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wyvernest · 7 months

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hands on you

pairing: miguel o'hara xf!reader

warnings: perv!miguel, miguel being extra handsy, smut, groping (consensual), established relationship, teasing, pda, public teasing, alcoholic beverages?

summary: miguel can't take his hands off of you in the club

Miguel knew you liked him being overly affectionate in public, just to show everyone how deeply in love with him you are. So deeply, that you couldn't gather one single fuck to give about what others thought.

Sure, there were lines neither of you would ever cross. But there was something so delicious about taking risks that had you more intoxicated than 5 mojitos.

This is why you now find yourself rummaging through your closet, looking for something downright obscene. Something so inviting that would make it hard for Miguel to keep his hands to himself for the whole night.

The two of you had arranged to go clubbing for the first time in what felt like a century. Since both of you preferred 1 on 1 alone time, it was a rarity that one would voice the desire to break out of the usual, intimate, comforting routine.

But this time, you want something filthy. Not soft or private. Something that would bring him to the very brink of despair for being so close, yet so far from it.

"¿Estas lista?" (Are you ready?) You hear the bathroom door open as Miguel steps out into the doorway, a towel around his hips and another in his hands as he aggressively attempts to partially dry his dripping wet hair.

You almost start drooling looking at him in the closet door mirror. This is gonna be fun.

"I'm still thinking." You replied, absentmindedly. Oh how you wish you could just ditch the plans, forget about going out and spend the rest of the evening on his dick. To just give him a familiar shove and watch him lay down on the soft bed, hands roaming your body as you climbed on top of him-

No. You have to stick with the plan. Just for once.

As he blow-dries his hair, you snatch the top and skirt you picked and run downstairs, not wanting him to see you before you get to your destination.

But how you wish you could stay in the bedroom and watch his back muscles flex as he pulls that black shirt over his head, how he looks in the mirror as he fixes his hair. His mere presence made you wet.

You snap out of your reverie, swiftly changing and covering yourself with a nice beige coat. Just as you were done with the last touches in the hallway mirror, Miguel stepped down the stairs.

The black shirt slightly stretches over his muscles, giving you a clear view of his pecs and the outlines of his hard abs. He's sporting beige pants, and you wonder just for a second how obvious a boner would be underneath the thin, creamy material.

The drive to the club is flooded with knowing looks and flirty comments, which again make it hard for you not to abandon ship and fuck him in the driver's seat, pulled over on a nice, dark alley.

"I know what you're doing."

"What?" You inquire, faking innocent shock.

He gestures towards your coat, his eyes darting from yours to the clothing item and back to the road.

"I just want to surprise you." You defend yourself, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, brushing a few hair strands behind his ear. You lean into him, placing a tender kiss on his cheek.

You arrive at the club, discarding the coat to leave it in the car. He almost forgets to lock the doors the moment he sees you. Plushy breasts pushed together and nearly spilling out of a skin tight top, ass peeking out from underneath a skirt too short.

"Carajo." (Fuck.) He rasps, before sprinting over to you, wanting to shield you from wandering eyes. Any doubts that it might've been too much are washed away the second you're hit with the realisation that Miguel's hands are going to be on you for the whole night. Either protectively or for other reasons, you couldn't bring yourself to care that much.

As you walk in, you remain glued to him. body to body. Even as you dance, you move against him, soft tits squished on his chest, hands wandering over his shoulders and his neck.

His own hands are anchored on your waist, his fingers digging into your delicate skin.

Glazed over eyes, pretty mouth agape, lips painted in gloss; they're too much for him. He leans into your touch, kissing you messily. It's all tongue and hot puffs of heaved breaths, desperate and painfully needy.

Seizing the opportunity, you inhaled softly and slowly, feeling the scent of him, cologne mixed with his distinctive musk that has your brain melting into nothing but the thought of irrevocably being his.

Suddenly, a straying hand travels down your body, from the dip of your waist and over your hip, settling on the tender flesh of your ass, his fingertips skin to skin on you, thanks to the shortness of the flimsy skirt.

He pulls you against him, trapping you with the other hand splayed out on your back. You feel your heart rate pick up speed.

His one-day stubble scratches your silky cheeks, almost an invasion. Almost disrespectful to the extensive skin care routine you have and religiously stick to, but that's what you like most about it. No matter how much time you spend on yourself, he always ruins you. Your makeup, your clothes, covering your freshly-carefully-lotioned body in hickies and marks. Simply because you're his.

The palm on your ass squeezes and kneads over the feverish skin, the skirt hiking up in the process as he exposes your thin, lace thongs.

You moan in faux protest, looking up at him and breaking away from the suffocating kiss.

"¿Que pasó, muñeca?" (What happened, doll?). He continues to squeeze, the feeling of his big, rough hand rubbing the plumpness of your ass starts to pool raw need between your legs.

"You don't like me touching you like this?" He speaks into your ear, eyes half lidded and predatory. "Isn't that what you dressed up like this for, hm?"

The bastard.

You take one fraction of a second to look around, taking note that nobody was watching, apart from a few guys who either enjoy the show or are patiently waiting for Miguel to leave you alone for just a minute.

Not gonna happen.

"Dime." (Tell me.) He steals your attention, his embrace almost lifting you off the ground just to hold you whole against him.

You mouth 'Yes', knowing you can't trust your shaky voice to speak louder for him to hear over the music.

The dancing area is getting increasingly crowded as the night seeps deeper into the city, so you two move towards the bar. He sits on one of the chairs, patting his leg for you. You place yourself on his thigh as he manspreads to give you more space, curling a strong arm around your waist.

You feel the fabric of his beige pants come into contact with your panties, your skirt too short to cover your ass, let alone allow you to sit without having it slide up. You close your legs tightly, seeking a bit more privacy from the public eye.

Trying not to slip from your seat, you attempt to brace yourself on your palms; one hand on his knee, pushing your back into him, and one on-

Fuck.

Your other palm accidentally lands on his crotch, your fingers grazing his half hard cock. Before you can take your hand away and hide your flushed face, he grabs your wrist and keeps it there.

The bartender is making cocktails at the opposite end of the counter, so no one can see what's actually going on. He starts guiding your hand to rub him up and down, a content sigh leaving him. You could swear your own face is very telling by now.

You cup him through the material, feeling the familiar girth of his cock fatten at your attention. He's getting warmer, and so are you.

Before he can start drifting into pleasure, the bartender runs to him, waiting for the order. Miguel asks for a beer, frustrated at the loss of contact, your hands now on the marble counter.

More people gather around the bar, and as his request gets temporarily forgotten amidst the others, he relishes in the re-obtained semi privacy.

"¿Estás bien, muñequita?" He asks, a hint of concern plastered on his face at the sight of your flushed face.

"Don't worry. I'll tell you if I'm uncomfortable." You reassure, feeling bolder.

He smirks, looking around, checking. He feels like a horny teen-ager who has no other choice but to try to explore and test the waters in public. But in reality, he knew exactly what he was doing.

He turns to you, placing a kiss dangerously close to the top of your right breast, teasing. Before you can look down through your hazy vision, he glides a warm palm between your legs, past your skirt, two fingers fitting in the valley of your soft pussy.

You restrain yourself from gasping, instead seeking to hide your face in the crook of his neck. He moves his hand over the mound, flicking your clit through your panties. He can undoubtedly feel how wet you are as he so obscenely cups your cunt. You feel the heat of his palm on you, so comforting in such a filthy way; like that's where it belongs.

Looking down, you're met with the sight of his veined burly arm, muscles flexing as he plays with you, his wrist barely visible underneath your skirt. You clench around nothing, and his motions quicken with expert ease, a clear sign he felt you.

You're left infuriatingly needy for more when he retracts his hand as if nothing happened, the bartender bringing him his beer. You give him a pissed look, and he smiles as he brings the bottle to his mouth.

Smiling, like, what's wrong?

You move to threateningly leave from your seat on his lap, but he follows as expected. He can't lose sight of you.

Walking just a bit further into the crowd, you take his hand behind you. Swaying your hips and undulating your body to the music, you feel the beat through your veins, in your chest, in your head. He comes up behind you, his rhythm in sync with your movements.

Brushing your hair out of the way from behind, he slowly bends down to lick and kiss at the sensitive skin on the side of your neck, raising goosebumps over your skin. You don't know how much longer you'll stay here, seeing how clingy and needy Miguel has gotten.

You feel your pulse throbbing in your neck and through your lust-hazed mind at the stimulation.

"Feel how fast my heart's beating." You take his hand, placing it where your heart would be. He brings the beer bottle to his mouth, drinking nonchalantly as his palm instantly dips into your cleavage, cupping your left breast. You stiffen, once again surprised.

"Yeah." He confirms, as if he didn't just start groping you to feel your heartbeat. "Pretty fast."

He is well aware of how worked up you get simply because of this attitude. He leaves the bottle on a nearby glass table, now both his hands on your boobs, nearly taking them out of your top to play with them. He looks wrecked, absolutely drunk on need.

One of his arms soon curls around your waist and back, pulling you close into him, the other hand still fondling your chest. You arch your back, pushing yourself impossibly closer into his touch, seeking the warmth of his palm.

Wanting to drive him completely mad, you turn around, your back to him, and start grinding your plushy ass over his groin. He grips your hips, guiding you, not hesitating to let his hands wonder back to your tits, squeezing them under the elastic material of your shirt while you're rubbing yourself on his painful erection.

You can now see people staring, especially at the way he touches you. Arching backwards, you curl your arms around his neck, your chest pushed forward and so much more accessible. His palms are now hot on your soft breasts, craving more. Fondling with fervent need.

The music and the people are drowned out, muffled into the very back of your headspace. He leans down, his mouth to your ear.

"Let's get out of here."

divider by @cafekitsune

a/n: tried to make it as non problematic and as filthy as possible at the same time goddamn

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dcxdpdabbles · 2 months

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DPxDC fanfic idea: The Back Roads

Bruce was driving around as his civilian self one late afternoon. The sun was barely setting, though one wouldn't be able to tell with all the smot.

He was planning on surprising his children with a spontaneous pizza party and some good family-friendly competition. He was excited.

Maybe it was because he was checking on the pile of pizza in the back, or maybe he was more tired than usual from his long nights as Batman, but whatever the case was he did not see the boy until he hit him.

Bruce swears the boy appears out of nowhere like a ghost. One moment, there was a long road with nothing but trees and his softy playing radio.

Bruce has always loved the long secluded roads that lead to his Manor. It always gave him peace of mind to enjoy a drive without anything or anyone around. Rarely did he ever encounter another driver out here - not since the Drakes moved out.

That's why someone standing in the middle of the road had come so unexpectedly. Bruce hadn't even noticed him until his headlights saw a brief flash of blue eyes just as it was too late.

The boy slammed against his hood, flying into the windshield and sliding off to the side. There was a terrible gagging sound, likely the boy checking on his blood as slid away to the ground.

Bruce slammed his brakes, sitting frozen behind the steering wheel. For a moment, all he could do was sit there in horror, wondering if it was true. Then reality crashes in, and he pushes the car door open, falling out in hysteria.

There on the ground is a boy that could be fourteen crumbled. A boy with dark black hair and - if the wide eye stare before the hit was any indication - blue eyes. He looks a lot like his sons.

Bruce feels sick.

Desperately, he rings up an ambulance, chocking on tears as he tells the dispatcher what happened. Bruce, meanwhile, does his best to check the boy over with his training.

He slowly turns him over, pressing his fingers on the neck as gentle as possible. There is a cold moment before he feels a aodt flutter against hia finger tips.

A heart beat but one that was slowing by the second.

Bruce tells the dispatcher this, who in turns tells him as soothing as possible that help is on the way, but Bruce knows the boy doesn't have enough time.

With shaking fingers, he presses the Bat Distress signal. His children are only ten minutes away in vehicles that can get to the hospital in thirty minutes. The ambulance will arrive in that same amount of time.

"It's going to be okay" He tells the still boy. "You're going to be okay. Please. Please. Be okay"

Nightwing pulls up then in the Batmobile with Robin in the passage seat. Red Robin, Spoiler and Red Hood are not far behind on thier bikes.

They all stop for a few seconds, unsure what to do, before Nightwing shakes himself out of it. "Mr. Wayne we got it from here"

Bruce is only half aware of Damian taking his hand and moving him away as Tim and Dick get the boy into the Batmobile. They speed away to the hospital.

What a terrible night for Alfred to be out.

Later, the cops speak to Bruce and use the dash cam to confirm that the boy really did appear out of nowhere. He's a meta, they say. Likely one that just got his powers.

Teleportation. Or Invisibility.

They weren't sure, but they would figure it out. They told Bruce he was free to go, and there was no need for Bruce Wayne to know further of the case.

Batman, however, was back there that night. He was outraged to find out the boy had been flagged for his meta genes, and some nurse low on cash knew there was a market for meta children.

She was attempting to move the unconscious youth through false discharge papers when Bruce landed on the hood of the car of her associates. They were quickly dealt with, turned over to the police-the good ones- and Batman had made arrangements for the boy to be taken in by Bruce Wayne himself until he awoke.

While that was happening, the attempts to locate the youth's family yielded results. He wasn't in the system himself, but he did match to a brother that was.

A week later, Danny Fenton opens his eyes from the best nap he's had in years, only to find out he was run over while in a ghost version of hibernation and in a different world.

Oh, and apparently, he is being confused as a twin brother of some guy named Tim Drake.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Danny dimension jumped while sleep walking #He is fine #confused by the twin and new rich himbo dad #Bruce is not having a good day

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itbeleeeee · 1 year

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Just finished A Crown Of Candy, and boy howdy, was that a very sweet (pun intended) ending. I’m definitely feeling a lot of feelings, and honestly this season was the most narratively satisfying than the other ones I’ve seen, I liked all of the arcs and did cry on multiple occasions, so this one while being very emotionally draining was also emotionally satisfying. Liam putting down his revenge and being a seed guy again, Ruby---while still going through grief---finding space in her heart for Saccharina, Amethar owning up to being a dad, Theo finally putting himself first, Saccharina letting herself be vulnerable, Cumulous finally getting those towels, Lapin doing his job to the very end, they were all wonderful arcs and resolutions and while revisiting this world would be cool, I’m more on the side of leaving it where it is with this nice little bow on the top. Brennan, the Heroes, and everyone in the crew did such an amazing job on this season, all of the work and the writing paid off 1000%, and is honestly one of the best produced and made series that D20 has done. Props to everyone, and now on to the next!

Fantasy High: 8/10

Fantasy High Sophomore Year: 8.5/10

Unsleeping City: 8/10

Unsleeping City II: 9/10

A Crown of Candy: 10/10

#dimension 20 #d20 #truly an amazing job gang #a crown of candy #acoc #narratively? best work they've done #the lou & zac seating arrangement was a sweet lil bonus too #loved this season they all did so good

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suguann · 2 months

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I HOPE YOU STAY—GOJO SATORU

✎. he’d asked why your coworkers weren’t waiting outside with you—it's not safe here—at the same time you asked for a kiss. it just sort of slipped out. | wc. 2.8k+

tags. fem!reader, grinding, unprotected sex, oral sex, some mutual pining (it's implied he doesn't know how to talk to reader), there is not a world where gojo isn't rich, fwb to lovers, jealousy, gagging on how very much in love gojo is with reader and she doesn't see it, praise kink, pet names [18+ only]

masterlist

You’re not sure how it all started.

(As how all arrangements like these seem to start.)

You remember calling Gojo on a night out with your coworkers—one too many cheap vodka cranberries in your system clouding your judgment—just as he left the office for the day, asking if he could pick you up from a shady nightclub downtown.

(You’d hardly been acquaintances, and there was a long period of time where you’re sure he only tolerated you for Shoko’s sake since she’s the one who dragged you into their group of friends. You’re always the last one he acknowledges in the room, and he seems to clam up when you’re alone together.

You refused to let it get to you. Especially when you only see him a handful of times every other month or so, although less now that you’re around, and you pretend it doesn’t eat at you.)

It’s still a mystery why you called him out of everyone you know—you had to scroll through an endless amount of contacts just to find a message you sent him months ago that he left on read with the express purpose of annoying you—and even more surprising that he answered.

You didn’t know him as well as Shoko, but maybe a secret hidden part of you knew he’d help if you were in a pinch.

“Hello?”

(He might be the most infuriating human you know, but he has a voice like rich bourbon.

He’s also stupidly attractive. Beautiful, even, with his straight nose, soft-looking mouth, and thick hair that adorably curls around his ears. However, you’d never say that to his face, for his head would get too big.)

“Do you think you could give me a ride?” It was almost a miracle that your words didn’t slur.

You half expected him to hang up, but then he asked for the address, and several minutes later, he pulled up to the curb in his shiny sports car that probably cost more than everything you own combined and watched you stumble into the soft-leather passenger seat.

It should be embarrassing how long it took you to buckle your seatbelt, but then you finally got a good look at him and took note of his expensive-looking suit: his tie slightly undone, shiny watch and cuff links glinting under the passing street lights, how his hair looked like he ran one of his bear paws for hands through it several times.

You think it was the first time you realized he was as tall as he was wide.

The quintessential businessman in a three-piece suit. You understand the appeal now.

(That je ne sais quoi that makes you want something out of reach. Why your friends from college ask if he’s single when all you see is a man who never takes anything seriously.)

He’d asked why your coworkers weren’t waiting outside with you—it's not safe here—at the same time you asked for a kiss. It just sort of slipped out.

Gojo gave you a look that would have made you giggle if you weren’t serious. “What?”

“I want a kiss,” you told him again.

It was the little once-over he gave you afterward, the way he missed the exit to your street and took the one that led to his, how he kissed you until your knees were wobbly and weak, and you could barely walk to his door in your heels as he pressed small ones around your mouth while his fingers sunk into your hair.

(That. That—)

You came against his thigh—staining his Burberry suit while he whispered dirty things into your ear—right there in the hallway where anybody could see if he didn’t have the whole floor to himself.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned into your mouth once he had you in his room, his hands trailing up and down your sides until he found the zipper for your dress and tugged. "I can't believe this is really happening."

(Later, you spend a lot of time analyzing what he meant.)

You urged him toward the bed when he had the black slip of fabric pooling at your feet, dropping down to your knees in front of him, and together, you scrabbled at his pants, shoving them around his hips. You’ll never forget how hot and heavy he was in your hand that first time, how your fingers barely touched and looked so small in comparison.

There was a thick vein along the underside of his cock, and you trailed it with your tongue, going up and up until you took the slightly purpling head into your open mouth.

You kept taking more of him until you couldn’t go any further without gagging, which wasn’t far because he was big—possibly the biggest dick you’ve ever seen outside of porn—and it made you a little dizzy how quickly it robbed you of air.

“Holy shit.” He stroked your hair so softly, so sweetly, groaned things that made you preen and nuzzle into his touch. “You’re so good at this. You gonna let me cum down that throat?”

