Even his stained cock didn't bother him.
Yuuji nods his head, and gulps, turning to you for confirmation. You nod at him, and in return, he brings Megumi's body closer to his. Their stomachs touch, and the pink haired man places his head in the others neck. He brings one hand to Megumi's ass, and pushes it forward, forcing the two of their cocks to touch.
Its so wet, so lubricated, and must be so easy to glide against. Yuujis eyes roll back, and Megumi lets out a broken cry. He starts his rutting, and everything seems to go blank. It's wet, and the two of their cocks make a lewd sort of noise that drives him insane. “Oh fuck, Fushiguro,” Yuuji whimpers, and Megumi in return cries out. 
He forces Megumis body closer to his, and the man yelps. “Gentle Itadori, p-please!” But the other doesnt listen, and continues to grind their cocks together at a rapid pace, loving the feeling of the sticky lubrication. More tears come tumbling out of the dark haired man, and you watch in silence, completely intrigued by the whole thing. 
You watch Yuuji grab some cum from Megumis thighs, and place it onto their cocks. He moans out, and your eyes widen in delight. “Yuuji,” You purr, and the man glances over at you, shivering under your gaze. “If you get him to cum again, could you imagine how much extra lubricant you will have?”
Yuujis eyes widen at the prospect, and he begins to respond, but is cut off. Megumi begins to laugh, and the noise startles the both of you. The laugh is more like a yelp, a sort of mix of a cry and a giggle. You glance over to him, and his face is broken out into a grin. The tears dont stop flowing from his eyes, and his whole body is twitching rapidly under Yuuji's hold. A strange sight. 
“Megumi,” You question, forcing Yuujis hips away from the other to give him space just in case something was wrong. “You alright, love?”
He shakes his head back and forth rapidly and you raise your eyebrows.  “N-Nothings gonna come out!” He giggles with a hiccup, and Yuuji's eyes widen in surprise. “Gonna shoot blanks!”
You gulp, and a shiver runs down your spine. You feel Yuujis gaze on you, but you don't look away from Megumi. “I-I wanna see it,” You whisper, pupils dilating at the prospect. You let go of Yuujis hips, and nod at him to continue.
“I-I dont think I can last that long,” The pink haired one mumbles out, and you brush him off.
“You will, do you understand?”
He whimpers, but nods, and then brings Megumi back closer to him. But to both of their surprises, you wrap your hand around their cocks. Yuuji whines, and Megumi borderlines yelps. You don't say anything as your hand rises and falls. “N-No, no, no. I can't last. Please. Please.”
Megumi's fit of giggles ends quickly, and he's back to crying. Yuuji’s teeth dig into his neck, and the dark haired man's back arches and he hisses out. “Yes you can,” You encourage, “You just gotta wait for Megumi to cum.”
Yuujis arms come wrapped around the other, and he begins to grind himself onto the other. “F-Fushiguro, you have to cum. Please cum. Please please cum!” He pleads, hoping that his movement will help spur the other on.
Megumi shakes his head back and forth, and he continues to sob. “I-I'm close. Its too much, oh fuck!” Your hand focuses on the tip, and you watch Megumi's hands try to break out of the restraints again.
Yuujis nails drag down the others' backs and by now, he's crying. “It hurts. I need it. Please. I can't hold it. Please Fushiguro let me cum!”
A broken cry is let out, and Megumi hits his climax. The second Yuuji sees Megumi's eyes roll back, he comes tumbling after him. Unlike the stoic boy proclaimed earlier, two globs of cum leak out of his pink cock. But, to be honest, you're not too disappointed, because the sight of them cumming together was truly a pretty sight. Yuuji shoots his load all over Megumi's stomach.
Yuuji clings onto the other like Megumi was some sort of lifeline, and if Megumi didn't have his hands binded, you are sure he would do the same. Tears stain the tan boy's shoulder, and he continues to hiccup through it all. Yuuji, on the other hand, is loud. He moans out, high in pitch and cracked.
And when the two come down from their high they peel away from each other, completely spent. Yuuji finds himself resting his head on your shoulder, with a content smile, and Megumi is sprawled across your lap, currently getting untied and cleaned up. And eventually, once the two of them are cleaned up, and receive proper after care (involving tons and tons of praise for megumi, and physical affection for Yuuji), the two of them pass out, curled up next to one another.
But everything after that night was strange. Whenever you ask them to guess what the hand of the coin is, the boys seem to scamper away from you, completely terrified of the outcome. It was a pity, truly, especially since you plan to have them switch positions next time. Luckily you didn't need a coin game to decide their fates.
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osaemu · 9 months
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ MEET ME IN THE AFTERGLOW ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ post-sukuna fight: no victory comes without a loss, and his win came at the cost of his eyesight
contents: fem!reader. some combination of hurt/comfort, angst, and fluff.
author's note: inspired by levi at the end of aot ꨄ︎
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7:58 PM
satoru gojo had always had the best eyes. sorcerer, curse, human – you could search the whole world, and nobody else would even come close.
but the aftermath of satoru's fight with sukuna changed everything. after a long, painful battle, satoru came out on top, but at a great cost. his eyes.
dying wishes are powerful, especially from a curse as strong as sukuna. right before the king of curses was done for, he pooled everything he had left into a final attack to ensure that satoru gojo would never be the same. he succeeded.
now, almost a week after the fight, long after the dust settled and peace had reclaimed the jujutsu society, satoru still insists on wearing his blindfold around the clock.
no matter what you try or how you ask, he stubbornly refuses let you see underneath. actually, it'd be more accurate to say that he doesn't respond at all. after all, to your dismay, he's a master at avoiding questions and delaying answers.
you weren't even sure if there was any change to how he looked. maybe he looked the exact same underneath. maybe he had a couple scars. fuck, for all you knew he didn't even have eyes at all anymore.
you just wish he would let you see the new him. he doesn't even have it that bad – thanks to six-eyes, he can still see the silhouettes of cursed energy. and he wore a blindfold most days anyway, so it wasn't too much of a change.
which is why you weren't sure why he wouldn't just take the damn blindfold off.
"satoru, please let me see," you beg, tugging at his shirt sleeve. "i miss your pretty face. and honestly, who wears a blindfold to bed?"
he laughs at your incredulous question, but it sounds forced and unnatural. satoru tugs his arm away and waves you off. "let me take a shower, 'kay? i just got out of work, and i'm probably covered in germs."
you hate this new satoru – the one who won't let you get too close or even see his face anymore. he just won't open up to you, and it's frustrating. "satoru, please? let me in."
at the sound of your pleading voice, satoru rests one hand on the bathroom door and sighs before turning around to face you. he's smiling, but it seems so off – like all his smiles do nowadays.
"you try'n to watch me shower, sweetheart?" he cracks, running a hand through his hair. "i know you love seeing me naked, but-"
"satoru." 
"get off my dick," he grumbles lightly, before strolling into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. maybe you imagine it, but you could swear that you hear the soft click of a lock turning.
10:34 PM
"good night, sweetheart," satoru mumbles, pressing his lips to your shoulder and rolling over onto his side. he still has his blindfold on, and the almost undetectable glow eminating from his skin shows that he has a very subtle form of limitless active.
it's been like this every night.
"satoru, can we talk?" you whisper, trailing a hand through his damp white hair. "please?"
"is it about the blindfold?"
"obviously."
he sighs and rolls over again to face you, the soft glow fading from his skin. "give it a rest, yeah?" he says, exasperated. "i'm not ready for anyone to see."
"satoru, even you don't know what your eyes look like under the blindfold," you murmur. "and do you really trust me that little?"
he lifts one of his hands and rests it on your shoulder, thumb tracing circles as he leans in and says "of course i trust you."
you shake your head and sit up, pressing your back against the headboard. "no, you don't."
"then why'd you as-"
"why do you sleep with limitless on now?" you interject, crossing your arms. "what happened to 'i never have limitless on around you'?" you whisper, quoting something he told you when you two first starting dating. back when he could look you in the eye.
satoru sighs again and sits up alongside you. "you know why."
"you seriously think i'd do that?"
"i..." he trails off, slipping a finger underneath his blindfold to rub one of his eyes. "i don't know. all i know is that i'm not ready for anyone to see me like... this." 
"satoru, you can't keep running away from everyone forever," you say, shaking your head again. "you-"
"i know, i know," he mutters. "it's not that simple."
he's stubborn – he always has been. and you're mostly used to it, which is why you know that the best way to get satoru to change his mind on something is to ease him into it instead of pushing and shoving.
so you switch gears, and instead of arguing more you reach out and take his hand. "what are you afraid of?"
"nothing. i'm the strongest," satoru replies automatically. the response sounds so automated, so pre-written that you can't help but smile. 
"okay," you say neutrally, trying to reword your question. "why don't you want to show me what your eyes look like? you've haven't even seen them yourself."
satoru smiles sourly and his hands curl into white-knuckled fists around the bedsheets. "and i never will. i'm blind now, remember, sweetheart?" his words are laced with bitterness, even (and especially) in the final word. 
but it wasn't you who satoru was resentful towards. it was himself. 
how could he have so foolishly let down his guard before sukuna was confirmed to be dead? how could he let his characteristic arrogance get the better of him? he made the same mistake when he was a teen, and now he's done it again as the strongest – although this event may have stripped him of his title.
a mixture of emotions crosses what little you can see of his face, and it's now more than ever that you wish you could be there for him. 
but he's the only one alive who knows what it's like to be the strongest.
so as much as you wish you could tell him that everything's going to be okay and that he'll always be the strongest, you know damn well that you don't know and that he might not be.
somehow, this conversation has evolved from your desire to see his face to something more.
a silent, mutual understanding passes between you and satoru, and the thickness in the air slowly dissolves. 
"sorry," you breathe. "i was being selfish, wasn't i?"
satoru shakes his head, a smile growing on his face. "nah, you're right. i don't even know what i look like."
he lifts a hand and slips his thumb underneath his blindfold, and after a brief moment of hesitation, slides it off.
to your surprise, satoru looks more or less the same. his eyes aren't cloudy and they still glow with that familiar bright blue. the only difference, which was expected, was how his eyes didn't quite settle on you. they were pointed in your direction, but his eyes didn't entirely focus on you.
"so?" satoru asks, running a finger over his eyes. "how bad is it?"
"satoru, you look the same."
he blinks and doesn't answer for a second, as if he's processing the information. "really?" he asks, an unreadable expression on his face.
"yep."
"oh. well, that was anticlimactic," satoru says with a lopsided grin. he leans forward and scoots down from his spot against the headboard, laying his head on a pillow and pulling you on top of his chest. "my bad."
"you idiot," you mumble, pressing your face into his neck. "i didn't get to see your pretty face for a whole week."
"ah, i believe it was only six days."
"and satoru, you even turned on limitless at night! the hell would i even do? cut your blindfold off in the middle of the night?" you grumble, looking up at him with narrowed eyes. "and i can't believe that the only reason you didn't want to show me your face is because you thought you weren't pretty anymore!"
satoru grins lazily and rests one of his hands on your waist, slipping a finger under the waistband of your shorts and idly rubbing your skin.  "keep venting, sweetheart. it's cute."
he laughs when you swat him with another pillow and pulls you in for a long kiss. and that's when you know that things might never go back to how they were in satoru's glory days. 
but as the night falls and slips away in satoru's arms, you think that maybe, just maybe, this works too.
5K notes · View notes
scuderiahoney · 4 months
Text
Always Walk Me Home
Max Verstappen x Reader // Strawberry Wine Pt I
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Strawberry Wine Series
Masterlist
Summary: You and Max are keeping things casual. Sooo casual. You can be casual. Right?
Word Count: 4.3k
a/n: Heeeeere we go, his number is in my bio for a reason, it’s my other favorite boy! This one is heavily inspired by some of the prompts on this list. anyways enjoy!
Warnings: alcohol/mild intoxication, mild sexual references, google translated Dutch
Things with Max are… brand new. Everything is still fresh. Everything he does gives you butterflies, makes your heart skip a beat. It’s the honeymoon phase, as everyone calls it.
It’s so brand new that nobody knows. Nothing is… official, yet. You’ve just been on a few dates, had a few movie nights. You’ve stayed at his place a couple times, waking up with his arm around your waist and Jimmy and Sassy curled up next to you. It’s casual. You’re keeping things casual. Max seems content to feel things out, to keep seeing you without labeling it. You’re trying so hard to be casual about it that it’s almost embarrassing.
You feel like everyone sees straight through you. On top of spending time alone together, you and Max are friends, so you see each other at group outings and clubs and dinners with your other friends. Max acts the same there as he always has- kind, courteous, and friendly. You won’t lie, sometimes you wish he’d hold your hand or pull your chair out for you or something, anything to show you that you’re not the only one feeling less than casual. But you’re scared of scaring him away, so you keep your mouth shut.
…..
You’re out to dinner with friends, somehow ending up sitting next to him. It’s nice, really nice. You can smell his cologne, can feel the warmth radiating off of him at the packed table. You have to fight the urge to nudge his foot with yours, to press your knee against his. That wouldn’t be very casual of you. You can do this, you can be normal.
He’s saying something to the person next to him, laughing and leaning towards them. You want to be the reason he’s laughing, want to be in on the jokes. You keep your mouth shut and look at the menu instead.
