#so I have a little bit of a lack of closure | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rootbeerworshiper · 10 days

Text

means something

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summery: your best friend stopped talking to you suddenly but you need one last chance at closure

warnings: angst lol

a/n: short and sweet (and sad) but i had fun writing it. alsoooo it’s based on the song but you don’t need the song playing in the background bc the pacing is different

love, sienna <3

you let out a defeated sigh as you focus your attention on a blank sheet of paper. it was supposed to be easy now, easier to let out your thoughts and begin to reconstruct your views on the situations that bring you sadness. at least that’s what your therapist advised you.

but instead you have nothing but small doodles of hearts on the top of the paper, serving as nothing but a sad reminder of your own life and how it lacks the love you always read about.

‘hopeless romantic’ used to feel like the wrong word, because there was a point where you had hope for a story like you see in the movies. a classic romantic comedy plot line was one you had always yearned for.

it’s silly how badly you’ve wanted it. you know you’re a complete person without it, you have strengths and aspirations and you cannot base your worth onto stupid boys.

but he wasn’t stupid. not in the slightest, regardless of what others said about him.

he was thoughtful and caring in ways no one else has been to you. never in your life have you seen someone so in touch with their own emotions at that level.

that’s because he’s special. to you and to so many other people.

April 17th, 2022

dear Matt,

i’m not entirely sure how to do this whole thing but it’s a step in healing that i’m more than inclined to take. part of me just really wants to get better so i have to do something to help me.

it might seem really random that i’m mailing you a letter, and trust me i understand how odd it is. but for once i needed you to hear me, and i can’t really send this message to a blocked number.

i can’t see anything in life without thinking of you. i saw a street sign the other day and i had to squint because, for a moment i thought i saw your last name plastered on the plastic. and i thought that it meant something. like the universe was trying to tell me something.

how pathetic is that? you know i can’t even have most of my favourite snacks anymore because they were our favourite snacks. the new foods you introduced me to when i forced you to watch ‘to all the boys i’ve loved before’ with me in middle school are practically forbidden from my apartment.

“this is the dumbest movie concept ever” Matt speaks, an annoyed undertone to his voice as he looks to me.

“you haven’t even watched it yet how can it be dumb? you know you might end up enjoying it if you watch it with an open mind” i reply, snuggling into his arm as my body rests on the soft couch cushion.

it definitely doesn’t take long for him to become invested.

“wait someone sent the letters?”

“why is she kissing him? doesn’t she like margo’s boyfriend?”

“damn they’re really just making out in a public hot tub”

the movie comes to a close, a cute song playing as the credits roll. “so, what did you think?”

“i think that i really like root beer and i really need the second movie now” he exclaims, sipping his bubbly liquid before looking down at me with the same blue eyes that can easily make me dizzy.

“i thought you’d come around Matt”

now i’m just a girl getting sad over a canned soda and a familiar brand of chips because it reminds me of all the good that once was.

along with this, i know everything about you.

i know your zodiac sign, me and leo’s are really compatible, which i never failed to mention to you despite how little you believe in astrology.

i can’t lie, the amount of silly little compatibility quizzes i took throughout middle school with our names punched in was a bit excessive, but every time without fail i would get the answers i had hoped for. and i thought that meant something.

i know how hard it was growing up for you. but i was there for you when you needed someone to force you to go to school in the morning, or when you needed help ordering food at the gas station across the street.

i used to think we were soulmates. not always romantic, but we just understood each other so well and i considered it to be sacred.

whenever i went through my own shit you were there for me. it was always so easy. knowing that if i had a bad day i had someone to go to who would listen with open ears… i guess it’s just been hard to live without that.

“Matt why did he break up with me? am i that unlovable?” i cry out, my head buried in matt’s chest as he rubs small circles on the back of my head.

he just pulls my head off of him, hands placed on either cheek as he looks at me. “i don’t think there is anyone on this planet that is more lovable than you”

i sniffle, trying my best to suppress the numerous tears that want nothing more than to escape my eyes. “so why did he break up with me out of the blue? after eight months why did he just decide he’s done with me?”

“because he’s an idiot who doesn’t understand the girl he just lost”

i cried for hours that night when my boyfriend broke up with me, and i know you remember. the next morning i woke up in your arms and i immediately felt guilty for keeping you up so late with my sob stories, but you didn’t care.

you said you wanted what’s best for me and you would make it your life’s goal to make me happy. and then you had the audacity to run your fingers through my hair as i thought about what to do next. that along with the constant reminders of how much i deserved love, that it was a definite thing for me.

how is that okay? do you not see how that was so completely confusing? did it mean absolutely nothing?

i haven’t kissed many people in my life, something Chris loved to tease me about. what he doesn’t know is that you were my first.

we never talked about it. maybe that was for the best, because every time i see a picture of you all i can think about is how good your lips felt on mine.

“i can’t just kiss you!” i laugh out, taking another swig of my drink before wiping my lips and looking back at the boy who has a serious expression resting on his face.

“sure you can. i don’t want jack to have an unfortunate ending to your guys’ date if u end up like… licking his bottom lip or some shit” he argues, holding his own drink in his own hand but keeping his attention solely on me.

“you’re just saying that because you’re drunk”

“maybe” he replies, sensing my hesitance. “is the idea of kissing me that bad?”

“no! no of course not, i just don’t wanna make it weird between us” i say, suddenly feeling a pool of anxiety form in my stomach.

but then, before i could form another overwhelming thought you just kissed me. just like that your lips were attached to mine and everything felt okay.

it was short lived, although i know i could have been like that forever. “nothing could ever make things weird between us, promise”

it’s funny isn’t it? how many times we assured each other that our friendship was solid, unbreakable.

i think the worst part is the not knowing. there’s nothing to comfort me with.

you left one day and you simply never spoke to me again. was it my fault? was it something i said?

i can’t help but wonder if the reason you cut it off is because you noticed all the small glances i would take in your direction. or if you noticed that the reason why i love romance books so much is because i imagine we’re the main characters.

that’s the thing though, i’ll never know. i feel less like myself without you, but maybe that’s part of growing up.

i have to learn what my own favourite snacks are and i can’t reply on you to have my back when i get my heart broken. instead i’ll be crying in an empty bed wondering what could’ve happened differently.

this wasn’t supposed to be a long letter but i promise it’s the only one you’ll be getting from me because i have to do the same as you, i have to move on.

i just have one question for you.

did all of this mean something to you? like really mean something to you in the way that i interpreted it.

i’ve wondered if i was delusional when i caught you staring at me from across the classroom, or when i found those compatibility tests in your search history.

but the kiss? drunk or not i thought something was there, with you or with us or whatever else. i didn’t think i was just another girl that Matt Sturniolo kisses and then forgets about but that’s exactly what i became.

anyways, i hope this letter finds you well. i had to ask Nate for your address but please don’t get mad at him. you know how stubborn i am when i want something and he tried to say no.

i guess i just love you, and i’m trying my best to make that sentence into past tense.

thanks for listening, y/n.

you grab an envelope that resides on the edge of your desk and open it up. folding up your letter and placing it gently inside before licking the tip of the envelope and closing it.

it all feels metaphorical. pouring your heart out just for it to get concealed by a thin piece of paper and shipped away.

regardless, you breathe out, standing up and making your way over to the garage to start your car. if you don’t do it know you won’t do it at all, and you need him to hear you.

a/n: if u want a part 2 you might get one maybe… we’ll see what i’m feeling anyways hope you enjoyed this blurb

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sunkendreams · 4 months

Note

Idk exactly what to ask for, but I have an ✨idea✨

Dwayne who seemingly has a penchant for choking his SO. He just loves the little whimpers and moans they make, and the way they squirm.

Really basic, ik 💀. You can take this and run, or simply enjoy this thought with me, but I wanted to share 🥰

moving in stereo.

( dwayne x fem!reader. )

➾ pairing ; dwayne x fem!reader.

format: one-shot — requested.

word count: 5.9K.

warnings: SMUT (mdni), making out, dirty talk, cunnilingus, oral sex (f!receiving), bloodplay (he’s a vampire), breast-play, biting, hair-pulling, scratching, breeding kink, scent kink, p in v sex, missionary position, rough sex, begging, unprotected sex, mating press (a little bit), choking, bruising/marking, dwayne is hot

author’s note: i am so obsessed with him, it’s not even funny ngl :’) also, I have a couple of other fics/drabbles that I’ll probably post tonight too, I’m definitely feeling very inspired! If you haven’t voted on my poll, please do so! thank you guys sm for your continued love & support !! ❤️

Beads of blood filled your mouth as you absentmindedly chewed at the skin of your cheek, flesh taut between your back molars — you hadn’t intended to bite down as hard as you did. A singular glance at Dwayne’s hands had contorted into shameless ogling, smitten hues discreetly flickering over the veins and smudges of grayish grease coating his fingers.

He had a way with machinery that transcended you — he often claimed that it was simply natural instinct, but your running theory was something buried in his past life. Dwayne was known for his stoicism and quiet demeanor, neglecting to educate you on his background.

It must’ve been a life of hard work — otherwise, his hands wouldn’t have appeared so rough and calloused. They weren’t smooth and spindly like Marko’s, or pretty like Paul’s. They were taut and thick, dexterous and built for destruction, if he let it.

Hands that had held you many times before, touched you in ways that you longed to feel again. A shudder rolled down your spine as you daydreamed, mind floating into a fantastical haze of lascivious thoughts. If it weren’t for the presence of the other boys, a tendril of drool might’ve leaked from the corner of your mouth.

“It’s fucked, isn’t it?”

Paul’s agitated groan reverberated throughout the cavern as he crouched beside his boombox, slapping a palm against the top of the speaker, as if that would cure all ailments. His brows furrowed together, lip curled in annoyance as he knocked his hand against the machine a second time — for good measure.

“You’ll ruin it if you keep it up.” Dwayne’s monotonous remark echoed from the opposite side of the lobby. He was entrenched in repairing his motorcycle after it had gotten vandalized by a Surf-Nazi who didn’t live to tell the tale. Paul’s beloved stereo was the least of his concerns.

“How are we gonna listen to Alice?” A begrudging sigh escaped Paul, whose theatrics weren’t out of the ordinary. He huffed, falling in a dramatic heap along the edge of the dilapidated fountain. “Can’t you fix it, Dwayne?” He asked, peering toward his brother, who seemed entirely uninterested.

Silence filled the chasm between them, prompting you to stifle a smile. Dwayne didn’t enjoy being bothered whenever he was working on a project — he was always one to see it through until the very end.

David and Marko emerged from their abysmal resting place. Once the sun disappeared behind the ocean and dusk consumed dawn, the boys became wildly active. “Paul,” David’s voice carried, always domineering without even trying. “Let’s go.”

Disappointed in the lack of closure for his treasured boombox, Paul relented, rolling off of the stone bannister with an exaggerated sigh. He ruffled your hair in passing, and smacked Dwayne on the way out, who didn’t flinch or move a muscle. He simply exhaled — you could sense the twinge of irritation in his sigh alone.

Paul snickered, hopping up the ledge alongside David and Marko. “See you later, bud.” He sneered, waving at you as he departed with his brothers. Once the trio slunk away into the moonlight, it left you and Dwayne by yourselves in the cave.

You could’ve watched Dwayne work for hours, captivated by the way he dismantled the machinery, handling the finer pieces with nimble digits. He was wrist-deep in the grease-laden guts of his motorcycle, surrounded by a myriad of scrap and parts. His dark brows were furrowed together in stark concentration.

Intrigued, you abandoned your perch — a rickety, velvet-cushioned chair that had come with the hotel’s ancient wreckage. Paul’s stereo was sitting along the ledge, awaiting a tune-up that you knew Dwayne would inevitably provide. You sat down, inspecting it for any damage — it looked unharmed, on the outside.

“Do you think it was a user error sort of thing?” A burst of laughter escaped you as you opened up the hatch for the cassette tapes, noticing a rather banged-up copy of Alice Cooper’s Constrictor from ‘86. It was a good choice — you had to commend Paul’s taste in music.

Dwayne’s soft, bemused huff was all you needed to hear, prompting you to smile. You never mistook his tranquil, halcyon demeanor as indifference — he was a man of very few words. Even his temper wasn’t violent or tempestuous, like that of Marko or David. His placidity in most things was what drew you to him in the first place.

Being a human amongst a den of rancorous vampires wasn’t your intention, but you were happy — happiest with Dwayne, above all. He was the best boyfriend you’d ever had, not that it was a lengthy list. You idly fiddled with some of the switches on the boombox, removing and reinserting the cassette before closing it up.

Much to your chagrin, the stereo didn’t work — maybe it wasn’t Paul’s imagination after all. You gently nudged it back along the ledge, abandoning it for now. “How come you didn’t go with the others?” You inquired, folding one leg over the other, tapping the heel of your boot against the dusty stone.

There was a slight shift in his body language — a mere shrug of his broad shoulders, accompanied by the noises of metal clanging, gears twisting, and then he grunted. “I’m not looking for dinner.” Dwayne replied, matter-of-factly. He was in the midst of replacing the engine on his bike, placing the damaged part aside, hands stained in dark ichor.

With a soft hum, you pushed yourself off of the ledge, wandering over toward Dwayne’s scrapyard — a rather cluttered corner of the cave that acted as a makeshift garage. You sat along one of the flat outcroppings of rock, opting to watch him fix up his motorcycle. It would intrigue you more than messing with the boombox ever would.

His pearlescent teeth clenched around a wrench, clutched between his maw as he focused on putting the new engine back in. There was a quiet appreciation that he held for you — you were always respectful of his hobbies, if this even counted as one. Dark eyes flickered toward you, sitting there in your billowing sundress like some statuesque angel.

Dwayne appraised you in his usual silence, eyes carefully raking along your physique, as if he were undressing you through gaze alone. His jaw tensed, a fire beginning to spark within his chest, threatening to spread like an encroaching wildfire the longer he ogled you.

Sundresses were a hot commodity — and they never lasted, either. Dwayne made sure of it, and once he got his hands on you, that pretty fabric shielding you from him would cease to exist. He made it up to you with the gift of another, but rest assured, it would be shortlived.