That made your belly flip—the fact that Gojo Satoru, of all people, called you good—a stone creating a current of new possibilities.

You hummed a muffled “Uh huh” and squeaked when he held your head down—the coarse hair at his pubic bone brushing against your nose—cumming down your throat in hot, heavy spurts, and you’re surprised you swallowed it all because it was a lot.

He fell back against the mattress, freeing you of his grip, arms spread wide and panting as he lay there with his eyes closed.

“Was it good?” you asked, licking away the small amount of cum that escaped the corner of your mouth.

That got him to pop his head up to look at you, a hint of something too soft on his face than you were used to from him. “Come here,” and he let you crawl into his lap.

A sigh escaped his lips as his hands hovered close to the side of your waist before letting them fall back against the mattress. “You’re trouble, you know that?” he mumbled after kissing your forehead.

(That’s how you think it started.)

~~~~~

Everything’s fine.

Perfectly fine before Gojo sits by you, casually planting himself between you and the newest member of your group of friends, Nanami. You roll your eyes at how childish he’s being, refusing to react to his blatant jealousy.

Then he inconspicuously rests his hand on your knee. You jump at first, and the few people sitting at the table with you glance at you curiously, including Gojo, who gives you a mischievous little smirk that can only mean trouble.

Again, you roll your eyes and choose to ignore whatever is going on in that lizard brain of his.

That doesn’t last long because he’s leaning across you to grab a handful of pretzels, only to lean in close, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he sinks back into his seat.

“You look so fucking good in this dress right now.” His voice already sounds hoarse, stretched thin—raw with want—and you inconspicuously rub your thighs together under the table. “Are you wearing what I bought you underneath? You’d show me, yeah?”

(Because he buys you things now—perfectly normal for someone you’re sleeping with who’s not your boyfriend, but maybe your friend—and sometimes you playfully call him Daddy when he has your wrists tied above your head with one of his silky ties.

And who cares if a few of your things and a toothbrush have found their way into his place? He lives closer to your job. Nobody can blame you for choosing convenience over a forty-minute ride through the subway.

Normal.)

Distantly, you’re aware that you aren’t alone, and there are several ears within earshot distance, but that doesn’t stop the little gasp that escapes past your lips.

“Satoru, knock it off.” You glance around the table to make sure no one is paying attention, your tensed shoulders relaxing a little when you find everyone too preoccupied with their own conversations.

Gojo already has acknowledged this, too.

“I bet you still taste just as sweet as you did this morning. You have no idea how much I want you. It’s making me hard just thinking about it.” At that, you peek down at his lap to find the prominent bulge pressing against his khaki pants.

“Oh?” voice soft when you finally tear your eyes away from his crotch to meet his heated gaze again.

“Mhm.”

Oh.

You can tell that he sees your walls cracking, that it would only take a few sweet words before you finally caved: “You’d let me have another taste, wouldn’t you?”

Your breath hitches because, yes, you would.

That’s how you find yourself with your thighs parted and one of your legs draped over his.

You bite your lip, trying to hold back the moan threatening to escape while the rough pad of his middle finger presses small circles over the top of your panties. His fingers tease, exploring the slick seam of you and retreating when you start arching your hips up into his touch.

It feels like you can’t breathe—or perhaps you’re too fearful to find out what other noises you’d make if you did—practically choking on the torturous (because that’s what this is) pleasure you’re receiving, and you’re ready to beg. You really are. However, you aren’t prepared to face the mortifying consequences if you happen to open your mouth.

Something that sounds a lot like, please, just waiting on the tip of your tongue.

It feels like every pair of eyes at that small table are on you, but they’re none the wiser to what is currently happening beneath the party-themed tablecloth, still laughing and mingling around the yard as they celebrate Geto’s birthday.

It’s not as if it’s all that obvious, either.

Gojo is turned away from you, currently in the middle of a discussion with the birthday boy himself. You have no clue what they were talking about because you’d stopped paying attention a while ago—not that you’d be able to listen if you wanted to with Gojo’s fingers turning every spun cotton candy thought back into melted sugar.

He traces lightly over the covered seam of your lips before finally slipping under the silky material—his skilled fingers working slippery circles at the apex of your thighs—and the subtle relief forces you to swallow another moan.

“Satoru,” you warn under your breath, grabbing his wrist to stop his movements. But the feel of him patting your sticky, sensitive clit with three fingers cuts off all of your protests, forcing you to sit there and let him play with you.

Heat crawls up your neck as he explores your slick folds, the loud music, and chatter, thankfully hiding the wet sounds produced between your legs.

He does offer some mercy when he notices the slight quiver in your thighs, how they jump and jump until he stops teasing to press to fingers inside you and grind the heel of his palm into your clit. Your hips start rocking forward against his hand slightly, and you pray nobody notices because the heat spreading through your belly is almost too consuming to stop now, making you dizzy with it.

Your abs hurt from how hard they clench, and your legs shake, culminating in a slow drop just before you resurface. Gojo can probably feel it—attuned to your body after all these months—and starts moving in a steady rhythm, and—

The breath you’re about to take gets caught in your throat, fingers gripping Gojo’s wrist and the ledge of the table as you tip over the edge. Your legs tremble while you convulse onto his hand, and you have to lean into him to keep from falling out of your chair.

His fingers bring you back down, slowly, rubbing soothingly against your inner thigh as the fog gradually dissipates from your brain. And what you’d give to hear him call you his good girl at that moment—

“Hey, are you okay?” Shoko asks you from across the table. “You don’t look so good.”

All eyes turn towards you, including the smug little gleam in Gojo’s.

“Yeah,” you squeak before standing up hastily. You pull Gojo up with you, not caring that it’s the same hand covered in your sticky-wet slick. “I just remembered that I need Sa—Gojo’s help with something.”

Only a few are dumb enough to believe that lie, and you avoid the smirk Shoko gives you as she watches you practically drag Gojo toward the house.

(Because, of course, she knows.

And perhaps she’s not the only one.)

~~~~~

The tipping point in your relationship—the one that turns it from a maybe into a definite something, and not just two people who have been having sex and somewhat living together for six months—happens on a night Gojo comes home late from work.

(Exactly five minutes to eleven.)

You’re not usually the jealous type, but you’ll admit that dating someone like Gojo—rich, attractive, owns more Tom Ford suits than you have jeans, and just important enough that he has an assistant who runs said suits to the dry cleaners—can stir up some insecurities.

A more reasonable person would lay out the facts like a deck of cards: you know he’s someone’s boss’s boss, so he likely had to stay behind to fix someone else’s mess, but the proverbial chip onto the poker table comes with his new assistant.

Hinata.

A girl who’s fresh out of college and around him more hours of the day than you see him during the week, and from the few times you stopped by his office, you can tell she has a thing for him—her lack of subtlety could compete with Gojo’s nonexistent observation skills.

Much later, after you’ve slept on the softest sheets you’ve ever laid on, you’ll admit you overreacted. How you shouldn’t have thrown blankets and pillows at him from his bed for him to sleep on the couch with as soon as he walked through the front door—not to mention how you never give him a chance to explain himself and keep huffing whenever he opened his mouth.

After the second pillow (almost comically, if you weren’t so upset) hits him square in the face, he drops the blankets to grab your wrists.

“Would you stop throwing blankets at me and tell me what’s wrong?”

"Like you don't know," you hiss unhelpfully just to be difficult.

"I wouldn't be asking if I did." This time, his voice is softer when he says, "Talk to me."

"It’s your assistant."

He frowns. “My assistant…?”

“Yes, your assistant,” you huff, making an unsuccessful attempt to yank your wrists free. “She obviously has a thing for you, but you’re too thick to notice. You forgot your phone, and she answered and said you were busy...”

He probably sees the vulnerability on your face. Hears what you’re not telling him because he presses a kiss to your forehead—I’m not seeing anyone other than you—another to your mouth before he’s showing you with your thighs pressed to your chest that every piece of him (even the parts he doesn’t show to anyone else) is yours.

“You want me to send this video to her to let her know you’re the only girl I want to fuck?” he grunts, making sure his phone captures the way his cock pushes in and out of you, hissing dirtier things that only you hear—the tightest pussy he’s ever had. “Would you like that?”

“Y-yes,” you whine, fingernails digging into his hand wrapped around your throat. “Please, Toru. I want it.”

“So fucking dirty,” he growls, even though he’d do it for you anyway.

He stuffs his cock into you over and over again until you’re a twitching mess underneath him, the walls of your cunt clenching down around him as you cum with a squeak.

“There you go,” he groans into your ear, tossing his phone to the side to pin you against the mattress so he can reach that tender spot deep inside you that made you cum so hard once your foot cramped, his teeth sinking into your shoulder. “Is that what you needed? To make you cum because you’re mine? Fuck, baby—I’ll never get tired of this perfect little cunt.”

“Better not,” you whimper, eyelashes wet, squirming beneath him as he fucks you hard into the soft sheets.

“Never, sweetheart, never.” Gojo’s thrusts turn rough and brutal, almost working you into overstimulation just to prove a point. "You're my girl. The only one for me."

It's not quite an 'I love you,' but it's close.

Afterward, he pulls you between the sheets, holds you close with a hand cupping the back of your head, and asks you to stay.

“For good this time. No more leaving in the morning,” he whispers, lips grazing your cheek. “You like the walk-in closet and the clawfoot tub. We have enough room to turn the spare bedroom into an office for you because you like how sunny it gets in there during the day.”

It’s not a question, but you still say ‘I do’ because you really like how the word we sounds coming from him.

“Then…stay.”

…You say yes because it’s not as if you want to be anywhere else.

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk fic

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dilemmaontwolegs · 4 months

Text

Irresistible || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: A one night stand comes back to haunt you when your father plans to marry his mother. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, cheating, time skipping, kind of taboo (future stepbrother) WC: 6.1k F1 Masterlist || One || Two

December 2019

Two years ago you had spent an amazing week in Monaco during a European getaway. It was meant to be a once in a lifetime trip but now you sat opposite your father at the kitchen table in your family home trying to understand what he was saying.

“…the kindest woman. You’ll love her, just like I do.”

He fell in love so now you were expected to leave behind everyone you knew and just start a new life with his new family. You knew he had been happier since the trip but you never would have thought it was because of some long distance relationship. He had kept that to himself for a long time.

“Can’t you just have a midlife crisis like everyone else?” you asked. “Why are you moving us across the world for a stranger?”

“Did you not hear me? Pascale is not a stranger. Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be. I love her.”

Resentment built and you pushed your chair back as you stood up. “You loved mum too, and look how that ended.”

Your father sighed and you immediately felt guilty for the heaviness in that one breath. It wasn’t his fault your mother decided domestic life wasn’t for her and left when you were just a baby. It wasn’t his fault that she met a man who had a motorcycle and flirted with the wrong side of the law. And it certainly wasn’t his fault that they crashed in a high speed police chase when you were 15.

You sank back into your seat and picked at the chipped Formica table top. “I’m sorry, dad.”

A calloused hand from a life of hard work gently patted yours. “It’s a big adjustment, pumpkin, but you said Monaco was a beautiful place. I thought you would be happy.”

“It was, but I’ll never see my friends.”

“I’m not saying you can replace them, but you’ll make new ones. And even with the different timezones I’m sure you can make arrangements to video call each other.”

He was making an effort, you could recognise that at least. “Fine. I suppose it won’t be that bad.”

August 2017

All of the streets seemed to look the same, the stonework buildings towering over you as the afternoon sun dipped even further below the mountains that bordered the place. You had no idea which way it was to get back to the hotel and you weren’t going to risk the international roaming charges to use the internet on your phone, you already spent most of your savings on the clothes in the bags that hung from your wrists.

You were too busy looking up and trying to get a sense of direction that you didn’t see the man getting out of his car. Pain flared in your knee as a door slammed into it and you dropped the bags to clutch your leg that throbbed and drew a groan from your lips. It was worse than hitting your funny bone and you grabbed the hood of the car to balance when you nearly teetered over.

“Mon Dieu, est-ce que tu vas bien?”

You couldn’t understand a word he said but the accent was almost enough to make you feel better, until you looked up. The setting sun cast a golden glow around the man and you swore he was more beautiful than the godlike statues you had seen in Rome the week before.

“I, I,” you stammered stupidly as he knelt down beside you and repacked the bags that had fallen to the street. His bright green eyes lingered on the red lace bra and panty set you had spent a small fortune on before he cleared his throat and shoved them in the bag. “I don’t speak French.”

“You should really be watching where you are walking,” he said as he stood up, his accent saturating his words and making the scolding sound sexy. And it was most definitely a scolding. “You could have been hit by a car.”

“I was,” you pointed out as you tested your leg and winced when you put your weight on it.

“I meant one that was driving past. It was a good thing I was parked.” He looked down his nose and shook his head. Somehow this stranger had managed to make you feel guilty for disappointing him, and it started to infuriate you.

“I really don’t think this is all my fault,” you snapped as you swiped your bags back. “This is a footpath, and that is a no parking zone. Maybe you should concentrate more on where you should be driving than how I should be walking.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and he did the same until his lip twitched and a smirk broke out. “You think I am a bad driver?”

You looked at the double yellow lined he was parked over and squared your shoulders. “Does a duck quack?”

He mouthed the question back before he understood what you were implying and laughed as he took a step closer. “I like you, you are funny, and delusional. What is your name, and what are you doing tonight?”

You were still trying to figure out if he had complimented or insulted you when someone called out and stole his attention before you could answer.

“Charles, dépêche-toi!”

You both turned to the group that had arrived, all of the young men looking almost as handsome as he did. They had to be from the same modelling agency, or there was something seriously strong in the water here.

“Well?”

You looked at Charles and found he was still waiting for an answer. “Probably still trying to find my hotel.”

“Funny,” he chuckled before waving his friends off. “Je te rattraperai plus tard.” He took your bags and stuffed them in the backseat of his car before offering his hand. “I can’t have you walking these streets all night, god knows what trouble you could cause.”

“I was doing fine, until you hit me with your car, and now you want to drive me in it? Nuh-uh, I would rather take my chances on foot.”

You stepped around him to get your bags back, or at least you tried to but your aching knee gave out. You would have fallen to the pavement but a strong arm curled around your waist and pulled you against him.

“You could have just asked if you wanted to hold me, biche.”

“Excuse me?” You pushed away from him and gritted your teeth through the pain. “I’m not sure in what world you think that is flirting, asshole.”

Charles threw his head back with a laugh and easily caught up to you, his palm heating the small of your back as he guided you around to face his car again “Biche, not bitch, it’s a cute little deer. I can call you Bambi instead, I quite like that. Unless you want to tell me your name?”

You rolled your eyes, unsure whether the endearment was an improvement at all, but stepped into the car when he opened the door for you. “No thanks, I don’t know if you are some sort of stalker.”

He laughed again before walking around to the driver's seat. “What hotel are you staying in?”

“The Fairmont.”

The flashy car roared to life and you turned to face Charles when his laughter grew. “So you would tell a stalker where you are staying but not your name?”

“That sounds to me like you are admitting you are a stalker,” you shot back with a daring arch of your brow. “Besides, I’m staying with a man that would snap you like a twig if you tried to turn me into a skin suit. I don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Your boyfriend?”

You snorted at the question and shook your head. “My father.”

He smiled at the news as he pulled out into the traffic and drove the short distance to the hotel. Your meandering had only left you two streets away from it so it was probably more of a nuisance to drive you there but Charles didn’t seem to mind.

“Are you enjoying the city?”

“It’s beautiful,” you said with a nod. “It’s almost a shame to leave tomorrow.”

“Have you been to Jimmyz?”

“Not yet.” You had heard of the club but most nights had consisted of a late dinner with your father and then bed. It was actually the first day you hadn’t spent hanging out with him, he had gone to get a haircut that was long overdue after all the travelling and you had used the alone time for a little girl shopping.

“You should come tonight, my friends and I are going and I owe you for hitting you with my car.”

January 2020

Your father thought it would be a good idea for Pascale to come and stay for a week before the big move. She owned a hair studio so it was easy to take some time off and she was due to arrive any moment. He had all but begged you to make an effort with Pascale before leaving for the airport. He had never brought a woman home, or at least while you were there, so it was strange to see how he fussed over the crumbs in the kitchen sink.

You did a quick final inspection through the house but with most of the belongings already sold or shipped off to Monaco there was next to nothing that could make a mess. You only hoped all your things arrived in time at the other end. It was bad enough you were going to be staying with one of your step brothers to begin with but it was only for a few weeks while the renovations on the new house dad and Pascale had bought were finished. He promised that your room would have a view of the ocean and your own bathroom - it was absolutely a bribe but you were fine with that.

The car pulled into the driveway, past the large real estate sign with an unmissable SOLD sticker across it. You had seen a handful of pictures of Pascale on your dad’s phone but when she stepped out of the car you realised they didn’t do her justice. Despite being on multiple planes that never made for a decent sleep, she looked refreshed and even her hair was still in a perfect blowout. She was really pretty, or maybe it was the bright smile she gave your dad when he parked the car.

“Do I look alright, Peter?” she asked as she touched her hair nervously and straightened her blouse.

“It’s not an interview, sweetheart,” he chuckled as he grabbed her suitcase. “You look beautiful.”

August 2017

The club was unlike anything back home. The music seemed to seep into your skin, the bass vibrating in your bones. Even the air was intoxicating with the promise of a night of bad decisions.

“Bambi, I didn’t think you would actually come.”

You turned away from the bar and found Charles drinking in the sight of your short, tight dress. His eyes followed every line, dip and curve of your body and he bit his lip as he dragged them back up to your face. For the price you had paid you were happy it had the desired effect.

With your confidence bolstered you sent him a smirk and grabbed your drink that had been placed down. “Well you did say you owe me, you can start with my drink.”

Charles didn’t look away as he reached into his pocket and stepped closer, his hand reaching past to slap a bill on the bar top. His scent reached you, the cologne inviting you to lean closer and inhale the decadence of vanilla and bergamot. “The usual, please.”

He could have stepped back while his drink was made but he chose to stay close, his eyes flicking down your cleavage to see the red lace set he had been daydreaming about all evening. “How about we get out of here?”

You had fantasised about a summer romance since the trip began, what young woman wouldn’t when they were going to Europe? But you hadn’t been able to conjure a face as handsome as his when you closed your eyes late at night and your hand drifted beneath the blankets. Now you had the opportunity in the palm of your hands and you weren’t going to let it slip from your fingers.

Tipping your head back, you met his green eyes that dared you rise to the challenge. “Lead the way.”

February 2020

You were jet lagged and exhausted when you finally reached your temporary accommodation.

“Charles is just on his way back from work but he shouldn’t be too far away. Make yourself at home, sweetheart,” Pascale said as she helped you with your bags.