“What are you going to get?” Max asks.
He’s suddenly in your space. He’s leaning close, his shoulder brushing against yours. Be normal. You shrug, sliding your finger down the menu.
“Probably the shrimp scampi,” you say, pointing at the item.
Max nods. “You love seafood.”
You blink, breath caught in your chest. He’s right, but you didn’t know he knew that. Let alone for him to say it as fact. It’s not like he’s whispering either- someone else could hear. It’s silly, because it’s such a small thing, but you’re overanalyzing everything about it.
“I do,” you agree, turning and smiling at him.
“I remember things,” he says, a soft smile on his face, and now your face is growing hot.
Someone draws his attention away, and you look back to the menu. You nearly yelp in shock when something brushes your knee, but- it’s Max, you realize with a start, his hand searching for something. You hold your breath. His fingers find yours, and he interlaces your hands, palm to palm. He keeps them resting on your leg.
You try to take even breaths. He’s holding your hand in public, with your friends right next to you. Sure, it’s under the table, but this is the most you’ve gotten from him in a setting like this. He’s held your hand on dates, done much more in the privacy of his home, but here it feels overwhelming. His thumb brushes over the back of your hand, and you resist the urge to hold on so tightly to him that he can’t let go.
Eventually the food comes, and you both let go so you can eat. But it was nice while it lasted.
…..
Max’s apartment is spacious and cozy, despite the fact that he’s gone from it so often. There’s a warmth here, an aura that just screams Max. His cats roam freely, though while you’re there they have a tendency to follow you around.
“They are traitors,” Max accuses as Jimmy and Sassy weave around your ankles in the kitchen.
“Maybe I’m just better than you,” you say.
“Oh, you are,” he says, sending up a swirl of butterflies in your stomach. “But I feed them. So they are traitors.”
You laugh, leaning down to pet the cats. They nudge their heads against your hands and legs, paw at your socks, and when you walk into the living room, they follow after. Max just watches with disappointment.
By the time he joins you in the living room, drinks in hand, both of them are curled up in your lap. He lets out a huff and sets the drinks on the table. Then he’s nudging at the cats, and you cry out when he pushes them both off your lap.
“Max!” You say, appalled.
He laughs, lays down on the couch, and promptly placed his head exactly where the two cats had been. He stares up at you with a wide grin, eyes squeezed nearly shut.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hi,” you answer.
He reaches for one of your hands. He squeezes your fingers softly before bringing your hand up to his hair. You laugh and take the hint, start running your fingers through the blonde strands. He lets his eyes fall shut. Then you watch as he brings his hand up, purses his lips, and points at them.
You take that hint too, lean over and plant a kiss on his lips. When you try to pull away, he wraps a hand around the back of your neck and keeps you there. He deepens the kiss, fingers slipping into the hair at the nape of your neck to hold you there. It’s not the best angle, but it’s nice, always nice to kiss him.
He finally lets you go and collapses back into your lap, a satisfied smile on his reddened lips.
…..
“I can’t open it!” You squeak. “What the fuck, how do they make it look so easy?”
You’re holding a bottle of champagne in your friend’s apartment, trying to get the cork out. It doesn’t help that you’re scared- one too many horror stories about someone getting a cork to the eye, or breaking a window. You huff and try again, gently. No use.
“Lando slams it on the ground,” your friend suggests, her eyebrows raised.
“Yeah, and he also shattered one of Max’s trophies,” you say. “So maybe not the best example.”
You hear familiar laughter, then, and you drop one hand to your side, still holding the bottle in front of you with the other. Max makes his way through the kitchen, a smile on his lips that paints his whole face. You hold it out to him, pouting.
“No, no,” he says. “I’ll show you.”
He wraps his hand around yours, around the bottle. You can’t lie, your mind goes somewhere else for a second, but you tamp those thoughts down and try to focus.
“See, you put this hand on the cork,” he instructs, “and this hand on the bottom.”
His hands are warm over yours. Your face feels hot. Does he feel the sparks when his skin touches yours, too? Or is this normal for him? Is it just a friend helping another friend? You wish you knew, wish he’d say something to quell your worries and calm your racing heart.
“-and then you twist, like this,” he demonstrates.
The bottle hisses, and you jump, but there’s no dramatic pop, no shooting of the cork. You just pull it out, and you stare at the bottle with wide eyes. Oh. That was-
“Easy, right?” He says. “You are already a pro.”
You laugh, shake your head, and hold out the bottle to your friends, standing there with their empty glasses. You want to study their faces, ask them if they noticed anything. You want to ask if they saw the sparks, too. Someone takes the bottle, and your hands fall to your side, the cork still between your fingers.
Your knuckles brush against something- when you look, it’s Max’s hand. He’s still standing there, watching as everyone passes the bottle around. You swallow tightly, bump your hand into his. Deliberately. You want to look up at his face, want to gauge his reaction, but you resist the urge.
Max reaches his pinky out and hooks it with yours. For just a moment, standing in the kitchen, surrounded by your friends, you’re linked. The sparks run from his finger, up your wrist and arm and straight to your heart. Your chest fizzes like the champagne, bubbly and overflowing.
…..
You weren’t even planning on seeing Max tonight. It’s a girls night, one that’s been suggested over and over, each of you being too busy to make it happen until tonight. You’re at your favorite bar, bass thudding in your chest, your friends all around you.
And then, there’s a tingling feeling in your spine. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Someone is watching you. You turn over your shoulder and lock eyes with Max.
He’s leaning against the wall, one ankle crossed over the other. He has a black t-shirt on that’s always been one of your favorites- it hugs his upper arms and his chest so perfectly. He’s watching you, a soft smirk on his lips, a drink in his hand. Everyone is moving around you, but you’re stuck on him.
You smile, wave, and force yourself to turn back to your friends. You like him, you want to spend time with him, but you’ve been neglecting your friendships because of it. Your friends have been teasing you all night about how you’ve been too busy, how you keep checking your phone, how there must be a guy. You’ve denied it at every turn. You can’t leave them now. Ditching your friends for the guy who isn’t even your boyfriend would be the opposite of casual. You force yourself not to look at him, but you swear you can still feel him staring.
Ten minutes later, a bartender appears with a tray of shots and lime wedges. “For you,” she says, pointing at you, and your friends squeal in excitement. She points behind you, then. “From him.”
You turn over your shoulder again. Max is watching, and waving this time. You laugh and wave back, and your friends all do the same. He’s far away, too far to make it in time as you each grab a shot and throw them back in unison. You put the lime between your lips and turn to look at him again, raising your brows. He laughs, eyes lit up so bright you can see the blue even across the room, you swear. Then he juts his chin in the direction of the hallway when nobody else is looking. A message just for you.
You find him out there ten minutes later, trying not to make it obvious and taking the time to come up with an excuse- you fake a phone call. The hall is empty when you walk out, and you wonder if he’s given up on you- you know you saw him walk out. Then he pops his head out from around a corner and waves you over frantically.
He’s leaning against the wall, the same way he was in the club. You stand against the wall on the other side of the hallway and stare at him.
“I’m not leaving right now,” you say. “I promised I’d stay out late.”
“I know,” he says. “Just wanted to see you.”
You tilt your head. “Yeah? Seeing me across the bar wasn’t enough?”
The tequila running in your veins has you feeling braver than usual. It doesn’t seem to scare Max. He just grins wider, brow quirked.
“No, it wasn’t,” he says. “You’re pretty from far away, but even prettier up close.”
Your face feels hot. He pushes off from the wall, leans towards you. He could box you in if he wanted, could pin you right there, but he doesn’t. Instead, he takes your hand in his and pulls you away from the wall, too. The kiss he sweeps you into is sweet. He wraps his arm around you, and you sling yours around the back of his neck. One of his hands cradles the side of your face as he deepens the kiss. Out of all of it, you’re much more focused on the feeling of his thumb on your cheek than the feeling of his lips on yours. It’s strangely intimate, strangely soft, the way he holds you as he kisses you in the hallway of a bar. The way his nose nudges against your cheek, the way he pulls you closer and closer like he can’t get enough.
He pulls away, leaves you gasping for air.
“You taste like lime,” he says.
You nod, dumbfounded.
“You should go back to your friends,” he suggests, kissing your temple. “If I keep kissing you I won’t want to let you go.”
You breathe out a laugh and slap his shoulder. “If you keep staring at me in the club I won’t be able to focus on anything else.”
He laughs. “I know,” he says. “That’s what makes it fun. Besides, you’re fun to watch.”
…..
Three days later, Max is holding your purse. He’d taken it from you when you were all standing in the lobby of the restaurant and your friend dragged you into the bathroom. He’d promised to keep it safe. Now you’re back, your friends are gathering their things and saying goodbyes, getting ready to go home. You’re watching him.
The little black bag looks even smaller in his hands. His fingers are wrapped around the clutch, thumb rubbing back and forth across one of the stitches the same way it had on your skin the night before. He’s talking to someone else, but when there’s a break in the conversation, you nudge him.
“I can take that back,” you say, holding your hand out.
He tilts his head, blinks softly. “That’s okay. I’ll carry it.”
You’re sure you’re staring at him like a deer in the headlights. “Okay, but I’m leaving, so I need my purse.”
He nods. “I thought maybe I could walk you home. If you wanted.”
You nod in response, feeling a bit dumbfounded. The two of you exit the restaurant, waving goodbye to your friends. He takes your hand the second you’re outside, your purse still in his other one. Your fingers knit together like second nature, now. You could predict the pattern of the brush of his thumb against your skin like clockwork.
Your apartment isn’t far, but you find yourself walking slow on purpose, prolonging the moment. You pass people on the street and you know that to them, the two of you look like a real, actual couple. It’s nice to pretend. You lean into his shoulder, and he stumbles and laughs and keeps both of you upright. The two of you talk the whole way there, about everything and nothing and all the stuff in between.
When you reach the apartment building, he finally holds your purse out to you. You open the clutch, digging through it to find your keys and the front door access card. He watches in amusement as your fingers fumble through the bag.
“D’you wanna come up?” You ask. “I have some of that wine you like.”
You pull the card triumphantly from your bag. You look up at him, and he’s smiling softly, something sparkling in his eyes that makes your breath hitch. Makes the champagne bubble in your chest all over again.
“That’s okay,” he says, softly. “I’ve got to get back to the cats. But can I take you to breakfast tomorrow?”
You blink, card still pinched between your fingers. “Yeah, sure.”
He tilts his head at you. “Maybe brunch. You are going to need sleep. How about you text me when you wake up and we’ll go from there?”
You nod. He nods back. Then he reaches up, cups the side of your face in his hand. He’s so gentle about it, more so than he normally is. When he presses his lips to yours, he tastes like gin and he kisses like… like he cares for you. Like this isn’t leading somewhere else, like he’s not going to pull you into his lap and start trailing kisses down your neck. He kisses you just to kiss you, just to say goodnight.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says when he pulls away. “Goodnight, liefje.”
You smile up at him. “Goodnight, Max.”
He smiles back. Then he leans forward and presses his lips to your forehead softly. You swear you’re melting into the sidewalk. You must be a puddle under his feet. You want to press yourself into his chest, tell him to wrap his arms around you, ask him to never let you go.
But you’re trying so hard to be so good at being casual, so you kiss his cheek, turn around, and walk inside. You take the elevator up, leaning against the wall and covering your giddy smile with your hand. When you get into your apartment, kick off your heels, and drop your bag on the counter, your phone buzzes. It’s a call. You look at the screen and see Max’s face.
“Hello?” You answer.
“Did you get in alright?” He asks.
Your heart squeezes fiercely in your chest. He sounds so soft, asking it. You walk over to the window, peel back the curtains, hoping you’re right about what you think you’ll see. There he is, still standing in front of the entrance, phone to his ear. He’s staring up at your window. When he sees you, he waves.
“Yeah,” you say. “You didn’t have to wait, you know.”
But I’m so glad you did.
“Yes I did,” he says, voice soft and scratchy from the night out. “Had to make sure you were safe.”
“Okay,” you breathe. “Let me know when you get home, okay?”
“I will,” he says. You watch as he waves again, smiling up at you. “Goodnight.”
…..
He picks you up for brunch the next day. By the time you’re in his car, it’s nearly 10:30. He drives with his hand on your knee, like always, fingers dancing across your exposed skin below the hem of your sundress. You like watching him drive, like being here with him. He pulls up to the restaurant and runs around to open your door for you, leaving you laughing. He hands the keys to the valet. Then he slips his arm around your waist and leads you inside.
You’ve been on dates with him, but none this fancy, none where you feel a little out of your element. Max seems comfortable, though- it’s moments like these where you’re reminded he’s not just your-friend-Max. He’s F1-world-champion-Max-Verstappen. Of course he can get a reservation here with such short notice. They’re honored to have him here.
A waiter leads you to a booth in the back. The restaurant is bright and airy, fresh flowers on every table. Max asks for a pitcher of water and orange juice before the waiter leaves. He pulls your chair out for you, pushes it in when you sit down. Your palms are sweating, heart beating rapidly. It’s just- this is the closest you’ve come to feeling like you’re actually dating him. Suddenly, it’s terrifying.
You ask him what’s good on the menu. He points out his favorites- the French toast, the eggs Benedict, the omelettes. He tells you he’s going to order a fruit sampler for the two of you to share, and you smile softly.