It was a mutual feeling, the silent staring. His keen hues settled along the supple curves hiding just beneath that thin veil of fabric while you were captivated by the visual feast of strong, capable hands and taut forearms. You folded your hands within your lap, beginning to absentmindedly chew at your inner cheek again.

Your scent wafted throughout the short distance between the both of you, heavy with hints of your favorite perfume, a saccharine concoction that Dwayne had grown accustomed to. He loved your smell — it was unique to you, invading his senses as he continued his work.

Those strong, muscled hands of his were buried in the underbelly of the motorcycle, carefully placing the new engine back inside. He began to fasten it all into place, removing the wrench from his mouth, quickly fixing it all up with a series of bolts, screws, and metallic plates.

“I’ll teach you sometime.” Dwayne was, oddly enough, the one to shatter the comfortable silence between the both of you. He prided himself on playing mechanic — his ability to handle such equipment and repair it was rather renowned. Once he was satisfied with the job, he sat back, peering toward you.

Warmth oozed from those earthen-brown hues of his, coupled with a subtle adoration that only he possessed for you. Your smile only served to further it, the only thing to make his dead heart pump to life again.

“I’d like that,” You mused, canting your head to one side. “I think you should fix Paul’s stereo, too.” Even if Dwayne had brushed him off before, he would fix it and have it ready for him whenever he came back. It was the right thing to do, anyway.

Dwayne huffed, lips twitching into a threadbare smile, wrought with traces of amusement. He didn’t say anything — he didn’t need to. He wiped his hands off along the crimson cloth he carried in his back pocket, ridding his hands of engine grease and oil.

He stood, filling in his full height as he bent down to give you a kiss, hand carding through the back of your skull. It never failed to make you shudder, haplessly squeezing your thighs together as you reached for his forearm. Powerful, taut muscle flexed underneath your fingertips, and his kiss briefly intensified before he withdrew.

That familiar aching sensation flickered to life between your legs, a dull arousal pooling within your stomach. You wanted nothing more than to cling to him, beg for another kiss, but Dwayne was already over to the stereo, inspecting it for any damage it might’ve had.

For Dwayne, your mind was exceptionally loud — he could read your thoughts, hear them screaming from afar, which he happened to smile at from where he stood. The feeling was mutual, but he wanted to make you stew in it for a little while — it heightened the experience.

As he dismantled the stereo, you decided to go elsewhere — to Paul’s nest, which wasn’t the brightest idea, but he had an impressive collection of cassette tapes. You began climbing toward the rocky slope that led off into alcoves, using some of the ropes hanging about to pull yourself up.

“Where are you going?” Dwayne asked, seemingly finding the source of the boombox’s disarray — there were pieces of tape stuck in the machine.

“To see what Paul has to listen to,” You mused, nose wrinkling in amusement. “It’s the least that he can do for you since you fixed it. We should go listen to music.” Truthfully, Dwayne owned that stupid stereo just as much as Paul did — joint custody, you’d called it.

Hawkish, dark hues drank you in from afar, and Dwayne decided that he’d indulge himself in your wishes, picking up the boombox by the bottom. The handle had been broken off long ago — courtesy of Paul, once again. He simply trailed behind you, briefly pressing his hand against the small of your back when you made it up the incline, keeping you steady.

Paul’s nest was notoriously cluttered — in a very fascinating and macabre manner. It was littered in trinkets, things he’d taken from people he fed from, bones and all, or general thievary. The boys were all like this, but not to Paul’s level.

Posters of hair-bands and metal groups hung all around the rock, illuminated by flickering candlelight. It smelled faintly of marijuana, decorated by a patchwork array of tapestries, clothes, and stolen jackets. The guitar he’d lifted off of a traveling rock group sat on his bed — he always talked about starting a band.

A mountain of cassette tapes lay in a semi-organized heap, many of them taken from Videomax or anywhere he could find them. Dwayne simply stood at the fringes of Paul’s nest, watching as you picked through his extensive collection. You smiled at the handful you’d grabbed, rejoining Dwayne as the two of you made for his nest.

In an amusing juxtaposition, Dwayne’s nest was noticeably simplistic — yet, his personality was scrawled all over it. He liked to read, keeping a trunk of books, tools he’d taken from garages, and some trinkets stashed away in a large piece of a drawer.

He hadn’t bothered to invest in a bed for several decades — not until he got entangled with you. When Marko had mentioned it to you in-passing, it was rather intriguing, but you never asked Dwayne about it.

With the stereo now placed at the foot of his makeshift bed, placed atop a rather rickety wooden trunk, you ejected Alice Cooper from the hatch and put in The Cars, instead. Dwayne happened to regard this choice with curiosity, sitting along the edge of the mattress.

Moving in Stereo began to drift through the alcove, and you promptly fell back against the plush surface, tucking your hands atop your chest. “This song reminds me of you.” You murmured, gazing at the cavernous ceiling, focused on the jagged edges and outcroppings of rock.

Dwayne seemed curious, twisting slightly to face you. Even when sitting, he towered over you, indomitable and immovable, a wall of sheer strength and muscle. “Why does it remind you of me?” He wanted to hear your answer, eyes flickering toward your exposed stomach.

You smiled, somewhat embarrassed, but you decided to answer him anyway. “I don’t know,” You began, rolling over onto your side, propping yourself up with one hand. “Just a bit of a mystery, but alluring. It’s pretty magnetizing.” With a soft exhale, you began to pick at a stray string on one of the blankets that covered the mattress.

“Magnetizing,” Dwayne echoed, withholding the urge to smirk. Instead, he joined you, laying on his side as he mirrored your position, face mere centimeters away from yours. “You got a way with words, girl.” His chest shook with a brief huff before he leaned in to kiss you.

If a kiss could have destroyed you, this was it — Dwayne’s mouth consumed you, intensified by your seemingly innocuous words. He tasted good, like spiced smoke and the faint bite of copper.

You were eternally grateful to The Cars — Dwayne was careening into you, broad chest flush against yours, veined hand grasping at the base of your skull. Thick digits massaged at the nape of your neck, coaxing you close until there was no space left between you, lips voraciously tangling with yours.

He ripped all wisps of air from your lungs, as cold as ice as he shrugged off his jacket. Arousal reactivated inside of you, no longer dormant as your warm hands reached for his chest, feeling broad muscle underneath your palms. He felt like a god — chiseled, forever perfect — you were sometimes in-awe of his beauty.

In awe — Dwayne smirked against your mouth, unable to help himself when it came to your overactive imagination and racing thoughts. He pushed his hand underneath your shirt, fingers tracing along your curves as he began to feel a familiar tightening in his jeans.

Your scent thoroughly intoxicated him — your natural musk, the cling of perfume, the arousal coalescing between your thighs — it was a perfect amalgamation. Dwayne exhaled, sitting up and taking you with him, hands hooking into the hem of your shirt as he peeled it off of you.

His lips were on your flesh again, hands tearing your thin brassiere apart with ease, reveling in your warmth. Dwayne pressed a string of kisses along your neck, feeling the thrum of your pulse point pound against his mouth. The shorts you wore still clung to your frame, but they wouldn’t be for much longer.

“Dwayne,” You sighed, The Cars becoming nothing more than atmospheric background noise. Liquid heat pooled between your legs, a shiver rolling down your spine as he laid you down against the mattress, covering you with his body. Your eyes locked together as he stared down at you, gaze boring right through you. “I need you.”

Dwayne kissed your neck, sucking enough to create a hickey before he traveled to the base of your throat, peppering kisses across your collarbone. “Where do you need me, sweet girl?” His husky, warm baritone made you shiver in delight. Those eyes raked over you in rapture, full of reverence.

“Everywhere,” You whimpered, goosebumps coalescing along your spine. Dwayne’s huff of laughter made you smile, and you quickly urged him closer for another kiss. His mouth crashed against yours, passionate and blistering, full of an unrestrained want. “I’m yours.” A sweet moan tore past your lips.

A wave of possessiveness swelled up inside of him, coupled with that innate desire to keep you all to himself. Dwayne didn’t have an issue sharing with his brothers, but you? No — you belonged to him, and him alone. A growl rippled across his broad chest as he tore his lips away, returning to your sternum.

There was a prowess to him that the others didn’t possess — Dwayne was emotionally intelligent, just as vicious in the same breath. He was an enigma of so many things, drawing you in with his arcadian charm. Your fingers reached for his dark tresses, perusing through as he kissed your chest.

“You’re beautiful,” Dwayne’s affectionate baritone rumbled across your flesh as he continued his slow, deliberate string of kisses, making his way to your breasts. He trapped one nipple between his lips, gently suckling on the sensitive mound, the other hand tugging at your shorts. “Perfect.” He uttered.

You sighed, fingers tangling within his mane of black tresses, pulling and carding through. It felt silky between your digits, like velvet. Those veined, calloused hands gripped along the meat of your hips, strong and unwavering as he lifted you to discard your shorts.

Arousal pooled between your legs, honey-thick as it toyed with Dwayne’s senses. He wanted nothing more than to drown himself between your thighs, devour you until you were a trembling, mewling mess. Your thoughts shamelessly echoed that sentiment, prompting him to reach toward the apex of your thighs, hand breaking past the waistline of your panties.

Dexterous fingers languidly slipped along your slick cunt, making a line right for your clit. Your body responded in a near-violent fashion, hips jolting up into him, hands curling within his hair. “D—Dwayne!” You whimpered, chasing after the friction his hand provided. Those dark hues hadn’t left you, transfixed on your smitten countenance as he kissed your stomach.

He looked big when his body was spread over yours, but when he began to slink toward your thighs, he was hulking, a massive wall of muscle. Dwayne’s kisses continued, littered all across your pelvis and thighs, fingers still winding you up as he pushed in between your legs with those broad, bronze shoulders.

His visage was rugged with a fine layer of dark stubble, tangible as it scratched against your inner thighs. He curled his hands into your panties, and instead of removing them, Dwayne simply tore them asunder, leaving remnants of fabric behind. The alcove reverberated with the sounds of material being ripped apart.

A thin sheen of arousal painted your cunt, scent stinging his nose in the most pleasant way possible. The velveteen flesh of your inner thighs were layered in faint bite marks — his own, from the past. He looked to you for approval, thumb lazily circling around your clit.

“Please.” You huffed, head bobbing up and down in an idle nod as he moved his lips toward a patch of flesh, unmarred by any bites. Dwayne was always very sensual, and even when he fed from you, it felt so lascivious. Your body jolted, hips writhing closer as he began to bite down.

Dark, earthy-brown hues melted away into pools of a golden-red, unnaturally vibrant. The initial sting of his bite made you wince, but he was always gentle with you when it came to feeding. As sharp teeth drew blood, a low growl reverberated throughout his chest, causing you to shiver. Your fingers continued to trace through his mane of black hair, a myriad of moans escaping you.

Restraining himself from taking this further, he had his fill, kissing over your now-healing bite. Dwayne licked his lips, effortlessly tossing both of your legs over his broad shoulders as he tugged you closer. You were somewhat folded at the hips, but you didn’t care.

Dwayne’s gaze was incendiary, intense — he stared you down from his perch between your thighs. You were visibly flustered, staring right back, nearly shrinking away altogether. He kissed your thighs, mouth dangerously close to your aching cunt. “You ready, girl?” He asked, inhaling another gust of your scent.

You nodded, feeling every fiber of your being scream with desire, and you wanted him terribly. “Yes,” You whimpered, hands having splayed out at your sides instead, no longer buried within his hair. “Dwayne, please,” His deliberation made it worse. “I want you so bad.” Your hips wriggled again, desperate for his mouth.

A warm, hearty chuckle emerged from his lips, making his herculean form shake between your legs. “Just relax,” He soothed, noticing how coiled and poised you were. Those strong, veined hands wrapped around your thighs, keeping you spread apart. The flat of his tongue lapped across your slit in one long stroke. “Relax, Mama.” His voice made your head swim.

Relaxation wasn’t exactly your forte — you were too wound-up, too drunk with desire to simply sit still and melt into the mattress. Dwayne’s tongue began to lap you up, greedily consuming every drop of your sweet arousal, working along your cunt. His fingers clamped hard, enough to leave behind the inklings of bruises, etched into your flesh like his personal brand.

Your thighs threatened to squeeze at his head, but he kept your legs firmly planted on his shoulders, pinning you down and rendering you immobile. Your taste saturated his tongue, and he only chased after it, dutifully lapping at your slit as his nose absentmindedly grazed against your clit.

Dwayne was relatively silent — and you didn’t mind in the slightest. The only ambiance happened to be The Cars, your delighted moans, and your boyfriend’s deep, rumbling grunts. His tongue worked wonders on your aching slit, cunt clenching pathetically around nothing as he lapped you up, gaze flickering towards you.

Your countenance was a vision of beauty, all contorted into an expression of complete and utter bliss. Your hips writhed, with very little room to go considering that Dwayne had you locked down, arms bracketed on your thighs, keeping you caged in against him.

A heavy fire burned bright within the pit of your stomach, demanding to be extinguished. Throaty, noisy moans escaped you in droves, vocalizing your delight as Dwayne vigorously lapped at your cunt. He alternated patterns, between soft and exploratory and recklessly needy. His mouth occasionally brushed over your clit, causing you to shiver.

Each time he ate you out, it was almost like the first time all over again — blissful, filled with a lust-infused passion that threatened to swallow you whole. Dwayne was beyond attentive, savoring you as if you were the most delicious meal he’d ever had.

He lowered himself toward the mattress, musculature flat and poised between your thighs. Those strong, thick arms kept you held in-place, keeping you locked in as he continued to lap at your core. His hips rocked forward, harshly grinding against the bed to relieve some of the friction.

Much to your surprise, Dwayne got off on pleasuring you above all else. There was something intimately carnal about it, knowing that you only made those sounds for him, only let him touch you. Your hips jolted forward, met with a barrage of an eager tongue and mouth as he lapped at your cunt.

Dwayne grunted, lips opting to purse around your clit, instead. Your reaction was visceral, moans ascending to an excitable crescendo as your hands flew toward his hair. He grunted again, attempting to vocalize his own satisfaction of you pulling and tugging on his dark tresses as if they were reins.

A burnished-gold coloration had swallowed brown irises whole, flickering down towards your blissed-out visage. Your body had a mind of its own, twitching and writhing as his mouth relentlessly assaulted your aching cunt. Pleasure licked acros your frame, burning along your sensitive nerves. He was vigorous and attentive, throat itching with a dull, familiar ache.