The apartment was bare with mostly blank white walls and a few framed pictures of Ferrari cars. It was a typical boy space that was in desperate need of soft furnishings to liven it up, but that wasn’t your problem to deal with.

“He just bought the place so he’s still finding his ‘vibe’,” Pascale noted when she saw you eying up the empty space, the words sounding like they were verbatim and not her own. “But there’s two bedrooms and two bathrooms so you’ll have your own space. The builder said our house will be finished in a few weeks.”

“It’s great, Pascale,” you assured her as you set your bag down on the bed with a long yawn. You were surprised to find it had a floral duvet and a sheet set already made up - something you were sure she had done for you.

She nodded and placed your other suitcase down before leaving, closing the door most of the way. “I’ll let you rest for a bit.”

You woke to voices down the hall and found a blanket had been draped over you at some point.

“Can’t she sleep on Enzo’s couch? I don’t even know her, she could try to sell my things. There have been stranger things done before.”

“Ah-ah, no, and she doesn't even watch racing. Peter said she had no interest in the sport.” Pascale sighed heavily, the same way your father did when he was having to repeat himself. “She’s a lovely young lady, and she’s going to be family so please treat her as such.”

August 2017

“Where are we going?”

Charles just smiled and kept driving through the quiet streets before pulling into a hotel far nicer than the one you were staying in.

“You live in a hotel?”

He laughed and tossed his car key to the valet driver. “No, but I have a roommate who would probably not be very happy with me if we woke him.”

He already had a room and led the way to the elevators with the confidence of a man who had certainly been here before. You didn’t mind, you were hardly a saint, and you knew exactly what you were doing when you dressed for the night out. You knew how you wanted the night to end.

For a man who looked eager to undress you, like he had done with his eyes, he didn’t touch you until the door was firmly closed behind him. But once that door locked shut it was as if the leash he had kept a hold of himself with was dropped and he pinned you against the wall, his lips finding the hollow of your neck.

The temperature in the room seemed to swell as his kiss climbed higher and he finally reached your lips. You moaned at the feel of his hands roaming your body and his tongue slipped past your parted lips when he dragged the zip down your spine.

“J'ai envie de le faire depuis que je t'ai vu pour la première fois. You are so fucking sexy.” [I have been wanting to do this since I first saw you.] He stepped back and watched the material fall away to reveal the tempting red lace he had been dying to see.

Your heart skipped a beat at the hunger in his eyes and you reached behind your back to unclip the bra. It was thrilling to watch the colour of his eyes fade to black as you revealed more skin to him but when you reached for your panties he spurred forward to stop you.

“Mine,” he stated as he brushed your hands aside and hooked his fingers into the waistband instead. Falling to one knee, he dragged the lace down your thighs and let them tangle around your ankles before kissing your hip. Your head fell back against the wall with a thud as he nudged your legs apart and pulled one leg over his shoulder. “What’s my name?”

Your forehead crumpled as his breath warmed your cunt and you buried your hands in his hair to hurry him up, but he was too strong.

“What’s my name?” he repeated.

“Ch-Charles,” you stammered as his fingers teased your entrance without delving further, driving you wild with need.

“Good girl, remember that when I make you scream.”

The words left you drunk and you would have dared him to make good on them but his tongue found your clit and two fingers curled into your cunt. All thoughts left your head while he was knelt fully dressed before you and all too soon his name echoed across the room as he brought you to your first of many highs.

You could barely walk by the time you collapsed on the king bed and your head was spinning from the various positions you had found yourself in. You only bothered to move when a phone vibrated on the bedside table and you reached over to see if it was yours.

Giada: When are you coming home?

“Need a break, Bambi?” Charles teased as he returned from the minibar with a bottle of water, cracking the top off and offering it to you first.

You took the bottle with a grateful smile and swallowed a few mouthfuls to ease your dry throat. “Who’s Giada?”

His eyes flicked to his phone and he grabbed it, quickly replying to the message before tossing it aside and caging you beneath his body. “My roommate. Now, where were we?”

You should have been in a dead sleep but something had woken you. It was an ungodly hour given the darkness that was still outside but it did mean you saw the light of Charles' phone. His soft snores were silenced by the pillow he buried his face in and you took a second to admire the sight of his toned body in the moonlight.

Giada: It’s so hard to sleep without you here. I love you xxx

You slipped out of the bed without waking him and hated how good the ache between your legs felt because of him. You should have known a man like him was bound to have a girlfriend. She was probably a model.

You quickly gathered your clothes and dressed on the way to the door, closing it silently behind you. No one had to know you were even there and in a few hours you would be heading to the airport, never to see Charles again.

It took far longer than you expected to find your way back to the hotel and your father was already awake when you entered the room.

“You look like you had a rough night.”

You continued on your way to your bedroom in desperate need of a shower before packing. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fair enough.”

You reemerged looking refreshed but you still felt contradictory inside. You told yourself that you did nothing wrong but it didn’t help when you knew there was a woman waiting at home for the man you had fucked. Fucked didn’t begin to cover what you had done - he had hung the stars and the moon, he had expanded your mind to the pleasures that could be sought with the right experience and partner. He had ruined you for all the men back home.

You fought to tug the zip of your suitcase closed, more than ready to leave the place behind, and growled in frustration. Your dad knew better than to bring attention to your mood but he gently moved you aside and closed the stubborn zip himself.

“How was your night?” you asked as you went to the kitchenette and made a strong brew of coffee.

He smiled to himself and picked up the suitcase to add it to the pile by the door but his smile dimmed when he saw how miserable you looked. “Nothing special, I just had dinner and a walk by the water.”

Normally you would have picked up on the lie, but you were too self centred to notice how happy he looked. He was glowing.

February 2020

You followed the voices to the living room and found Pascale in the doorway saying her goodbyes. You couldn’t see the face of the man she was talking to, only a head of dark hair, but he turned when his mothers attention was drawn away.

“You…” you breathed as you recognised the green eyes that had haunted your dreams for two years. Pascale frowned and you plastered a fake smile as you held your hand out. “You must be Charles.”

“I am,” he hummed as he looked at your hand before enveloping it in his much larger one. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“I’ll see you both for dinner tonight, Charles can drive you until we get you a car.”

Charles seemed to be hearing the news for the first time. “I can?”

“Yes, you can. Now make sure she feels at home alright, maybe introduce her to some of your friends.” Pascale blew a kiss and left Charles to close the door.

His eyes sparkled with mischief as he locked it and you realised at that moment just how fucked you were because, despite the quick prayer you had sent, Charles had recognised you too. “Hello again, Bambi.”

“Fuck me,” you muttered beneath your breath.

Charles smirked and booped you on the nose as he walked past you and towards his kitchen. “No thanks, you’re going to be my sister soon.”

You hated that for a second you were disappointed before common sense returned and you went to your room to find your phone. “Dad, I can’t stay here.”

“Why not?”

“Charles is an asshole, that’s why,” you whispered angrily, your eyes scanning the bottom of your door to see if he was eavesdropping.

“It’s only for two weeks, three at the most, plus he will be heading back to Italy for work on Monday.”

“Who the hell works in Italy and lives in Monaco?”

“He does, you would know that if you had a conversation with him and got to know him.”

“I don’t want to get to know him, I want to go home.”

“This is home now,” your dad said quietly as you heard Pascale arrive home at the other end. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

You flopped onto your bed with a groan as the call ended. Two weeks. Two fucking weeks. You groaned again as you realised that it may be just two weeks of living with him but there would be a lifetime of having him as your step brother. “Fuck!”

“I might have to get a swear jar to cover your half of the utilities.”

You surged upright and found Charles leaning against the balcony door, a balcony you apparently shared with his room next door. “Can I just make one thing very clear? As far as I am concerned, whatever happened two years ago - it didn’t. Nothing happened. I never saw you before today.”

“Nothing happened?” he chuckled as he walked into the room. “You still have that sense of humour because I remember a lot happening. Do I need to jog your memory?”

You hated how your body betrayed you, how your eyes followed his every step as he closed the distance between you. “You’re actually sick. Our parents are getting married.”

He stopped in front of you, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face and his eyes traced your lips. “You were gone when I woke up.”

“Giada wasn’t your roommate.”

“No, she wasn’t,” he admitted with that same smirk that simultaneously had you wanting to both slap it or kiss it away. “I have a new roommate now.”

“Not for long, I am gone as soon as the house is ready.”

“Oh, Bambi,” he laughed, swaggering his way back to the balcony door. “I wasn’t talking about you.”

“Asshole.”

“Biche.”

“Charles, you should introduce Y/N to Charlotte,” Pascale said as she poured another wine for you. “That’s his girlfriend. You would probably get along with her, she’s about your age and a very nice girl too.”

You bit your tongue as you raised your glass to your lips and stared at Charles over the rim. Placing the glass back down, you smiled sweetly. “Is that right? I could do with making a girlfriend here, someone to talk about boys with. Maybe she can set me up with a handsome Frenchie.”

A foot kicked you under the table and you chuckled at the glare he was sending you over the greek salad.

“We go to brunch on Sunday,” Pascale said with a pat to your hand. “You should come.”

“Count me in.” You stabbed a sweet cherry tomato with your fork before sealing your lips around it and humming in delight. “This was a delicious meal.”

Charles soon declared he was exhausted from the drive back from wherever it was he worked in Italy and Pascale looked a little disappointed that the first family dinner was cut short. Since he was your ride, you had to say goodnight to everyone too and followed him out to the car that was even flashier than what he had two years ago. His Ferrari fixation was more than just pictures of the cars in his apartment but he drove one too.

“You are quite eager to leave,” you noted as you lowered yourself into the passenger seat, your skirt riding up your thighs as you settled into the leather. Charles inhaled sharply as he saw the hint of your panties peek out and slammed the door shut before storming his way around the car.

“I’m in half a mind to take you over my lap and turn your ass red,” he growled as he pulled out of the driveway.

“Arthur is lovely,” you commented as you smiled at your reflection in the window. You were absolutely enjoying the way Charles gritted his teeth, but he had started this dance in your bedroom. “He offered to keep me company while you are away next week. I think I might enjoy his company more than yours.”

“Biche,” he warned as he broke the speed limit and practically skidded to a stop in his reserved parking spot. “You’re mine. No one else touches you. Ever.”

You slipped out of the car and felt his eyes on your ass as you climbed the stairs to the apartment. Though you had a key you waited for him to open the door and kept your voice low while he fumbled with the lock in his frustration. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you.”

“Everything looks good on me,” he argued as he turned the key and shoved you through the doorway.

“Is that what your girlfriend tells you?”

“No, she prefers me with nothing on.”

You could understand why that was but didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you agree as you went to your room. “Goodnight, Charles.”

“Night, ma biche.”

It was still early but you refused to leave your room, instead opening your laptop to watch a movie. You were halfway through a stupid rom-com when you heard a feminine voice in the apartment and you paused it to check you weren’t hearing things.

“Oh, Charles, bébé, baise-moi!”

You rolled your eyes at the sounds of the headboard banging on the wall you shared and rifled through your bag to find a pair of headphones. It seemed that they grew louder or you became hyper aware of what was happening in the room next door, and a needy throb began between your legs when you heard Charles moan deeply.

Your frustration built until you disappeared into the bathroom and doused yourself in a cold shower, cursing him the entire time you waited for your blood to cool. You could finally think clearly after drying off and recognised he was only making his next move in the game he had started. It was time to start planning yours.

Charles' steps faltered when he emerged from his bedroom shirtless but he recovered quickly and walked past your position on the couch as he went to get himself a drink of water.

“You should try Gatorade,” you suggested as you flipped through the channels leisurely. “I find it better than water after a good fucking.”

“What are you wearing?” he finally asked after emptying the glass in one breath and wiping his lips dry.

“This is how I sleep,” you said as you stretched your legs out onto the ottoman. “Is that a problem for you?”

His eyes followed the line of your legs to the edge of the black and red babydoll you wore and cleared his throat. “No, no problem.”

“Charles, who are you talking to?” A pretty brunette emerged from the room and scanned the room, taking in her half naked boyfriend talking to you who was barely dressed much more than him.

You rose to your feet before Charles could recover and bounced over to the young lady, wrapping her in a hug. “You must be Charlotte, maman’s told me so much about you. I thought I would have to wait until Sunday to meet you.”

“Maman? Sunday?” she asked as she looked at Charles for the answers.

“This is Y/N, my step sister - or soon to be -” he added quietly. “Maman invited her to brunch.”

“We are going to be great friends, Lottie,” you sang as you stepped back with a grin. “I just know it.”

Charles nearly broke his glass as he tossed it in the sink and headed back to his room, returning a moment later with a sweatshirt and jeans on. “Allez, mon amour,” he called to Charlotte as he grabbed his keys.

You pouted playfully as he led her to the door. “She can sleep over, I don’t mind - I have earplugs.”

Charlotte flushed pink and clearly had no idea you were in the house while they were getting down and dirty. It made it all the more entertaining as you waved goodbye. “I’ll see you Sunday.”

Charles waited until Charlotte had passed the doorway before following, casting a final glance your way. “Don’t wait up.”

You felt his presence in your room before you saw him step out of the shadows with just a towel slung low on his hips and the bed dipped under his weight. “Well played,” he admitted, flopping back and making himself comfortable.

Rolling over, you turned to face him and tucked your arm under your head. “Did you think about me when you were with her?”

His lips twitched before he gave in to the smile. “Every fucking second.”

“She’s pretty.”

He reached out and brushed your cheek with his knuckles. “You’re beautiful.”

You could feel yourself falling to the temptation that his lips provided and it was getting harder to resist taking what you wanted. “You should go back to your room.”

“Your lips say one thing but these say another,” he teased as his touch drifted over your collar and down to your breasts, the thin babydoll doing little to hide your nipples that had hardened since he laid down in the bed. “They are begging for something else entirely.”

“Charles,” you whispered as you leaned into his touch before you could think better of it.

“I forgot how good my name sounded on your lips,” he hummed as his hand slipped beneath the material, “but I like it better when you scream it.”

“This is a bad idea.”

It didn’t stop him from rolling your nipple between his finger and thumb and drawing a soft sigh from you. “Why is this a bad idea, biche?”

“Because you have a girlfriend, and you’re my step…step…fuck…” Your eyes fluttered shut as his hand slipped between your legs and he touched you over your panties.

“Let me worry about Charlotte, you just relax and spread those lovely legs wider for me.”

“This is going to end badly.” You knew it but it didn’t stop your knees from parting for him. There was something about him that threw caution to the wind, it had been that way the first time you met too. He was pure temptation. He was the apple and you were Eve, unable to resist taking a bite. “I’ll find somewhere else to stay.”

He bit his lip as he watched how your body danced for his touch. “But not tonight.”

“Not tonight,” you conceded as you watched his eyes darken with lust. “Now please fuck me.”

Charles woke alone for the second time after sleeping with you but he smiled when he heard music playing in the living room. “You stayed,” he teased as he walked down the hall, trying to tame his hair along the way.

“Didn’t have another option but I have found some short term rentals to view next week.”

He froze and his hands dropped to his side. “Wait, you were serious?”

“Yes, this isn’t going to work because if I’m anywhere near you this will just keep happening, and it was a mistake.”

The pop music suddenly grated on Charles' nerves and he grabbed the remote, changing it to another channel before tossing the remote away. You knew he was sulking at the thought of losing his plaything but you ignored him and watched the French news that you couldn’t understand.

Something on the tv caught Charles’ attention though and he sat up straighter, his arms unfolding as his mouth parted in surprise. The breaking news headline was one that was universal and you realised something big was happening.

“What is it?” you asked as he remained fixated on the tv.

“It’s that virus,” he murmured. You had seen it on the news at home before the move, the outbreak reaching all across the globe as it spread person to person. You had been worried about it on the plane with each cough you heard. “It’s spreading here.”

“Okay, and?”

His hand found its way to his mouth and he bit his nails as he listened, translating and relaying the information for you in sporadic bursts. “You won’t need that rental, Bambi.”

“Why?”

He turned to you with an odd look that you couldn’t quite figure out, possibly apprehension or anticipation or a mix of both. “At midnight tonight the whole country is going into lockdown.”

His phone started ringing almost immediately and he excused himself to take the call. “It’s work.”

“Shit, shit, shit.” You grabbed your phone and dialled your dad. “Did you hear what’s happening? What do we do?”

“Relax, pumpkin, it’s going to be fine,” he assured you. “It’ll all blow over quickly, I’m sure. They can’t stop the world from turning, can they?”

You laughed in agreement and felt a little better by the time you hung up the phone, but Charles returned looking stressed as he dropped onto the couch beside you.

“Good news or bad news first?”

You didn’t think it mattered either way and just shrugged.

“Italy is also going into lockdown so there’s no reason to go back on Monday.” He draped his arm over your shoulders and pull you into his side. “Looks like we are going to be seeing a lot more of each other.”

“Is that the good or the bad news?”

“Well, I like my job so not being able to do it is bad for me, but being trapped with you indefinitely certainly sounds good to me.”

“Indefinitely?” you laughed and shook your head. “As soon as the house is done I’m gone.”

Charles' laughter silenced you and his kissed your temple. “Oh, Bambi…The builders will be locked down too, nothing will be finished any time soon. You’re all mine.”

“Shit,” you groaned in realisation. It was going to be impossible to keep your hands off him and from the grin on his face he knew it too.

“This is going to be great.”

Click here for part two.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #lando norris fanfic

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inupibaldspot · 4 months

Text

So It Matches Your Eyes.

Characters: Gojo Satoru x Reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : Highschool!Gojo has a crush on you, idk mane.

To Yaga, this was a sight of fresh air which almost acted a light reminder that his students being so strong and special affiliated with cursed energies where still children.

His four second year students were all under detention after forgetting to make a veil when they carried out a mission. Dealing with the after math which consisted of explains to the elders and finding excuses on how to twist the media had led him to not sleeping for three days! Now he was making all of them write an descriptive essay on why veils are such importance to jujutsu sorcerers . Shoko’s seat was empty though , she was summoned in the infirmary after a third year student was severely injured from a mission, Yaga hoped Shoko didn’t miss out too much of her school days.

Despite, Yaga having a book in his hands as he read through got distracted my a certain trouble maker student, Gojo Satoru. A strong young man born into the esteemed Gojo Clan, blessed with infinity and six eyes was currently looking a certain someone sitting next to him.

You who was always diligent was working on your essay, occasionally closing your eyes with a small pout and when you felt you finally got a point worth writing down,tongue slightly jutting out from the corner of your lips which would make Gojo’s lips curl up as his eyes soften. Ahh young love.

Yaga had noticed how Gojo’s seat would be much closer to yours as compared to the regular seating arrangements, and if anyone Yaga himself would come in early and make changes to the seating, Gojo would always nonchalantly, without fail shift it closer to yours.