“They always have the best strawberries,” he tells you, eyes lit up. “You love strawberries.”
“I do,” you tell him, warmth filling your cheeks. “You do too.”
You’d bonded over that, when you first became friends. A strawberry wine that nobody else wanted to drink. Too sweet. You’d split the bottle with Max and went to bed with a sugar rush, your lips still tasting like strawberry. Ever since, for every special occasion, the two of you have gifted each other that same strawberry wine. It’s a running joke, among your friends- you’ll open the bottle, ask if anyone wants a glass. They’ll ignore you, but Max will come running.
He opens his mouth to say something, but over his shoulder, you spot something that makes your blood run cold.
“Shit,” you mutter.
He looks at you in concern. “What is it?”
“Nothing, just-“ you sigh. “Your coworker is here.”
Charles Leclerc has just walked in the door, a girl on his arm. The waiter is pointing in your general direction, towards an open table a little ways away. There goes your whole morning. He’s going to want to leave now.
Max turns to look, brows raised. “Oh. At least it’s one I like.”
You can’t help the laugh. “Should we go?”
Max turns back to you, perplexed. “What, get up to say hi? I don’t like him that much. He’ll come over here when he sees us.”
Us. You wish he meant it how you want him to.
“No, like-“ you sigh, gaze flickering down to the table. “You don’t want people to know, so-“
“What?” He asks, wide eyed. “What do you mean, I don’t want-“
“You didn’t want to tell anyone,” you say, quietly. You can’t look at him. “We haven’t even really talked about this, and… I figured you…”
You trail off, because you can feel him staring at you. He reaches over and tucks his finger under your chin. He tilts your face upwards towards his. His gaze is soft, a small smile on his face.
“Schatje, you have to be joking,” he says, and you stare back at him. “Of course I want to tell people. I have wanted to tell the whole world since I kissed you the first time.”
You blink. “But you- you didn’t want to put a label on it. You never…”
“We never talked about it,” he says. “I was giving you time. I’m a lot. Dating me is a lot. You are… I was following your lead.”
“Oh my god,” you blurt out, a giddy feeling in your chest. “Oh my god, I’m so dumb.”
The two of you just stare at each other for a moment. His eyes are bright and sparkling, his smile spreading across his whole face. You’re so done being casual.
Charles appears at the end of your table seconds later, smiling at the two of you. “Max, hi, good to see you. And I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met,” he adds, turning to you.
“Charles, this is my girlfriend,” Max says, reaching across the table to take your hand.
When you greet Charles, you can’t wipe the giddy grin from your face. It stays there the whole rest of the day- through breakfast, through a walk through a park, through a late lunch at Max’s with the cats winding around your ankles. Every time it starts to fade you think of Max, bright blue eyes, his finger under your chin. You fall asleep still smiling. You’re pretty sure it’ll be there when you wake up.
…..
The next time you go out with your friends, Max carries your bag the whole night. He also keeps his hand on the small of your back nearly constantly. He orders and pays for all of your drinks, includes you in all the conversations, and brushes his lips against your temple every time there’s a lull in the talking.
Nobody questions it. None of your friends even bat an eye. You find out why when you end up in the bathroom with the girls, a tradition as old as time itself.
It turns out they all already knew.
“Max told us all the day after he kissed you the first time,” someone tells you. “And then he told us we all had to act like nothing was different, because he didn’t want to scare you off.”
You collapse into a fit of laughter, bracing yourself against the sink. All this time, you were worried about it, and he’d told everyone right away. You’d thought you were the one struggling to be casual. God, you’d have saved yourself so much trouble if you’d only asked. If you’d only told him straightforward what you wanted. If you’d only been up front.
You’re giddy with it, then. You can feel it coursing through your veins and buzzing in your fingertips. You won’t call it love yet, at least not out loud. It’s too soon, right? It can’t be love. But it’s something, and now you want him next to you. You want his lips on yours again. You’re missing him even though he’s just through the door, waiting for you, your bag in his hand.
When you return to his side, you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek. You watch his smile grow and his cheeks turn red. You place your hand on his shoulder and put your lips against his ear.
“You should take me home,” you tell him.
His cheeks get even redder, and he turns to you. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you say with a nod. “You’ll walk me home, right?”
“Always,” he agrees.
He takes your hand, squeezes lightly. You feel like you’re glowing brighter than the neon lights above your head.
…..
You slip up over your morning cup of coffee three days later. The cats are in your lap. There’s the perfect amount of cream and sugar in the mug, he’s made it exactly right. The sun is shining through the windows, bouncing off his hair and painting his skin in golden light. You weren’t going to say it out loud, you really weren’t, but it slips past your lips anyways.
“I love you,” you say.
Max laughs, takes the mug from your hands, and kisses you.
Then he says it right back.
read the prequel/ sequel, Someone Sane
okay, now I’ve got my three favorite boys in the masterlist! thanks for reading! come say hi, or check out more of my writing here. drop an ask or a dm to be added to the tag list!
taglist: @4-mula1
2K notes · View notes
literaila · 1 month
Text
jealousy
gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: satoru doesn't like the way the barista is looking at you
a/n: figured i'd give you all a little fluff (save me from this void)
last part | next part
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*
year five.
“megumi, go get your mom.” 
satoru and megumi are sitting in a crowded cafe, saving your spot, waiting for you to come back. 
while the sun coming in through the window satoru is sitting across from is partially blinding him, he can still see you. 
you, trying to order, being ogled by the barista who's been granted the pleasure of speaking to you. your smile is normal--to satoru's obvious disdain--and you don't even seem to mind the man's obvious flirting. 
(not that it really means much. when satoru leans in like that, you just push him away. when he swoons at the way you've done your hair on any specific day, you just roll your eyes. 
so maybe you're not the best judge of flirting. or attraction. or how to reject a tiny schoolboy, like the one you're talking to.)
satoru's only been watching this interaction for thirty seconds, but he's had enough. 
“why?” megumi turns, looking back at you. “she’s getting us hot chocolate.” 
satoru sighs, no care in the world. can't the kid ever listen to him? “go hold her hand then.” 
“why?” 
“because.” 
“but why?” 
satoru gives megumi a (pathetic) glare. “listen to me, young man," he tries to say it like you would--if megumi ever denied any of your requests--but it doesn't work. satoru has to try not to laugh directly after the words are out of his mouth. 
so what if he doesn't want you talking to that kid? he's just looking out for you. 
megumi's brows raise. he looks... almost amused. “what’s wrong with you? you go hold her hand.” 
satoru hangs his head. you told him to sit here and keep the table for all of you, told him to watch megumi and not do anything stupid--which, to be fair, is difficult for him. so he can't go get you (save you).
and plus, he doesn't want you to know that he cares. if you like that kid--with his stupid dark hair and eyes and soft smile and obvious heart eyes--then he doesn't want to know. 
and if he goes up to you, he'll know. 
“i can’t," he tells megumi, instead of saying any of that. the boy would just cackle in his face. 
“are you scared?” megumi asks, very seriously, as if satoru is afraid of anything. 
(besides you falling for someone else, of course. but that doesn't count). 
he looks over to the kid again, who you're chatting idly with as you search through your purse. he wonders if you're telling the barista that you spend every night in his bed, making out with him until your lips are puffy. 
if he keeps smiling at you like that satoru is going to get up and tell him himself. 
satoru scoffs, looking away finally, back to megumi who looks thoroughly entertained by his father's pain. he crosses his arms. “no.” 
megumi shrugs, looking back again. seriously, satoru should've kicked him out when he had the chance. he probably would've been fine with the zenin clan. probably. 
“well, i’m not doing it," the boy says, with obvious satisfaction. 
if only tsumiki was here. satoru never should've let megumi ditch school, or let him come with you both to get coffee. tsumiki would help him. she probably would've asked you to get yakitori instead and satoru could listen to you try to make small talk with a waitress instead of that guy. 
“megumi fushiguro,” satoru begins, voice rough. “do you want your mother to live in a rat-infested apartment with a random, cesspit man, and several tiny babies running around all of the time? tiny wimpy babies? normal, human babies. you’ll have to stay over there and share a bed with multiple infants who will spit up on you.”
megumi blinks. “what are you even talking about?” 
“go stand next to her," satoru hisses, because he swears he can hear your laugh from across the cafe, and honestly he's never wanted to destroy an establishment more. 
and that's saying something. 
at least the man would be without a job and satoru would never have to see him push his hair back and tilt his head at you again. 
megumi looks back again like it's going to explain anything satoru does, and he smirks. “that guy doesn’t look too bad.” 
satoru's jaw clenches. “i will mismatch all of your socks.” 
megumi scowls at him. "all of my socks are the same, after last time." 
satoru huffs and leans back against his chair, pouting. "what did i do to deserve this?"
“do you think mom likes him?” megumi asks, voice so innocent it makes satoru want to shave his hair off. 
“go.” 
megumi blinks at him, tilting his head. yeah, he's really putting on an act now. “but she said to wait here," he reminds satoru like it matters. 
“tell her you missed her, or something," satoru goes to wave a hand, but his hand only clenches when he physically sees you laugh at the man. you're not even ordering now, you're just standing there (waiting for their drinks) talking to the guy. 
“you tell her you missed her," megumi retorts, enjoying satoru's one and only weakness. 
"no." 
"she's laughing," megumi points out, resting his chin on a hand. "and it's rude to interrupt grown-ups when they talk."  
“megumi,” satoru begs, hating the weird, annoying feeling in his chest. he wants to dig his own heart out and yell at it. “please.” 
megumi is basically smirking at him now, waiting for a beat longer for satoru to really break--and seriously kill every person within a ten-mile radius--but eventually, right before it happens, the boy sighs. his eyes are evil, evil things. 
"fine," he tells satoru, rolling his eyes. he stands up from his hair and pats satoru on the shoulder like it will make up for anything. the boy has the worst smile satoru's ever seen in his life. 
and then he makes his way through the line of people--seriously, this guy is a terrible barista--and taps you on your waist, going to stand right up against the counter. megumi says something to you--you will all of your charm, and your irresistible smiles--and you hold a hand out to him, which he grabs immediately. 
your smile, satoru notices with immense relief, shifts on instinct. it goes from something formal and polite to something genuine. you look down at your son and the barista you've been talking to for the last minute is completely irrelevant. 
and satoru takes great satisfaction in the way the kid's eyes widen, and the instinctual step back he takes--like he knows that satoru is going to hurt him if he continues to lean over the counter towards you. 
satoru relaxes, watching you ask megumi something, but only slightly. 
and after a second you turn your head, raising a brow at him. 
the little brat. 
satoru just smiles--offering you more than some shotty barista ever could--and leans back in his chair. 
“why are you being so weird today?” 
satoru’s chin is on your head, and even though you can’t see his smile, it falters, just a little bit. "don't know what you're talking about." 
"you're sticky." 
"i just showered." 
"okay," you say, turning and rolling your eyes at satoru's pout. instantly his hands go to your waist, keeping you right there with him. "first of all, no you didn't. and i didn't mean literally. you're... clingy. more clingy than usual." 
"i can't want to be around you?"
you give him a blank stare. "not when you're being weird about it." 
"how am i being weird?" 
"how aren't you?" 
satoru grins, leaning his head down to push his nose into your cheek. you smell like something sweet--something he'd devour in an instant--but he's not sure what. he doesn't even care. he doesn't answer that question, only hums into your skin. 
"see what i mean?" 
"it's not my fault that you're comfy." 
"oh, im so sorry," you say, fake pity in your voice. "let me just turn myself into stone real quick." 
satoru rolls his eyes, pulling back just so he can see the amused look on your face--yeah, he knows that you don't actually care. but the more he hangs onto you, the more affection he shows, the warier you get. 
and that's perfectly fine with him, actually. as long as you don't push him away.  
"please do," he says, so genuinely. "it would make this a lot easier." 
"make what a lot easier?" you ask, voice a bit softer. maybe it's because he's looking at you now, actually looking. 
and satoru knows, really knows, that there's not a single other person in the world who you look at like this. there's not another man that you'd let sniff you, no other man that would dare to irritate you the way that he loves to. 
satoru's worked several years to get you to be this comfortable, this easy around him. and even if there was someone else--he wouldn't give you up without a fight. 
you're his in a way that transcends labels or reality.
still, he doesn't answer that question (because you already know). he only smiles a bit more, leans in, and basks in the way your lips mold to his immediately. 
*
next part | series masterlist
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hxney-lemcn · 4 days
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Prince and the Frog — Housewardens x gn! reader
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summary: you find yourself cursed and you go to your prince to lift it.
tw: none that I can think of.
a/n: I saw something about the princess and the frog and got inspo. This is so fun, goofy, and lovely, I hope y'all enjoy <3
wc: 1.9k (~300 each character)
Master List
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You weren’t sure what you’ve done to deserve this, but even you felt it wasn’t enough. I mean a frog? Really? And the cure was a true love's kiss? Seriously? Can it get any more cliche? You might as well search for a princess and turn her into a frog as well and then set off into a journey of personal growth…you suppose a prince will have to do. You went to the first person you thought could help, time to see if they really would still love you if you were a worm, err…frog.