Hunger could wait — Dwayne merely placed that feeling into the recesses of his mind. His tongue continued to cascade across your slit, lapping at your arousal before he returned his attention to your clit, suckling on that bundle of nerves. He steered you towards your orgasm, mind swimming with a thick haze of lust, overwhelmed by your heady scent.

“Dwayne!” Your voice carried above the nest, echoing throughout your cavernous surroundings. Fortunately, you were alone — you had little desire to mask how you felt about him. Needy digits gripped at his tresses again, hips bucking into his mouth until you were simply a pile of mush, unable to respond.

You were lost to the white-hot heat of your release, an explosive sensation that caused you to quiver and spasm in delight. A glittering perspiration danced across your hot flesh, sparkling from the glow of the candlelight. “Dwayne,” You huffed, a whimper emerging from the back of your throat as he dutifully cleaned you up.

He released your hips from his ironclad hold, crawling along your body until his broad frame nestled between your thighs. That taut, muscled hand rest against the base of your throat, digits gingerly squeezing on either side of your windpipe. You initiate a rather tantalizing kiss, able to taste yourself upon his tongue.

A clattering sound resonates in your vicinity, Dwayne wrestling his belt off of his hips as his jeans sag upon his frame. He’s swift, wrangling his pants aside with one hand, the other clutching onto your pretty throat like a vice, evoking a string of sinful noises from your mouth. You kiss him with a desperation that he matches tenfold.

His hips brush against yours, and the distance is nonexistent, closed by your stoic paramour, whose normally-cold gaze reflects with a semblance of warmth. Your hands clamor for his broad shoulders, sinking into the expanse of bronze skin, nails clamping down when he drags the head of his cock against your cunt.

“Speak up, sweet girl.” Dwayne grunts, lips ghosting above the shell of your ear. He thoroughly enjoyed your begging on occasion, with this happening to be one of those occurrences. His lips briefly press against the side of your face, stubble grazing across your silken complexion.

With an agonizing pace, he continued to toy with you, pushing his cock against your entrance, but declining to go any further. A pained whine escaped you as you tilted yourself closer. The hand around your throat squeezes, effectively commanding your attention.

“Please,” You sputter, squirming in delight whenever those veined digits tense around the slender expanse of your jugular. “Dwayne, please,” Your simpering pleas are met with a hiss as he sluggishly sinks into you, inch by inch. He lets out another shallow rumble when your fingers brazenly dig into his shoulder. “Please move!”

Cold-blooded and dangerous — but not to you, not now. The icy temperature of his flesh swallows the warmth wafting from you as he invades your space, musculature eclipsing any light. His shadow falls across you, visage awash with his own carnal delight. You’re tight around him, aided by your arousal.

Another satisfactory snarl rips forth from his mouth, echoing next to your ear. You wrap your legs around his broad hips, gasping when he began to move. His cock hit new depths, pulling halfway out before Dwayne pushed himself back in again. His pace was rhythmic and passionate — not sloppy or too rough.

The pad of his thumb draws circles along the curve of your jawline, the rest of his hand tight around your windpipe. You moan, legs locked like a vice as he continues to roll his hips forward, cock battering its way into your cunt with a domineering force. Dwayne was taking it easy on you — if he lost control, it wouldn’t be very pretty for either of you.

His lips find yours, kissing you fervently as you reciprocate in a flurry of passion. Heat bled from you, arousal seeping from your core as Dwayne continued to rut into you, one hand splayed beside your head. The sparkling sheen of his ring glints in the lower light, mouth relentlessly assaulting yours in a barrage of kisses.

Dwayne grunts into your mouth, but the entanglement is shortlived as he moves to cover parts of your neck in kisses — whatever parts aren’t covered by his hand. You feel the sudden scrape of razor-sharp fangs drifting over your flesh, testing your resolve. You shudder, eyes fluttering shut as you grip and pull on his hair.

Sometimes you simply forgot that he was a specter of the night, a fanged creature who had the capability to rip you apart at any moment. His fangs continue to hover across your neck before they retracted, lips replacing them as he kissed your pulse point. There was an added element of thrill and exhilaration as you whimpered, his name spilling from your mouth over and over again.

You nearly see stars when he pistons himself into you again, slow and savoring you, enjoying the sluggishness of it all as Dwayne continues to drag out his thrusts. Your cunt clenches pathetically around his length, prompting you to whimper and moan, goosebumps coalescing along your spine.

“More,” It was incoherent, a string of needy babbles that escaped you in droves. “Dwayne, please,” You whimpered, chewing at your lower lip. In the midst of his own pleasure, Dwayne’s calculating stare flickered toward you — it wasn’t a good idea. “Please, please fuck me.” You begged, hearing the growl that echoed deep from within his chest.

“You sure?” Dwayne didn’t want to hurt you, but he was inclined to obey your needy command. Another grunt escaped him as he steadily rutted away into your tight cunt, deliberating in the midst of it all. “Won’t be gentle.” His stark warning was concrete, you knew this — you knew exactly what you were getting yourself into.

Swallowing the growing lump within your throat, you nodded several times over, digits gently curling around his wrist. “Yeah.” You panted, chest fluttering with a tight sensation as he gave you a hasty, passionate kiss, a parting gift as he squeezed at your jugular. That steady rhythm began to pick up instantaneously.

Dwayne made sure to watch you closely, gaze hawkishly trained upon your body as he began to fuck you. The intensity and the heat rose like a tidal wave, consuming the both of you as he pounded away at your poor cunt. Your legs rattled like leaves, attempting to stay locked around his waist.

The taut muscles of his shoulders and abdomen worked in-tandem, body effortlessly exerting strength. For him, it was nothing — for you, it was a different experience entirely. He was rough, manhandling you with one hand as he grabbed at your hips, enough to leave behind faint impressions in the form of bruises.

Moving in Stereo still swallowed any background noise, encompassing the whole of Dwayne’s nest. You were a complete and utter mess, devolving into a puddle of sweet moans and needy whimpers, especially whenever he applied pressure around your throat. He squeezed whenever he thrust into you, force akin to that of a barely-restrained battering ram.

Even in his self-proclaimed roughness, Dwayne was still executing some measure of restraint. “Mine,” His thunderous voice swarmed you from all sides as he fucked you into submission, gritting pearlescent teeth together as he approached his climax. You kept nodding, back arching into his touch.

“Dwayne,” Dwayne — it feels like the only word you’re capable of saying, rolling from your tongue with a wanton moan. You tug on his tresses with an urgency, feeling his hips grind against yours, flesh kissing flesh with unyielding thrusts. His cock continues to bury itself deep inside of your needy slit until it can go no further. “S—Shit! Right there!” You cry.

He huffs, musculature flat against you, chest to chest as you coax him in for another kiss. You whimper into his mouth when his tongue tangles with yours like a heat-seeking missile, teeth breaking the thin skin of your lower lip. Pearls of crimson trickle onto his tongue, fusing lust with hunger — all for you.

Dwayne didn’t stop, showing no signs of stopping as he fucked the both of you through an orgasm, painting your cunt in hot ropes of seed. He doesn’t pull out, a sensation that the two of you feed off of. If it weren’t for his vampirism, you’d be round with his children — the fantasy would continue to linger on for as long as he pleased.

“Shit, Mama,” Dwayne’s strained baritone sends shivers throughout your body. He rarely talks during sex, and this felt like a treat as he continued to thrust into you, feeling your nails dig angry crescents into his shoulder. He groans, savoring the feeling of your constant tugging on his mane of dark tresses. “You’re perfect.” His voice tapered off into a possessive growl.

You want to scream, a raging fire surging throughout your body before it finally comes to an end, extinguished by Dwayne’s rough rutting. He could’ve kept it up, continued all night long with his cock stuffed inside of you, but humanity was both a blessing and a curse. Your thighs shook underneath his grasp, and he began to slow, pressing kisses along your collarbone.

His hand left behind a searing brand around your throat — whether or not the imprints are visible, it’s the sensation that refuses to leave. Your windpipe feels a little sore, but it’s a pleasant burn as he comes to a crawl, nestling his forehead against yours.

The excitement and blissful thrill of the moment steadily begins to fade, composure replacing a very heavy lust. Your heart thrums beneath your breast, beginning to crawl to a more uniform beat as you nudge forward, kissing Dwayne again. Your lips are swollen, split down the middle with a patch of dried cruor.

Dwayne’s exhale of relaxation comes after, and the tension within his body unfurls. He kept himself inside of you still, feeling your poor cunt clench around his cock when he adjusted his position. His kiss is astoundingly tender this time around, able to taste the pang of copper upon your lip, accompanied by your natural sweetness.

A sense of euphoria overwhelms you, body feeling wonderfully heavy as Dwayne peppered kisses all along your jaw and collarbone. “You alright?” He murmured, making sure that he hadn’t pushed the limit with you. It was easy to become lost in the moment, forget about your humanity.

You nodded, wincing slightly when he pulled out of you, resting his head against your stomach, arms encircling themselves around you. “Better than alright,” You mused, tracing your fingers throughout his hair. “You think Paul will mind that we borrowed his stereo?” Laughter burst forth from your mouth.

A bemused huff escaped Dwayne as he reached over with one muscled arm, hitting the ‘NEXT’ track on the boombox. He pulled you close, nose wrinkling in disdain as Drive by The Cars came on — it wasn’t exactly his taste in music.

“Like you said,” He rumbled, peering up at you with a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. His arms effortlessly tugged you down to his level, lips twitching into a faint smirk, rare for Dwayne yet mesmerizing all the same. His mouth brushed above yours. “Joint custody.”

#the lost boys x reader #the lost boys x you #slasher x reader #slasher x you #tlb dwayne x reader #dwayne tlb x reader #the lost boys fanfiction #the lost boys #slasher fanfiction #slasher fanfic #slasher fandom #slasher x y/n #the lost boys 1987

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jeannineee · 8 months

Text

Closure (Ⅱ)

Azriel x Reader

a/n: part two is here :) comment if you want to be added to the taglist in part 3. Quickly edited!!

PART ONE

PART THREE

warnings: angst, slight hints at depression, smut (18+ please)

“If you’re not going to eat your bacon…” Cassian trailed off, eyeing your half-eaten breakfast.

You slid your plate across the table. “Have at it.”

Mor swatted the back of Cassian’s head as he devoured the food you gave him, a scowl on her face. “She needs to eat, dumbass.”

Cassian spoke with his mouth full, “She was finished!”

“I was finished, Mor,” you interjected, rising from the table. “I’ll be in my study.”

“You’ve been in there a lot, lately,” Cassian said, with Mor shooting him a condescending glare in response.

“I’ve been busy,” you lied smoothly. “I’ve a lot to prepare, especially with the visit to the Hewn City happening tomorrow.”

Something like concern shone in the pair’s eyes, but they both knew better than to speak of it. Cassian refocused his attention to the plate before him as Mor nodded. “Let me know if you need anything.”

You didn’t so much as glance over you shoulder as you made your way to your study. You shut the wooden door after entering, refusing to look in the mirror to your right. You were almost certain of what your reflection would look like, anyway.

Azriel hadn’t spoken to you in almost two weeks. Not a single word, after the night you told him about wanting to end your…whatever situation you had going on with him.

Mother above, you missed him. It wasn’t the sex that you missed, as good as it was. You missed him. You missed his presence, his conversation.

Azriel wasn’t quite ignoring you, but he wasn’t going out of his way to speak to you, either. When it came to Elain, however, he was more than happy to drop everything for her.

You knew you shouldn’t be jealous. Azriel wasn’t yours, nor were you his. But each time he approached Elain, rage boiled through you, so unrelenting you often had to walk away for fear of what you’d do to her.

You could thank the mating bond for that.

Based on his behavior, you were almost certain that Azriel hadn’t felt the bond yet. Or perhaps he had, and chose to ignore it.

Or maybe he didn’t want to be your mate?

Or perhaps he’d never feel the bond, and you’d never know the answer to that question.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Hewn City hadn’t changed from your last visit.

Rhys and Feyre stood perched on the throne, overlooking the crowd. Some danced, some conversed, while others outright stared at the High Lord and Lady, and their Inner Circle—likely in fear.

As they should.

You’d joined Rhysand’s inner circle almost three hundred years ago. You were no stranger to the doings of the Court of Nightmares. Still, every visit had you itching to return home to Velaris.

You leaned against one of the columns towards the back of the throne room, unable to hide your lack of interest. Mor and Cassian were lost to the crowd, and Azriel was…you didn’t know where he was.

Sighing in boredom, you picked at the fabric of your dress—which, in truth, left little to the imagination. Such was normal in the Court of Nightmares.

As if in response to your previous thoughts, the bond in your chest roared to life as the spymaster approached you, his blue siphons gleaming, wings tucked in tightly.

“You look like you’re having fun,” Azriel said, voice dripping with sarcasm as his shadows swirled around the two of you.

You scoffed. “That’s all you have to say to me? Two weeks without so much as a ‘hello,’ and that’s the first thing you say?”

Azriel’s jaw clenched, and you bit the inside of your cheek as his annoyance flooded through the bond.

“I’ve been busy.”

“With Elain,” you snapped, too angry to rein in your jealousy. “How’s her garden coming along?”

“Why do you care about Elain?”

“Because she’s taking all of your time.”

“You aren’t entitled to any of my time,” Azriel spat, more pissed off than you’d ever seen him.

The words stung, but they were true. You took a step back, trying to ignore the tears stinging your eyes. Azriel took notice, his expression immediately softening.

“I didn’t mean that, y/n.”

You ignored him, instead leaving the throne room, heading out into the empty hall. Azriel was quick to follow, grabbing your arm, and whirling you around to face him as he said, “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” you replied, pulling away from his grasp, and continuing down the hall. “Your…relationship with Elain is none of my business. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Don’t do that,” Azriel said, closely following behind.

“Do what?” You kept your gaze trained ahead as you stalked down the hall, eyes burning.

“Don’t act like it doesn’t affect you.”

“It doesn’t affect me.”

Azriel grabbed you again, pulling you from the hall, into an empty study. “I see how you look at Elain.”