“Yaga Sensei, I’m done!” You shouted up from your seat which made both Yaga and Gojo, jump as you rush quickly up to your teacher with your paper which you had your essay written on. “ I’m done so I’ll be leaving. Drama of Haruma Miura will be coming out and I haveeee to watch it live.”

“Wai-!” Ignoring Yaga’s shout you quickly made your way out of the door leaving a trail of dust behind with how quick you were which made Geto laugh at your antics.

Yaga quickly scans through you essay and sighs. It’s well written so I have no place to complain. “Sensei, I’m also done!” Gojo quickly rushes to his teacher and places his paper on his table about to rush away, in a rush to follow you.

Before Gojo could take another step, he felt a tug on his collar as his turns his head to look at his teacher who had a scrowl on his face. “Satoru,I asked for a descriptive essay!”

“Not only did you write me an argumentative essay, your essay completely sided with not putting up a veil because that’s a drag and ordinary people should just suck it up.” Geto sits completely amused, as Yaga never lets go of Gojo’s collar as he continues to shout at him, the way you’ve got Gojo completely following you everywhere with his puppy love was funny as fuck.

You flinch as the door to your slams open which makes you turn your head to find a scrolling Satoru Gojo walk in with his hands in pocket. “ Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”

“Beats me.” Despite entering the room like an uncivilized person would gently close the door behind him, he didn’t want more scolding from you. His eyes trails to you who sat on your bed with a small table on your bed, your hand was extended with nail polish es sets on the table. “Weren’t you gonna watch a drama or something?”

You huff as you made sure your left hand was staying still,making sure the mail polish dries properly. “He kisses the female lead so I don’t wanna watch the drama no more…”

Gojo’s smiles, a condescending one in fact as he walks and slowly sits on your bed making sure your nail polishes don’t fall over. “Sucks to be you~” He purrs out his words.

“Hmp! I hope Inuoe Waka gets exposed for having a husband.” You say with Gojo going ‘blah blah’ in the background, smile still plastered on his face. Your eyes look over to his, sharing an eye contact as you smile. “Want to put on some nail polish?”

Gojo peers over. “You gonna apply for me right?” And smiles when you have a nod of confirmation as he hurriedly out-stretched his hand towards you.

“Really? I thought you’d be against it,saying something like this ain’t what men do?” Gojo have no shit to that thought, as long as the girl he had a big fat crush on, holds his hand, a win is a win.

You look over you collection. “What color do you want?.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Maybe blue…a blue which would look similar to your eyes.”

“Beautiful…” Gojo slightly melts as you peer over your collection, your hair slightly covering your face as the evening light from the sun gives your face a heavenly look. “I meant of course! My eyes are a beautiful blue!” He stammers through his sentences as he fights back the heat on his face.

You looked at him with a scowl, what an egotistical brat! Was written all over your fave but then you didn’t say a word as you picked up a color and held his hand, bringing it closer to yours as you start applying the nail polish.

Gojo felt as if the part of his hands which were held were extremely warm, he hoped he doesn’t start sweating. But as he continues to look at you and your eyes which was focused on his fingers, he felt very light, as if this was how it was always meant to be with him being with you and you who looked simply so beautiful as the room was engulfed in a comfortable silence.

“Done!” You smiled as you looked at the nail polish on Gojo’s fingers before your lips curled upwards turned into a pout. “You’re so unfair, Satoru…”

Gojo tilted his head in confusion. “What did I do?”

“Even your hand is so pretty.” You huff as you brought your hands next to his. Gojo’s hands were big yet it was so slim with proper trimmed nails , you had no doubt if he were to become a nail model he’d be booked and busy.

Gojo felt heat rush into his face as he tried to keep his heart from beating too fast as his brain starts to make unconfirmed scenario but in which all of them contained you. “What do you mean ‘even’?”

You looked into his eyes for a brief second as you slowly look away, your cheeks had a beautiful flush to it. “I mean… you’re born into the Gojo clan so you’re already freaking rich… you have such cool cursed techniques, you’re already a special grade sorcerer.”

Gojo bites the inside of his cheeks In disappointment from your answer. As he opened his mouth, about to make a snarky remark you beat him to it.

“You’re tall, your hair always looks good no matter how you style it, your eyes are so beautiful which looked like the limitless skies , you’re also good looking…” you finally look into his eyes, Gojo thought that it was his day to die for a second at how adorable you looked with a shy look into your face. “So it’s unfair that you even got pretty hands.. you literally got everything.”

“…you.” Gojo muttered in a low, quiet voice which you couldn’t understand properly so you titled you head as you have him a confused look, blush still dusted on your cheeks from your confession.

“I don’t have you…” He repeated. “If you were mine then only can I say I have everything.” Gojo had always made many scenarios which was about him confessing to you as he attended class, in his showers, before he slept but this, this wasn’t part of his scenario. This wasn’t how he thought he’d be confessing to you but then the moment now seemed just right.

“I see… I guess that really means you’ve got everything.” You break into a smile as you then put out your hand towards him. “Do you mind coloring this hand of mine?”

Gojo smiles as his heart soars, he tries to control his lips from curling into a smile but then despite being the strongest sorcerer of his generation he is unable to; he was simply that happy, so happy that you reciprocated his feelings. “What color?”

“Blue like yours…So we can show everyone that I belong to you,Satoru.”

Guys I’m kinda proud of this cus even I was giggling, twirling my hair and swinging my legs writing this

#gojo imagine #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo saturo #gojo satoru imagine #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #gojo fluff

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fatuismooches · 4 months

Note

Could you please write about the Harbingers spending time with the reader on their birthdays? But maybe they send what they did with you as a letter to the Traveler like the in-game feature? :D

♡ 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬' 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ♡

synopsis: The Traveler naturally expects mail in their inbox whenever the Harbingers' birthdays roll around. However, they didn't expect it to be so... lovey-dovey, and all about you.

includes: all harbingers w/ gn! reader

notes: I've finally finished it! I've been wanting to write something similar to my voice line post for a while, so here it is - the Harbingers sending birthday mail, except they're very down bad for you :3 Includes a letter, a photograph, and attached items with the letter! (Sorry to the Pulcinella fans, I was too lazy to write him in.)

“Home…”

Sender: Pierro

It is my birthday today. Normally, I would have continued on my day as usual, but [Name] had another idea in mind, going so far as to get the Tsaritsa herself to block the door to my office and then dragging me away. It seems they were planning this for a while… The last birthday I celebrated was the year Khaenri’ah fell. What purpose did today serve when my homeland and people were gone? As the years went on, it began to slip my mind and I nearly would have forgotten the date, were it not for [Name]’s question a while ago. I thought nothing of it, but I did not think [Name] would have taken this so seriously.

They knew I would enjoy anything so long as it was with them, yet they had the entire day planned out. Claiming that I needed some fresh air, we walked through the Snezhnayan streets, the normally biting frost a bit warmer than usual. Casual browsing at some new stores that opened up. [Name]’s attempt at starting a snowball fight. And lastly… grocery shopping.

When we got back, they wouldn’t let me help or look. But I could tell from the smell exactly what they were making. It turns out that they managed to make a dish from my home country. I am not sure how they managed to get a hold of this recipe… I must have mentioned it offhandedly and they improvised from there. Of course, it’s not an exact replica, but nonetheless, it tasted delicious. Just for a few minutes, I was taken back to my previous home. That home will never come back, but I have a new one now.

And now the day is almost over. Despite their best efforts to stay awake until the end of the day, they succumbed to their sleepiness, now lying on my lap. They were supposed to read me something they made, but perhaps I’ll find out what that was tomorrow.

Tomorrow will be back to normal again. But that is alright. I still do not believe I deserve a day like today but, if this is what [Name] desires, then I shall not refuse them again. I’ll look forward to the next birthday just as they do.

Attached Photograph:

A picture is included with the letter that has Pierro and you in it. The Harbinger is seated at a table with a homemade dish in front of him. His giant coat and mask are placed off to the side, revealing scars from long ago. You’re glued to his side, trying to feed him by holding the spoon close to his mouth. Pierro is a grown man, the Traveler thinks, he does not need you to feed him… However, he looks quite content with this arrangement so the blonde won’t question it any further. In fact, he looks as if he’s right at home.

Attached Items:

Ancient Khaenri’ahn Dish [A meal unique to Khaneri’ah that has long been forgotten by the world. Although you clearly struggled to make it due to a lack of experience, even the Traveler can taste how much of your love was put into it.]

Khaenri’ahn Story Book [A book that contains numerous fairy tales and various stories originating from the lost nation, written by none other than Pierro himself, and illustrated by you. Apparently, it was born from you begging him to tell you stories from his home, and eventually, the Harbinger began to write them down so you could read them instead of bothering him so often. However, it made the problem worse as now you bother him to read them to you. How sweet.]

—

“A Day Off.”

Sender: Dottore

[Name] has convinced me to go back to Sumeru with them for a couple of days. I couldn’t care less about this day, but they were adamant about spending the whole day with me, and that they “will not be spending my birthday in a dark gloomy lab again.”

My research has regrettably halted for a bit, but I suppose this was not a bad idea. This was the first time in many years that either of us had stepped foot back into Sumeru - we had not been back since I was expelled from the Akademiya, besides my segments of course.

[Name] and I trekked the same path we used to walk during our studies at the Akademiya. It was a good spot for studying and conducting experiments without any disturbances - that was until they started following me around. They were a nuisance at first… but eventually, [Name] began to help me deconstruct a variety of machines, which was helpful. And then would laugh at me whenever I ended up breaking them.

Ever since I met them, [Name] has always said a lot of strange things, but their most recent comment was that they wanted to drink the blue liquid in the vial I carry around. They think it looks… tropical and vibrant. Of course, I refused them. But I had a feeling that if I didn’t provide them with it, they’d try and get it themselves. I was not interested in having to inject an antidote into them, so I came up with a solution.

I know that I am no chef, but this goes outside the realm of cooking. It wasn’t hard to create a sweet drink that would be to [Name]’s liking with the same color. They were more pleased than I thought and demanded that I make it for them more often. I do not care much for nourishment, but perhaps I’ll try my hand at it more often. They have insisted that I send you some, too. So, Traveler, is it to your liking as well? Even if it’s not, I do not care, so don’t bother telling me.

Attached Photograph:

A picture is included with the letter that has Dottore and you in it. Despite how much the Traveler has explored Sumeru, they can’t seem to pinpoint the location where it was taken. It must really be a secret place, just for the two of you. Dottore’s mask is on his lap, revealing crimson eyes and scarred skin. You seem to have fallen asleep on his shoulder, as your eyes are closed, though your mouth seems to be agape, perhaps mumbling some nonsense in your sleep. Dottore’s expression is exasperated, but there is a certain fondness in his eyes, one that the Traveler can’t distinguish, or rather, they refuse to believe it. Did the Kamera have an editing function now? Because surely, the photograph must have been forged or something, because there was no way The Doctor could ever have such a tender look in his eyes…

Attached Items:

Strange Blue Concoction [Some kind of legitimate drink that’s the same color as the vial Dottore carries around. According to [Name], it is quite delicious, but would any sane person dare to try anything from The Doctor of all people…? Who knows, these two might be trying to poison the blonde.]

Assortment of Ruin Guard Parts [Parts from Ruin Guards Dottore created and assembled himself. A wide variety of parts are here, including Chaos Cores, Circuits, and Devices. Wait… they seem to all be damaged and broken. Hey, did Dottore just send the Traveler his useless parts?!]

—

“Care For A Show?”

Sender: Columbina

Hello dear Traveler! How are you?~ Today has been such a wonderful day. Why, you ask? Because it’s my birthday of course! ♪ The one day when I have the ability to drag my beloved [Name] wherever I want, with no resistance. Normally they protest for quite a bit, telling me I have a mountain of work to do but, they don’t need to worry their pretty little head about that. ♫ Is it that much of a crime to slack off to spend time with one’s beloved? But oh, that little routine of ours is something that I do cherish.

My dearest [Name] took me to a play. We were among the first to see it, as it was the opening day. You know, they always tell me that as a Harbinger, I should be more conscious of how I present myself. But is it really a problem to sit in their lap instead of my chair? It’s not like anyone can see us all the way up on the balcony seats, hmm? ♬ Moving on though~ The play was quite an interesting story.

It was of an angel who fell in love with a mere human, despite how taboo it was. When the two were caught, the angel had to decide - would she rather retain their purity and remain in the heavens or fall down, stripped of her divinity to be with her human? Well, if you want to see the ending, you’ll just have to come to Snezhnaya and watch it yourself. ♪ But do tell me Traveler, if you were in a situation like that, what would you choose? … I already know what my choice would be.

Ah, but that show was not even the best part! After that, [Name] put on their own performance for me, just the two of us. It was beautiful of course, the way they convey their choice of art is always worthy of praise. But, they always seem to seek my feedback and criticism… they told me they want to keep improving to make me even more pleased but, how many times do I need to explain to them that I already believe their craft is beautiful? Nevertheless, I do indulge them, if only to satisfy my love. Why don’t you take a look at one of our collaborations, Traveler? It is quite good if I do say so myself. ♫

Attached Photograph:

A picture is included with the letter that has Columbina and you in it. The lighting in the theater is a bit dim, so your figures are a bit faded but, the Traveler can still make out the two of you. The two of you have separate chairs but, Columbina is practically spilling onto yours, her head comfortably resting against your chest. You seem as though this is normal for you, which it probably is. Wait, is Columbina sleeping? It seems she probably got bored during the intermission… That’s why you specifically chose your clothes to double as a blanket for your wife.

Attached Items:

Music Score [A music score composed by both you and Columbina. The two of you performed it perfectly together as a present to your wife. Of course, it’s bound to be mesmerizing considering Columbina’s participation. So hauntingly beautiful, that in fact, it might end your life before you get to the end… is that an exaggeration? Well, it seems like the Traveler will have to take that risk.]

Pair of Tickets [Tickets gifted to the Traveler and Paimon. There’s no name on it or any expiration date, so it can be used to watch a single play in Snezhnaya for free, with the best seats in-house, so pick carefully. These things are quite expensive, so don’t go losing them now! Otherwise, Columbina and [Name] might ban the traveling duo from the theater…]

—

“An Excellent Day.”

Sender: Capitano

Today is my birthday. However, I have never been very adept at celebrating this day. I realize that it is the norm to celebrate one’s birthday, but I have never felt the need to. Though, ever since I became a Harbinger, my recruits have always wished me well today. Unfortunately, when the bolder ones ask me what I have planned, I have nothing interesting to respond with, always prompting them to urge me to do something… In the hallways, I always hear conversations along the lines of even though being a Harbinger is busy, I deserve to do something nice on my birthday. But in reality, it does not bother me at all. Is it really that strange not to do anything on one’s birthday?

When [Name] found out how I normally spend my birthdays, they shared a similar sentiment and promised to make this one “the most eventful and fun and best one I’ve ever had.” They said that since this is our first year together, they need to make my birthday an excellent one. Although I tried to reassure them they needn’t try so hard for me, they were insistent. However, true to their word, I would say my birthday did end up being an excellent one.

One thing about [Name] is they never fail to teach me something new. In this case, they taught me what it means to celebrate a birthday, and I’d say I learned a lot. As stated by them, there is no exact or definite way to celebrate. It is what you make of it. And they, knowing the kind of man I was, chose the activities accordingly. (There were a few mishaps but everything went well for the most part. It is not customary to break a few knives while cutting cake, so I feared that I may have ruined things, but [Name] reassured me it was normal.)

So all in all, today was an excellent day. However, I am faced with a problem now. What should I do when [Name]’s birthday comes? Should I do the same thing they did for me? But would they think that is low effort and unoriginal? I do not wish to disappoint them. Traveler, do you have any ideas? Also, please ask Tartaglia for me as well. The last time I spoke to him, he tried to ask me for a duel.

Attached Photograph:

A picture is included with the letter that has Capitano and you in it. The snowy forest terrain looks as picturesque as ever, but what really draws attention is the man and his lover in the middle. Mostly, the Harbinger who has a squirrel or two perched on him, not to mention the few birds that made their nest in the fluff of his coat. And even some cats? Where did they come from?! Well, it’s best not to question it. It’s rather endearing. Rather, one should question how silent and unmoving the Captain is in an effort to not disturb all the animals. Just ignore the deer in the background waiting for some attention too.

Attached Items:

How To Celebrate Your Birthday Pamphlet [A collaboration between Capitano’s Fan Club and [Name]. The fan club loves you immensely because you help to put their long-awaited plans into action. The numerous activities in this guide (blowing out the candles, feeding each other cake, gift giving, lots of affection, etc) were written out by the club and dutifully carried out by you. There were also birthday punches, but Capitano was confused as to why you were tickling him.]

Capitano and [Name]’s Picture Book [Don’t tell anyone this, but Capitano has a tendency to name all the creatures of the forest near his mansion. At first, he went there to train, but decided against it after seeing all the animals around there, because he doesn’t want to scare them away. What he did not expect was to befriend all of them… you came across him one day talking to them after searching for him. How can he tell them apart? Even you don’t know. But this book is dedicated to all of his animal friends, with pictures taken by you of course. So if the Traveler happens to visit Snezhnaya someday, make sure to be nice to these little guys!]

—

“They’re Annoying…”

Sender: Wanderer

It is that time of year again when my birthday rolls around. You know very well I do not care much for this day, but once again, there are always annoyances at my every turn… Both Lesser Lord Kusanali and [Name] always prove to be a thorn in my side on this day. In the past, I usually spent my birthdays under the sakura trees in Inazuma, visiting [Name]. But, things have changed now. I no longer am who I once was, and my relationship with [Name] is no longer the same. They have forgotten me, and our past together… but Lesser Lord Kusanali has forced us to interact again numerous times, leading to our current relationship. Lesser Lord Kusanali always pats my back, saying that time will lead us back to each other… how irritating.

Speaking of her being irritating, she decided to tell [Name] that today was my birthday, a horrible decision. Now, they’ve run all over Sumeru looking for me, until they finally found me in the House of Daena. Panting and gasping for air, all I could hear was them sincerely apologizing over and over for not knowing my birthday. They promised they’d get me a late birthday gift, even though I kept repeating that it was unnecessary. Unfortunately, it has always been hard to get things through their thick skull. All I know for sure is that Lesser Lord Kusanali definitely planned this and that she will tease me to no end the next time I see her…

Still, they dragged me through Sumeru City. According to them, they knew I wouldn’t like anything too fancy, so they brought me to an alleyway. Your typical textbook dark and narrow one. And at the end were… cats. Many of them. [Name] turned to me with a smile and said they bet I didn’t know about this secret kitty haven, and that it was a perfect gift for someone like me. I do wonder if Sumeru’s sun has made them crazy sometimes.

But, this birthday wasn’t as boring as I thought it’d be. So… that’s nice, I guess. Actually, Lesser Lord Kusanali had assigned me a paper to write. A paper on [Name], on my own birthday. She said that she wasn’t going to read or check it, but it was for my sake. How preposterous, right? How would anything like that help me?