Riddle Rosehearts
Okay, so maybe Riddle wasn’t technically a prince, but a queen is a step above that, no? You were a little scared of his reaction, but you couldn’t stay a frog forever. Not to mention that someone else had cursed you, it’s not like you turned yourself into a frog. So when you managed to find him he freaked out, mouth agape as you explained your situation. Thank the sevens you could still talk. Riddle’s face soured, lips twisted into a scowl. At first you thought he was going to find a way to collar you in your current slippery state, but he ended up ranting about the person who cursed you, asking for any details that you could provide. The thought of kissing you to break the curse hadn’t even crossed his mind, instead skipping straight to punishing the fool who’d curse the Queen’s rose and making them reverse it. It was then that you learned just how quickly Riddle could sniff someone out if he wanted to, because the effects had been reversed by the end of the same day. (If that doesn’t show you how much he loves you then I don’t know what can).
Leona Kingscholar
…are you sure about this? I mean…yeah he’s a prince and all but he might just toss you mistaking you for a random frog who dared to encroach on his space. The type to argue he wouldn’t have to love you if you were a worm cause how ridiculous is that? Well…not so ridiculous now, huh? Thankfully, you had found Ruggie first, explaining your situation and asking for him to bring you to Leona. Not so thankfully, Ruggie found the entire thing hilarious and had to take a moment to calm himself down. He kept snickering to himself the entire way to Leona, making you want to die, or just stay a frog and live a happy life in a nice little pond and start a little froggy family. When Ruggie managed to tell Leona what was going on in between laughter Leona just stared at you like you were the stupidest motherfucker. Hey! It wasn’t like you were asking to be cursed! Has an internal conflict on what to do. On one hand he wants to prove he’s your true love, and kissing you seems to be the quickest way to get this over with…on the other you are a literal frog. Shooing Ruggie away, Leona bemoaningly gave you the quickest peck ever, making a face of disgust as he pulled away. The transformation back took a few seconds, but the look of disgust quickly turned to a smug smirk, feeling proud that you were truly his. 
Azul Ashengrotto
Okay, so again, not an actual prince…but he excelled at potions, so it only made sense…except he’ll probably make you sign your life away. So maybe not a good choice once again. I pray for you because one if not both of the Leech twins are gonna find you first and they’re gonna have a field day. ‘My, you’d look perfect in one of my terrariums’ Jade would note. Floyd would probably accidentally kill you because this entire situation is oh so hilarious and he forgot he’s supposed to be holding you gently. After the two have their fun (Jade plays with you and his terrarium like you're a doll in a dollhouse), they finally bring you to Azul, laughing their asses off in their own ways. Azul stares at you blankly as the two eel brothers leave, trying his hardest to not laugh. His face is red from concealing his humor, looking to the side to collect himself. He’ll offer you the cure, but for a price. Kiss you? He has a reputation to upkeep you know. He can’t be seen kissing frogs, imagine what that’ll do to his image! No, no, just sign the contract, and to sweeten the deal he’ll have the twins deal with the pest who thought it was a good idea to curse his angelfish. If you really persist, he’ll give in eventually. To be fair, he is also curious to see if you're his true love, but on the other hand he’s terrified if you're not. He doesn’t want to lose you. And to both your delight, you transform back after he gives you a small kiss on your little froggy head…he’s also running laps in his mind at how happy he is.
Kalim Al-Asim
He’s a prince and won’t think twice! He loves you truly, so it has to work! Too bad Jamil stumbled upon you first. Adamantly tries to hide you from Kalim and he feels his headache growing ten times worse. Why did you stupidly get yourself cursed? He asks like you did it on purpose. You didn’t know why the guy cursed you either! Jamil keeps you tucked in his hoodie until he can find time to bring you to Professor Crewel. You tried to fight him at first as you’d rather stay a frog than get detention for something you had no control over, but Jamil knew how to keep a tight leash on the unruly…it was his job after all. Unfortunately for him, Kalim walked into the kitchens right as you hopped out of his pocket. At first he was confused, and then even more confused, and then ecstatic. You hopped over to him, asking for him to protect you from Jamil (who was giving you a major side eye). Then you explained your predicament, and Jamil butted in about bringing you to Crewel. Innocently, Kalim offered to kiss you. No need to bother Crewel if the cure was so simple! Jamil couldn’t stop him in time, as Kalim kissed you the second he finished the sentence. Even Jamil couldn’t hide his disgust for a second at the action. Thankfully, Kalim was your true love as you had transformed back, and he hugged you gleefully. Unfortunately for Kalim, you refused any of his kisses until he rinsed his mouth (lmao).
Vil Schoenheit
Another queen. Best person to go to. He can whip up any cure just as fast as he can whip up any potion/poison. Rook, saw the whole encounter with the other student, and brought you to Vil without a second thought. He already knew everything about the idiot who cursed you so no need to stick around. Vil’s gaze turned into a disapproving stare as he looked at you. Even though Rook tried to stick up for you, dramatizing the whole event as stating how brave you were to face such a curse head on, Vil only shook his head. He motioned for Rook to follow him, not wanting to pick you up. He loves you, really he does, he just can’t afford to get his clothes dirty or stained. He picks the ingredients effortlessly, starting to brew the cure without a second thought. Both you and Rook seemed to want to get on his nerves as you both prattle on about true love and how he should kiss you. He didn’t expect you to be a cheesy sap (he’s lying), besides, don’t you know how many curses list true love’s kiss as the cure? The meaning is pointless. Besides, he doesn’t need some curse to prove his love for you, hasn’t he shown you how much you mean to him already? Or was he lacking, because he didn’t think you’d doubt him. Either way, you’re drinking the cure, he couldn’t risk that your slimy frog skin might make him break out. But don’t worry, if you really have room to doubt his love, he’ll make sure you can’t within the week.
Idia Shroud
Hahaha. Again, are you sure? He’s always holed up in his room, the only chance you're brought to him is if Ortho finds you (or vice versa). At first Ortho found you adorable, cooing at you as he floated to Idia’s room. He thought this was the perfect opportunity to show both you and Idia just how much you care for the other. How could either of you doubt the other if it's sealed with a true love's kiss? It was a brilliant opportunity! (Orthos a little too into this). He barely let his brother welcome them in before barging in and shoving a frog (you) into Idia’s face. At first Idia screeched, falling out of his gamer chair and scrambling away from the amphibian. Was Ortho pranking him? That’s totally uncool, he wasn’t some normie. But then Ortho happily blabbed about you and the curse and then it clicked…YOU WERE A FROG? Now he’s rolling on the floor laughing at you. You’d smack him if you WEREN’T A FROG. After he’s done laughing it up, he then freezes. Ortho wants him to kiss you? B-but that's gross! Who knows what diseases he’ll get if he kisses you. k. Wait, don't go to someone else! Fine, he’ll do it, but he won’t like it. Inside, he’s absolutely terrified. His mind is running a mile a minute. He doesn’t think you’ll actually turn back, someone like him doesn’t deserve true love…so imagine the face he makes when you do. Face a bright red, his hair a bright pink. Oh no, he feels faint. Give him a peck on the lips to finish him off.
Malleus Draconia
Uh oh. Queue the thunder and lightning. Whoever cursed you is the stupidest motherfucker. Malleus is the one to stumble upon you this time, to the disdain of his family. Lilia on one hand wanted to laugh about the situation, on the other, he knew he’d have to protect the stupid human from being smite for cursing Malleus’ love. Silver and Sebek are sweating as Malleus holds you gently in his hands. If he thought you were gentle as a human, he’s being ten times more careful with you in your froggy state. On the outside, he’s silent and brooding, on the inside he’s lamenting on finding you an enclosure where you can be happiest. What type of tank, soil, plants, water…someone please tell him this is reversible. Lilia chimes in before the rain outside can get worse, mentioning true love's kiss is able to reverse the effects. Malleus’ green slitted eyes never move from your tiny form, he finds you absolutely breathtaking even as a frog (this man is down so bad), but he’s nothing but relieved when he hears the news. Human lifespans are already small as is, he would’ve been completely gut wrenching if that time was cut even shorter. Another one who doesn’t hesitate to kiss you. This man would love you if you were a worm. He strokes your moist skin gently as he leaves a small kiss to your adorable head. His entire being, soul, mind and body all belong to you, and if that isn’t true love then I don’t know what is. His eyes shine brightly as you transform back, holding you gently as he promises to protect you from any miscreant that dares even look at you wrong…yeah so the guy who cursed you is still fucked and now you have a protective dragon at your heel 24/7.
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lanasblood · 11 months
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HOW DO I MAKE YOU LOVE ME | neteyam x reader
pairing: neteyam x f!omatikaya!reader (no mentions of y/n)
summary: you remember all of your attempts to make Neteyam fall in love with you, using various methods, experiencing numerous failures, and you finally come to a conclusion or the five times you failed to win neteyam’s affection and the one time you succeed.
word count: 10k (!!! damn)
warnings: actually none but let’s say hurt/comfort, reader is a simp, 5+1 prompt, confessing, mutual pining, mention of blood, requited/unrequited love, !!adult neteyam!!, flashbacks to childhood and teenager years
note: inspired by the five love languages and the weeknd’s song mentioned in the title.
* gif‘s not mine.
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The soft rustling of the teal leaves falling silently to the ground, as light as an ikran feather, is one of the most soothing sounds heard on the still night. The wind touches them gently, as if caressing them, before whirling them up again in a powerful gust, starting the cycle all over again. The moons stand high in the sky, and the stars sparkle like little gems that can beautify anything. The night is quiet, and the soft breeze seems to calm everything down and lull it into a deep sleep. The bright light of the bioluminescent plants lays gently on the moist meadows, illuminating the darkness. It is like a magical tale, perfect and without blemish. Yet, there is one who can't sleep in this harmonic time: you. With your arms and legs stretched out, you lie on your back, feeling like hours have passed since you started staring at the night sky without moving a muscle. You have even decided to sleep outside your hammock to hear and feel the sound of the wind, hoping to finally sink into the dreamland. But, as you know, this has done little to help. 
All because of him. You sigh in annoyance.
For as long as you can remember you've had this crush on the eldest son of the Olo'eyktan, you don't know when you developed it, let alone how it really started. You just know that it might have been cute at first – a nice girl from a small clan who has feelings for the older boy next door, but as time went by, it wasn't cute at all; on the contrary, it robs you of precious sleep and will most likely cause you to age prematurely. 
Despite not knowing how and when exactly this crush thing has started, you know that it has gotten worse the more time has passed, and the more time passes, the more failed attempts to get his attention you have behind you. However, there's one event you categorize as time zero - the starting point of your attempts - that you remember vividly: 
You were a mere child and couldn't take your eyes off Neteyam, who was only slightly older than you. Confidently clutching the stem of the rare flower you had been searching for days, you made your way through the lush forest, searching for Neteyam. As you thought about the plan you had concocted, your heart beat rapidly in your chest. You had heard from a reliable source that Neteyam was a lover of rare flora, and you hoped that this gift would make him see you in a different light. 
When you spotted him in the distance, his tall figure was moving gracefully through the trees. Taking a deep breath, you approached him, holding out the flower to him.
"Hey, Neteyam," you said, trying to sound casual. "I found this and I thought you might like it." 
Neteyam stopped in his tracks and turned to look at you, his expression unreadable. You held out the flower a bit higher, hoping to see a glimmer of appreciation in his eyes.
"Thank you," he said simply, slowly taking the flower from your outstretched hand. Looking at the flower now in his hand, the corner of his lips turned upward, causing your heart to flutter.
You told him happily, "It's a very rare flower," beaming a bright smile at him. 
And the next thing you knew, you were holding your breath as he bent slightly forward to your height and patted your head in praise, "It seems you're already a careful gatherer, baby neighbor. Keep it up!"
You felt your heart sink faster than a prey could run when he turned and continued on his way, leaving you standing there alone in the forest. You had hoped that your gesture would be enough to make him see you in a different light, but it seemed that it had made no difference at all, or even worse for he had called you the worst possible nickname to exist in all na'vihood. 
As you made your way back to the village, you couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment and frustration settling in you, the deep frown on your face mirroring your inner world. You had tried so hard to get Neteyam to notice you, but it seemed that he was simply not interested.
How do I make you love me?
After a few cycles and many more failed attempts in between, you realized that your little crush was not so little after all. Especially after Neteyam passed his Iknimaya at such a young age, your admiration for him grew every day. The feeling was almost unbearable as you found yourself constantly near him but not receiving the acknowledgment you wished for.
That was until one day, you decided to change that because your hormonal teenager brain had this glorious idea to spend some alone time with Neteyam. You had observed that he enjoyed hunting during his free time when he wasn't bound by his duties as the Olo'eyktan's firstborn. This is why you eagerly joined him on his next hunt, determined to impress him with your own hunting and tracking skills. Looking back, you now realize that your confidence may have been misplaced for your skills were basically non-existent at that time, but back then you were convinced that you were able to hunt.
So, you followed Neteyam deep into the forest, crouching right beside him in the underbrush, watching the herd of talioang grazing in the distance. Their blue and orange skin glinted in the sunlight, and you could hear the low rumble of their voices as they communicated with each other. 
"Do you thi—" Neteyam's hand swiftly covered your mouth, halting your words before they escaped, his touch gentle yet firm. It was electrifying, sending shivers down your spine. He motioned for you to be quiet and directed your attention towards the herd. As he removed his hand, you couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement in your blood. This was your chance to prove yourself.