Your breath stopped short in your lungs. Your surprised eddied into hurt. “Don’t be mean, Azriel.” The words sounded childish; weak as they left you. “Don’t be mean.”

“I’m not trying to be mean—“

“Then stop mentioning Elain. I know how you feel about her, and you obviously know how I feel about her. I don’t need you to rub salt in the wound.”

Azriel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You said there’d be no strings attached.”

“You created that rule.”

“And you agreed.”

“What do you want, Azriel?” You were frustrated. Hurt. But most of all, you were tired.

Azriel blinked—the most surprise he’d ever show. “I want to know what you have against Elain. Why do you dislike her so much?”

“I don’t dislike her.”

“You’re lying.”

“Why does it matter?”

“Because you’re my friend,” Azriel answered, taking a step toward you.

There was that word again. That word that carved your heart out each time he said it.

Friend.

“Why do you dislike her?” Azriel pressed again, close enough now that you had to tilt your head back to meet his eyes.

“Because you’re in love with her!”

Azriel froze.

Your shoulders dropped, the tears you’d so desperately tried to stave away now streaming down your face. “Y-You’re in love with her. And I can’t—I can’t stand it.”

Azriel only stared. And stared. You’d never seen the Shadowsinger in such a state—in shock.

“Say something,” you breathed, wiping at the tears on your cheeks. “Please.”

Please. Such a pitiful word. Weak. Childish.

Azriel opened his mouth, as if to respond. Instead, he rushed forward, pressing his lips to yours. He brought one hand to the nape of your neck, the other to the small of your back, deepening the kiss.

You melted into his touch on instinct, cursing yourself for the small whimpers that escaped you as his tongue explored your mouth.

Azriel backed you into the wall, attaching his lips to your jaw, your neck. Your hands trailed down his chest, his stomach, before stopping at the waist of his leathers, working to undo the buckles.

It took little time for you to free his length from the confines of his leathers. He groaned into your mouth as you stroked him, the sound heightening your arousal.

Azriel lifted you against the wall, and you wrapped your legs around him. His eyes met yours, and as he slid into you, you decided you could die like this. You could learn to accept having some of him. Something was better than nothing.

You needed him. Needed him like air, or water.

Perhaps you should feel shame, or regret, for being so content with having only pieces of him, while Elain gets everything he has to offer.

But each thrust of his hips silenced any protest that might have come to the surface. Each murmured praise, each caress of his lips on your skin felt like a prayer that only he could answer.

And as he brought you over the edge, his name was the only word you could manage. His touch was the only thing you cared about—anchoring you to the world; a lifeline.

Your name sounded sweet as honey on his lips as Azriel found release within you. He remained connected to you as the two of you regulated your breathing, his lips still sloppily, tiredly claiming your own.

Azriel slowly eased out of you, helping you to your feet. He reverently fixed your dress, your hair, his face so soft, touch so gentle you almost wanted to cry.

Some small, insecure part of you couldn’t help but wonder if he treated Elain like this. Had he taken her to bed yet? Would he?

The thought of Elain and Azriel touching one another…your stomach churned.

“Are you alright?” Azriel asked.

“Yes.”

A pretty lie. You shouldn’t have done this.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Azriel studied you a moment longer, before relenting. “We should probably go back separately…”

As if you weren’t already seen leaving together.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Sure. Go ahead. I’ll be a few minutes.”

Azriel gave you a final once-over. He looked inclined to speak, but decided against it as he left you alone.

The bond writhed within you. It called to Azriel, urging you to go to him, to say anything, do anything.

But you stood, frozen. Unmoving.

~~~~~~~~~

You were unsure of how much time had passed before you finally made your way back to the throne room. You tried your best to shove away your encounter with Azriel—to pretend it didn’t happen.

It was near impossible, with his hazel eyes being glued to you all night. Even more so, as he glared at any male who dared to walk your way.

You told him you wanted to end things, to stop the casual sex. Yet here you were, only weeks later, spreading your legs for him again.

What the hell were you getting yourself into?

~~~~~~~~~~

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#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar headcanon #acotar fanfiction #acomaf #acotar smut #smut #female reader #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #Azriel angst #Azriel #angst #acotar angst

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randombush3 · 9 months

Text

roadside romance

leila ouahabi x reader

summary: when leila’s car breaks down, you come to the rescue

words: 2037

notes: this is an ode to british weather and hot mechanics. i know nothing about cars but i learnt something while writing this!!!!

this was requested btw 🫡

It’s just fucking inconvenient. A closure on the motorway means that they have to take a detour down winding, country roads. And Leila has a sneaking suspicion that her car is going to stop functioning at any given minute now that the blinking, red light has become a permanent fixture on her dashboard.

Leila had looked at her friends apprehensively the minute the light had appeared, but Ona didn’t care and Laia was too wrapped up in posting their day trip to Blackpool on her Instagram to offer any worthwhile advice.

So, lacking expertise and a good enough grasp of English geography to find a nearby mechanic, Leila had carried on with their journey. It was only another hour to Manchester after all.

Which leads them to now, stranded on the side of the road. Laia and Leila stood outside of the car, while Ona spreads out as she naps in the backseat, none the wiser to the situation they have landed themselves in.

“Can’t you just fix it?” Laia asks her friend as they stare at the bonnet helplessly. “You seem like you know how to fix cars.”

Leila places an uncertain hand on the shiny metal, wondering if she even knows how to get the bonnet open. “That’s Mapi, not me. I have no idea what to do.”

They try to call someone, but there is no service and no pavement to walk down the road to see if elsewhere has a few more bars.

Frankly, it’s so unlucky that this has happened that Laia and Leila both have to hold in their laughter, not wanting the other to think they don’t understand how bad the situation actually is. Because, being stuck in a foreign country with no service and no knowledge about the inner-workings of a car is quite comical. It would be a great scene of a movie.

It’s Ona, when she returns to the land of the living, who comes up with a solution.

The defender gets out of the car, joining her friends as they sit on the grass verge adjacent to the road. “We’ve just got to wait here and look like three damsels in distress until someone drives past and helps us.” Though Leila knows she could probably think of something better if she really put her mind to it, she agrees to Ona’s plan, too lazy to do anything other than wallow in her misery. Now she’s going to have to take her car to the mechanic, and she hates doing things like that here because she has to drag Hempo with her to translate strong Mancunian accents into normal, more understandable English.

…

“Yeah, I’m coming. The motorway’s just chock-a-block and so I’ve taken a back route,” you tell your impatient sister, who is annoyed that you are late to her daughter’s birthday party. “Don’t be angry with me, be angry with the M6.” She chides you for your tardiness anyway, and you internally curse her for moving to Blackpool. It’s not like she’s a ballroom dancing fan or anything.

The countryside looks miserable when it’s just your car zipping down the empty roads, and it doesn’t help that the grey sky above makes you think it’s going to rain. While you have lived in Manchester your whole life and strive to not get bummed out by the weather, it makes you a little annoyed that the country can’t get its act together. You wish you had the power to teleport to Spain or something.

You pity anyone who is stuck outside as it begins to drizzle.

…

“Can we get in the car now?” Ona whines, completely going back on her plan after feeling the droplets of rain hit the top of her head. “I don’t want to get wet.”

“Please, Leila,” Laia adds. She hopes to sway her friend's adamance to stay where they can be seen, in case a helicopter flies over and lands in a nearby field to offer their aid (which seems more likely than someone driving past at this point).

“No, it’s only a bit of rain,” she tells her friends. A low rumble of thunder echoes in the fields. Ona and Laia raise their eyebrows. “Fine. You two be pathetic. I’ll stay here, doing the saving.”

“Our hero,” Laia replies sarcastically, chasing after Ona as she sprints to the car. “Have fun getting wet!”

It begins to chuck it down.

When a black Ford pulls up, a bit further up the road, coming from the direction they were heading in, and you get out, Leila finds that getting soaked has become worth it.

“Are you alright?” you shout to her, crossing the road and walking along the grass verge to get a better look at what is happening.

“My car is not working!” Leila shouts back.

You frown, approaching the brunette with concern. She has had to sit in the rain so that someone notices her. You’re a sympathetic person.

“Hi,” Leila says shyly as you help her up, wiping the water from her eyes so that she can see you properly.

“Hi.” You give her a once-over (solely for the purpose of checking she’s okay), and then turn to her car. “What’s wrong with it?” She squints at the sound of your strong accent, and you flush red, embarrassed. “What is wrong with your car?” you repeat with more clarity.

“I don’t know.”

“Was there a red light on the dash?” Leila’s vindication comes out in a muttered Spanish swear, before she nods and follows you down the verge to the road. “Can you pop the bonnet? I’ll give it a look.”

And, while you are doing that, Leila is giving you a look. Along with Ona and Laia.

“Es guapa,” an enviably dry Ona comments to her friends as Leila settles in the driver’s seat. You have instructed her to stay put for a moment while you puzzle at the state of her engine, wanting to know what is wrong before you explain it to the pretty woman you have found on the side of the road.

“Y lesbiana,” Laia points out as you tie your sopping hair up into a bun. Your t-shirt is so soaked that it is no longer of any use, so you pull it up over your head, getting to work in just your bra after wringing out enough water to fill a swimming pool. On your wrist is a bracelet from a Pride event you were dragged to by your friend the other day. You are secretly hoping Leila notices it. “Lei, dile tu nombre. Coquetea con ella.”

“Sí, pregúntale cuál es el problema.”

Leila scoffs, unimpressed with herself at how easily they have picked up on her attraction to you.

“Va. Es de Manchester, también.”

“Guapa, local, y lesbiana. Es perfecta.”

“No sé…” Leila starts, undecided as to whether she should let them convince her she has a chance or not.

Just when Laia and Ona are about to list more of your enticing physical qualities, you appear by the door, knocking on the window to tell her to open it.

“Good to see you’ve dried off a bit,” you joke, feeling as though you are so drenched that you will never be dry again. Leila blushes, but you are unsure whether it's because your joke is terrible or because her friends in the backseat have squashed together in the middle so that they can see what’s happening. You clear your throat. “So it’s a coolant leak. Took me a minute to realise half the water on the ground was actually your coolant and not the rain, but I figured it out eventually! The radiator’s hose clamps were damaged and, obviously, they’ve failed…”

But Leila isn’t listening to you telling her what is wrong with her car, because her friends are whispering in Spanish about how good you look topless. And she is inclined to agree with them.

It is only when you stop talking and the white noise of your ramble is no longer present that she realises what has happened, and she snaps out of staring at you. “Perdón, please could you repeat that?” It’s a phrase she has become very accustomed to, after all.

You laugh, and Leila likes the sound of it very much. “There was a leak, but I can fix it for you. If you’d like?”

“Yes!” Ona answers for her, making Leila practically jump out of her skin.

At Leila’s apparent hesitance, you remember you never introduced yourself to the three women in need of a car mechanic. It’s handy that that is exactly what you do for a living. “Fuck, sorry. I’m Y/n.” You hold out your hand for her to shake, and ignore the tingles where your skin meets hers. “I’ll need, like, an hour to do it, but I can. I’m a mechanic.”

“Es tan perfecta,” Laia giggles, poking Leila to remind her to tell you her name too.

“My name is Leila. I am not a mechanic, but can you… teach me?”

It’s an excuse to watch you fix her car.

You both know it.

“Yeah, sure. I have an umbrella in my car, and I’ll need to get my toolkit and stuff. I’ll bring it over, and then you won’t get wet.”

“I already am.”

You blush, though you know it’s probably not what she meant. All three of them speak with strong Spanish accents, reminding you of your grandmother.

…

It takes slightly longer than expected to sort out the clamps, but you don’t mind having an excuse to not go to a little kid’s birthday party. You love your niece, but the thought of thirty hyper five-year-olds running around and begging you to play with them makes you gulp. You’d rather arrive when the guests have left and your niece has crashed from her inevitable sugar-high.

Leila stands beside you as you work, holding the umbrella above both of your heads. You are too focused on your task to see her check you out every so often, but she has left the car door open so you can hear the eager encouragement from her friends. Ona even takes a picture because the scene is so hilarious.

“What does this do?” Leila quizzes as you finish up, pointing at the engine and enjoying the way you answer so effortlessly. “And this? And that?”

You wipe the sweat (and rain) from your brow, sighing as you step back to observe your work. For an impromptu fix-up on the side of the road, it’s not bad. She may need to bring her car into the garage to get it properly sorted once she gets to her destination.

“Could I borrow your phone?” you ask after catching her staring. It gives you a surge of confidence.

Confused, Leila nods, handing it over to you.

“Mi madre es de España.” All three Spanish women feel their mouths open in shock. And horror. And the realisation that you definitely heard everything they have been saying about you.

Leila feels like jogging to the nearest motorway and diving in front of a truck.

“I’ll give you my number and you can update me on the car? You’ll need to get someone to look over it more thoroughly.”

“Sí,” Leila breathes, hoping that you are signing yourself up for that job.

“I’m based in Manchester, so if that’s convenient, you could always bring it into my garage.”

“We live in Manchester too,” Laia helpfully shouts from inside the car. “And she will do that!”

“And… I could also text you a restaurant where you can ask me even more questions about car engines over dinner?” You grin at her, and she grins back.

“Sí, por favor.”

“It was nice to meet you, Leila,” you say slowly, pleased with yourself but dignified to hold in your cheering until your return to your own car.

“Igualmente,” Leila replies, handing you your t-shirt that you had previously discarded onto the floor. She’s still embarrassed that you understood what her friends said about you, but at least that means she now has a date.

Or two.

Or three.

It depends on how many more problems she can find with her car.

#woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #leila ouahabi #leila ouahabi x reader

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grapementos · 11 months

Text

perseverance

aged up bakugo x reader

pt. 3 to this

numerous panic attacks had ensued since you were discharged from the hospital, but not all of them reached their final stages like the first had.

you’d grown better at grounding yourself and having some semblance of control over your anxiousness. slowly but surely, you felt the pain ebbing away.

it would never be gone completely, you knew, and every day you questioned the possibility of things being different.

what if katsuki hadn’t quit being a hero? what if he’d proposed just as he’d planned to? would your wedding have been beautiful? your marriage successful and healthy?

there were so many what ifs that hurt your heart just to think about.

yet, all you did was think about it—in the best, healthiest way.

you set aside your pride and fears and confided not only in your friends, but in a therapist. you had sessions weekly, and every time you walked out of the office, you felt a little lighter.

for the first time, you understood that it was okay to still love katsuki, to still want to be with him. in fact, they initially expressed how they wished the two of you had tried couples therapy before everything went south.

that was another what if that hurt.

you were always the more rational, levelheaded one. why hadn’t you thought of it, encouraged it? would it have made a difference? those thoughts kept you awake at night, haunting your mind and mocking you with images of a perfect life with katsuki. the life you could've had.

those thoughts were bumps in your path to recovery. it was only through those thoughts, however, that you learned that the road wasn't linear. you had amazing days when you felt strong and independent, days when you'd feel like you were in a colgate commercial. other days, you wanted to set your apartment on fire and disappear. you wanted to scream until your voice was gone, vocal chords torn to shreds. some days, you just wanted everything to stop.

through the good and the bad, you were able to persevere through the challenging navigation of a breakup. still, you granted yourself permission to still love him. to be in love with him. that love would never just vanish, you'd realized a few months into your journey. it dulled, flickered, and faded, but never vanished.

you'd found that implementing a routine in your daily life had greatly improved your overall mental health.

this morning, you turned on the news as you made yourself breakfast--a meal you forced yourself to consume, no matter how little it was.

as you grabbed what you needed from the cupboards, a name in the news had you pausing everything.

"...following his spontaneous philanthropic streak, former hero dynamight announces that he will be hosting a tell-all session at our local library. there, he intends to, quote, 'make amends with those i might have hurt with my words, actions, or lack thereof...' well, you heard it here. don't miss a valiant display of heroic vulnerability today at noon. in other news..."

you gaped at the tv, the glass bowl slipping from your suddenly clammy fingers.

philanthropic streak? where had you been?

the sound of the glass breaking reached your ears a whole minute after it hit the ground, snapping you out of your dumbfounded stupor.

"shit," you cursed, crouching down to pick up the pieces.

no, don't even think about it.

you looked at the clock, reading 8 as the time. plenty of time for you to get dressed and go.

no.

you could easily make it in time and sit in the back, just to see him and hear what he had to say.

no.

you'd wear something inconspicuous and hide in the back, just being silent. and then you'd leave, after ten minutes.

no.

every no carried a little bit of yes at the end of it, forcefully dragging you out of the kitchen and into the bathroom for a shower. it was closure, you argued to yourself, closure that you desperately needed.

it's going to be excuses, nothing but lies.

dark clothes are the best choice, you decided, anxiously changing into something you deemed inconspicuous. just ten minutes, it was all you needed.

don't throw all your progress away for ten minutes.

you stared at the mirror, trying to find a single good reason to stay home. yet, every thought in your mind convinced you that this, this is what you needed. you needed to hear him express his regret, his remorse to other people. people who once trusted and supported him in his endeavors, only to be woefully let down by his bouts of anger.

this will just make you hurt more. don't do this.

you discarded every invasive voice in the back of your brain and found yourself at the library come noon, hidden behind a bookshelf. you browsed the shelves with unseeing eyes, thoughts drowned out by the low murmur of the large crowd seated in front of the small stage in the center.

the library was home to many plays around the city, which you found ironic. would this be another display of dramatism and lies?

just as you found a book with a flattering cover, the mic whined with a little feedback.

"sorry about that."

you knew the voice, but the genuineness was foreign to you. you peeked over the row of books, your blood running cold as you saw katsuki sitting meekly on a chair on the stage.

"hello, everyone. i'm, uh, i'm bakugo katsuki, but most of you might know me as dynamight," he began, scanning the crowd, "a lot of you might not be fond of me based, um, based on my time as a hero."

many voices mumbled in agreement at that, which made him laugh, just the slightest. it made your chest swell with pride he didn't deserve.

"and i really don't blame you. i carried a lot of my immaturity from high school into adulthood. my biggest problem was that i saw heroism as a means to an end, a," he motioned with his hands, trying to find the words, "a stepping stone to being 'the best'--whatever that means. and i got lost in my obsession with my image."

you listened intently, at least half sure that you were listening to a complete stranger talk. the katsuki you knew had nowhere near this much humility.

"with that being said, my first apology goes to you, the people of this beloved city. you deserved someone who had your best interest at heart, and i'm sorry that couldn't be me. but, rest assured, i am very familiar with the current top ten and can say with confidence that they are the heroes you deserve."

you found yourself tearing up at his words, so awestruck by the complete 360 in his persona.

the crowd cheered at his words, as pleasantly surprised with his chanage as you were.

"thank you," he chuckled when the crowd quieted down, "next, i'd like to apologize to my friends and family. they definitely got some of the worst of it. for years, they suggested therapy for the anger that i just couldn't seem to control. and for years, brushed them off, over and over again. i insisted that my anger was fuel for my quirk, when in reality, it was detrimental. dangerous. so, mom, dad, all my friends, i'm sorry it took me so long to take your advice. thank you for standing by me."

you werent sure if the session was being broadcasted, but you sure hope it was. kirishima, mina, sero, and denki deserved to hear it. more than that, you were shocked to discover that he'd also been in therapy. so he really meant it..

another round of applause.

"last, and most important," he sucked in a sharp breath, "i'd like to apologize to the love of my life."

you stilled, as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over your head. no, no way.

"i spent three amazing years with the only person i could ever see myself loving. they were the most patient, the most kind person you could ever imagine. they stood by me during every slandering headline, every angry episode, every single ugly moment. they were there."

you covered your mouth and crouched down to the floor, squeezing you eyes shut. no, hell no, you refused to cry.

he exhaled shakily, rubbing a sweaty palm against his jeans, "they were devoted to me, to us. i'd be nothing without their impact on my life, and i've done the worst job at showing it. i," he stammered, scrunching his eyebrows together, "i ruined what we had, and i've never regret anything more. i know all the philanthropy and therapy and apologies in the world can never take back my insensitivity, but i will never stop being sorry, and i swear i'll grow every day."

you had to clamp your hand harder over your mouth to prevent any sniffles or sobs from escaping and alerting everyone to your presence. his words were so genuine, so wholehearted that you knew he truly had changed.

"i'll love them forever, regardless of if they hate me. with that love, i'll destroy any semblance of the douchebag-asshole-monster i used to be." he smiled out to the crowd as a final goodbye, "thank you, everyone. you don't owe me your forgiveness, but i hope you'll consider forgiving me one day."

people clapped, whistled, cheered for him as he turned off the mic.

meanwhile, your heart was racing. you didn't have a single coherent thought in your mind other than the fact that he loved you. he loves you.

he wasn't begging or crying this time, his acts weren't out of desperation. he was completely and totally vulnerable in front of a group of people that he didn't even know included you.

as people flooded out of the library, you shakily pushed yourself to your feet. what now? how could you possibly be expected to walk all the way to your car and drive home in this state of mind?

with a quick breathing technique your therapist taught you, you calmed down enough to get your hands to stop trembling.

katsuki had started helping the security guards pick up and stack the chairs, making small talk with them as they cleaned up the area.

you wiped at your cheeks, hoping they weren't too blotchy. with a quiet breath, you silently crept away from behind the bookshelf and toward the exit.

unfortunately, your far-from ninja-like skills couldn't get past the years of hero instincts engraved in every muscle fiber of katsuki's body.

"y/n?"

you froze, shoulders tensing as you slowly turned around.

"hey, bakugo," you cleared your throat, averting your eyes, "that was, uh, that was nice of you. good job."

there was something undetectable in his face, something you couldn't put your finger on, "oh, thanks, i-" he stepped closer, but stopped when he sensed your hesitance, "i didn't expect to see you here."

"i didn't expect to be here." you said honestly, fidgeting with your fingers, "but i should, uh, probably get going."

he opened and shut his mouth a few times before he sighed and nodded, "okay. but i really meant it, you know? everything i said."

fuck, you were going to cry again. you didn't want to, not in front of him.

"i know." you nodded, "i don't.. hate you, you know? we both had issues that we chose to resolve separately."

"i just wish," he sighed, looking for the words, "i wish that was't the case."

you couldn't hold in your tears anymore, a few cascading down your cheek, but you quickly wiped them away.

"i know." you swallowed hard, trying to prevent your voice from doing that embarrassing, high-pitched crack, "i do too."

he opened his arms, offering a hug and you just couldn't say no. the space was so perfectly carved for you.

you hugged him tight, burying your face into his shoulder.

"i'm so sorry, y/n. i'm sorry for everything." he whispered into your hair, his voice wet with tears, "i never deserved you."

you just cried harder, knuckles white as you gripped onto the back of his shirt. you wanted to speak, to reassure him that it wasn't completely his fault, but you couldn't pause for a breath long enough to say a single word.

instead, the two of you dropped to the ground, arms wrapped around each other with a desperation that you only feel for each other. a once-in-a-lifetime desperation.

the two of you cried and held each other, and somehow you knew everything was going to be okay.

and this concludes the triology! thank you for the overwhelming support on this series that wasn't even meant to be a series!

taglist: @blackout-ice-biohazard @survivorofmath @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory @odessa-is-my-queen @firesmokeandashes @valentineshiftz @sil-ver-shadow @echosfadve

#my.archive.¥#anime #bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #angst #drabble #y/n #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki #bakusquad #katsuki bakugo x reader #x reader #gender neutral reader #grapeflop$

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rinbowaman · 6 months

Note

HI REINAA!! sorry if im bothering you since ur busy w the series fics!! But i would really want to req another fic of sunoo hahaha. So reader is 8th member and pleeeaaadseee make it rlyy smutty!! It could be where yn teases sunoo during dinner and he gets hard then... but plsss make sunoo a sub in this thanks <3 (Fyi ur literally the best writer ever idk how u manage to write these so descriptively and managing to make me feel things LMAOO the other accs i follow wont reply my asks ☠️) thanks alot like alooottttttttt though!! <33

”Sunoo Baby.”

part 2 of “Ddeonu”.

Warnings: Sub/switch!Sunoo, Dom!Reader, unprotected smut, creampie smut, oral (both male and female receiving, demeaning behavior, submissive demands, ball tapping (you already know...), whining, hair pulling, smut dialogue, reverse psychology (not really but i dont know what else to call it.....you'll see what i mean) if you squint, there's a breeding kink....i think that's it.

You and the boys decide to grab a bit at a local hot pot eatery. No one knew of the event that unfolded the week prior of you and Sunoo's 'talk', and believe you, there were many more that followed suit.

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

"Look at how cute you look when you take in so much muscle."

"You look so cute when you cry."

"Get up, cutie."

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

You had to admit, Sunoo opening up and becoming fond of you allowed for a whole new version of yourself to rise. You loved his sassy and demeaning manners, the way he called you 'cute' and revealing how the more feminine side of your nature was something he had been wanting to see ever since the group had debuted. You felt a weight lift off your shoulders once you realized that all it took was for you to lighten up on your tomboyish persona, and be...well, a girl, for once.

But now you were comfortable. You gained closure and have little reason to expose that girlish nature, such as crying in the middle of the night, all because you thought a certain someone didn't like you. Well you were partially right, there was definitely a dislike, but it wasn't you, just your lack of girly attributes, and the reluctant hesitancy of doing what is the most commonly, demanding act in the industry, the 'ayego's.

Throughout dinner, you observed the way his sharp eyes flickered back and forth between black and hazel under the heat lamp. He was so beautiful. He told you of how important it was to not let anyone know of the secret love affairs that had been ongoing, so naturally that only meant he had to play the part well in acting out as a very nonchalant bastard. Trust you to say, he played the part well.

He'd glance over from time to time, even winking while everyone was nose deep in the menu's, but for some reason, you weren't feeling terribly satisfied. Sure it was nice for him to 'like' you now. One could even say that he cared a great deal for you, considering what he's said to you in bed. But there was something about him that you had wanted to pin down and crush; you're not exactly sure why, but now that there was closure between you two, you felt the need to establish yourself as the equal, especially since he caught you crying.

You ignored his advances, and even rolled your eyes at one point. He took note of your rather obscured behavior, and furrowed his brows in worry when no one was looking. You flared a side shoulder hunch while looking at him directly, mouthing the whispered words of "I'm going to destroy you."

Now Sunoo had an attitude of his own, but there was something rather peculiar when it came to someone matching his level. It's never happened before, yet he had to say, he was kind of digging it. He reaches below the table to gently tap his fingers along your kneecap, only for you to slap his hand way so roughly. Wincing slightly, he nearly gasps after witnessing your response to his touch.

"How could she?...."

He reiterates his action, only for yo to repeat your previous response and slap his hand away once more. Confused, Sunoo couldn't tell if he should have been offended or desired more of whatever game it was you were playing at. Something told him that it was the latter, and that 'something' was hardening under his trousers.

"Oh God..." he whispered under his breath, trying to shake his legs out strategically without anyone noticing. Nothing helped, even the cold ice water that he had 'accidently' dropped on his lap. The car ride home had to be the longest drive he felt in so long...

Once you all got back to the dorm, you bid goodnight and head to your room. Everyone else did the same, and went to sleep with fully tummies. Sunoo, on the other hand, was still hungry, and the way you had been treating him at dinner, he was famished.

Knocking on your door, he enters. "What's up with you? What was up with dinner?"

"Never mind. I'm going to bed."

"Why are you being so---"

"So what?....Cute?" you scoffed out as you raised a brow his way. "I'm glad we got to clarify our feelings, I just wish you could embrace my tomboy-ish ways just as you can with my feminine manners."

Sunoo gulps down a lump of saliva. "Well then...show me."

"What?"

"I got a taste of it at dinner...and....not gonna lie, I kind of want more." he admits, side-eyeing the wall out of embarassment. You never saw him this way, but considering he's loved on you for over a week now, maybe he really did see the light in all of your attributes, to include your non-girlish ones. Just to be sure, you put it to the test.

"Come here." you speak out in a rather high pitched, yet demanding tone. And just as you had suspected, he did exactly what you commanded. "Too easy..."

Grabbing onto his copper red hair, you pull his head back and expose that delicate throat of his. He gasps out with a masculine moan, yet it was as sweet as fruit nectar. You stick your lips onto the soft spot, and sucked profusely, just until a nice mark was left. "My territory." you exclaimed. You thought he would have bit back, yet you were somewhat surprised when he breathed out heavily and bid you to, "do more."