But tonight… I feel as though I’ll make some progress on it.

Attached Photograph:

A picture is included with the letter that has Wanderer and you in it. The puppet is at the top of the ladder in the House of Daena, searching for books (most likely forced to by the Dendro Archon), but your figure can be made out at the bottom. You seem to be waving and beckoning him to come down, so he can have a good time with you for his birthday. Wanderer doesn’t seem very excited about it, but… he will always indulge you, the person he can’t deny he loves. Hmm? Why is he using a ladder instead of his Anemo powers? Well, perhaps the puppet doesn’t like drawing attention to himself.

Attached Items:

Essay Concerning Inazuman Society and Politics [An essay Wanderer has written during his time spent in Vahumana. What, did the Traveler really think he’d send the essay he wrote about [Name]? However, Paimon couldn’t make it through the title page, and even the Traveler struggled through it. But, it seems to be your favorite essay of his, considering all the notes you made in it, not to mention the noodles you drew when you got bored… Wanderer probably scolded you for that but, it’s never in bad faith.]

Tricolor Dango [A plate of dango that [Name] brought for Wanderer as a treat. It seems that they are unaware of his dislike of sweet food… But the puppet did not want to hurt their feelings considering the thought and effort they put into his birthday, so he did not decline it.]

—

“A Lavish Tea Party.”

Sender: Sandrone

Unbeknownst to me, [Name] recently had a variety of sweets from Fontaine imported. It seemed like they tinkered with my bots once again, to get them on their side so I would remain in the dark… they can be such a hassle to deal with sometimes. However, this means that their skills are ever improving, as I’ve been improving my Automatons to be much more complex. As expected of my assistant. Speaking of, they’ve also imported some other things that I’ve been wanting for a while. Hopefully, they’re up to standard this time, or they’ll have to be returned. Ugh, I hate dealing with the Ninth whenever that happens…

Though back to the subject, it seems that [Name] has once again needlessly gone out of their way, since today is my date of birth. Although I don’t like being distracted from my research, and I see no need to waste time just because I happened to be born today, this break that [Name] has prepared for me isn’t too bad. I have not attended a proper tea party in far too long. The fools I have for agents can never set it up correctly.

[Name] is not someone who dresses up very often, but they always make the effort to match their attire with mine. Something that other people should learn from, but alas. Though, I wish they did it more often. Not even the most well-crafted doll could match their beauty. Have I told them that? No, they should be smart enough to figure that out by themselves.

Regardless, I must cut this letter short. After this, I want to work on an Automaton with [Name]. I have held off on it because they have expressed interest in it, and since we are together now, it is the perfect time to work on it. I was expecting them to get huffy at me working today, but it seems that they are pleased to work with me. I wonder why.

Attached Photograph:

A picture is included with the letter that has Sandrone and you in it. A wide array of treats and sweets are plated on numerous platters, along with ceramic tea cups waiting to be filled with piping hot tea. The surrounding robots are also fashioned in a similar style as her, perfect attire for the tea party, holding additional trays of desserts. (Can these robots eat too?) You’re pouring your wife her favorite kind of tea as you’ve already set her plate, while she sits patiently with her hands folded. Despite Sandrone’s doll-like features, one can see a small smile on her face.

Attached Items:

Instructions For A Perfect Tea Party [Sandrone’s set of instructions as to how a perfect tea party is conducted. Some of the rules seem nonsensical and impossible to many, which is why no Fatui agent can ever live up to the Harbinger’s expectations, as she will not accept anything less than what she desires. However, you are the only person who has managed to fulfill all the rules to a tee, which is one of the reasons she greatly favors you. Sending this list to the Traveler and Paimon is also her way of saying they are never invited as they will never be able to fulfill the rules in a way that satisfies her… how rude!]

Clockwork Toy of Sandrone [A Harbinger toy from Leschots Clockwork Workshop in Fontaine. They seem to have dabbled in making toys of the Harbingers as they said they would, and who better to start with than the machinery genius herself? Of course, Sandrone can point out numerous flaws with the design and components, and probably criticized it heavily to you, but you still seem to love it, because it’s of her! Unfortunately, your wife doesn’t like that very much… why settle for something inferior when you could have it in much higher quality? So the Harbinger decided to make a toy of herself that lives up to her standard. The Traveler can have the faulty one…]

—

“Another Year Passes…”

Sender: La Signora

In the past, I used to be quite fond of birthdays. In Mondstadt, I would always celebrate it with him every year. But after he died, birthdays left a bitter taste in my mouth, and I never dared think about doing anything on this day ever again. How could I, when he was no longer by my side? But today is my birthday again, and I find myself happy. Why? Because of [Name], the person who taught me how to love again. Admittedly, I pushed away the idea at first. But after some more reflection, I decided it wouldn’t be fair to [Name]. The past is the past, and the present is the present. If [Name] wants to make me feel special on my birthday, then who am I to stop them?

And indeed they did pamper me. They always pamper me but, today it was much more than normal. Breakfast in bed, massages, hair brushing, helping me put on my clothes, opening doors for me, fancy dinner and wine after work. I don’t think there was a single moment where they weren’t trying to do something for me. It gave me a good chuckle, which made them embarrassed. But truly, it made me happy. I had… forgotten what it feels like to be cared for on my birthday. It’s a foreign feeling but, I hope that the foreignness eventually goes away after some time.

However, I must tell them that there’s no need to overexert themselves just because it is my birthday. Although I do enjoy the extra treatment, it does neither of us any good for them to fall asleep before the night is even over. But, that’s okay. There is always next year, yes?

Attached Photograph:

A picture is included with the letter that has Signora and you in it. You are fast asleep on the Fair Lady’s lap, a peaceful expression on your face. A similar one is on Signora’s, as there is no one else around, and she can let her guard down around you. There are a few of her flame moths scattered around the room as well, a few on the two of you. As her blonde hair spills onto your face and body, one can only guess what she is thinking.

Attached Items:

Tea Break Pancakes [Despite Signora’s history with her home nation, it’s said that she still enjoys the cuisine from there. So, you like to cook her food from there whenever you can. It might not be as good as a professional’s but it provides her a taste of home. A taste of your love, which is her favorite flavor.]

Rose [It’s no secret that roses are Signora’s favorite flower. Beautiful yet thorny, alluring yet dangerous. There are many kinds of roses with all sorts of meanings in this world, but you two have been seen exchanging only one kind - a red one. Whatever could it mean?]

—

“Birthdays…”

Sender: Pantalone

When I was a child, birthdays did not mean much to me. After all, how could one focus on their date of birth when it seemed like life was full of nothing but curses and suffering? It was only another day of working to survive. But when I met [Name], they changed that. With them, the day began to have… meaning. Purpose. It wasn’t anything grand, but they made it special, distracting me from another day of poverty. Even with their meager earnings, they never failed to gift me something, even if it was of little to no value, or not the best quality… I cherished it. No one else had ever thought of me so much. When I look back, every time my birthday came around again, my love for them only grew more.

Now that we are adults, my only wish is to repay their kindness and spoil them with as many gifts as they deserve. However, there are a few issues with this. There are times I find myself more disappointed with the world than usual because it has yet to create something that would be a suitable gift that would be on par with my love for my dear [Name]. However, whenever my spouse gifts me something, their thoughtfulness never ceases to amaze me. How is it that they always manage to gift me something wonderful and touching? When I questioned them about this, they raised an eyebrow and gave me a strange look. It seems that I will not learn their secret anytime soon. How unfortunate.

Not to mention, dearest [Name] gets upset when I spend “ludicrous amounts of money” (their words) on them, especially on my birthday, so they’ve “forbidden” me from doing so today. They are rather persistent on this, and their long lectures and expressions are rather amusing, so I’ll indulge them… for now. Do you think they realize I’ll just spend double the amount the next day? Regardless, birthdays are always well spent with [Name], and I plan to enjoy this one fully, just as I have in the past because they are the one who makes my birthday a day worth celebrating.

Attached Photograph:

A picture is included with the letter that has Pantalone and you in it. The two of you are taking a walk in Snezhnaya, browsing stores and the like. Even though it is Pantalone’s birthday, he seems insistent on trying to buy out a few stores for you once again… so in order to prevent him from doing that, you’ve hidden yourself in his coat, stopping him from walking properly. The Harbinger seems rather entertained by your antics and your head popping out of his coat… he should make you do this more often. It’s perfect for head pats.

Attached Items:

Pantalone’s Spare Change [As it is his birthday, Pantalone is feeling more generous than usual, so he is sending a bit of funds to the Traveler. There is no need for any repayment, take it as a symbol of the Fatui’s goodwill. (However, it would do good to proceed with caution… this is the Ninth, after all.) Opening it up, the duo expects to see an average amount of money, but instead are presented with a couple of million Mora… if this is what Pantalone is willing to send to the Traveler, how much does he spend on [Name]?! Paimon doesn’t want to imagine the number!]

[Name]’s Guide to Gift Giving [A piece written by you to detail how you always choose the best gift for Pantalone, unbeknownst to your husband. Opening it up, the Traveler is very curious as to how you manage to win over the Harbinger every time, a man who has everything he could possibly want at his fingertips. But instead, only one sentence is written on the paper - “I don’t know how I do it either.”]

—

“Appreciation.”

Sender: Arlecchino

Birthdays were not very much celebrated in the House of Hearth, especially when the former Knave was around. However, that changed when [Name] came along. Years ago, I still remember when they gifted Lynette her first tea cup set. Freminet, a collection of spare parts that he ended up using to make another clockwork toy. And probably the biggest hassle… gifting little Lyney a white rabbit. However, I do appreciate my lover’s efforts. The children always look forward to their birthdays much more now, some even going as far as to drop hints about their desired gift and give puppy eyes to [Name] when the time rolls around. I have to remind my children not to get greedy, and to be grateful for what they already have…

I also remember the first birthday they gifted me something as well. A part of me expected it, considering the way they behaved, but still, it was an… unfamiliar feeling, to be gifted something. And, it was also the day little Lyney and Lynette presented their first amateur magic show to me. Of course, they had much to improve on, but looking back it was a suitable birthday gift, considering how much I’ve seen the two grow now. Needless to say, I appreciate [Name] very much, for what they have given me and my children.

My birthday has come once more, and [Name] is celebrating it as they always feel the need to. Really, even if they did nothing, I would still appreciate it, considering all they’ve done. The sweets they gathered this time were exceptional, and we had a lovely chat, before taking a walk through Fontaine. They say that the flowers that grow in the wild are always the prettiest, especially the Rainbow Roses.

Ah, last of all, if you could do me a favor, that would be greatly appreciated. You have been in Fontaine for a while now, yes? It would be a great help to me if you could point me to some good operas. [Name] and I have watched many in Snezhnaya, however, we don’t often have the chance to watch any in Fontaine, with our work and all. Thank you. And please, do not bore me or waste my time.

Attached Photograph:

A picture is included with the letter that has Arlecchino and you in it. You two are sitting in a field in Fontaine somewhere, with Rainbow Roses to the side. One of them has been tucked into the Harbinger’s hair, while you seem to be focusing on creating… a flower crown? Despite the pinkness of the rose greatly contrasting with Arlecchino’s whole dark red, black, and white look, she seems to not mind your antics and waits patiently for you to complete your work of art. Of course, as a Fontainian, she knows very well what Rainbow Roses symbolize, and won’t turn down the physical manifestation of your feelings.

Attached Items:

List of Yummy Hidden Gems [A list of great places to buy sweets from in Fontaine, courtesy of [Name], passed on by Arlecchino. Sure, Hotel Debord and Café Lutece do have some excellent sweets, but there are many hidden restaurants and bakeries that provide delicious treats as well! Do stop by and give them a try. Arlecchino favors many of their products. If one needs a similar list for the other nations, do tell.]

Slice of Birthday Cake [An exquisite slice of cake cut from Arlecchino’s birthday cake. She doesn’t care much for the tradition, but [Name] always buys one anyway as an excuse to treat the children from the House to something nice. You know you shouldn’t spoil them so much, but you can’t help it!]

—

“Splash!”

Sender: Tartaglia

Hey comrade! How have you been? Sorry if my handwriting isn’t the best. I sparred with [Name] for my birthday, and they really roughed me up. Not that I mind, I asked them to go all out. Normally they don’t like fighting with me, because they always insist they don’t like hurting me, but they couldn’t say no to me today. You know, I would like to see the two of you fight. It would be an exhilarating experience.

But anyway, after they patched me up, we took a dive in Fontaine’s waters! You know, whenever I visit Liyue, we often go to cool off in Yaoguang Shoal, but Fontaine’s oceans are so much different. The scenery, the terrain, the greenery, the wildlife… good thing I bought them a waterproof Kamera. Speaking of wildlife, [Name] and I befriended a blubberbeast. [Name] instantly fell in love with the creature, and I feel as though they gave a bit too much attention to it, but, seeing them smile is the best gift I could ever ask for. Maybe I should gift them a plushie of it? However, it is a bit amusing that something that looks as defenseless as that could pack such a punch!

Did you know this, Traveler? Apparently, Romaritime Flowers represent loyalty. [Name] gifted me a bouquet which I was initially confused about since I usually give them flowers instead. But after some quick research, these flowers mean unbreaking oaths. It was a bit ironic really, for I should have gifted them instead as I always swore to be loyal to them, my family, and the Tsaritsa, but it was a wonderful gift. Not to mention the delicious meal they prepared. They’ve been busy researching the best Fontaine recipes for me, so I could make them for Teucer and the others back home, but maybe I should just drag them to Snezhnaya so they could do it instead… I never leave anything but empty plates whenever [Name] cooks for me, but they’ve packaged some for you too, Traveler!

Next time we fight at the Golden House, I’ll bring [Name] along too. Do you think you can hold your own against both of us at the same time?

Attached Photograph:

A picture is included with the letter that has Childe and you in it. You two are under the sea, with a Blubberbeast between the two of you. The creature is nudging you while Childe looks on amused. It seems that it’s been begging for some more attention, food, and head pats. Maybe some tummy rubs too. Apparently, you named it Big Cutie, because well… it’s a big cutie! Unfortunately, it seems to have a little bit of a grudge against the Harbinger because he accidentally attacked it.

Attached Items:

[Name]’s Special Macarons [Rainbow Macarons but with a special twist from [Name]. On the top and bottom of the sweet treat are… faces? Very detailed ones too, with colored hair and eyes! Ah, the faces are none other than [Name], Childe, Teucer, and all of his other siblings! Oh, and macarons of Traveler and Paimon were made as well, how kind! Childe says they’re quite delicious, and he is a great cook, so they must be.]

Freshly Caught Fish [Fish caught by Childe. It seems that the two lovers also went fishing after diving a bit, as one knows how much Childe loves to fish. Sadly, your fishing skills still pale in comparison compared to his and you barely caught anything… That’s alright though! No matter how long it takes, he’ll always happily help you hone your skills!]

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hearts4renaa · 11 months

Text

YOU'RE LOSING ME.

summary: how the love began to die out between you and them. featuring kamisato ayato, alhaitham, diluc, and zhongli. gn! reader (see a/n below) pt. 2 here w/c: 2.1k words in total a/n: inspired by the new vault track from midnights by taylor swift. meant to be a gender neutral reader but one of the lyrics i reference uses "her". otherwise, no pronouns used.

And I wouldn’t marry me either, a pathological people pleaser, who only wanted you to see her.

“I’ll be entering an arranged marriage to the daughter of another clan.” Ayato said matter of factly, as if it was as casual as discussing the weather. Today was the off day Ayato had free. He’s been so busy the past month that he barely has time for you. You can’t even remember the last time the two of you woke up together. He always slept late and woke up earlier than you. The affection was rarely there too; The usual loving kisses and cuddles were reduced to pecks on the cheek and pats on the arm. This was one of the rare times you were actually able to sit down with him.

The air was tense, almost impossible to breathe in. What was supposed to be a romantic dinner quickly turned sour the moment Ayato announced a piece of news you never wanted to hear. “I’ll be meeting her in two weeks. I’m expecting the marriage ceremony to take place within the next three months or so.” He wasn’t looking at you, instead more focused on the food in front of him. Your chopsticks fall from your hands, the clatter piercing the silence between you two. Ayato looks at you, completely deadpanned. You take the moment to really, truly look at him. His expression was standoffish, and his eyes were dispassionate. Just where did that loving gaze go? “What?” He asks.

“Ayato, you can’t just expect me to be happy about this.” You huff in frustration, picking up your chopsticks and setting them down in a proper manner. “When you accepted the proposal, did you just forget about our relationship? About me?”

Ayato rolled his eyes and sighed. “You’re acting like I declared undying love for her. I’m simply doing what’s best for the clan, and for Inazuma as a whole.” He puts down his chopsticks as well, clearly not focused on eating anymore. “It’s not like I’m ending things with you. Marrying her opens many opportunities I can’t pass on.”

“You’re not ending things with me, but you’re just gonna go off and marry some girl?” Your heart broke a little more with every word. If someone were to listen closely, they could probably hear each individual crack. “Ayato, our relationship has already been wavering a little…you’re so busy. It’s like you just can’t fit me into your schedule.” Your eyes start to become glossy, and you need to swallow back your tears to fight against them falling. “How can I expect us to stay together when you need to make room for two spouses now? I thought love meant more to you than business did.” Your voice cracked with every syllable that fell from your lips.

Ayato stood up from his seat on the floor, adjusting his sleeves and beginning to make his way to the door. He slides it open before stopping in place. “Marrying her has a lot to offer.” He speaks, but he isn’t even looking at you.

“And I don’t?” You ask. You didn’t even know if you wanted the answer to that. Luckily for you, he didn’t answer at all. He looked back at you from over his shoulder. He takes a breath, and you feel as if he’s stealing the air straight out of your lungs. He turns his head back and sighs. He steps forward, leaving the room.

The door shuts, and you are left in silence.

And I’m fading, thinking: Do something babe, say something.

With Alhaitham being appointed as Acting Grand Sage, it’s only natural that his workload for the Akademiya would increase. However, if there’s one thing that Alhaitham truly hates, it’s when unnecessary work piles up and begins to leak into his personal life, like a bucket overflowing with water. A work-life balance can only go so far before work begins to completely tilt the scale in its favor. Naturally, this takes away from time the two of you could spend together.

Normally, that would be completely fine with you. You knew Alhaitham was a busy man with a busy lifestyle. It’s completely reasonable for him to not throw aside his work just for you. Alhaitham always tries to make time for you, to show you his affection in small ways that don’t take up too much time. Either with tea he makes for you before he leaves for work, small trinkets that begin to appear on your bedside table, or a hushed declaration of love when he accidentally wakes you up when he rises early. But recently, his efforts have been slowly dwindling. You no longer wake up to the smell of tea. You no longer reach over to your nightstand in a sleepy haze, only to feel an object that was not there before. You no longer hear an “I love you” amongst the sound of your bedsheets ruffling in the early hours of the morning.