Neteyam slowly and silently made his way towards the herd, you right on his track, moving from one piece of cover to another. Your eyes followed every movement of the muscles on his toned back, you felt your heart pounding in your chest, and your palms were slick with sweat. Even though you had never really hunted before, you were determined to succeed but Neteyam's captivating presence proved to be a distraction that made it difficult for you to concentrate on anything else. 
As you got closer to the herd, you could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins. Neteyam signaled for you to stop, and you froze, trying to make yourself as small as possible. He reached out and brushed a twig aside at your feet.
"Watch your steps," he whispered close to your ear, and you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. Your heart raced as you realized how close he was to you, and you wondered if he could hear it pounding in your chest. Longing to feel his lips against your skin, you couldn't help but turn your head slightly towards him, but you knew you couldn't let your desire distract you from the hunt.
"I do," you whispered back. Trying to calm your racing heart, you focused on the task at hand, scanning the ground for anything else that might make noise. But when you moved, you felt Neteyam's body shift slightly against yours, sending another jolt of electricity through you, and you wondered if he felt it too.
"No, you constantly step on something," he told you, still whispering, but voice stern. 
Feeling caught because there was a high possibility that he was right for you hadn't paid attention to your surroundings in the last couple of minutes, too busy doting on him, you couldn't find arguments to defend yourself, "I do not." 
Neteyam firmly pressed his finger on his own lips, signaling you to be quiet yet again. Your heart beat faster as you met his intense gaze, and you felt a rush of desire wash over you.
"Too much noise," he mouthed, his voice barely audible, and looked back at the herd. Following his gaze, you saw that the talioang had picked up on something, and they were starting to look nervous. You and Neteyam held your breaths, waiting for the right moment to strike. 
Suddenly, Neteyam gave the signal, and sprang into action. You just weren't really ready when he gave the signal, so with the first step you took, you stumbled on something growing on the ground and fell over with a short cry. Neteyam who had darted towards the nearest talioang, already drawing his bow and arrow, stopped right in his track when he heard you fall. You looked up at him when he quickly turned to you and then back at the herd but it was too late, the animals already reared up in surprise, and scattered in all directions. However, you were too shocked by your fatal mistake to pay them any attention. You were frozen in place, lying in the dirt, watching Neteyam looking back at you with a slightly agape mouth. The blood rushed to your head and you could hear your heart pounding in your ears. 
You ruined it. 
Neteyam's disappointment was tangible. You could feel his eyes on you, and you knew that he was angry. You would be, too. Struggling to express your remorse, the words got caught in your throat as you attempted to apologize. The weight of disappointment were heavy on your shoulders, and you couldn't shake off the feeling of letting him down.
After a long, awkward silence, Neteyam turned to you with a deep sigh. "You need to be more careful," he said, "When you're hunting, you have to be aware of everything around you. One mistake can ruin the whole hunt."
You nodded, feeling ashamed, you were sure your face was as purple as a yovo fruit. You had wanted to impress Neteyam, but instead you had embarrassed yourself in front of him, had blown any chance to show him that you were capable.
How do I make you fall for me?
Over time, you learned from your previous mistakes. Wanting to impress him proved to be harder than anticipated, but having a conversation with him was easier than expected. You needed to show him how much you appreciated him for who he was. As a result, you began to pay closer attention to the way he interacted with others, especially his younger brother Lo'ak, and you started to incorporate some of those phrases into your conversations with him.
One bright day, you nervously approached Neteyam, hoping to strike up a conversation with him using your newfound knowledge:
"Hey, Neteyam," you greeted tentatively, "Whatcha doin'?"
You left out the bro on purpose, fearing it would be overkill. Even so, the words coming out of your mouth sounded strange to you, and for him apparently too, as he rapidly looked up from his task upon hearing your voice, and his otherwise neutral face looked at you with a slightly frowned forehead and attentive eyes, studying you for a moment before he was quick to collect himself and greeted you with a slight smile.
"Not much. Tuk asked me to repair this old basket for her," he said, motioning with his hands on the basket between his legs, "And I'm trying." 
You nodded, trying not to seem too eager, "That's really kind of you. I bet she'll be thrilled once you finish it," you said with a smile. 
Neteyam simply hummed in response and went back to his task, his concentration returning.
"I mean, I would, too. Tuk is very lucky, it must be nice to have a brother like you," you complimented him.
"But you do have a brother," Neteyam reminded you matter-of-factly, "We used to attend the same training sessions so many times."
"Yeah," you continued, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment. "But, uh, he is not as skilled as you are." Good save. "And he never did such kind things for me when I was little. The only thing he did was teach me how to fight." 
"That's a valuable skill," Neteyam commented.
"Well, what I mean is, he's an ordinary brother, while you are one of a kind, Neteyam. Your siblings are incredibly lucky to have you," you said, emphasizing your point.
Neteyam smiled to himself, his canines slightly showing, as he went back to working on the basket. You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach at the thought of him noticing your flattery.
"I appreciate that," he said, acknowledging your compliment.
After a few minutes of silence, you took a deep breath and you mustered up the courage to ask him a question, "May I say something?"
He looked up at you again and nodded. "Sure, what's on your mind?"
You decided to take the chance, "I just wanted to say that you always seem to know just what to do and say, and that's very impressive. You're responsible, always respectful, and very patient. Not just with me but with everyone in our clan. And I want you to know that I really appreciate it, Neteyam." I appreciate you.
Neteyam's expression softened as he listened to your words. "You have a kind heart to express that," he replied, a hint of a smile still playing at the corner of his lips.
You took a deep breath and continued, "I know you don't share much about your personal life, but if you ever feel comfortable talking about it I would love to learn more about you."
Neteyam's smile reached his eyes. "Thank you, I will keep that in mind."
You felt a warm glow of happiness in your chest as you realized that your words affected him. You were willing to put in the work to get to know him better.
Encouraged by his response, you asked, "So, do you have any concrete plans after your Uniltaron?"
Neteyam's expression faltered a bit upon hearing you mention his upcoming Dream Hunt, he seemed almost reserved all of a sudden. "I do have a few, but they are personal," he replied, "I prefer to keep them to myself."
You felt a pang of disappointment. "Oh, I understand," you said, trying to hide your dejection, "I'm sorry. It was not my place to ask."
"You don't have to apologize," he responded, "But some things are best kept within the family."
"Yeah, I get it," you smiled weakly, feeling like you had hit a wall, "Thanks for talking with me, Neteyam."
He nodded and went back to his task, leaving you feeling deflated and uncertain about how to get closer to him.
How do I make you want me?
The previous attempts to win Neteyam's attention had proven unsuccessful: The gifts you gave him didn't have the desired effect, your attempts to impress him by spending time with him backfired (you want to forget that memory of the hunt so badly), and the conversations you had with him remained superficial, never delving deeper into meaningful topics. It was clear that you needed a new approach, a fresh idea to capture his interest which brought you back to point zero.
You walked through the forest, scanning the undergrowth for any signs of the flowers you had been studying for quite some time – the kind you gifted Neteyam when you were little. It turns out that the rare flower wasn't that rare after all, it only bloomed a short time a cycle, which is what made it so valuable. However, if they were dried and powdered, very useful medicines could be made. At some point you had started collecting this flower, as well as other herbs and plants for Tsahìk, and in return she had taught you how to make rich creams and pastes from them. And you could also consume this flower in meals if you let it cook over the fire for a long time. Pondering if it would evoke nostalgia within Neteyam, while you plucked them carefully from the ground, you wondered if he ever remembered the day you gave him that flower in the first place.
Gathering a variety of edible flowers, aromatic herbs, and other nourishing ingredients from the village, you spent all morning helping the women in your clan prepare a wholesome and delicious meal for the warriors. In anticipation of Neteyam's training session, you decided to take this thoughtful approach to show your support and care.
As the aroma of freshly cooked food filled the air, you volunteered to bring the full basket of handmade food wraps and lovely cut fruits to the training area. 
The warriors were engrossed in their practice, their movements fluid and powerful. You scanned the crowd, searching for Neteyam among them.
Spotting him in the midst of the intense training session, his lean muscles glistening with sweat under the warm sun, you couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration. His movements were powerful and precise, each strike displaying his skill as a warrior. His strength and determination did something to you, feeling a magnetic pull towards him. 
Balancing the basket of food in your hands, you approached the outskirts of the training area, careful not to interrupt the warriors' focus. You set up a blanket and arranged the food on it attractively. Your intention was not only to impress Neteyam but to show your support for the entire group.
"I swear, Eywa send you here," you heard someone say next to you, a bit out of breath, while impatient hands reached into the basket and helped you place the food, "I'm starving!"
"Lo'ak, are you allowed to end your training like this?" You questioned, and turned your head in the direction of the warriors — the training was obviously still in full swing, but it was precisely then that you met Neteyam's gaze who was already looking over at you, a mixture of surprise and curiosity evident in his eyes. 
"Not really but it smells so good, I'm ready to be skinned for these delici— Oh, I'm taking this one, yeah?" He started unwrapping one of the food wraps and hastily bit into it. 
"Hey, wait for the others!" you admonished him, but his wrap was already half eaten.
"Mm, das bom!" you heard him smack loudly, "S'rusly, yur da best."
"I'm glad," you responded, suppressing a laugh. Lo'ak acted like he hadn't eaten in days. 
Noticing the spread of food, the warriors collectively ended the training session, and the men started approaching the nourishing dishes, including freshly grilled meats, vibrant vegetables, and flavorful herbs.
Sensing an opportunity, you went towards Neteyam, a food wrap in your hand, and a warm smile gracing your lips. "I thought I would spare you the long way, in case you're starving like your brother," you joked, gesturing with your head towards Lo'ak behind you, who was taking two more food wraps and calling dips on the rawp.
Neteyam's gaze shifted from the feast you had prepared to the food in his hands and then at you. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary, and a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips. 
"That's thoughtful of you," he replied, his voice carrying a subtle warmth, "It's been an intense training session, and this is a welcome surprise."
You stepped back, allowing him to enjoy the meal with his fellow warriors. Observing from a distance, you noticed the camaraderie and laughter that emerged as they gathered around the spread of food, indulging in the flavors that were carefully crafted.
Throughout the meal, you found yourself drawn to Neteyam's presence. The way he spoke with passion about his experiences, the way he listened attentively to others, and the way his eyes sparkled with a hidden depth — all of it only fueled your growing attraction.
As the training session continued, you lingered nearby, engaging in conversations with other warriors, offering encouragement and companionship. While your initial intention was to impress Neteyam, you found joy in connecting with the community as a whole, so much you almost didn't realize that the day's training had come to an end.
"Thank you for the meal and your company," Neteyam said softly as he walked next to you back to the village, carrying the basket for you with a genuine smile gracing his face. "It meant a lot to all of us."
Your cheeks warmed at his words, "I didn't do much, the others—"
"You are here, that alone is more than enough."
You nodded, a sense of satisfaction washing over you. "I'm glad I could contribute," your voice was filled with sincerity, "Supporting you and the clan is important to me."
A surge of hope welled up inside you, but as the conversation continued, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. Despite your efforts, the romantic tension you had hoped for seemed to elude you. The conversation remained pleasant yet distant, and it became clear that Neteyam saw you more as a friend than a potential partner. With a heavy heart, you realized that your attempt to catch his interest had once again fallen short.
And make it last eternally?
For quite some time now, you have firmly believed that you have left those days behind you, imprisoned in childhood memories, overlapped by numerous teenage embarrassments. After all, now you are an adult with serious duties and commitments to attend to, and there's neither time nor room for such childish infatuations. Crushing on the future Olo'eyktan. Please. Plus, once you found out how many other girls in your clan, both older and younger than you, adored him, you figured it is best to move on. You were frustrated at times, but you resolved to carry on, cherishing the friendship you shared with Neteyam while silently letting go of your unrequited feelings. At least, that's what you thought...
… until three eclipses ago.
Mere moments before the eclipse, the all-too-familiar soft light danced in the room,  casting a golden hue that revealed the tiniest pollen floating around inside Tsahìk's crowded tent. It had been a long time since so many people had been injured at once, yet no one was ready to explain or report what had happened.
As two new figures entered the tent, one of them supporting the other, you heard a familiar voice speaking calmly, "Focus on not getting blood all over grandmother's tent rather than worrying about my wounds."
"Nah, I'm just- Ouch! Careful, bro!"
"Sorry, brother, but you have to cooperate with me here," Neteyam uttered while carefully helping Lo'ak onto the mat made of woven grasses that Kiri had prepared for them with blankets. 
"I'm just saying—Ahh," Lo'ak hissed as Neteyam applied pressure to his open wound with his bare hands, while Kiri hastily tied together any available cloths for his wound care. "-it's not very mighty of you, you know."
"What is not very mighty of him?" Kiri wanted to know, now taking over and applying pressure to his wound as well to stop the bleeding. As you shifted to Kiri's side, you handed her more cloths that she could wrap around Lo'ak's leg.
"His wounds, of course," Lo'ak grinned when he saw you and gave his older brother another amused sideways glance, before continuing, "but I'm sure he will be in great hands now. Right, bro?"