That was all he needed to say, and the tomboy sense in you reacted by pushing him down on your bedspread. You crawl atop of his broad frame, and perched yourself nicely on his groin. He whimpers out in feeling your pelvis grind against his sensitive member. "Aww...what a sweet face." you remark as you drag your finger down his cheek. You stand back up and with your arms crossed, you tell him to undress you...with his mouth.

You guide him with your words to start from the top, and work his way down. He removes your blouse, by kissing your belly button and grabbing hold of the material with his teeth, dragging it upward as he finishes in removing it. Your bra came off immediately after; your jeans were already removed before he entered your room, leaving only your panties remaining. Aiming to remove the last piece of cloth on your body, you tell him to...

"Get on all fours and take it off with your tongue."

He looks up rather bewildered and shocked, his eyes wide with a sense of wonderment. Nodding, he feeds his tongue in between where the cloth meets the plush lips that cradles your opening. God, it felt so good to feel that slick muscle squirming through, finding leverage to pull the material down.

Once he managed to find a way, he drags your underwear down your legs, the flat surface of his tongue grazes against the skin of your inner thighs and calves. Fully removed with you bare, you push him back down made haste as you crawled back on top, only this time, you didn't settle for his groin.

"Clean me real good."

Sitting on his face, his nose rubs the bud of your clitoris while his tongue shoves its way into your opening. He loops his hands up and over your thighs, grabbing hold of your derriere. You could tell by the way he slapped his palms on the cheeks, he was starving for you. You grab the front pieces of his hair and buried his face in deeper as you grind away, riding his tongue with a waving motion that made ocean water look stale.

"Oh my God! Keep going! Don't--don't stop! Don't fucking stop!"

You incorporate a slight bouncing motion as you felt his tongue thrusting in and out. You reach behind and pin his hands onto your lower back, continuously coasting his mouth, leaving him no chance to rest.

"Oh fuck I'm going to cum!" you whimpered out as you glazed his entire face. He licks it up, starting with soft and tiny licks, resembling a puppy. "Lick it all up for me." you tell him, at that point the slight bit of his dominant side comes out, the side you were familiar with. You watched as he narrows his eyes, watching how the puppy grew into a fox and emitted harsh, long licks from top to bottom.

You adjusted your position and became parallel to his frame. Grabbing hold at the base of his shaft, you whipped his length around, tapping it roughly against your tongue. He winces in a mixture of discomfort and pleasure; the sensitivity was almost unbearable, and though it would have been pleasing for you to handle him gently, there was something about feeling the sting of this sensation that made him crave more.

"Ah!" he hisses, indicating the pain overriding all other sensations. "Wan't me to return the favor, 'cutie'?" your tone was somewhat condescending, yet he didn't care. He needed the release so badly, and you were the only one that could give it to him. Nodding frantically, he begs you to give him what he needed.

"Beg some more." you coarsely tell him.

"Oh fuck! Please....pl-please....please, y/n....I'll do anything, just...just fuck me to pieces already!"

You gave off small, subtle licks on the shaft, placing soft kisses up and down while twirling your tongue around the bulbous tip. "Whose the cutie now?"

"You are...AH!"

It was rather bold of him to be so daring, yet a quick slap of your palm reminded him that you weren't playing anymore games. After all, dare he tell others that he didn't like you? He barely knew you! How dare he cause you to cry? Then all of a sudden became our knight in shining armor and came to your aid. How dare he...call you 'cute'?

"One more time, who is the cutie now?"

"Fuck! ah! me....it's me!"

Another slap to his ballsack did him in, and you felt delighted upon hearing him say it. "Still want me to destroy you?"

In a flickering moment, his eyes narrowed down even more, like tight slits, they were sharp enough to cut steel. "Oh yeah..." in a blink of an eye, his deep tone loses all whine and desperation, his arm loops around as he nearly picks your entire form up in the air and slams you down on the bed, tumbling over you. The tables had turned.

"Should of destroyed me when you had the chance, cutie."

"Stop calling me that!"

You fling your hands up, yet he pins them down in an instant, allowing the masculinity of his boyish nature to come through. "Cutie, cutie, cutie. I'm gonna fuck you...cutie."

Your eyes widen upon feeling him rushing in. He didn't even take the time to ease his way through, instead, you felt the shoving thickness and length tapping in, breaking through your walls as the stretch causes your back to arch.

"Yeah...I bet that feels so good..."

"S-slow....slow...d-down......slow down!" you barely could catch your breath, yet he remained ignorant to your words and kept up with his momentum. "But you're so cute when I fuck around with you."

The moment he was all in, you swallowed your words as the new pace he took on made his previous one seemed much slower and easy. Bringing back his whiny voice, he whimpers out in a begging tone, yet still maintained control. It was all so conflicting the way he spoke with his actions not at all mirroring his tone.

"Oh baby...please...please let me feel good....let me cum."

"W-what....Ssssunoo......what....what are you doing....to me!?" you gasped out, a roaring and thrilling sensation of ecstasy punctures your gut each time he thrusts in. "Oh baby....cute baby....I wanna cum so badly....I wanna cum inside you.....I'll be a good boy."

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you hear his desperate please, yet he continued to fuck you like a raging bull. You couldn't make any sense of it, but it didn't matter. Between hearing his high pitched cries and feeling his cock rupturing your entrance, you could feel the eruption of a bursting orgasm reaching through, it was unlike anything you had ever felt before.

"Oh! I'm....oh my God you're going to make me cum!" you gasped out, tears streaming down your cheeks as you furrowed your brows and looked up with both worry and desperation, expressing both fear for pregnancy and hope that he would not stop.

"My girl, let me cum! Please let me cum deep inside, I promise I'll be a good boy, okay? Just please let me put it all in..."

"Ah! Sssssunoo! Baby!" you felt your cavity flooding out as a rush of warm liquid splashes against his thrusting member, squelching against your skin as he continues to move in and out.

"Please baby! I...I can't hold it in much longer!"

"No Sunoo don't!" you pleaded, yet your heart wasn't all in. You wanted him to, you needed him to do it. There was just something so enthralling about having your words flaring the opposite of your heart's content, much like what he had been doing.

"Oh baby I can't help it! I'm going to cum!"

"Oh please! Sunoo don't! You're going to get me pregnant!"

"Baby I can't stop!"

"Sunoo!"

Your thighs vibrate as you feel the warm liquid seep deep inside your wet muscles. Pleading him to stop, yet wanting him to give you his all had brought about the most intense sexual vigor that you never though existed.

"Oh fuck baby.....cutie....my cute girl...I'm cumming....I promise to be good, just please let me cum inside you everyday, okay?"

Kissing your forehead, he rode out his high and kept up with the psychological collision of being verbally submissive, yet physically dominating. Perhaps to others it wouldn't make sense, but for you and him, it was your own love language that you both developed and embraced.

"Fine...." you caught your breath and speak in a soft tone. "I'll let you do it, but you have to promise me you'll be a good boy, and listen to what I say."

"Yes...my cute girl"

"Don't call me cute...Sunoo."

"Then don't call me 'baby.'"

Rolling your eyes, you both chuckle as you nod in agreement.

Your bodies remained plastered as you both felt the strength of fatigue kicking in, knocking you both out. Just before you drifted off, you took one last look at him. "Sunoo baby...my Sunoo..."

Asleep, you lay soundlessly as he opens both his fox eyes, hearing you mumble those words in secret. "My cute girl."

-Fin

Authors Note: @sunoosrightbuttcheek , i hope you dont mind, i added a little bit of a flare to the sub!sunoo and made him into a little bit of a switch sub/dom, just to make it a little more interesting for you 😏

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penny-anna · 5 months

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oh btw i read The Star Beast comic the other day n have Thoughts:

overall the TV episode struck me as a very solid & effective adaptation! other than the stuff about the Doctor & Donna's history there wasn't a huge amount of new material

can report that they defo DID amp up the ET parallels haha

really liked that the TV story had the Doctor work out that something was Up w the Meep rather than just having exposition handed to him, that was a good call

the comic does have a bit more emphasis on the relationship between the Meep & Sharon (Rose's analogue) which is actually something I thought was lacking in the TV story. in particular there's a good moment in the comic where the Meep tries his act on Sharon one last time after being arrested and she tells him to go to hell - would have liked to see some closure like that in the TV version but can see why they wanted the ending focused mostly on Donna, can't have everything ig

fun little fact!! Sharon is actually the very first black doctor who companion in any medium. so that's an interesting distinction The Star Beast has!

ANYWAY i found it on readcomiconline. u want to search for doctor who & then look for this entry:

#doctor who #doctor who spoilers

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cookies-over-yonder · 6 months

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"... In that moment, you, and Taylor, and Nick all realize that there is no fixing this. That this is as good as it's going to get. That you are all stuck with each other in the forms that you are now. You see daddy magic—that same daddy magic that exited Ron and Terry's body, emanate from their bodies like a fine mist, coalesce into the air, and then zip into the jar and fill it up a little bit more because that's what your relationship is."

The Close Family and Closure: An Analysis and Breakdown of Taylor's Issues in Hell or High Father

...and the way he addresses and, in Taylor fashion, downplays the problem, and denies its lack of solution.

(I have transcribed the majority of this scene, and below the cut is my line-by-line breakdown and analysis, as well as some other tid-bits.)

hello! ever since i got into dndads, taylor has been my favourite. i found his extreme escapism and dumb confidence fascinating, and as you may know, i love finding scenarios for him to break. it's, like, at least half of my fics at this point.

this episode is my favourite episode, it broke me, and it pieced me back together but Wrong in all the right ways.

this analysis is focusing on the taylor of it all. the motivation behind his words and the changes in his cadence and the denial that still, despite everything, refuses to fade.

i've never written an analysis post structured like this, so do let me know if you like it. i just... i really love taylor.

okay, let's go!

1. "Well...''

Nicky: … I didn't see a lot of Taylor's growing up and that was—that was fi—like we're cool now right, Taylor? Taylor: Fuck yeah dawg— Nicky: See?

to start off, taylor's instinctive answer is to agree with nicky. because well, yeah, they're chill now, that's true, so of course the first thing he does is agree. and i gotta say that i was expecting taylor to leave it at that, because he's not one to dig deeper when he doesn't need to, and even when he does.

Taylor: Well…

taylor says this immediately after his first answer and oh ny god i got SO excited. but this ain't about me. anyway. taylor finally admitting that they're actually not 100% cool is such a big fucking step argh i am so proud of him forever and also so sad for him forever...

Nicky: What? Look, I'm back now, and I'm super tight, and we hang out, and we can do samurai shit together, and we're fuckin'—we're tight as fuck.

this part makes me so sad because nicky is so ignorant to how his absence has affected taylor despite his frustrations at glenn for not being there. and also, this sort of reasoning would have worked on convincing taylor back in early season two. in fact, it did!

[Season 2 Episode 10: Dad Me To Hell]

taylor is completely satisfied with this reason because it feeds into his main character syndrome. his dad left to protect him. what better reason is there? and now he's back and there and able to do cool shit with him, so everything is perfect, right?

but the next thing taylor says is so fucking heartbreaking:

Taylor: If I'm gonna be honest, Dad, I've kinda been hoping and keeping an eye out for time travel magic so that we could go back in time, and you could be there for me.

the way he trails off as he says it, and he loses his confidence in his words... it shows an unfamiliar shyness. we've never seen taylor be this vulnerable before. and to think that he'd been holding out hope for time travel magic to fix his childhood? that perfectly aligns with the idea that taylor is so stuck in his anime escapist fantasy that he can't accept what's real. and magic is real, so therefore he must be able to fix his past, right? it's not impossible for there to be time travel (see. end of season 1 + see. attack on titanic.) but taylor doesn't realize that this is something that can't be fixed so easily, even if that magic were available. he doesn't believe that this can't be fixed. more on this later.

Nicky: [grunts and falls] Uh… um… I didn't know you felt that way. Taylor: Yeah, you know, it's just, when I was practicing my jutsus I could have used some pointers. Nicky: Yeah, but like— Taylor: As a result, I've developed a number of very bad habits that I'm told are very hard to break. And, you know, just watching YouTube videos is not the same as having a dad who can fight.

in the past, taylor has used anime to cope with his absent father, and he relied on the fictional characters to bring him the same comfort a father might bring (this was mentioned by freddie in one of the teen talks and while i've been relistening i've yet to find it. do forgive me as i am merely mortal) while this isn't directly referring to that, i still feel it's worth mentioning, as taylor is confronting his own unhealthy coping mechanism and acknowledging that no, youtube videos aren't a replacement for a dad. he couldn't fill the absence of a father with anything else in his life no matter how hard he tried.

also, taylor is smart. he knows that he has unhealthy coping mechanisms or "bad habits" that he can't break and he knows that they're caused by nicky's absence. i just wonder how long he's been stewing over that, you know?

as shown earlier, when taylor first met nicky and found out why he wasn't there, he accepted it immediately, knowing it was the coolest reason for a father to be absent and only fueled his protagonism.

but now, taylor's confronting his own issues surrounding nicky, and explicitly addressing them to nicky.

*wipes a tear*

i'm so proud of him.

Nicky: Wha—I mean, if it's training you want, we can train you, and like, you see your grandpa there— Taylor: [sighs] It's too late. I needed to start when I was three to five years old like true ninja warriors.

there is something so cutting about the way taylor says it's too late. he's talking about training to be a ninja warrior on the surface, yes, but that's not it.

it's too late. it's too late for nicky to witness his upbringing. it's too late for taylor to grow up with a loving father figure. it's too late.

and taylor knows that, and he's saying it, but he's still masking it with it being about training to become a ninja when in reality it's so much more.

this is just one example of the way he downplays the issue. he zeroes in on just one aspect of his life that nicky wasn't a part of, and speaks as if it's the main issue, when really it's only the tip of the iceberg, so to speak.