Of course, you noticed. So you took it amongst yourself to try and do something to express your love. You usually go to sleep before him, but here you are in the living room, waiting for him to return. It’s already quite late, and you fight back a yawn every twenty minutes or so, but you’re determined to stay awake to greet him. The smell of his favorite food wafts in from the kitchen, and you smile while thinking of his reaction. You might not be a Michelin star chef, but you pour love into everything you make him.

Finally, the door opens, and there he is. His eyes are tired, and an annoyed expression is etched onto his face. “Hey, honey.” You shoot up from your seat to greet him at the door. His head snaps in your direction slightly, not expecting you to still be awake. He lets out a little grunt as a response. You can tell he’s in a bad mood, but you keep pushing. “You’re home late.” You state before realizing how you pointed out the painfully obvious.

“I always am.” His voice is monotone, cold. He walks straight past you, barely even sparing you a glance.

Your hope begins to falter, but you try again. “Are you hungry? I made you dinner.” You reach your hand out to lightly touch his. He pulls his hand away with no hesitation. You feel the familiar sting deep in your stomach, and you try your best to ignore it. You clear your throat as if to rid the moment of his past action before speaking again. “Then, maybe we could eat together-”

He groans aloud. “Can you just be quiet?” He snaps. His voice wasn’t angry. It wasn’t filled with love or hate. It was indifference, and in all honesty, that hurt so much more. “I’m exhausted. The last thing I need today is you nagging me.”

You falter, as if you were shrinking away in a desperate attempt to try and disappear. “Right.” Your voice is quiet, meek. “Of course.” You turn away to walk into the kitchen, and you hear your shared bedroom door slam shut. You sit at the dinner table, gazing at the untouched meals on the opposite ends. Your hand moves to touch the spoon and stir it around in the food, but any outsider could tell that you have no intention of eating a single bite.

For the rest of the night, you sit there alone as the food goes cold.

Lose something babe, risk something. (You’re losing me.)

If there’s one thing Diluc strives to do, it’s protect you. He lost his father already, he can’t risk losing you too. It brings him peace to know that you’re safe at Dawn Winery, away from things that can bring you harm. But even though he is protective, it’s not as though he keeps you locked inside the house. He knows of your adventurous spirit and he would never want to hurt you. However, he has a habit of being a little paranoid. The people of Mondstadt are aware of your relationship, but he rarely lets the two of you be seen together. He prefers things quite private, but you’re starting to get a little sick of it.

You just returned from a small commission; it’s been ages since you’ve done one. It felt so refreshing to wield your weapon and go on a mini adventure! Even if it was just a few slimes near Windrise, the experience was one you haven’t had in far too long. You end up with a small cut on your hand, but you look at it in pride as you walk back to the winery. You open the heavy door, and you’re met with the face of your lover.

“Y/N, where were you?” Diluc’s question is loud, his voice laced in concern. A second barely passes, and he’s already by your side. He catches sight of your hand and cages it in his larger ones. “Why is your hand hurt?”

You shake him off lightly, heading to the couch to set your things down. “I took a small commission.” You explain. “Just a little group of slimes. My hand got cut, but I’m okay. Don’t worry about it!” You attempt to reassure him, but the crease in his eyebrows doesn't go away.

“Y/N, how many times have I told you?” Diluc scolded. He folds his arms over his chest. “You don’t need to take commissions. I provide for us enough already.”

Your eyes roll before you can stop them. You can feel your frustration rise inside you. “I didn’t take the commission for the money, Diluc.” You huff at him. “I wanted an adventure, even if it was a small one. It’s the experience I wanted.”

Diluc scoffs. “Oh, so getting hurt is an enjoyable experience for you?” Diluc never had the most friendly tone, but you’d have to be truly clueless to miss the sarcasm weaved into his words.

“By the Seven, Diluc, it was a cut!” You exclaim. “All of this over a cut?”

He looks you in the eyes. “You know I just want you to be safe.”

Your eyes softened slightly, biting your lip. “But Diluc, you play it too safe sometimes.” You grab your weapons and bag again, adjusting your jacket before heading towards the door. Despite just getting home, you felt the need to get away, to cool off. Maybe to kill some other monsters, you weren’t sure.

“Where are you going?” He asks.

“Out.” You respond curtly. You weren’t sure of your destination, but you didn’t care. You just needed to be away from him.

“Y/N-“ He called out. You cut him off by slamming the heavy winery doors.

Choose something babe, I’ve got nothing to believe, unless you’re choosing me.

“I love you.” Zhongli murmured, knuckles turning white with how hard he was gripping his pole arm. He towered over you, who was on the ground in a pool of blood. The metallic smell was hard to ignore. “I love you, I truly do. And I always will.”

You laugh bitterly. “You love me, and you caused my injury.” You use your hand to weakly gesture towards your torso. “Some love you have…”

Zhongli grips his weapon even harder. He digs the heels of his feet into the group as an effort to ground himself. He knew that if he were to take a single step, he’d run to you, and he’s not sure if he can stop himself. He takes a breath to calm himself, and every breath of air he breathes makes him wish he could breathe that same life into you instead. “It’s for my nation.” He says as calmly as he can. Oh, how he wished he could run to you, kiss you, and heal you. He continues with bated breath. “You know I cherish my nation.”

You cough, blood splattering out. “More than you cherish me?” You ask weakly. “More than you cherish us?”

Zhongli’s eyes soften with sadness. “Yes…more than I cherish you, my love.”

You sigh, suddenly feeling the fatigue hit you like a truck. You’re so tired. So, so tired. You voice out your thoughts. “I’m exhausted, Zhongli.” Your voice is weak, along with your body.

“I’m sorry.” He says before facing away from you. He can’t bear to look at you in this state. He can’t bear to see what he’s done to you. He takes slow steps away, using all his willpower to not turn around and run to your side.

“I love you, Zhongli.” You call out.

He takes one final look. “I love you too, dearest.”

A sad, soft smile etches itself onto your face. Your eyelids droop, and eventually, they flutter closed. Zhongli stares at you sadly. His weapon drops to the ground, making a loud clatter. The silence is deafening. He peers at your lifeless body before closing his eyes. “You’ll always be my favorite story.” He whispers.

A single tear falls from his eyes.

#genshin x reader #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #alhaitham x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #genshin angst #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #al haitham x reader

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inkdrinkerworld · 6 months

Note

touchy!bestfriend!james laying his head in readers lap while they’re reading and asks r to read out loud to him and it’s just so fluffy and sweet with a bit of two idiots in love who don’t know they’re in love ? or if you wanna keep it purely platonic i love that too<3

You’re reading a ‘fall’ type of book when James gets home.

It’s a little aged down, and a twist on an Agatha Christie book slash her life, but it’s going so good that you can’t put it down.

“Whatya’ reading, angel?” James is opening a packet of fruit gummies as he flops into the seat beside you.

“My Aggie Morton book! I’m on chapter five and it’s already going super well,” you say excitedly, and James smiles.

“Yeah? Read me some?”

You shut the book halfway and look at him. James had just had a day full of classes and he looks a little worn out.

“Are you sure? Don’t you want to go sleep?” James shakes his head, his head falling to your lap. He twists and turns and arranges you so you’re laying with your legs open.

“Nope, want you to catch me up on Aggie,” his head lays on your stomach and his hands curl and weave through your thighs before he starts eating his fruit snacks.

“Okay Jamie, close your eyes okay?” James shuts them but continues eating, listening quietly as you begin to recount Aggie’s murder suspect pool that seems to be dwindling.

It doesn’t take long for one of your hands to fall to his hair, combing through his thick, inky tresses.

“Angel, you’re gonna make me fall asleep.” His voice is low and slurred and you smile.

“S’okay Jamie, if you fall asleep I’ll wait for you to finish it off.”

He’s snoring in no time, hands locked on your thighs, thumbs dragging across the skin even as he sleeps.

#jamespotter #james potter #james potter one shot #james potter fanfiction #james potter imagine #james potter fluff #james potter drabble #james potter fic #james potter x reader #james potter x black!reader #james potter x you #james potter x yn #james potter headcanon

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pandoraslxna · 5 months

Text

Too close to the sun

adult Ao’nung x female metkayina reader x adult Neteyam

Words: 10.6k

Summary: Ao’nung loved you as Icarus loved the sun- too close, too much.

Warnings: explicit smut, mmf threesome, ooc Neteyam, biting, p in v, oral, toxic behavior, jealousy, possessive behavior, best friends with benefits, fake dating, angst, one sided love, double penetration, anal

Adult Neteyam / Ao‘nung art by the amazing @cinetrix 🩵

Notes: I was aiming for porn and it got emotional my bad

Translation:

Tsawke = sun

Sevin = pretty

Paskalin = honey

"Everyone knows the story of Icarus, who Daedalus warned not to fly too near to the sea, nor too close to the sun.

Have caution, they are saying, because when they tell you this story they are Daedalus.

Have caution, I am saying, because when I tell you this story, you are Ikarus and I am the sun."

— ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ —

Ao’nung wasn’t always in love with you. And there’s nothing he wishes more, than for the time to come back where he wasn’t. That time, before that dumb arrangement.

It was a double edged sword.

It wasn't so much a friends with benefits arrangement as it was a assured destruction. Because Ao’nung hadn’t known what he was agreeing to.

“Nungy, would you do me a favour?”

 You see, spending every possible second with you has taught Ao’nung to be cautious, to pick up on those minuscule changes in your voice, in your eyes. And the way you called him by this silly little nickname made goosebumps break out over his skin, because whenever you blinked up at him with those big doe eyes and that innocent little smile and then called him nungy, he knew that there was something that you wanted and he also knew that there was no way he could ever deny you.

 “I’ll do you one too,” you promised, tilting your head, a mischievous smile tugging on the corner of your lips. Oh, you little…

 “…alright. What do you want now, hm?”

 Looking back, Ao’nung realizes that this was his first mistake. His next mistake was not getting up and running when you grinned at him like he was some prey that just walked into your trap. His biggest mistake, however, was not saying no when you proposed this strange arrangement.

"Please pretend that you… that you want me. That there’s something between us. Just for a while nungy, please. Maybe that would make him jealous, would make him realize that he wants me too."

 Or maybe he made the first mistake long before that. Maybe his biggest mistake was to befriend that little girl he made fun of, twenty years ago. Or maybe it was making fun of you in the first place. Maybe he should’ve never picked on you, should’ve never made you cry, maybe he should’ve never went to you and apologize, because he has never apologized to anyone else ever before. Maybe he shouldn’t have blushed like an idiot when you accepted his apology, swung your little arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug, told him it was okay. Maybe, just maybe, he should’ve never made the girl cry that then accepted his apology so unconditionally that Ao’nung swore he would never let anything bad happen to you ever again, because you were the first person to accept him as he is, that could see through his façade and saw something good. Something worth to be loved.

He hadn’t known that he was agreeing to losing himself and becoming inseparable from you. Or maybe he had, he’d already known he needed you like his lungs needed air to breathe when it was just friendship between the two of you. He just hadn’t counted on how much his own helplessness to the whole situation would drive him crazy. How it would only be a matter of time before you sunk beneath his bones and nurtured this deep seated familiarity into a love so fierce that he would question if he had ever truly been in love before you came along.

But your love was directed to someone else.

Every single nerve-ending burned with the desire to haul a fist over and slam it into his face. It was on the verge of painful just to hold his muscles tightly still whenever he was around. If he did anything to this piece of shit, Ao’nung knew he would be the one to get punished for it.

Neteyam. He’s the one his tsawke was so head over heels for. The omatikaya prince that grew roots on his island a couple of years ago when his family sought otulu within his clan.

Ao’nung knew you had your eyes on him ever since you took part in training him for his second iknimaya with the metkayina. But he didn’t deserve your kindness. Neteyam didn’t deserve any of the things you did for him, the things you still do. Not with the way he had that filthy grin on his face when his eyes roamed your body. Not with the way he acted all innocent and kind in front of others, but his true nature made Ao’nung scrunch his nose in disgust.

Neteyam just wasn’t a good guy. Sure, he had this special talent in making others believe that he was, but he certainly wasn’t.

You’ve spent years trying to get his attention with courting gifts, fleeting touches and seductive words. But while Neteyam seemingly tried to leave his filthy fingertips on every women in the village, he barely paid you any mind. Just enough though, once in a while, to keep you wanting him, keep you on edge. Like this was all just a fun little game to him.

But what shocked Ao’nung most was, that you knew. You knew that he was a flirt, knew that he slept around, knew that he was playing with you, kept your hopes up for years on end but never returned any of these feelings or kind gestures to you and yet you still couldn’t peel your eyes away from him. It made his blood boil, because how could a smart little thing like you be so blind, so dumb to fall for him, of all people?

Truth be told, Ao’nung wasn’t even sure if part of the reason he agreed to any of this was that he was hoping it would work. Ao’nung was hoping this would get Neteyam jealous, he was hoping this would hurt him as much as it hurt you to find him flirting with another woman yet again, to find him wearing the bracelet you made while his hand was buried between another woman’s thighs. Yes, Ao’nung hoped it would hurt him. Even if he was hurting himself on the way.

But by eywa, could hurting himself feel any better?

The first time he gave in to you was intense. It left you with a noticeable, unplaceable stiffness in your walk the next morning, but aching to have him again. Ao’nung found himself unable to lean his weight fully against anything for three days, his muscles sore, feeling thicker than usual. There were gouges from your nails in his back, bruises from his hands on your body, marks from his teeth everywhere they could possibly cover. Marks that were normally meant for no one to see, yet you displayed them like they were art, meant to be noticed, to be seen.

"Louder, tsawke. Let him hear you."

He doesn’t know what drives him more insane. The feeling of your walls clamping down around his cock, squeezing him so painfully tight it felt like he might come undone at any second. Or the knowledge that you were doing this only now that he had mentioned him. Not that it actually mattered.

A wet rhythmic smack of flesh against flesh filled the air in your marui. Ao’nungs hands were at your hips in a tight grasp, your cheek shoved against the ground, ass high in the air as he pounded into you.

"Let him hear how good I’m making you feel", he whispered against the shell of your ear. "Moan my name."

Selfish, yes.

But you just sound so sweet when you gasp his name like that, with that whiny tone in your voice that’s halfway muffled into the sheets, little punched out moans garnishing the whole thing before his cock started throbbing inside you.

He made sure Neteyam heard every little noise you made, every moan, every whimper and every filthy squelch of his cock drilling into your wet heat. Ao’nung made sure he heard all of it. You were his, he let himself believe. Even if it was just for now, just for this.

"Ao’nung!" The name rolled off your tongue as a whimper, a gasp, followed by a choked-off moan as he gripped your hips and pressed himself closer against you, buried his face into the crook of your neck and lapped at the bite marks that he only recently put there.

Anyone could claim their mate with a courting gift, he thought proudly, sucking yet another hickey into your throat as he simultaneously trusted into you. But these bites and hickeys, they were an art that required precise observation from their presenter and the complete trust from their acceptor.

These weren’t cold, lifeless symbols of affection, no. You couldn’t just take them off. But they had short lifespans, often only a few days, a week if he was lucky. And this gave him the opportunity to continue to give you new ones over and over, of different sizes, shapes and colors; and if he didn't feel like putting them on your throat, then he could put them on your breasts, your hips, on your wrists, your shoulders or your thighs.

Your entire body was an available canvas for these markings and he took great advantage of this.

Ao’nung liked having the ability to move them and create new ones as the old faded and disappeared. He liked having the opportunity to accept and receive his own markings when your old ones had once again retreated from sight.

They were profoundly intimate, a powerful symbol that was physically felt each and every time it was given to an extent that any other courting gift never would be.

— ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ —

Yesterday night’s memories were still pretty much livid in front of his minds eye as Ao’nung not so subtle failed to listen to his so called friends about whatever they were talking about.

Nothing they weren’t used to. It’s not like he had ever actively participated in a conversation that wasn’t about him, anyways. And it’s not like he cares much about what that says about him. Ao’nung knows these guys aren’t really his friends. At least not like you are. They’re more like his goons, brainless little minions that have been following him around and would listen to every one of his orders since the day they found out he will be the next olo’eyktan. He’s almost certain that they wouldn’t stick to him if it weren’t for this fact.

Gentle waves rock him back and forth on his tsurak, the morning sun casting a warm glow over the vast ocean, his spear-gun strapped to his back as they wait for the rest of the hunting party to join them.

Ao’nung doesn’t need a mirror to know that he must’ve looked like he was ready to commit a crime when some of the younger hunters were accompanied by the Sully brothers, and he wonders which of these skxawngs had invited them so he knew which of them to exile from any hunts for the next month or so.

Neteyam greets the others first as he approches, polite as ever, but there’s a knowing, dirty little grin reserved just for him as he turns in his direction to reach a hand out for him to shake, like they’re friends. Ao’nung fights the urge to scoff and roll his eyes at that.

Reaching their chosen spot, he then signals the other hunters to prepare their fishing spears and nets. Each of them take their position, their eyes keenly scanning the water's surface for any sign of movement, while some others submerge into the deeper water.

However, Ao’nungs own eyes are unfocused. He has a hard time concentrating on anything other than that insufferable forest boy swimming only mere inches away from him. Like letting his five fingered freak of a brother participate wasn’t already enough of an insult to his warriors pride. No, now there were two of these demon spawns here with him. He knew Neteyam wasn’t even doing anything particular annoying, yet it felt like he was taunting him with every breath he took.

It was as if he could sense his thoughts, because a shadow suddenly casts over the spot Ao’nung had aimed his spear to, making it impossible for him to see through the waters surface. Looking up, Ao‘nung is then met with a pair of golden eyes and sharp teeth grinning back at him.

Any complain about Neteyam blocking out the sun so the man would hopefully move and bother someone else dies on his tongue, the moment his gaze lands on the shiny pearl that’s dangling over his shoulder, tidily braided into a strand of ink-black hair.

Ao’nung would probably recognize this white pearl everywhere. He was with you the day you had found the shell, had watched you crave and polish it for hours. He had wordlessly sat besides you, pondering if you even realized that a similar pearl garnished his songcord as a reminder of the day he had met you. That he had once sat where you sat, spent hours working in concentration to crave the pearl from such a filigree shell that his hands were hurting for days, hoping you would return the gesture to him one day.

"Neat, huh?" The omatikaya smiles, but it’s not a genuine one, before he brushes through his braids and twirls the pearl between his fingertips. It makes Ao’nung snap out of his thoughts, and he’s quick to advert his gaze to the sun, secretly hoping it will burn his eyes so he would never have to look at it on him again.