Just a quick glance at Lo'ak was enough to see that he was far worse off than Neteyam. While his wounds did not appear to be life-threatening, he was bleeding profusely from his thigh.
Tsahìk had already rushed to the four of you, throwing a disapproving look at Lo'ak, "Oh, my boy, let me have a look." With her expertise, she quickly got the situation under control, ordering Kiri to get more cloths while you stood by her side to assist her.
"My child, attend to his wounds," Tsahìk instructed you, but to your surprise she nodded towards Neteyam instead of Lo'ak as she pushed a bowl of fresh water into your hands. "My granddaughter and I can handle this young clumsy man here." Her stern gaze was once again fixed on Lo'ak, who, in turn, only grinned at her.
"Grandmother," Neteyam began soothingly, ready to protest, "there is no need to—" but her piercing eyes silenced him, causing him to follow you wordlessly to the other side of the tent.
And that's how you found yourself sitting in front of Neteyam, tending to his wounds with the gentle touch of your hands, caring for each cut and bruise.
"You need to be more careful," you said softly, breaking the comfortable silence as you wrung the cloth in the water that had already turned a muddy reddish color.
"I'm content with the present circumstances," he replied, his voice laced with a touch of amusement. You gave him a sarcastic look, which he reciprocated with a warm smile.
"Well, I suppose then you'll be content with this as well." Pressing the damp cloth into his hand, you stood up and leisurely made your way to Tsahìk's supplies to fetch some healing ointments, and you took your time doing so.
Upon your return, Neteyam watched you attentively, his eyes tracing your every movement, and you wondered if he had been watching you the whole time. There was a newfound curiosity in his gaze, a glimmer of something more. 
"My words came out wrong," he said when you sat back on the ground in front of him. The air was filled with a mix of anticipation and unspoken emotions, a subtle tension hanging between you. "You're right, I should be more careful. I always strive to be. It's just that there's little one can do in the face of an ambush."
"An ambush?" you asked with big eyes, "Oh, Great Mother! That's what everyone's been trying to conceal. And I was wondering the whole time what could've possibly happened to cause so many injuries."
"They probably didn't want to cause an uproar." You listened to his words, sensing the weight they carried. The mention of an ambush brought back memories of past dangers and harrowing encounters. The gravity of their lives was never far from their thoughts, and you understood the weight that rested on Neteyam's shoulders.
"You don't always have to be the strong one, Neteyam," you said softly, voice carrying reassurance, when you continued cleaning the cut on his chest, noticing that he tried not to wince under your touch, "It's alright to lean on others, to let them care for you." 
A flicker of emotion danced across his face, a fleeting moment of vulnerability before he regained his composure. His hand reached out to touch yours resting on his chest above his heart, the contact gentle yet charged with unspoken emotions.
"Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, and in that moment it felt like the boundaries between healer and wounded blurred, "Thank you for being here, for tending to me." His eyes locked with yours, an unspoken promise passing between you, turning your cheeks in a light purply color.
"Now," you cleared your throat with the intention of changing the subject, fervently hoping that he wouldn't notice your flushed cheeks, "here comes the actual healing part."
Gently, you dipped your fingers into the jar of ointment, scooping out a generous amount. With deliberate movements, you applied the soothing balm to his wounds, careful not to cause any further discomfort. The ointment glided smoothly, creating a soothing sensation that seemed to envelop him in a healing embrace.
"What I meant before is that I am glad that you are the one taking care of me," you smiled upon hearing those words, feeling his gaze on you as you concentrated on his upper body. A gentle warmth radiated from his wounds as your fingertips grazed his skin, mingling with the tender touch of your hands. The ointment possessed a subtle fragrance, hinting at the natural remedies it held within.
As you continued to apply the ointment, your fingers delicately tracing the contours of his chest, exploring the intricate landscape of his injuries, a comfortable silence settled between you. The rhythm of your ministrations became a quiet conversation, a wordless understanding of care and compassion. With every gentle caress, a subtle shiver passed through him, a reaction that spoke of both vulnerability and an underlying trust in your touch. There was a closeness in this shared moment, a connection forged through the tender act of healing.
Neteyam's gaze remained fixed on you, his eyes revealing a depth of gratitude and something more profound. It was as if the vulnerability of his wounds had peeled away a layer, exposing a vulnerability of the heart. The strength he embodied as a warrior was softened in this vulnerable space, allowing a snippet into the depths of his mind and soul.
"It never stings when you patch me up, why?" Neteyam asked, his voice laced with wonder, tilting his head slightly.
"The secret is to mix yalnabark with 'omsyul," you replied, your voice gentle yet filled with a hint of playfulness.
"Care to share this secret with my grandmother? And Kiri, too?" Neteyam's request was teasing but also genuine, and you couldn't help but be touched by his thoughtfulness.
"Actually, Kiri is the one who taught me this," you admitted, a fondness in your voice.
Neteyam's forehead furrowed slightly, "Then why does it always burn when she patches me up?"
With a twinkle in your eyes, you playfully suggested, "Sibling love?"
A mischievous smile curved his lips. "Or perhaps your touch is blessed by Eywa?" His words hung in the air, filled with a newfound flirtation that took you by surprise. 
"Oh, come on now, exaggerate much, do you?" you responded, attempting to brush off his words with a hint of irony, not fully realizing the impact they had on you.
Undeterred by your sarcastic retort, Neteyam looked deeply into your eyes, his voice filled with sincerity and a touch of vulnerability. "The caress of your hand weaves a tapestry of enchantment, casting a spell that captivates my very soul."
His words echoed in your mind, resonating with a blend of tender affection and longing. You wished he had said those words when you were younger and so in love with him, meaning every syllable coming from his kissable lips. What you would have given to hear him say it.
A blush spread across your cheeks as you struggled to find the right words to respond. The air around you seemed charged with electricity, the tension between you both palpable.
"You said I should exaggerate," Neteyam added, a witty glint in his eyes, as if to remind you of your earlier banter. 
Your younger self would have etched his previous words into a tree to make them eternal — words you longed to hear from your crush, words that felt like a dream.
"Crush?" he asked with interest, and your eyes widened with the realization that you had spoken your thoughts aloud. "On whom?"
"Um," a jumble of thoughts flooded your mind at once, too late for an excuse, "You?" 
Your confession left him momentarily speechless, and your heart pounded in your chest. 
It's in the past, so it's okay to admit it, you told yourself, trying to calm down a bit.
"You have a crush on me?"
"Had," you corrected quickly.
"You had a crush on me?" he asked again, as if needing confirmation. It seemed to sweep him off his feet, a revelation he hadn't expected.
"Everyone did, everyone does," you confessed, trying to downplay the significance.
"Everyone except you?"
You shrugged, unsure how to answer, "I guess I'm… over it."
"Why?" he inquired.
"Come on, Neteyam," you sighed, trying to mask the bitterness in your voice, "don't act like you didn't know."
"I swear by Eywa this is news to me… I have never…" he hesitated briefly with his words, "It doesn't even make sense."
Make sense?
"Don't make me regret telling you," you said, your voice tinged with frustration, "It's not about making sense, and it's not a big deal either, don't you agree?"
"Yes, but I try to understand."
"What is there to understand?"
"Why would you even crush on me in the first place?"
Oh. 
"You're right," you tightly gripped the cloth, forcing a smile, "why would I."
Even though you reluctantly admitted it, it hurt you and scratched at your ego. You were now more than grateful to have never openly communicated your feelings. As an adult, you could handle it, but you know exactly that this reaction would have devastated your childhood self. You were not accustomed to this insensitivity from Neteyam, considering he always maintained a noble and respectable demeanor. This showed you even more how repulsive the idea of having you by his side was to him.
"Also, I'm sorry," you turned around in a swing, your voice filled with sadness, disappointment, and above all, anger—anger at him for acting like a skxawng and anger at yourself for being a skxawng by confiding in him, "that the thought of me being attracted to you disgusts you so much. It won't happen again, rest your mind."  
He seemed lost for words, blinking once, twice, and opening his mouth only to close it again, processing your words. Part of you yearned for him to say something, to prove you wrong, but nothing came. His gaze lingered on you for a long moment, altering between your eyes, the unspoken words hanging in the air. 
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm needed elsewhere," you said, your voice tinged with resignation. You prepared to turn away, ready to retreat from the turmoil of the moment. But just as you began to pivot, a sudden, gentle grip on your arm stopped you in your tracks. It was Neteyam, his touch both unexpected and tender.
In that instant, conflicting emotions surged within you, caught between the instinct to push him away and the captivating gaze that held your attention. Without uttering a single word, he drew you closer, wrapping you in a tight embrace that left you completely defenseless, your body momentarily frozen in surprise against his bare skin.
Your initial response was to resist, your mind still reeling from the whirlwind of confusion. Yet, as his arms enveloped you, a scent as enchanting as the forest's vibrant essence and the serenity of sacred woods wafted into your consciousness. It was a harmonious blend that stirred your senses, mingling the fragrant allure of nature with the grounding whispers of sandalwood.
Inhaling deeply, the captivating aroma cast a spell upon you, dissolving the remnants of anger and frustration that had once consumed your thoughts like a distant memory as he held you firmly in his strong arms, the warmth of his body seeping into your very core.
In this suspended moment, time appeared to lose its grip as the only audible sounds were the rhythm of your synchronized breaths and the rhythmic beat of your hearts.
"I'm sorry too," you heard him whisper in your hair as he pulled away from you and left the tent, leaving you confused.
It was in that moment, surrounded by the fading light and the soft whispers of the forest outside the tent, that you realized the painful truth: nothing would be the same between you and Neteyam because
no matter what you did, you would never be able to make him love you.
And exactly this is the reason of your sleepless nights, which is why, in the middle of your melancholic nostalgia, you decided to take a little walk to the lake nearby to pass the time until daybreak which leads you to the lake. You currently sit on a mossy tree stump above the shimmering water allowing your feet to hang freely just above the glistening surface of the lake, instead of sleeping safe and sound like the rest of the village. The purples, greens, and yellows of the bioluminescent flora and fauna smile at you but you fail to smile back. Your heart heavy with a mix of emotions and your mind full of questions, you try not to think of more memories, each one feeling like a dagger, piercing your already fragile heart. 
You try to understand, yet it's difficult for you.
After so many failed attempts and moments of acceptance in between, he still manages to confuse you with his mixed signals. The moment, when he hugged you, replays relentlessly in your thoughts as if burned in your mind, a vivid recollection that carries the weight of his proximity, the tempting linger of his scent, and the electric touch that ignited a fierce tension within you. It was an encounter that left an indelible mark, an irresistible dance between desire and restraint, etching itself into the deepest recesses of your longing soul.
You groan into your hands. You want to hate him. So much.
Three eclipses have come and gone since then, way too much time to think between that and the part where you made the decision to distance yourself from Neteyam. This time for real. You wake up earlier than everyone else, dedicating yourself to your work, skipping communal meals and shared gatherings entirely. You complete your tasks and retreat back to your home, like a ghost in the clan, yet living unscathed within your own space, seeking solace in the sanctuary of solitude.
Almost every hour, you find yourself battling with conflicting emotions. On one hand, you long to see him, to be in his presence, and to feel that familiar connection. But on the other hand, you remember his last words and the way he looked at you when he learned about your past feelings. Distance will be best for the both of you. The ache in your heart hasn't subsided, but you know the step is necessary for your own well-being, it's a shield you've built to preserve what little strength remains within you.
Yesterday, your changed behavior was noticed by Tsahik, so she confronted you directly, but she neither questioned you nor expected any form of explanation. Her words still echo in your mind, partly because forgetting the moment will be difficult with the way she looked at you with her kind eyes, as if understanding the depths of your heartache.
"My child," she laid her hand gently on your shoulder, her voice carrying the wisdom of the ages, "Sometimes the tides do not turn in the way we hope but that does not diminish the beauty of the love within your heart. Always remember that Eywa has woven the threads of affection and devotion. Thus, have trust that the stars will align one day, for love, in all its form, is a gift to cherish."
The words resonate deep within your soul, as you sit by the tranquil water, the soft glow of the plants casting an ethereal light around you, a gentle breeze rustles through the verdant foliage. In these moments of isolation, you reflect on the times you've spent with Neteyam, the moments that sparked the flame of attraction within you. You question whether those were genuine or merely figments of your imagination, the doubts swirling in your mind, clouding your judgment and feeding your insecurities. 
The stars above seem to mirror the twinkle in your eyes, a bittersweet reminder of the unfulfilled desire for you can't comprehend why your heart continues to long for him despite your mind trying to move on. Your thoughts are deep in contemplation when—
"Can we talk?" The voice startles you, and you flinch sharply, almost letting out a scream. Your heart pounds heavily in your chest, the fright taking hold of you. Quickly, you turn around, only to see that out of everyone, Neteyam approaches you, his figure blending seamlessly with the natural surroundings.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," a crooked smile forms on his lips.
You look up, meeting his gaze with a guarded expression, unsure of what to expect from this encounter. His presence catches you off guard, causing your heart to skip another beat. The sight of him stirs a mix of emotions within you—longing, uncertainty, fear, but also a flicker of hope.
"You didn't," you lie, your voice tinged with coldness.
He nods his head towards the space beside you, "May I?" 