Nicky: Oh, well, I mean— Taylor: So I'm already trying to play catch-up a little bit, but you know, I guess it's water under the bridge. But you know, if there is time travel magic, then you know, maybe, or if you find it, you could maybe… pick me up on the way back… to the past, and you know maybe we could do childhood all over again.

taylor is playing catch-up with training, but he's also playing catch-up with having a father in his life.

and again, he downplays it, says it's water under the bridge, when it's so very clear how deeply this has been affecting him his entire life.

and to top it all off, he brings up time travel again. and the way he says this is so un-taylorlike it's jarring. the uncertainty of the maybes, the trailing off, the voice so quiet you almost can't hear it...

he thinks there's still a chance to redo it and fix things, but i feel that deep down he knows it's impossible, that it doesn't work like that, and yet he's still grasping at straws to try and make things better.

it's... it's really sad. i feel really sad for him.

and the way he says he wants to redo childhood. as opposed to only talking about training, here he actually says he wants to do childhood all over again, and it's so, so quiet. and taylor is never shy. it's so clear how badly he's hurting over this.

god. okay.

2. "I didn't even know where you were."

Glenn: So we're cool. Nicky: So, we're cool. Glenn: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Nicky: We're just three cool guys. Taylor: Well…

i love how taylor isn't backing down on the fact that nicky fucked him up. like the gates are open and they can't close back up that easily. he's not accepting them just being three cool guys.

Taylor: Well, I'm just saying—you know, I could have, y'know—not to put too fine a point on it, but Dad, I would have appreciated if, you know… I didn't even know where you were. I 23&me-d my ass, and they sent me a picture of fire, and the cops showed up! There was a white van parked outside of our house for three years!

again, i really notice the change in the way taylor speaks, he's more unsure, quieter, and uses more filler words (such as "y'know"), and it feels as if he feels bad about making nicky confront his faults as a father but he's pushing through it anyway, because he has to.

and i absolutely love the throwback to episode ONE with the 23&me test! like this had been brewing from the start! i just think it's fantastic for it all to build up to this. like yeah. taylor didn't know WHO nicky was or WHERE nicky was and trying to figure it out only led to more danger for him.

Nicky: [gets on one knee and puts his hand on Taylor's shoulder] I guess I never got to properly apologize to you, did I?

Taylor: Well, an apology won't really turn back time, and I don't know how I feel—I would rather have the time travel magic.

this is so cutting. like, yeah, an apology won't cut it, and taylor immediately circles back to time travel magic, as if it could fix what's broken when it really, really can't.

i also find the trend of time when it comes to the close boys to be very fascinating. glenn got locked up in time prison, nicky's childhood was split into two timelines, and taylor thinks time travel can fix his broken relationship with his father?

god damn.

Nicky: Well, I didn't even get to explain—I was in Hell. I was worried that these fuckers [pointing at the other kiddads]— Taylor: Yeah, those fuckers. Nicky: —would have chased after me if I'd gotten out of hell. Taylor: So you're telling me that these fuckers kept you away from me all these years? Nicky: Yeah, you know what? It was these motherfuckers! They are the reason I didn't get to spend time with you because they betrayed me! Taylor: That makes sense; I just saw the memory! Yeah, yeah!

thinking about how taylor immediately agrees with nicky in blaming the others for his absence, because, well, yeah, shit's complicated and they are definitely part of the reason, but the fact that taylor is so on board of whole heartedly blaming them after chewing into his dad about not being there is just so sad. like yeah, of course he doesn't want to be upset at nicky. and it hurts so much that he is.

god.

oh my god.

okay, now, i didn't transcribe the entirety of taylor's memory, i actually summarized it and quoted some key aspects of it, so here:

Taylor's first belt ceremony. He's performing, and he finishes, and he bows, and he looks up. His mom is there. He's sniffling a bit and Cass asks him if he's okay and comments on how he moved all the way up to green belt, and he says he knows. He looks over to the kid who was supposed to get green belt but didn't because of him. The kid is whining, and then his dad comes in and gives him a big hug and—

"It's okay son, I saw how hard you worked, and in my eyes, you're a black belt. Come on, let's get ice cream."

The kid says thanks and they hug and then they leave and Taylor watches them leaving through the window and sees the child and father and mother smiling together. Taylor looks down at and then throws away his green belt.

"I think I'm done with karate."

Taylor gets kicked out.

that line that the father said to his child really hit me, because taylor never heard nicky say that to him. ever. and that was all that he wanted, really. like, "i saw how hard you worked," as in, i was there, watching you, practicing with you, supporting you, i saw you, i see you, i'm here, i'm here with you. and "in my eyes, you're a black belt," in my eyes, you've worked so hard, in my eyes, you deserve more than what you got, in my eyes, you're strong, in my eyes, you're capable.

things nicky never saw, and things nicky never told him.

and then, well, taylor quits.

a memory defining taylor's relationship with nicky. a memory where he wasn't there. a memory where he didn't see taylor's growth. a memory where taylor gave up on an ambition. a memory of absence.

anyways.

Nicky: I'm really sorry— Taylor: I'm kind of sensing a pattern here to be honest. Nicky: Yeah, I'm thinking that maybe the things that your granddad did, I do now. I'm thinking maybe I fucked up in the exact same way… Taylor: [lays a hand on Nicky] I think you fucked up in the same way too. Nicky: Okay. Well that's good. That's good for us.

god. oh my god. the fuckign pattern. i'm so sorry this part makes me lose my coherency all i can think of is how sad it makes me idk idk guys im sorry. you get it. taylor saying yeah you fucked up in the same way and nicky learning that and accepting it. oh my fucking god. like. i dont know theres something about the acceptance of it that really gets me. at the start of the conversation nicky denied it, and here he is, after seeing a memory of taylor doing something he wasn't there for, and now he's like yeah, yeah. i did fuck up royally.

3. "...there is no fixing this."

Glenn: What if we started over? What if we tried to kinda give it a little bit of a reset, and try and make some new memories together, as this sort of team of three? What do you think about that? Is it stupid? I dunno.

Nicky: What kinda memories are you talking about?

Glenn: Well I was thinking we all go to Disneyland, the happiest place on earth, and start everything off on the right foot! It's been so long since I've been to Disneyland, and, I dunno, let me show you all the secrets. Let me show you all the hidden Mickeys. I never got to show Taylor how to get over nine-hundred-thousand points on the Buzz Lightyear ride. And you! Nick, I never showed you the secret entrance into Club 33 that only I know about, and it requires you to go through the sewers a little bit.

I mean, what do you say? Maybe we can do something about this whole fucked up Close family. Maybe we could bring it on back a little bit. What do you guys think?

Nicky: Yeah, sure, yeah I mean, I like Disneyland as much as the next guy. What do you think Taylor?

Taylor: What's Disneyland? I don't understand, what's Disneyland?

now listen, i know that taylor not knowing what disneyland is was just because of the whole doodlerized world thing, but i feel like it also really highlights the disconnect here. like, glenn wasn't around much in nick's life but they knew each other and yes glenn went to disneyland without nick a lot and yes nick liked universal better and if i got into their relationship it would take far too long and i don't feel particularly equipped to tackle that which is why i'm focusing on taylor, but i think that taylor asking what disneyland is highlights the disconnect between him and nicky. nicky and glenn are talking about something that taylor is completely lost on, and to me it really shows the disconnect between all of them. first off, nicky likes universal studios better than disney, second of all, taylor doesn't even know what disneyland is. they grew up in different realms, and they grew up around different people, and nicky was never there, which means there's so much taylor knows that nicky doesn't, and so much nicky knows that taylor doesn't and so much of that knowledge and those experiences can never or will never be shared.

Nicky: Oh yeah, good point, I guess it's on a previously Doodlerized world now with a bunch of really fucked up shit in it.

Glenn: I'm just saying that like—give me a chance. Give me a chance to try and make up for all the—well—you know what? No, no, no, no, no, I can't make up for any of that stuff.

it's true. this solution is like putting icing on top of an overdone cupcake. temporarily sweet but it's still bitter and burnt. (i'm sorry if that doesn't make sense, i don't bake.) but like when you burn something you can't just. un-burn it. sure you can put icing and sprinkles and all the fun stuff and maybe you can wash out the taste but that doesn't change the state of what's underneath.

that's their relationship to me.

Anthony: As you're saying this, without even wanting it to, tears are rolling down your cheeks, and in that moment, you, and Taylor, and Nick all realize that there is no fixing this. That this is as good as it's going to get. That you are all stuck with each other in the forms that you are now. You see daddy magic—that same daddy magic that exited Ron and Terry's body, emanate from their bodies like a fine mist, coalesce into the air, and then zip into the jar and fill it up a little bit more because that's what your relationship is.

ah yes, finally, we reach the end.

this is what their relationship is. it's comprised of missing connections and missed experiences and misplaced memories and absences and longing and searching and finding one another only for it to be too late. it is comprised of absence as opposed to love or hate or anything in between. the nothingness that is absence is their relationship

how depressing.

if i'm honest, i think nicky still has a chance. obviously he can't fix anything with taylor, but i really do hope that he tries to be proactive in taking part in taylor's life from here on out, that is, if taylor even survives this next episode, oooh scary.... hahaha anyways.

i hope everyone enjoyed this essay! i started writing it the day the episode came out but schoolwork kinda took over me.

i wanted to get it out before this episode's teen talk so that's why i finished it tonight, but i may reblog with more thoughts, who knows! we'll see! :3c

i do also encourage you guys to check out my art for this episode specifically inspired by that last anthony quote there.

and of course my thoughts are not the objective truth, i am a mere university student, ignoring my school essays to write one for tumblr <3

bye-bye! <3 :3c

#dungeons and daddies #dndads #dndaddies #hell and high father #dndads analysis #analysis #cookies analyses #cookies rambles <3 #taylor swift dndads #glenn close #nicky foster #nick close #nicholas foster #cookies writes and cookies wrongs

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mortuarywriting · 11 days

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Okay. So.

This post, right? I had this vivid bit come to me based on the deli comment + Pic combo. I do not plan on writing more. Free to a good home someone else take this I would NOT have any idea where to go with it oc or insert live your best life

You didn't usually come by this way, and frankly if there hadn't been closures for some infrastructure work you still wouldn't. The extra 10 minutes this unforseen detour was causing meant your entire schedule was thrown off balance. It was only by happenstance that plans got moved an hour back while you were already on the way. Normally you'd be more upset that shit got shifted while you were already on the way but you figured a solid "fuck it" was warranted and you should get yourself something to eat really quick.

You figured a new route would mean new restaurants, and had you decided this anywhere along your usual route or even before your turn down this detour? You'd be so right. You knew there were tons of little places you made notes to go back and try the ever nebulous sometime.

This would be an awesome sometime if it didn't mean trying to turn around and backtrack and the way the construction area had been? That was not appealing.

This road had a surprising lack of food options, and between the idea of gas station snacks or a little corner deli? You were gonna pick the deli first. Why not, good to try new things after all.

Only as soon as you walk in you see the guy behind the counter. Well, more leaning between the counter and the front, he's obviously tied enough to the place that he's talking to the only other customer in there, but someone else is actually making the sandwich while he chats with the guy waiting.

You were ready with a polite smile as you looked at the menu but something about the guy made you do a second glance and-

You knew of that neck tattoo. The long sleeves and pants he wore covering the rest of his skin suddenly felt a lot less sensible for the weather and a lot more like brush hiding something dangerous. That hammer might as well have been a sign saying 'this is not a place of honor', it was a warning and a potential threat all in one and you were not gonna ignore that.

You'd normally just turn on your heel and slide out, quiet and unnoticed, except he had noticed you.

"Welcome," and if that didn't feel like a bold faced lie to you but you keep a pleasant smile even as the fuckoff huge other customer, also very large, also very white and also very covered up- face mask, beanie, sunglasses in hand and hints of tattoos peeking from his sleeves- turns to look at you as well.

You try so hard to keep your polite smile and distinctly not make eye contact as you look over the menu. Your appetite is so far gone you don't know if you're gonna eat for the rest of the day, you weigh the odds between being able to just make your escape versus buying a drink and mentally trying to figure out if you had enough loose change to get a water bottle because you did not want these people to theoretically have your name. Not with that dogwhistle on his fuckin neck you didn't.

But you've never been so glad for your friends serial texting, your phone chiming four times in rapid succession in your pocket.

You fish it out and, well, damn, if that isn't one hell of a meme. You let your brow furrow, "oh son of a-" you look up and offer an apologetic smile, "so sorry, have a good one," and you beat feet and make a hasty retreat.

You dial that friend in question as you make your way out, "hey, yeah, I know you just texted me but I need to be on the phone really quick? Yeah uh," you do a bit of a look around and behind you, making sure your coast is fairly clear before you lower your voice and continue, "might've. Just accidentally walked into a white supremacist place?"

"HOW DO YOU ACCIDENTALLY-"

"It's not like they hung a swastika on the window," your tone creeps back up with exasperation, "the guy- manager or owner I dunno- he had the fuckin- the hammer on his throat! And he was too covered for me to check for iron crosses and with his only other customer being another giant white guy I wasn't playing the odds! Anyway, whatever, I'm almost there just. Hang out with me on the phone. Where the hell did you find that meme?"

--------

Look I'd cut back to where it goes back to the guys bantering here but like. I'm running out of steam and Price doesn't cooperate with my writing at the best of times.

Just know Simon absolutely makes the joke that pretty birds leaving is what happens when you let Roaches around your food. Roach just flips him the bird.

Gaz was absolutely walking down the street and heard some of that phone call. Absolutely finds it hilarious.

Anyway please if you want this take it free to a good home I do not need this freeloader

#rambles from the morgue #Okay we're done here #Sorry this is just getting chucked into the void

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seashelldom · 10 months

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: ̗̀➛ 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄

𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

pairing: tonowari x fem!reader na'vi

word count: 1.9k

shelli's note. SFW angst, fluff, "so i decided to make this for those who needed closure, but overall i decided to stop it at part 2 because of the angst lovers yk.."

masterlist | part 1, part 2, alternate ending

Tonowari's day after your interaction wasn't the best one. He woke up with a headache and a lack of warmth next to him. You.

You were all he's ever known and when you were gone, he knew he'd faced the consequences of his actions. Looking back at what he said and did he felt like the worst person on Pandora. He cursed himself that night. And morning. And after that. And after. After that too.

It was lonely in his marui [Metkayina's type of house]. By himself with his thoughts. And depressing thoughts at that. Now he understood why you were so "clingy". He was gone most days and nights hunting with those poor excuses he called "friends". And you were cast aside in your mother's marui. Alone with your thoughts. Just as he was at the moment.