He just hums, barely a coherent response. While he wants to agree, simply for the fact that you had made it, he would also rather die than compliment the demons son. And he knows Neteyam just want to force a reaction out of him, so he chose to end the conversation right here and wordlessly swims a little further, where he then aims his spear to the waters surface, targeting a fish with precision and—

"Almost as pretty as the little thing that made it for me." Neteyam squints his eyes at him as he chuckles, and this time his amusement is sincere. Aimed to hit a nerve.

With a swift motion, Ao'nung hurles his spear into the water, but it completely misses the shimmery fish that had caught his eyes.

He turns to glare at the man that’s practically begging to be the next target. His Tsurak growls, making the water around him vibrate as it feels the anger radiating off his rider through the bond.

"I didn’t mean to insult you", Neteyam laughs and shakes his head, holding his hands up in surrender. "You two are awfully close, no?"

With a sigh, he regains his composure, takes a deep breath and, afraid that whatever might come out of his mouth would only start something that wouldn’t do him good, simply choose to nod instead, his eyebrows still drawn together tightly. Neteyams grin still hasn’t vanished, yet he seems to mimic the way Ao’nungs spine had straightened, which in return made him feel like he was under interrogation.

"How come I still haven’t seen any courting gifts on her then? Whatever it is called that you have with her, is that some kind of arrangement or…?"

"Nothing that should concern you, forest boy", he cuts him off.

"Hmh, right." Neteyam nods and Ao’nung can’t help but pray to eywa that this would finally be the end of this uncomfortable conversation. Unfortunately, it is not, as the forest boy then swims a little closer, his voice low as he says, "Well, by the sound of the moans you knock out of her", a look comes over Neteyams face, and it sickens him to realize it was arousal. "I may have to try my hand at her sometime too, just to see what all the fuss is about. Seems like she loves to spread her thighs for just anyone."

Ao’nung balled his fists, and ground his teeth together so hard, he was almost certain he could hear a crack. It took every last ounce of energy not to lunge at him.

Neteyams words whispered over and over and over in his head, a rolling loop that he thought might actually drive him insane.

— ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ —

Never had left him a hunting trip so tense before, Ao’nung realized, sighing as he lowered himself into the water. It was warm and relaxing, soothing his tense muscles and the ache he felt.

He seemed to get like this a lot lately, feeling stressed and tense and trying harder than ever to will himself to sleep, to concentrate and to stop thinking about this. But it was impossible. Ao’nung found his mind going back to the same problem over and over again and he found worry and jealousy rising in the pit of his gut more and more.

It had been some time since his last visit to the hot springs in the center of the island, and at least the waters were soothing on his overworked body. Not to mention the way your hands were gently running over his shoulders, as you positioned yourself to straddle his lap.

The hot spring was large, a natural pool that sat surrounded by smooth stones, leaving the air here steamy and considerably warmer than the rest of the forest. A popular spot to bath for the metkayina, but tonight it was calm and empty.

Long, ropy vines hung low and mingled with purple leafy plants above him. Bountiful beds of marigold, azure, blazing red, and creamy orange blossoms lined the space that the pool inhabited. Small particles of pollen danced in the steam that rose to the sky. Blue-green moss coated the rocks where their surface was wet and slick from the humidity.

You had both stripped out of your clothes, long past being uncomfortable with each other's nudity. Your warm, soft breasts now pressed against his chest, thighs framing his waist and his body finally relaxes as he deeply inhales the swirling aromas of both, the hot spring, filled with oils and herbs, and also your sweet natural scent.

Ao’nung rests his back against a rock that had been weathered smooth, his hands gliding over the soft skin of your back, up and down, as you continue to knead the tight muscles of his shoulders and neck. Through the upper canopy of the trees he could see night draw in and a soft rumble filled his chest as he pulled you closer.

"Still not going to talk to me about what happened today?"

Your playful voice is what makes him pry his eyes open and unfortunately return his mind to the moment and todays memories.

"Nothing happened today, tsawke. I already told you", he grumbles.

"You know I can tell when you’re lying", you push and Ao‘nung wants to roll his eyes, but he misses the strength to do so. Instead, he just buries his face into the crock of neck and makes a sound of annoyance. "And you’re never like this after a hunt. Normally, I can’t even get you to shut up about how you made the biggest catch and how you’re oh so much better than everyone else, how they’re all just a bunch of skxawngs and– ", you begin to mock him, but can’t finish the sentence as a teasing little giggle bursts out of you.

"That does not sound like me at all", he protests, yet can’t hide the lazy grin forming on his lips.

It’s moments like these that Ao’nung values most about your friendship. It feels so intimate and natural, the way you so playfully interact with him. How close you are, physically and mentally. You take care of each other, even if the ways in which you do, go beyond any normal friendship. It just feels so good to be in your presence, it makes him forget about the world around him for a while. Makes him forget why he was even so tense, what exactly had plagued his mind in the first place. There was just you now.

Ao’nung doesn’t even try to wipe the woozy smile from his face as he listens to your soft giggles and the joy it brings you to tease him, to know that you’re the only one allowed to do this and continue unharmed. Oh, how you loved to take advantage of the soft spot he had for you.

Your chest was still pressed firmly against his own, droplets of water running down your collarbone and collecting in a small puddle where your breasts are squished together. You wear your hair up in a bun, a few messy strands sticking to the sweaty skin of neck and forehead and Ao’nung thinks you’re the most beautiful woman he has ever laid his eyes upon.

Between soft laughs as you mimic his cocky way of presenting himself, he catches you off guard as he suddenly presses his lips against yours.

He knows there’s no reason to do this. You’re all alone out here, so there’s no point in trying to make someone jealous that wasn’t even there to witness it. But from time to time, both of you had sought the other out just to get some sort of relief, so this wasn’t really something new to either of you. This agreement had long become more than a means to make Neteyam jealous. Besides, if he had to pick something he would get out of this agreement, it was this. After all, you promised him a favor if he would agree.

Your lips are soft and your tongue tastes warm and sweet as he deepens the kiss, tilting his head and cradling the back of your head to get better access. It doesn’t even take a heartbeat for you to relax into the kiss, exhaling a soft sigh as your arms encircle his neck and pull him closer.

The gentle sway of the water fuses you tighter together, and soon you’re rubbing and grinding against each others wet bodies. His hands are everywhere on you, pushing and pulling and kneading every inch of skin until your cheeks are flushed red and you’re panting against his lips.

"Please", you whisper softly, and he feels your thighs squeeze around his middle. Your hands roam over the muscles of his chest, then down over his abs, between your bodies, until they reach the base of his cock. "Please, can you…"

"Can I what?", Ao’nung breathes against your lips. He plants open mouthed kisses from the corner of your lips to your jaw, down to your throat. "Talk to me, tsawke. Tell me what you want."

"Touch me", you say, and it’s so whiny it almost sounds like a complain. Meanwhile your hands begin to stroke and squeeze up and down the length of his cock. It makes him chuckle as he licks a wet stripe from your collarbone down to your breast, "But I am touching you."

You make a frustrated sort of noise and Ao’nung smiles, softly, fondly, and then he carefully closes his teeth around a nipple and tugs.

"Fu– Fuck, c-come…on", you pant, "You know what I mean! Just— please!"

His tongue traces from your breast back up to your throat, where he buries his face into your skin to inhale more of that natural sweet scent you release. Ao’nung let’s out a deep groan once you stroke him a little faster and it almost makes him forget what he was supposed to do with his own hands.

"Please, Ao’nung", you whine again, but what snaps him out of his aroused trance isn’t your pleading voice. It’s the sound of someone else approaching the hot spring with a low chuckle.

"It’s not nice to make a woman beg like this."

You inhale a sharp gasp, pressing yourself tighter against Ao’nungs chest in an attempt to shield your naked front from any unwanted viewers. His tattooed arms hold you close, encircled around your back and covering your skin as much as possible. With his eyebrows knit together, he glances over the top of your head to see who was stupid enough to interrupt his alone time with you.

"Oh, please don’t stop on my account. I was enjoying the show."

Neteyam. Oh isn’t this just great, Ao’nung thinks to himself, grinding his teeth as he watches toruk maktos eldest step into his direct view.

There’s a sharp grin plastered on his entirely too perfect face. And this man dares to call himself a warrior? There’s not a hint of a scar on his skin, not one tattoo adorning his body that could tell of his victories, his hunts. He might as well be a nobody.

"What are you doing here?" The grip Ao’nung has on you is possessively tight and for a moments he thinks he’s the reason for your breath has stopped.

"Well, what do you think?", Neteyam chuckles and the golden color of his eyes seems to glint in the moonlight as they rake over your exposed back. "I came here to bath, just didn’t know this spot was already… occupied."

It’s a reasonable response. But not even close to a good enough reason for him to stay.

"You can leave then."

Neteyam did not seem to share the same thought.

"Hm, I don’t think I will. Besides, that gives us the chance to continue our nice conversation from earlier, don’t you think?"

Ao’nungs growl rumbles from deep within his chest as he watches him step closer to the hot spring. Briefly, he remembers that he had very clearly warned the brat to stay away from you this morning, even if it was through gritted teeth and words that were generally much nicer than the ones he would’ve preferred to use.

Neteyams hands were already working to untie the knot that held his loincloth together, before he paused for a moment. A quick glance to your face and Ao’nung was met with the sight of your widened eyes, lips slightly parted as you were obviously trying and failing to proceed what was even happening. Neteyam then pauses.

"Unless you…", with a tilt of his head his eyes meet yours, a sly smile pulling at the corner of his lips, "want me to leave?"

Taken aback, your breath hitches in your throat. There’s a look of uncertainty on your face, as if you were struggling to express what you wanted. If you even knew what you wanted, Ao’nung thought. Your eyes then skipped between both men for a moment, a blush spreading over your cheeks so deep, they were almost turning purple now.

Ao’nung feels his chest tighten as you glanced from Neteyam to him, and then back to Neteyam. For a moment he’s scared you would tell him to leave, now that what must’ve been a dream to you finally seemed to come true. But you don’t. You just say nothing.

"That’s what I thought. You don’t mind if I do, right?" A soft rumble filled the man’s chest, almost a purr, as he untied his loincloth and then stepped into the water.

Your breathing had picked up rapidly, Ao’nung realized, feeling the way your chest pushed against his own as you inhaled quick, shallow pants of air. There’s a moment of very uncomfortable silence, made worse only by the tension that filled the air as Neteyam let out a content sigh after making himself comfortable, sitting with his back against a rock, arms sprawled out over the edge of the hot spring like he owned the place.

His abs tense just above the waters surface as he stifles a laugh, and he brushes a loose braid behind his ear while his eyes seem to be glued to yours.

"By the look on her face I assume you haven’t told her about our conversation from this morning?" He asks, his gaze moving for just a split second to look at him. You seem to follow his example and crane your neck up to look at him questioningly, your brows raised high.

Ao’nung can't think about what he's supposed to say now. If he thinks too much about it, he'll end up punching him in the face and it probably won't end there. It’s like Neteyam can read his mind, or maybe he’s just good at reading facial expressions, because he’s quick to give an answer to the confused look on your face before Ao’nung even has the chance to open his mouth.

"Sevin", Neteyam says and Ao’nung wants to vomit, "why don’t you turn and face me, hm? It’s rude not to look at the person that is talking to you, don’t you think?"

Ao’nungs arms tighten around you, so hard it’s like he’s afraid you‘ll float away if he won’t hold you close enough.

But then you whisper a soft, "It’s okay", and uncontrolled jealousy punched right at his gut as you wriggled yourself free.

It’s almost like he had forgotten for a moment that this was kinda part of the deal. That he’s not the one that’s supposed to be jealous. That if he were a good friend, he would’ve gotten up and left ten minutes ago, give the two of you some space, help you achieve the goal you’ve been working so hard for the past year or so.

Usually, Ao’nung could camouflage all and any feelings from anyone very well behind angry glares and scornful smiles. He was an impenetrable wall for those around him. Except for you, of course, who could normally read him like an open book. But now that your attention was entirely directed to someone else, you couldn’t even see the way a flash of hurt and jealousy came over his face for just a heartbeat.

Your hands trembled as he helped maneuver you to sit on his lap, facing Neteyam that sat opposite of you.

"That’s much better, isn’t it?" He grins and you give him a sheepish little nod, blushing even deeper as he purrs a whispered praise. Ao’nungs arms encircle your waist, pulling you flush against him. He feels the soft of your bottom pressed against his crotch, and if it weren’t for the current situation, he would’ve loved nothing more than to slide into you and take you just like this. Unfortunately, the omatikaya sitting right in front him then continues to talk and sets every single nerve inside him on fire with the urge to get up and push his head under the waters surface until he stops mov—

"I meant what I said, by the way." He says and all of those murderous thoughts inside his head come to an halt. "There’s no need to stop doing what you’re doing just because I’m here."

He wants to laugh in the forest boy’s face, but decides to shove it back down and manages to keep his expression impassive.

"On the contrary. I‘m very content with watching." A seductive little wink is send your way and Ao’nungs whole body tenses. Neteyams gaze then lands on him and Ao’nung suddenly knows that he wants him to try something.

Ao’nung has a temper. He‘s always had a temper, everyone knows, and Neteyam is just trying to be provocative, Ao’nung tries to remind himself. But now his temper already flares, bright and white-hot, and he almost doesn't care about a response, doesn’t care about what he could answer to this as long as it hurts, so he bites his tongue hard enough to taste copper.

It’s unfortunate for both of them, that Neteyam can’t seem to shut up, despite the fact that neither him nor you had said anything yet. He‘s confident in every word that leaves his mouth, not even caring about what the two of you would think of him as he goes on, "Oh, right, I almost forgot. Since your dear friend hasn’t told you yet, I guess it’s my duty to enlighten you."

One of his hands curls into a fist and he can't seem to relax it, before he realizes it’s your hip that he’s squeezing. Not hard enough to hurt, but he lingers for a long moment before he can force himself to loosen up. He apologizes with a fleeting kiss to your shoulder, making sure to hold eye contact with the man in front of him, like it’s two Pxazang‘s battling for territory.

"Ao’nung and I had a very nice conversation this morning, and he actually made the proposal to…", his lip curls into a dangerous smile, "share you."

Ao’nungs mind goes blank. He wasn’t prepared for this.

Share you? But he did not…

His mouth opens to object, but all words seem to fail him, his brain struggling to keep up with what was happening, while he simultaneously tried to understand what Neteyam wanted to achieve with this lie.

"If that is something you would want, of course."

There it is again, that act of fake innocence, pretending to be oh, such a good and caring guy. It breaks his heart to see it working so well on you.

You glance up at him with those nantang puppy eyes full of hope and anticipation, "You… You did?"

But there’s silence and Ao’nung just looks at you. He listens once Neteyam opens his mouth again, he has to listen because his throat feels too dry to speak.

"Oh, yeah", he responds for him. A white lie, like everything else he had told you so far. "He told me how good of a friend you are and that this would be something you would truly enjoy. And I know for a fact that you really deserve this."

No. No, you don’t deserve this, don’t deserve him. And sharing you like this was never part of the deal, it wasn’t part of the agreement to take a part in any of this, to watch his filthy hands touch you. Ao’nung was never one to share his possessions– he never talked about his feelings, he just acted, knowing what he wanted and going for it. That was how he did everything; with quick deliberation leading to a fast resolve, quite the opposite of Neteyams tendency to manipulate.

"You’re such a sweet girl, aren’t you? Letting your friend arrange this for you", Neteyam chuckles and Ao’nung realizes just now, how much you’re squirming on his lap. "Why don’t you show me just how sweet your are, hm sevin?"

He’s only playing a role, Ao’nung has to remind himself. As much as he prayed for it to become reality, you weren’t his. He was just your friend. But if being a good friend meant to participate in whatever this was, so be it. At least he could be here for you, take care of you even when you were in another man’s arms.

It was comforting, in a way. Comforting like rays of sun soaking into his skin, so much so, that he‘ll forget what damage they can do if he stays to long under her comfortable shine. He‘ll burn, sooner or later, feel the pain when it’s already too late. But it feels good now, so he tries to stop worrying about everything else.

The feeling of your slick rubbing against his thighs reached a point where it was impossible for him to ignore, even though it hurt to know he wasn’t the main reason for this.

His gaze never leaves its target sitting across from him, not even as he dips his hands below the waters surface and hooks the back of your knees over his forearms. The surprised little squeak you emit was kind of cute, he thought, as he lifted you out of the hot spring.

Your soft hands cling to him as Ao’nung makes himself comfortable, sitting down onto the flat rocks that enclose the pool of water, while he holds yourself up and open for Neteyam to see. Your legs are spread as far as they can go, and said omatikaya can be seen swallowing the salvia that pools in his mouth at the sight.

You were a piece of art; gorgeous, pretty and wet, droplets of water running down your curves, mixing with arousal that ran down your thighs. But you were also pretentious, greedy, and entirely spoiled and that was entirely his fault. And he knew how to play that card all too well.

Ao’nung nuzzled his nose against your cheek, up to your ear where he whispered, "You want him? Then show him", before licking the shell of your ear, making you shudder in his hold.

Even he felt the flush of dark embarrassment tickle up your spine, before you wriggled a hand free and lowered it between your spread thighs. A fingertip slid between your folds, teasing your slippery entrance with a quiet whimper.

"Don’t be shy", Ao’nung murmured, nipping on your throat. "C‘mon, tsawke. Be a good girl and put a finger in."

Nodding, you pressed your index finger against your slippery entrance, slowly pushing in to the last knuckle. Then, you wriggle a second finger in beside the first one, and start to ease them out together, then back in; a slow, slick push.

The moans that tumble from your parted lips are like the sweetest most familiar melody to him. To Neteyam, they are the reason one of his hands has disappeared below the surface, casting ripples in the water.

You curve your finger a little more and pick up the pace, thrusting them faster. The squelching sounds they coax out from between your thighs filled his ears, growing louder by the second. It was only overturned by the sound of his own ragged breathing, his heart thumping against his chest in the same rhythm his cock throbbed heavily, yearning for friction, for your hands to touch him, your tight cunt to wrap around his length and swallow him whole.

"Just like that, you’re doing so good", Ao’nung coos softly against the shell of your ear, "Look how much he’s enjoying the show. See what you do to him?" He tips his chin up and your eyes flutter open to get a glance of Neteyam. His ears are pinned back, eyes half lidded, with lips slightly parted and chest heaving as he strokes himself under the water. Ao’nung has to swallow back his own pride in order to play this role, yet he enjoys being the one that can touch you so freely while all Neteyam can do is watch as it happens. "He wants to touch you so bad", he chuckles lowly into your ear and your body decides to respond for you, hips canting forward to push your own fingers in deeper. "I bet he wants to know what you feel like, warm and wet around him. How tight you are. Fuck, if only he knew how good it feels whenever you come around my cock, the way you squeeze me. See his eyes? He’s hungry for you, tsawke. He wants to know how you taste like, too."