Neteyam's eyes hold a certain earnestness, a silent plea for understanding. You just shrug your shoulders, and he interprets it as a yes. He takes a seat beside you, his movements graceful and measured, his tail gently swaying in the air, your shoulders and thighs nearly touching. 
The silence between you is tense, charged with unspoken words and residual feelings. You let your feet dangle above the water. As you wiggle your toes, you feel a gentle coolness from the air mingling with the refreshing touch of the water below.
He clears his voice, "I've noticed your absence these past few days."
"Oh?" Your ears perk up with curiosity, surprised that he has noticed, "I was busy."
"You were missing from the meal servings as well," he notes, his words carrying a hint of concern.
"Yeah, I haven't had much of an appetite lately," you reply, sounding detached.
You aren't sure if you have misheard, but it seems like Neteyam has whispered softly to himself, "Me neither," although it can also be your mind playing tricks on you.
"You see, I, uh..." he pauses, seemingly struggling to find the right words which is so unusual for him, "Can I speak openly with you?"
"Don't you always?" Your voice still laced with a hint of coldness.
"Indeed," you noticed from the corner of your eye a brief tension in his hands that gradually relaxes, "I just wanted to let you know that there is no need for you to feel obligated to skip communal gatherings because of me." 
You can't help but scoff at that, however, he remains undeterred by your reaction.
"It's okay if you don't want to see me — I will keep my distance if that is what you want, but, please, don't avoid the clan in an attempt to avoid me. Don't isolate yourself."
"Funny," you say bitterly, your gaze still on the water, "that you think you have that much power over me."
"That's not what I wanted to say, it's—"
"It's fine, Neteyam," you interrupt him, turning your head to him, your jaw clenched, "I get it. If the future Olo'eyktan says so, I'll comply. See you at the morning meal."
You attempt to get up, but he gently grasps your wrist, halting your movement.
"I can sense that something has changed between us, and it weighs heavily on my heart," his voice carries a hint of vulnerability.
"Things change," you respond as he loosens his grip, but you refrain from attempting to get up again, waiting for the conversation to end, "Is there anything else?"
"Yes," he shifts, causing your thighs to briefly brush against each other, "I've had time to reflect on our last conversation."
"Actually, let's not—" you try to interrupt him, but this time he doesn't let your words stop him.
"Let me say this one thing and after that you don't have to talk to me again."
You meet his gaze, which is filled with honesty and a touch of guilt. You nod and look at him, noticing how he rubs his hands on his thighs and takes a deep breath.
"I was caught off guard," he admits, his voice softer now, "When we talked, I mean; and when I learned that you used to feel an affection for me — I didn't handle it well. I'm sorry for the way I reacted and for the pain I may have caused you."
You remain silent for a few seconds remembering the unpleasant conversation from last time, before you speak, "We don't have to talk about it, it's okay."
"No, it's not okay!" You notice the tension in his muscles. "You see," he takes a deep breath, "I didn't understand why you would crush on me."
"You made that very clear," you remark.
"I regret my poor choice of words, and for any offense it may have caused. I immediately noticed that my words had an impact on you, but I was too overwhelmed to correct myself in the moment," he admits, a hint of regret in his voice, "Please know that the idea of you being attracted to me never has and never will disgust me," his eyes lock with yours as his voice gets quieter when he adds, "It scares me."
Upon hearing that, your features soften slightly, a flicker of empathy crossing your face, and the question leaves your mouth before you can think about it, "Why?"
Now he's the one shrugging, "Everyone has their own doubts and fears."
You're not satisfied with that response, and you want him to open up to you for which you are willing to meet him halfway. So you begin an attempt to make him elaborate on his statement, "I'm scared of many things." you watch him intently as you speak, "Accidentally plucking poisonous plants instead of the usual herbs, falling down the hallelujah mountains, being eaten alive by nantangs." And most of all, rejection. "I can't help but wonder what fears could reside within a mighty warrior like yourself."
His mouth twitches slightly upwards when you say that, but is quickly replaced by a neutral expression. "The possibility of someone seeing through my façade," Neteyam admits sighing, his voice laced with a mix of confusion and self-reflection, "Of someone truly knowing me," he holds your gaze, a certain vulnerability in them, "That terrifies me."
You are left speechless, completely caught off guard by his answer.
"But," you stammer, trying to find the right words to express your thoughts, "you're Neteyam, you're... perfect in everything you do. I never considered the possibility that you might have these thoughts."
He shakes his head, disagreeing. "No, definitely not, I am far off from being perfect. That's why I couldn't understand why you would have feelings for me," he confesses, vulnerability shining in his gaze. "Because I never saw myself the way you did. But maybe, just maybe, this is why I've been blind to the possibility of something more between us."
"If you're only here to make me feel better about myself..." you start, your voice trailing off.
"No," he groans in frustration. "That's not it."
"Then what is it?"
He chuckles at your reaction, "I get nervous when you look at me that way."
"What do you mean?" You are the one getting nervous because of his statement for he doesn't look nervous at all, on the contrary, he looks very relaxed and almost overconfident. 
"Yeah, can't you tell my hands are all sweaty?" he lets you know with a smirk while he studies your face.
"Neteyam," you blink in confusion, "Are you okay?"
"You're not listening," he sighs, his smile dropping slightly.
"Then talk openly," you urge impatiently.
He takes a deep breath and looks you directly in the eyes. "I've come to realize that you mean more to me than just a friend."
Your features falter and your eyes widen, as the realization dawns upon you that your feelings have not been unrequited after all. "No."
"I have a crush on you, too," he whispers euphorically, confirming your thoughts.
"No, Neteyam, not now," you shake your head quickly, your mind filled with way too many thoughts and too much confusion. Instantly, you stand up as if stung by an insect, trying to maintain your composure.
"It didn't start now, it was always there," he admits, standing up as well, now towering over you and studying your face and your reaction again. "But I fear that I've missed my chance. And now, it seems like it's too late."
Ignoring his words entirely, you fixate your serious gaze on him, "You can't do this to me."
"What?" he blinks, seeming to comprehend your words, "Why?" his gaze momentarily shifts from one eye to the other with a swift glance, reflecting his confusion.
"Because all my life, I did everything to try to make you notice me. I went beyond my comfort zone, I did everything I could. But from you," You look at him, gesturing towards his entire figure as if the reason were obvious, "there was nothing. Not one single acknowledgment from you. I accepted it. I moved on. I made peace with the thought of just knowing you and supporting what is good for you," You find yourself almost breathless, your words tumbling out rapidly, but each one carries sincere meaning. "You can't come now, years later, and pretend that you have a crush on me. I can't go through that again."
He takes a step forward, clearly taken aback by your outburst. "I... I'm not pretending to—"
"And I'm so tired," you interrupt him, your voice faltering, "Now that I've finally let go of you, you can't say things like this."
"Let go?" he repeats, his voice filled with disbelief, "Of me?"
"Yes, Neteyam," you persist firmly. "Let go of you. I don't want you anymore."
The night air feels heavy with unspoken regrets and unfulfilled desires as the silence underlines the shared acknowledgment of the chasm that has opened between you. Neteyam's expression shifts from disappointment to determination, a flicker of hope dancing in his eyes. "How do I make you love me, then?"
It feels ironic that he's asking you that question, considering you used to be the one who always wondered how you could make him love you whenever you saw him. You groan in frustration, feeling overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. 
"I worked so hard to accept things as they are. That is not fair, Neteyam." A mix of sadness and anger can be heard in your voice.
"Please listen," he pleads, reaching out to touch your arm. You close your eyes, turning your head away. "I've been blind to your feelings, consumed by my own worries and obligations, and I didn't see what was right in front of me, hurting you in the process. I'm sorry I caused you pain. If I had known sooner…"
"What then?" you interrupt, your voice filled with bitterness. "Do you think everything would magically change, and we'd be deeply in love with a family of our own by now?"
Neteyam pauses for a moment, processing your words, and a hopeful smile crosses his face. "Yes, that's a possibility."
You groan in exasperation and attempt to push him away, your frustration boiling over. "No, Neteyam. I can't keep living in this cycle of uncertainty." 
As you push him away from you, your heart heavy, you walk away with determined steps, wanting to bring as much distance between him and you as possible.
"I love you!" he shouts after you, causing you to freeze in your tracks and turn around in utter shock. "I love you. And if that's not enough, then so be it. But I would rather be damned than let you go now, heading who knows where in the middle of the night. If you don't want me, I won't approach you, I won't come near. But don't run away from me."
Desperation visible in his voice, his words reach deep into your heart; the intensity echoing in the air, leaving a profound impact on both of you.
"I've been waiting for your love for far too long," you respond bitterly.
Taking cautious steps in your direction, trying to close the physical and emotional distance between you, he asks, "Why waste more time?" It feels as if an invisible force draws you together, intertwining your fates in this pivotal moment but you remain stubborn, too exhausted and clouded from the painful burn in your heart.
"I don't want you," you declare, the words slipping out uncertainly, as if trying to convince both him and yourself.
"Then look me in the eyes when you say those words," he challenges, his voice stern, gaze unwavering.
"I don't want you," you repeat, louder this time, trying to emphasize your resolve. However, instead of looking into his eyes, your gaze fixates on his face, tracing the patterns of his glowing freckles that your mind has memorized long ago.
The moonlight bathes the scene in a gentle gleam, and you both stare at each other in complete silence, the space between you filled with suffocating tension.
A knowing smile suddenly forms on his lips. "I don't believe you."
"I don't want you, Neteyam!" you exclaim, raising your voice even more, repeating the words over and over, in a desperate attempt to convince him, "I don't want you, I don't want you, I don't want you!"
He studies you intently for another moment, his eyes filled with hope.
"Your tail gives you away," he says triumphantly, his smile growing. And that's when you finally let go of your suppressed emotions. Your lower lip begins to tremble, and before you know it, you find yourself in his warm embrace, his strong arms pulling you impossibly closer to him.
"I want you," you confessed against his chest, your voice barely audible and filled with so much vulnerability, "After everything, I still want you." 
"Shh, you have me," he whispers, his voice soothing and reassuring.
You sob, the weight of your emotions finally breaking free, and he tenderly pats your head, his fingers gliding through your hair. His touch brings a sense of calmness to your racing heart and gently dries your tears.
"I'll make up for all the time lost, I promise," his voice reaches your ear, soft and full of sincerity.
His words continue to soothe you, and at one point, he hums a faint melody that resonates deep within you, gradually bringing an end to your sobs.
"Do you recall the day you asked about my plans after my Dream Hunt, and I hesitated to provide an answer?" He asks after you calm down, his voice carrying an infinite sense of solace.
Your arms still around him, you nod against his chest, every word of that conversation etched into your mind.
"That day," he continues, "I have sworn to myself to admire your eternal beauty from afar, to cherish your body, mind, and soul until the end of my days," he whispers softly in your hair, "with the hope that one day I will hold you close and claim you as my very own."
You take a deep breath, feeling overwhelmed by his words and the emotions swirling within you. Slowly, you lift your head from his chest, your teary eyes meeting his with awe.
"I... I never imagined you felt this way," you whisper, your voice hoarse and fragile from your sobs. "To think that you've carried these feelings for me all this time, it's... I don't know what to say."
"Interesting," he comments, eyes with a gleam, lips playful, "You were just as oblivious to my feelings as I was to yours, so I guess that makes us even." A mischievous bunny-like smile plays across his face, transforming him into the youthful version of himself that you have fallen deeply in love with, no longer the mighty warrior following in the footsteps of the great Toruk Makto, but the young man who has captured your heart long ago.
You can feel tears welling up in your eyes again, overwhelmed by the weight of his words and the intensity of your own emotions. With a shaky breath, you reach to your waist, gently intertwining your fingers with his.
In the warmth of his arms, you find solace for your burning heart. His arms hold you tightly, offering a sense of intimate security that you've always wished for. But then, something shifts. 
The intensity of your emotions begins to wane, and as you look up at him through tear-filled eyes, you see his gaze fixed upon you with unwavering love, trying to read you as he cups your face with his large hands. His thumb gently brushes away a lingering tear on your cheek, his touch delicate against your skin. A soft, affectionate smile graces his lips as he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss against the place where your tear was mere seconds ago. The sweetness of the gesture stirs your heart, a silent affirmation of his loving nature. He continues to kiss away your tears, each touch a soothing balm to your wounded soul.
A powerful desire burns between you then, as his soft lips linger near yours. His eyes meet yours again, seeking permission, and you respond with a silent nod. Right then and there, the world around you fades into the background, and all that matters is the connection you share. With a surge of passion, his lips meet yours in a fervent kiss, the longing coming to an end, hearts intertwined. 
The tender touch of his lips against yours feels like an electric jolt that sends shivers down your spine. You both pull back slowly from the passionate kiss, breathless yet connected. Your eyes meet, gazing into each other with a depth of love that words can never describe.
His eyes hold unwavering sincerity as he caresses your cheek with his thumb. "You've captured my heart in ways I can't fully express," he confesses, his voice filled with affection. "And if you'll allow me, I want to show you every day how deeply I love you."
A deep blue blush tints your cheeks as you struggle to find the right words to respond. He doesn't seem to mind as a soft smile spreads across his face. He leans in, his forehead resting against yours, adoring the tranquil moment between two souls.
Enjoying each other's presence and your newfound attraction and happiness, you spend the rest of the night hand in hand wandering around mindlessly, exchanging loving gazes, talking about everything and sweet nothing's at once like two fools in love.
"Do you remember that day?" You hear him ask cheerfully as his free hand wanders to the songcord attached to his loincloth. You follow his movement and your eyes widen as you recognize the dried petals, intricately woven into one of the beads. "It was so unconventional, going against tradition. Who has ever seen a girl giving a flower to a boy? No one. But you didn't care. You were true to yourself, and you gifted me your favorite flower, and it meant so much more than just a little gesture."
Taking aback by his words and the bittersweet memory you can't help but smile widely as you inspect his songcord but confusion grazes your face at the same time.
"Wait—What do you mean? Lo'ak told me it's your favorite flower."
"No, he told me it's your favorite."
"Well, it became my favorite after I learned that it's yours."
A boisterous laugh escapes him as he throws his head back, his chest almost vibrating, and it is so contagious that you can't help but join in, the air filled with heartfelt laughter.
"It's gonna cause quite a scandal, but Lo'ak definitely deserves a good punch when he wakes up." You laughed, knowing that he meant that half-heartedly.
He delicately cradles your hand back in his, your fingers intertwining as he brings them up, his lips softly brushing against your knuckles in a loving kiss. The touch sends a warmth through your body. 
"Speaking of scandals," you say sheepishly as you reluctantly let go of his hand, "maybe it's better not to enter our village hand in hand just yet?"
He chuckles at your suggestion.
"Maybe," he agrees, his eyes filled with adoration, his face leaning slightly forward, "Can I have one last kiss before that?"
You look at him challengingly, he mirrors your expression, a playful glint in his eyes, coming closer to your face. 
Your lips almost touching for the second time this night, you whisper, "Only if you catch me." 
With that, you run off, your heart blooming with excitement, and his laughter follows you through the enchanting forest as the sun rises, casting its warm rays across the sky, and you know that the future holds nothing but love for the both of you.
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for anyone asking, neteyam does in fact catch you and gets his kiss(es) <3 thank you for reading, liking, commenting, reblogging 🤍 btw, what is your love language? 💕
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tocomplainfriend · 4 months
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Hey, hear this!
I'm not black and don't know that much about voodou. There are lots of people ready to talk and explain their concerns about their representation in HH. Please hear them! (the amount of disrespect done by a bunch of non-black people upon the topic is disgusting!)
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The demonizing and villainizing of this religion has existed since the time of slavery. Using this symbols and closed religion to make a character more "edgy demon evil" is awful. This was Viv doing exactly. I do not believe Al was even supposed to be black/mixed until Viv got told about the use of the religion she was using. All of her main black characters have 0 features. They are just black to profit of "diversity" while she makes no effort to show it or be respectful.
To the people being like, "Aren't you also mad about her representing Christianity wrong???" Based on the fact of how she has talked about Christian people before... YES (I have a whole post about worrying it). But the point brought up is about a religion that's under discrimination based on racism and colonizer mindsets. About a problem that existed when slavery started. Viv is not making a critique or tribute of Voodou she is just using it to make Alastor seem "COOL AND EDGY".
I also do worry of the point she is trying to make about Christianity and believing in it. Specially cause that means her story about heaven and hell could be the blandest immature criticism someone could make. -and sell more people into the idea of "all believers of Christianity are bad people". Which I still hope, it doesn't happen directly in the show. Btw, I'm not Christian! I'm queer and have faced a lot of discrimination that a lot of people justified in their Christianism, I know the level of frustration people feel relating to that. But I have grown to realize, not every person that believes in God and Christ is a bad person. And that I don't get to throw all of those people under the umbrella of "bad" because of how I have been treated.
BTW, this person got blocked by Viv:
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ALSO, THIS IS STUPID!
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You are crazy to say this. They are many criticisms of Disney, specially this movie. You just didn't see it and decided to tweet this without even thinking of searching for this? Like, have you never heard of people complaining about how Tiana as the first black princess becoming a fucking frog for most of the movie.
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Dr. Facilier is a demonization of voodou! Also, Mama Odie is the "Good magic" but realize how she doesn't use the symbols or African masks. But only the bad magic, has it? Most of the representation of the religion is Facilier too, and it's wrongly represented.
youtube
EDIT:
NAHHHH. GIRL
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lewisvinga · 6 months
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new date | lando norris x fem!reader / x daughter
summary: due to low staff at work, y/n isn’t able to make it to an important gala with lando. that just means it’s up to him to find a new date and luckily, he has the perfect girl in mind.
warnings; hmm reader is mentioned to be a healthcare worker , idk what other warning
notes; girl dad lando! girl dad lando! girl dad lando!
masterlist !
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As much as y/n loved to work in the hospital and help her patients, she also loved going attending galas with Lando, her husband. So, she was blown when she couldn’t go to a grand gala for the Formula One drivers due to a worker shortage in the pediatrics section of the hospital.
She wasn’t the only one upset.
Lando loved being able to show you off. He loved to show off his wife, his wife who helps people for a living. But when you broke the news that you couldn’t attend and jokingly told him to ‘find another date’, he already had someone special in mind.
His focus went to the curly haired one ( and a half ) year old girl sitting beside him on the couch. She was an exact copy of Lando, only having your nose. Her laugh, eyes, mouth, and even her curls was just like her father. If he couldn’t bring his wife, why not bring the mini version of himself?
Y/n didn’t believe him when he wanted to bring their 18 month old Evie to the gala. She thought he was joking and bursted into laughter which immediately stopped when he ran to Evie’s room.
She couldn’t help but sigh and follow him. When she stepped into the room, she didn’t expect him to be searching through Evie’s closet. “Love, what are you doing?” Y/n questions with a chuckle.
“Finding an outfit for Evie, duh.” Lando replies like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He pulls out a lilac dress. He frowns and quickly puts it back. “What should Evie wear…” He mumbles to himself.
“What team do you drive for?”
Lando turns around with a confused expression on his face. “You’re telling me after 4 years you don’t know what-“ He pauses when noticing her amused smile. He finally realized what she was trying to say. “I should dress her in orange!”
“Bingo.”
A week later right before it was time for the gala, you received a selfie taken by Lando of course with Evie next to him. She wore a white dress with orange floral print and a matching orange sweater. He even styled her brown curls into two little ponytails at the top with orange bows.
Lando was ecstatic to show his daughter to everyone. It was a special day for him and for little Evie, even if she had no idea what was going on. The moment he stepped on the red carpet with Evie in one arm and a baby bag in the other, the cameras went crazy.
He half expected her to shy away from the cameras but she’s as extroverted as her father. Evie smiled widely at the cameras and even signaled Lando that she wanted to be put down.
She immediately posed for the cameras. Remembering the past times of Y/n taking pictures of her. Although she was only a year and a half, she acted with confidence and spun around for the cameras.
Evie seemed so comfortable in the spotlight that Lando was taken aback, but nonetheless, he bursted into laughter. Once she felt like she was done posing, she went to her father to take a couple pictures with him.
At the end of the carpet, little Evie saw the familiar face is Lissie who watches her with a wide smile.
“Is that the Evie Norris?” Lissie exclaims as Lando walks up to her. She bends down to gently pinch the baby’s cheek.
“She’s my date tonight.” The McLaren driver says with a proud smile, picking her up in his arms. Evie leans her head against his shoulder.
Lissie lets out a chuckle and asks, “No Y/n? Well, I’m glad to have this munchkin!”
“Ah, you know, work got her busy but she’s savin’ people so I’m proud of her.”
Lissie proceeded to ask him a couple of questions in relation to the gala and upcoming events. By the time Lando answered the last question, she notices how Evie was patiently waiting.
“So, Evie,” She says, her smile turning wider as the one year old immediately leaned up. “Who dressed you?” She asks, holding the microphone close to her.
“Mama.”
Lando lets out a dramatic gasp which made his daughter burst into fits of giggles. Even Y/n, who was watching the live stream during her break, bursted into laughter.
“Evie Abigail Norris!” He gasps, “It’s not good to lie! Tell everyone who really dressed you.”
Evie lets out a squeal into the microphone before admitting, “Papa!” She exclaims. She points to the orange flower and mumbles, “Papaya. McLaren.”
Lando wore the proudest smile on his face as he hears the mumbles of his daughter. She was his pride and joy. Her voice, despite only being one, was so much like his. Her laugh was exactly his. Everything about her was exactly like him and he loved it.
Lissie couldn’t hold back her laugh as Evie continued to repeat her words. “Well, princess Evie, Lando, I hope you both have a wonderful night. Not too many sweets for the little one, eh?”
“Trust me, if I gave her sweets, Mom would be upset.” Lando replies with a smile. “Say ‘bye’ to Lissie.” He says to his daughter. Evie immediately waved at Lissie and mumbles a ‘goodbye’ before Lando excuses himself.
Evie lays her head against Lando’s shoulder as they made their way into the venue. He pressed a kiss on her messy curls before gently resting his cheek against hers. “We’re gonna have so much fun tonight, aren’t we Evie.”
In response, she wraps her arms as much as she could around Lando to press a kiss on his cheek. “Fun. Fun.” She mumbles, already seemingly tired.
“I love you, my sweet girl.”
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bedoballoons · 6 months
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Fontaine, Sumeru , Inazuma boys + Zhongli and Xiao with a GN! Darling that has Newts Briefcase from fantastic beasts
Your blog looks beautiful btw
Awwe thank you so much!! <3 I hope you enjoy!
─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃
{༻~Reader with a briefcase like Newts~༺}
CW: Fluffy and magical! (Pet names: Lyney: Mon amour)
(Includes: Lyney, Zhongli, Tighnari, Heizou, and Xiao!)
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
𑁍༄Lyney:
Lyney obviously didn't know every magic trick in Teyvat, that would be almost impossible, but he did know quite a few of them and he could usually figure out how others were done fairly quickly, but how your suitcase managed to hold a whole boar, crystalflies of every element, and tens more animals, some of which he'd never seen before, was beyond anything even he could imagine.
You'd left him speechless, mouth agape as he stared at you in awe, "Mon amour, how is this possible? How are you doing that?" You blushed slightly, seeing the way his eyes shun like that of child's when they see something magic for the first time, "I can't tell, it's a secret, but you're welcome to use it for one of your shows, just make sure to feed the scorpions, they get angry otherwise and they aren't very nice when they're angry."
𑁍༄Zhongli:
Zhongli stared at your happy face, your arms extended outwards, being used as a perch for at least 10 exotic birds...all of which had appeared from your suitcase. Originally he had assumed this was only possible because the work of an adepti, but upon closer inspection he saw no signs of adeptal power, infact it seemed completely foreign to him...which only made him more curious.
"You say it can hold as many animals as the forests of Liyue? That's certainly a incredible feat...may I asked how you've acquired such a unique and interesting treasure?" He smiled slightly at you, hoping you'd clear up the mysterious nature behind the briefcase, but you simply chuckled, "One day I'll tell you, but for now it would be far more fun to keep it a secret~"
𑁍༄Tighnari:
Tighnari was sitting in front of your suitcase with his eyes glued to it like at any moment it could actually explode, not because it was somehow holding more animals than he even knew of, but from the sheer amount power such a item would have to have. In all of his days of studying at the akademiya and traveling to other lands in search of new plant varieties, he'd never seen anything like it. "Does it contains exotic plants as well? Do each of the animals have their own ecosystems? If you shut the suitcase for to long does the oxygen run out or does the suit case somehow supply oxygen? Have you ever tried to go in the suit case?"
Your eyes widened at his many questions, more and more spilling from his lips before he could stop himself...frazzling you slightly. You hadn't expected him to get so excited about it, but even with his never ending questions, it was absolutely adorable to see him this way. It was like he'd found a miracle and he wanted to learn everything about it with you.
𑁍༄Heizou:
Heizou stuck his head into your suitcase, trying to find clues as to how it worked, but the detective was more than just stumped, he was simply baffled as to how something like it could even exist. "You weren't joking when you said you wanted to show me something beyond my imagination. I've seen Onis with horns fight beetles and gods who can make the air actually buzz with emotion, but I don't think I've ever seen anything that has come close to the mystery behind this. Do you think you could live in it?"
"I suppose you could, but I'm not exactly sure. You could be the test subject if you'd like." You winked at him teasingly and he smiled up at you, almost like he was actually considering it for moment, "I think I prefer the scenery in the outside world, but we could always take a romantic vacation together inside the suitcase~" Your cheeks turned a scarlett red as he giggled at you quietly, if you teased him, it was only fair he teased back.
𑁍༄Xiao:
Xiao kneeled down, softly scratching the underside of a mora weasels chin, unbothered by the fact the animal had just run out of your suitcase along side a fairly massive boar. You actually seemed more surprised by his reaction than he did of your suitcase, "So what do you think hmm?"
"I think,...it reminds of the teapots us adepti sometimes use. They appear normal on the outside, but on the inside it's a island specifically designed with our comfort in mind, I've never seen a suitcase version before though.." His eyes met yours and your heart skipped a beat, you responded without even thinking and it flustered you to no end, "Do you have a teapot? May I see it if you do?"
"...I...don't have one, maybe, one day...we can make one together?"
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
◥(•̀₩•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧
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