A helpless little whimper escapes you from his words and Ao’nung grins, the tip of his fangs sparking with mischief. "Should we make him watch, hm? Or do you want to invite him?"

"Nung", you mewl, plead with your eyes as you glance over your shoulder to meet his.

"I won’t do it for you", he whispers, tilting his head towards the other man with a sigh, "Use your words if you want him."

Your eyes follow his line of sight. Neteyam groans, then closes his eyes for a brief second and throws his head back in bliss, before he looks back at you with a dirty smile.

"What is it, hm?", Neteyam asks, "What do you want, paskalin?"

Your toes curl at the sound of his voice, raspy and laced with a certain type of hunger that could only be satisfied by one thing alone. And that thing is you. Breath hitching, you make a whiny little noise that almost sounds like a plea for the forest boy’s name, but that seems to be all you manage.

"Can’t get the words out, huh?", he chuckles, "That’s okay. Fuck, just look at that pretty pussy, doing all the talking for you. Look how she’s dripping, so eager to be filled, but your hands aren’t enough, are they? You need my help, pretty girl?"

Ao’nungs own fingers itch to help you out, to show him just how perfectly he can fill you with them. That there’s no need for this demons spawn here, that he’s the only one you need to satisfy you.

You seem to think otherwise, because you’re nodding quick and desperate, and Neteyam groans at the sight of your clenching hole once you had pulled your fingers out. A wordless inventions for him to take their place. So Ao’nung continues to hold your legs open wide as Neteyam pushes himself off the rocks and approaches slowly, gracefully walking through the waist deep water to stand before you.

With the way Ao’nung had hoisted you up and held you spread open as he sat on the flat rocks surrounding the hot spring, Neteyam didn’t even had to kneel or crouch to be eye level with what he craved most and the realization made him lick his lips in anticipation.

His hands find the soft of your thighs, caressing your skin before he placed soft kisses here and there, making you shiver in Ao’nungs hold. With his eyes entirely fixed on yours, Neteyam then runs the tip of his tongue through your wet folds and groans at the taste.

"Eywa, woman", he curses under his breath, then attaches his lips to where your slick oozes out in a clear, honey-like stream. "You’re so sweet, paskalin", it’s muffled against your cunt, before he withdraws and glances up at Ao’nung. "Does she always get this wet?"

You let out an impatient whimper and Ao’nung places a soothing kiss to your shoulder.

"For me?", he chuckles, the sound low and dangerous and he feels the goosebumps rise on your body. "Every single time, yes."

Neteyam grins. "Must be my lucky day then. Look how she’s dripping for me."

He takes his sweet time returning to you then, kissing and stroking everywhere but where you need him, but when he finally does, you gasp and moan as he nibbles at your clit, arches when he cups your ass and, with the soft sucking noises he makes, it felt he was drinking you in.

You moaned again, breathlessly, bonelessly, and your back arched away from Ao’nungs chest, or at least you tried to. Feeling so good, so stupidly happy, Neteyam then ran his tongue up and down your slit again and your moans turned into a wail.

He returned to lick and suck at your clit, alternating with a smooth up-and-down stroke with two of his fingers, teasing and circling your clit, then gently prodding them at your entrance.

"Mnnh– Fuck, ah, please, please", you whimpered breathlessly, hips bucking helplessly to get his fingers to slip inside, your head falling fully back against Ao’nungs chest. "Neteyam, p-please!"

But Neteyam only sped up, his tongue wet and rough and steady against your clit, groaning into you at the sound of his name from your lips, and pressing his face against your pussy like you actually taste of nectar or honey or any of those tooth rotting sweet fruit the Sullys enjoyed to eat.

Meanwhile, Ao’nung placed several open mouthed kisses from your throat to your jaw, enough of an hint to make you turn your head and claim your lips in a deep, hungry kiss. It was wet and filthy, just tongues and teeth as he devoured you, as Neteyam devoured your other set of lips.

You were moaning into the kiss, wanton and desperate, before finally, a set of fingers were pushed past your entrance and curled just right, while Neteyam kissed and sucked on your clit so passionately, Ao’nung felt the way your whole body tensed.

And then, then you were coming, bucking, crying out weakly even though it seemed you had no breath left in you. Shuddering and shuddering all through your body, shuddering between two hot bodies who worshipped you, who were holding you, staring at you like prey- beautiful, delicious prey, both of them so very hungry for you.

"Good girl", was murmured lowly into your ear, "Keep coming for us, c’mon let it all out. Let him taste how delicious you are."

Neteyams tongue continued to lap at your flowing arousal, groaning against your folds between filthy slurping noises. "Hmm, fuck. Is that all for me? So good, paskalin, you taste so good."

You kept your eyes closed and let the little tremors and aftershocks go through you, just breathing in tiny happy hums, because, eywa bless them to whatever heaven existed, they were both still touching you, gently and slowly. Neteyam kissing you softly, Ao’nung nuzzling his face into the crock of your neck, sucking on your throat, until eventually your breathing slowed, and you swallowed, opening your eyes.

Immediately, you were met with two golden eyes, looking up at you from between your thighs.

"Neteyam", you pant, "m-more. I want more. Please."

"Oh, do you?", he chuckles as he rises to stand on his full height, towering over you. "You’re such a cute little thing, so needy." He tips your chin up with a finger, then tilts his head as he grins down at you. "Think you can take both of us?"

There’s the sound of an audible gulp and neither Neteyam nor Ao‘nung himself can stifle a chuckle at this. You squirm in his arms for that one, grinding down against his cock that’s been trapped between his stomach and your lower back, making him grunt.

"I‘ll take that as a yes", Neteyam smiles wickedly, exchanging a look with Ao‘nung. He then stepped just a little closer, truly sandwiching you between them both before he hooked an arm under your thigh so Ao’nung could trace his hand down your spine and dip it down lower. Goosebumps run up your neck as his hand kneads one of your ass cheeks and then slides between them. Ao’nung expertly locates your dripping entrance from behind, fingers swirling in your arousal, dipping inside for good measure and he hums lowly at the sound of your weak little moans.

You’re always wet, always wet for him, beautiful and perfect, eywa, the way you just fit, it's like you plug into everything, everything that makes him high, incoherent, hard.

"You want this?", Ao’nung whispers into your ear, his tongue teasing your lobe. You clench around his fingers and give him a quick, desperate nod, so eager to be filled. He grins at that. His fingers retreat, covered in arousal he lets them glide between your cheeks to feel for your puckered hole.

"You want me in here, hm?"

Your whiny whimper of "Yes, please!" is completely satisfying to his ears. Your lack of surprise makes Neteyam realize you’ve done this before, and that mental image is a delicious one. One finger then eases into your tight hole slowly, fluidly. Neteyam watches with hungry, half lidded eyes as Ao’nung spreads you open on one and then two of his thick fingers, watches how expertly you take him in as he spreads your legs a little further to give the other man more space to work with. More slick is running down your pretty cunt, like a silent plea for him to fill it.

It's not long, though, before you’re squirming, the position you’re in making it impossible to push back against his fingers but they both know you’re trying to. It’s also not long until your moans turn louder, back arching, and you make a sound of protest when Ao’nung finally pulls his fingers out and deems you as loose enough. His cock is so painfully hard, leaking more pre-cum than he thought was even possible. He had to get inside you now, had to have you because in the back of his mind there still lingered this thought that after this, it could’ve been the last time he would get to feel you, to hold you, to fuck you, ever again.

So he wraps an arm around you, the other hand securing your thigh, while both of Neteyams hands hold onto the underside of your knees to spread your legs for them.

"Together then", Neteyam grins and Ao’nung can’t help but glare at him over your shoulder. Not even this situation could change anything about the grudge he’s holding against that forest boy.

A quick glance down your front reveals the sight of Neteyam pushing the length of his cock between your slippery folds, lubing himself with your slick.

The tremor that passes through your body seems more intense than usual, once you feel Ao’nung get into position too.

"Breathe, tsawke", he says, the tip of his cock nudging against your backside. You nod, inhale, exhale, and then they both push into you slowly, spreading you apart. Another whimper tumbles from your lips, your eyes squeezing shut and Ao’nung places a tender kiss to your temple as he slides further in.

"Good girl, just relax for me", he coos, "you’re doing so good."

For a moment it's too much, you’re way too tight and he thinks your body just can't reach that far, but then Neteyam seems to be fully inside while he slowly pushes deeper with minimal resistance. Neteyam groans, his grip on your legs tightening as he feels Ao‘nung move into place alongside him. You’re stretching around them both like you were made for this, and then Ao’nung glances at the space between your legs where you’re all joined, and there isn't a slither of space.

"Fuuck, look at that", the forest boy pants, smiling almost proudly. He gives the first languid thrust that makes you mewl. "That feel good, hm? You like being stuffed full of us, don’t you sevin?"

A whiny "Y-Yes", comes as a response, followed by a string of incoherent pleas for them to finally move.

"You sound so pretty when you beg, paskalin", Ao’nung says, granting your wishes with slow thrusts, making you feel every inch of him as he slides himself into you. Better adjusted now, your body welcomes him with every snap of his hips. Neteyam sets up a quicker rhythm, pistoning in and out of your body roughly, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot at just the right angle.

You flex your inner walls, squeezing his cock, until you feel him throb inside you with the change, moaning, and his gaze entirely fixed on where you are joined.

"Eywa, that little pussy is gripping me so tight. No wonder you kept her all to yourself. I wouldn’t share her with anyone, not even if she begged me to."

Their eyes meet for a second and Ao’nung’s breath is hot on your neck as he whispers, "you’re mine, aren’t you? He’s just lucky I can’t deny you any of your filthy wishes." Reaching to cup one of your breasts in his hands, he tweaks a nipple and earns a dirty little moan in response, your soft, velvety-like walls pulsating around their cocks.

"Oh f-fuck, make her do that again!"

Ao’nung was rubbing your nipples more roughly now, and your voice goes hoarse when Neteyam simultaneously thumbs at your throbbing clit. "Yeah, good girl", he praises you, thrusting into you faster, "so good, sevin. Shit, you feel so fucking good around me."

You’re close, Ao’nung can tell by the way you’re writhing, by the way your breath hitches when the tip of Neteyams cock brushes against your cervix, by the way your face twists with ecstasy when he fucks you harder, deeper.

He removes his hand from your nipple and slips it between your bodies, fingertips fighting for their place to rub against that swollen bundle of nerves alongside Neteyams, until your whole body is arching and your jaw drops.

"Nung", you moan like a prayer, "you’re– so big. M‘so full, gonna come!" It’s like you’re trying to finish him just with your words, and fuck, you might manage it if you carry on. His head falls to your shoulder and he presses his lips against your skin, then up your neck until your mouths are crushed together, a desperate thrashing of tongues and lips.

Words were entirely washed out of your system, your mind completely overtaken by the fullness of two cock sliding in and in and then all the way out just to slip back in, harder, tight body gripping and squeezing them.

It was all heat and pleasure. All those sensations, thoughts and emotions. Everything so close, but you just couldn’t reach it. Not yet. You felt like a puppet on a string, waiting for any of them to pull the right thread and help you to your release.

You’re right on the edge, right there.

The moment he breaks the kiss, Neteyam catches your lips in another, his tongue swirling around yours and a bitter part of Ao’nung hopes you still taste like him. If that is the case, Neteyam doesn’t seem to mind. His hips continue to snap hard against yours as he exchanges moans and spit through the kiss. It’s a filthy rhythm the both of them had set, various body fluids smearing between three tangled bodies.

Every time one thrusts in they brush over your pleasure spot, leaving you sobbing and writhing on their cocks, clutching on their arms so hard it hurts, chanting their names in between moans, hardly able to catch your breath.

"Let go, c‘mon I know you need it so bad", Ao’nung groans lowly into your ear, thrusting in just as the other man pulls out, which leaves you in a constant state of fullness, never empty for even a second. "Be a good girl and come for us."

It's a buildup of tension that arches your back and curls your toes and just when you think you can't take it anymore, something snaps. Your entire body tightens as you cry out their names, nails sinking so deep he’d be surprised if they haven’t drawn blood.

"There it is, pretty girl. Great mother, look at you creaming around my cock, gonna make me cum too", Neteyam groans, throwing his head back in bliss. He was thrusting into you so hard now, it knocked the very air out of your lungs, leaving you gasping for breath.

The little breath left in you was then stolen by a deep kiss, Ao’nung sucking on your tongue as he continued to pound into you, unable to think of anything else besides the way your walls tighten around his throbbing cock.

"Gonna cum inside you", he groans into the kiss, "Can’t hold back, I just need to fill you up, gonna fuck my cum into you and— hngh– shit!" He plunges into you, one, two, three more times and then comes with a grunt of your name.

Your legs were already shaking with the aftershocks of your own orgasms, twitching from overstimulation while Neteyam gave one last thrust, hips pausing, and then you felt it flowing— hot shots of cum pumped into you, filling you up nice and warm as he lost himself inside you with a low moan.

Ao‘nung wasn’t entirely sure if you could even hear him at this point, but he still kept the reassurance up anyway as they both gently lowered you back into the hot spring.

"Can't say that was a bad time, fish lips," Neteyam grinned, glancing at your relaxed face resting against Ao’nungs shoulder. Your eyes had fluttered closed a few minutes ago, as the metkayina man was carefully cleaning the sweat and other body fluids from your skin, holding you tight against his chest.

"Don't get used to it." Ao’nung warns in a hushed whisper, "I doubt I'll share her again."

"Wouldn't expect it. Worried I'll steal her away?"

"No. But I keep close tabs on what's mine," he counters, blue eyes cold as he watches the other man rearrange his loincloth.

Neteyams grin widens at this, and he shoots him a playful wink, "We‘ll see about that", before he leaves off to the village.

— ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ —

Ao‘nungs hammock might as well be carved from stone.

He hadn’t been able to get much, if not any sleep at all these past couple of days. Shifting restlessly, he’s forcing his eyes to close once more every time they inevitably drift open, but it’s not working. So he’s staring at the ceiling of his marui, at the woven walls, and out into the dark blue sky. It only makes his frustration worse. Days have gone by and now half the night has already passed, by the time he finally comes to terms with the fact that jealousy truly is an ugly emotion. But it somehow always reveals the truth. And it’s not like he didn’t already know the truth before. No, he knew.

He could joke about it all he wanted, whenever Tsireya made her teasing little comments about it. Could laugh it off and roll his eyes at his younger sister, tell her she’s just imagining things and that this is all just a means to get another man jealous. He’s just being a good friend. He turned these comments into jokes, because he‘s afraid to take anything seriously. Because if he takes things seriously, they matter. But it does matter. It matters so much, that it hurts now. Truth is, Ao’nung held his love for you so horrible discreet, that it was as persistent and almost as silent as bleeding from an unstitched wound. And now he was bleeding out. Painful and slow and irreversible.

Sharing you was a bad idea. Probably the worst he’s ever had, there was no doubt in it.

Ao‘nung tosses and turns in his hammock, unable to rest for any moment longer as his thoughts dared to consume him whole. Willing his body to get up before the sun was even beginning to rise, he found solace in the rhythmic crashing of waves down at the beach.

Ao’nung wishes that he could just have some kind of treatment to fix this problem. If only the tsahìk could cut his chest open and take his heart out to make it stop. Maybe eywa would bless him with a new one, one that wasn’t stained and stabbed and torn apart. Maybe it would take away the sick, knife-twisting pain he felt in his chest whenever he did as much as look at you. But in its own way, it was a good kind of pain. Like a constant reminder of just how much he was in love with you. How good it felt to love you. It was good, except for how it made him feel sick whenever you laced your fingers up together and squeezed his hand as though Ao’nung was something precious, something to be loved, and once again he catches himself wishing that you might ever look at him in the ways that Ao’nung looks at you.

It pisses him off to be reminded that he's supposed to be good at keeping his head, at keeping his distance, at not letting his lies consume him, the way that they're doing now. The way that they've done since this whole thing started. That this is all just a game of play pretend and you’re not really his.

Besides everything else he's doing that's completely unhelpful to this dilemma, Ao’nung’s overlooking one crucial detail: how can he stop pretending, when this is probably the closest he'll ever get to actually being yours, to you being his? How can he stop pretending when he's already made you this stupid, shiny little bracelet, because it would scandalize Neteyam in the entire, to think that Ao’nung and you are so into each other that you’re trading what could be mistaken as a courting gifts. And because it's the closest thing that Ao’nung will ever get to actually giving you a courting gift. He just has to take what little gifts he can from the world, right? So he can’t end it. He can’t end this arrangement. Not yet.

"Become my mate."

A simple statement. A straightforward question with a straightforward answer. But he would never actually ask that, would never receive an answer to this that wouldn’t hurt him, so he might as well continue to live in this perfect world that he lets himself envision.

Ao’nung turns the bracelet in his hands, thumb swiping over the carefully polished pearls. One of them sort of looks like the color of your eyes, as much as a simple blue pearl can emulate the deep ocean blue of yours and the way they sparkle when you look at him. The whole thing doesn't really capture your essence, it just made him think about you, and that's why he picked it out. He would give it to you today, he thought. He knows you would wear it for him, and maybe the thought of you wearing this for him, wearing something that would always mark you as his would make it enough for a little while longer. Maybe one day he would get his ass up and just ask you, would ruin your friendship just for the teeny tiny chance of you not turning his offer down. Maybe you would be his, one day. Truly his.

It’s when the first rays of sun begin to shine over the ocean, that he’s greeted by the sight of his own, personal warm solace. Sometimes that shines brighter and warmer than the sun herself. His ears perk up at the sound of you calling his name, waving your arms at him and a smile tugs on his lips. Always up early, he thinks, rising to his feet.

"It worked!" You squeak happily, jumping into his arms and Ao’nung continues to smile at you, albeit a little confused. You break away from the hug first, jumping excitedly and pointing to a piece of jewelry dangling from your wrist. He stares at it blankly, each breath making his lungs feel like they were filled to the brim with shards of glass.

His palm closed tightly around the bracelet in his own hand, tight enough he could feel the little shells cutting into his palm.

He knew this would eventually happen.

He could feel it in the back of his mind, lingering like a muscle he's held tensed so long that he can no longer remember what it felt like to be otherwise.

What Ao’nung didn't expect was, that it would be this soon. He really thought he still had time. More time. More time with you, before he would loose you to another man. Time to change his fate, time to–

"It worked! Neteyam courted for me, look!"

Ao’nung felt something in him shatter, breaking to the point of no repair. Breaking so violently that he wondered if it was possible for no one to have heard it. He felt it burn his skin, his eyes, the inside of his chest. Felt it burn like the sun burns, like it would burn if he tried to touch it. Ao’nung felt himself melt away and burn, and that’s when he reminds himself of the reason for the nickname he had chosen for you.

Tsawke. Because you are his sun.

And nothing feels as good and hurts as much as loving the sun. Because as well as she can make you feel good, as fast she can burn you.

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