He knew he'd have to make things right. Even if you wouldn't forgive him. Tonowari wanted you to at least know that he truly felt sorry and that his heart ached for you.

Days flew by as Tonowari still did not get used to the pain. He was a mess. How could he control this village without his precious Tsahik?

"The nets should go on the western part of the island.", said one of the Awa'Atlu officials.

"I agree, it's best for the hunting.", said another.

"What do you think, sir?", they asked Tonowari.

"I think it's fine.", he replied harshly before standing up and making his way to leave the meeting.

Tonowari also heard a few whispers behind his back.

"Where is the Tsahik?" [Female leader, healer, and Eywa's speaker of a clan.]

"This village is a mess without her.."

"Maybe she got fed up with Tonowari's actions."

This earned them a nasty glare by Tonowari. He was already acting coldly to everyone due to the situation. He didn't need to be furious about it. The whispers said a few nervous apologies before Tonowari walked out.

But before he could trek more, a certain na'vi woman caught his eye. You. Oh, Eywa. How his heart ached for your love and touch once more. How much he wished to be in your presence again, you would never know. Or would you?

His admiration slowly rose to anger. He was supposed to be there right now with you. Helping you. Laughing with you.

Tonowari's quiet admiration was suddenly broken by a familiar face. One of his hunting friends.

"Tonowari, what are you looking at-..", their eyes slowly followed Tonowari's to see you. They scoffed and gave Tonowari a smug grin.

"There's no way you want her back?", they added.

Tonowari gave them a glare before saying, "Yes, I do. I realized I don't need kurkungs [assholes] like yourself to tell me what I should do with the love of my life."

He harshly dropped the heavy nets onto their arms. Causing them to stumble back a bit.

"Bring these to the western side of the island.", Tonowari continued before walking away from his "friend".

As Tonowari continued walking he caught eyes with you from a distance. It was like the entire world stopped around you. Leaving the both of you alone. Eywa, you wished you had not but your heart skipped a beat. You wondered if his did too.

You realized what you were doing only a mere two seconds later and quickly broke eye contact. Trying your very best to revert your attention back to helping your mother with her chores. But how could you revert all your attention back to chores when he was standing there all alone. Almost like he was waiting for you. You could feel his eyes on you.

And staring he was. He wanted to pick you up into his arms and tell you how much of a kurkung [asshole] he was and how much he loved you. And he was in fact waiting. He knew you would not come to him, but he hoped with the little hope he had that you would. And when you didn't, he sighed in defeat as he walked away, with his head down.

To win your heart over again would take many eclipses.

But then again, his heart yearned for yours for far too many eclipses as well. What could he lose?

For he had already lost the most precious thing that ever happened to him with a blink of an eye.

"He- He said that?", you asked your Mother. Your eyes widen as your mother explained the situation with her own eyes. Tonowari stood up for you? Apparently, while you were helping your mother with her chores, your mother was accidentally eavesdropping on Tonowari's conversation.

"Yes, Maite [daughter], with that stern voice of his.", your Mother said quite suggestively with a side-smirk and a playful jab to your side.

You chuckled softly. "Saʼnok [mother], what are you suggesting?"

"I'm not suggesting anything, my dear.", she paused as she thought for the right words. "Maybe what drove you two away was the lack of communication."

And with that she got up from her seat and walked out of the marui. You knew exactly what she was doing, chuckling at the thought of your mother hinting you some advice.

Was she right? You would just have to find out.

Tonowari breathed quiet breaths as he stood in his marui, glancing around at the quiet space, that he had created. His eyes fell onto that same seashell. He took it in his hand and sighed a big, long breath of exhaustion.

Some faint footsteps were heard, but he drowned them out.

Silence.

"You still kept it?" His ears perked up at the familiar voice. He turned around to see you, in the flesh. Standing in the marui you both had once shared.

He was dumb-struck. Mainly with the fact that you would even consider talking to him. And also that you came here, with such boldness. He gulped and knew he couldn't mess this up, you never said it but he knew this counted as a second chance.

He would be Pandora's biggest skxawng [moron, idiot] if he screwed up.

Tonowari blinked a few times before completed turning around to face you. "Yes- Yes, I did. I did keep it."

He was nervous. Avoiding eye contact like it was the plague. And you could see goosebumps forming on his neck. That was a little fun fact you picked up on when you were both caught kissing behind his mom's marui one evening years back.

Tonowari breathed a sharp inhale. He didn't know what to say because frankly, he didn't know why you were here. To tell him off? To make things right? Or something.. more?

"Come sit with me.", you said firmly. No stutter. Nothing. You made your way over just outside the marui. Sitting down in front of it, your feet and calves in the water. He complied quickly, sitting down next to you. Following you like a child would to their mother.

The next few seconds were pure silence. Not the kind of silence you would like to avoid. The kind where you could relax and get some pressure off by doing so.

You looked down at the water in front of you, staring at your reflection. In the reflection, you could see your face and a sad Tonowari glancing at you every half-second or so. Wondering if he should speak or be spoken to.

"I'm sorry.", he finally said. His words came out quieter than intended. He cleared his throat and looked at your face again. You said nothing and just let out an audible exhale of weariness.

You felt a hand on your chin causing your teary eyes to look into his.

"Yawntu [beloved], please. Look at me.", he said quietly. You bit your cheek.

"Why would you say those things about me, Tonowari?"

He took his hand off your chin carefully but you still remained gazing into his eyes. "That was foolish of me. Oeru txoa livu, yawntu. [I'm sorry, lover.]" He paused and then continued.

"I spent all my time on my work, and I didn't pay enough attention to you. And how sevin [beautiful] you are. I know that now."

He bit his tongue. Indicating he wants to say something bitter, but something that needs to be said.

"You deserve better than me.", he held his head low as he spoke.

"You don't mean that.", you muttered softly while repositioning to look at him as you sat.

"I do. And if I could take back all of what I said, I would.", his brows furrowed. "No. I will."

"I promise I will, I'll make it up to you."

You stayed silent. Promise, he says. Yet again, you're in the same spot. Just outside your marui, listening to him as he promises you something that you doubt he can give. Can he?

The sun began to set as it touched your azure features and his back.

The sky-people had this funny phrase they used. Second time's the charm?

"Okay.", you said, meeting his eyes.

"Okay?"

"I'll give you this one chance. You gave me your word. Your promise. Do not let me down, Tonowari.", you said with a bit of a pleading face but one that was soft. Your gaze softened as your eyes collided with his.

His face instantly decompressed. The wrinkles on the sides of his eyes pushed up. His lips shined a bright smile. Eywa, you missed it. His smile was something you never thought you needed but when you saw it, your body felt instant joy.

"Irayo." [Thank you], he suddenly pulled you in for a hug. It caught you off guard but you eased into it. Your arms wrapped around his back like a puzzle piece to another. Like it was meant to be.

"Nìprrte’." [Pleasurably; You’re welcome], you said back, your face buried in between his shoulder and neck.

Behind him you saw locals gazing at the exchange, smiling and conversing with one another. Was their cherished Tsahìk back?

The waves crashed gently with one another as the sun was high up in the sky. The perfect start to the perfect day.

The view pans over to a happy Tonowari.

"We should move hunting to the south side of the island. There are more fish there, even if the waves are large it'll be better for the clan.", said one Metkayina hunter.

"No way, our hunters will tire out in those waves before eclipse even hits! We should stick with the east side.", said another. They both looked over to Tonowari, expecting him to find a conclusion to the mess.

Tonowari cleared his throat and spoke up. "We will send our strongest to the south side. Our beginners and our less experienced will stay on the east side." His words sent joyful smiles to all the hunters and leaders. Tonowari's behavior had a big contrast to his behavior in the last meeting. From pissed and snarky to caring and kind. Regardless of this, they weren't complaining.

"Fyole!" [sublime; beyond perfection], said one of the hunters, happy with the arrangement.

Tonowari heard a few whispers behind his back.

"What's gotten him so joyful?"

"My my, Eywa must've heard the clan's prayers."

"The Tsahìk must be back."

But this time, the whispers only made him even more optimistic.

And back you were. His cherished, priceless Tsahìk. Which he had promised the world.

PLEASE READ. If you're a bit confused about why Tonowari is now feeling bad please read this. I know it's a bit of a cliche for the main love interest to so suddenly feel bad without even understanding the M/C's emotions. Tonowari actually did understand. In the time that he was alone, he realized that he thought you were so 'nagging' because he never even spent time with you. Since he only spent a few moments with you at the max, his image of you changed to you asking him to spend more time with him. Which resulted in him thinking you were so 'nagging'. He realized that he was a douchebag for thinking that way and he began to put the pieces together!

shelli's note. So.. I didn't expect His Promise to get that much love. Obviously, when my fics reach 1,000+ likes I get so stoked. It's amazing really, I'm genuinely thankful for the support.

#✎— 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈'𝐬 posts.#avatar #atwow #avatar: twow #avatar: the way of water #avatar fanfiction #avatar 2009 #avatar the way of water #avatar x reader #tonowari #tonowari x reader #tonowari avatar #avatar tonowari #tonowari atwow

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waitmyturtles · 6 months

Text

BLUBBERING SPOILERS BELOW FOR I FEEL YOU LINGER IN THE AIR, EPISODE 12/FINALE:

YEAH. SO. YEAH. SO!

This can't be meta. I don't think I can conjure it. Just blather. I'll try to be sensible. First, a little housekeeping before we start the meeting:

We know there will be a special episode (the preview looks..... LIKE A GODDAMN HOLIDAY GIFT, GAAAAHHH).

Peeps are going back and forth on a second season, and while it seems that Nonkul Chanon blurted it out during the final episode fan meeting (lol you cute, Nonkul), Tee Bundit is rolling back a bit, *likely* due to funding. But seeing social media going absolutely INSANE over this ending, I can't imagine that Dee Hup will have any issue with finding the moolah for a second season -- especially after that after-credits scene, WITH HORSES, WITH MUSTACHES, WITH TATTOOS, WITH ARMOR, the whole thang. Tee let that shit hang all out like that. Warrior-era Thailand, let's m'fing go. That was a hell of a lead into a second season that may not happen, come awn.

Alright, with that out of the way:

I didn't think a show would top Moonlight Chicken for me this year, but IFYLITA is my top new drama of the year (with the HEAVY CAVEAT that I have not seen La Pluie yet -- that's for either after my Old GMMTV Challenge, or just making sure I watch it before year's end).

Part of the reason why I lost my gatdamn mind last week on episode 11 is that Tee Bundit did not interfere with any damn nonsense last week -- he let the episode's story unwind without any noise. He let the emotion roll.

The same light touch (or rather, a lack of interference) happened here, BUT: there was a LOT more happening firstly by way of closing some loops that were open, moving to new loops, and shedding more depth into Jom and Yai's final moments together

We got closure on Yai's dad, who was grumpily like, uhhh, I dunno what happened in my life, but yeah, daughter Eaung Peang, you go have a good life with Maey, crotchety crotch. I think that's the best we could get from politically involved dads of 1928 Chiang Mai. (EP AND MAEY SWINGING THEIR HANDS WHILE WALKING AWAY -- SAAAHHSHAY FROM ALL THAT, LADIES, SASHAY.) It looks like EP's herbal abortion left her safe -- thank goodness. We didn't see James or Ming this episode.

For loops that weren't closed, I'm not complaining, because we got an explanation for how Jom's beloved ones will repeat in his reincarnated futures and pasts, through the explanation of the northern Thai ceremony of having 32 blessings reinstated to you after illness or misfortune (THREE CHEERS for @blmpff for capturing screenshots of this explanation!). (AND THE WHITE THREAD, PEEPS, THE WHITE THREAD, I'm coming back to this in a second.) If we do get a season 2, then I will not be colored surprised if we see Ming and James in different roles. (And, yes. Your bitch here has relaxed on Pat's shooter, finally. My nose was trained on James being a colonialist interferer, but he did good last episode.)

But this episode belonged, of course, to Yai and Jom, their final moments together in 1928 Chiang Mai, saying the slow farewell as Jom slowly disappeared in front of Yai's eyes.

LORD. WHEWWWWWWWWWWWWW. The lacy fabric with which Yai used to cover the mirrors so that Jom wouldn't see himself fade away. The empathy of that. The scene where we heard their lovemaking over the flashbacks montage. WHEW. WHOA. (I did say, to my friend @shortpplfedup, something something Jom started really fading away after that intimate scene and something something had the ontology cough cough outta him, ANYWAY.)

The way that Yai pitched forward when Jom finally disappeared.

AND I MOTHERFUCKING SCREAMED WHEN JOM AND MUSTACHIOED YAI WERE ABOUT TO TOUCH INTO THE WATER AGAIN, AND THEN THE DIVER EMT WAS LIKE, BLOOP I'M HERE AND OH, JOM, YOU'RE ALIVE IN 2023. I yelped in the deli, shit. The way Jom was silently screaming in the water for Yai.

And, so. In the "present" day (present dimension, really), Jom survived that CRAAAAZY car accident (LIKE! WHAT?! He flew out of the car into the water, bros! The magic of fiction, anyway.)

He.......he holds space for Ohm?! Looking BACK on that scene, AFTER we get the explanation of the 32 blessings, we realize: despite Ohm's infidelity and his promise to a new woman, Ohm is still important in Jom's life -- he's still a beloved presence, as he did mean something, for a long time, to Jom. Of course, modern Jom did NOT let a moment to shade Ohm pass him by, oh no. But wasn't that interesting to note? That Jom's dimensions would allow Ohm to be in those dimensions -- that Ohm would be reincarnated through Jom's 32 blessings (at least in the past direction).

You know what I also loved about seeing Jom in his present-day apartment, with the present-day Jeed, Ohm, and Khaimuk (aka Fong Kaew). I LOVED WHAT THAT CASTING, THE SHIFTING OF THE CHARACTERS AND CHARACTERIZATIONS, SAID ABOUT JOM'S PERSPECTIVE OF EQUITY IN 1928 AND 2023.

Jeed is NOT Khun Eaung Peang. Jeed is ALL SASS. But Jeed is YOUNGER than Jom. Jom, in 2023, is P'Jom, with the honorific. Present-day Jom can smack his little sister's head in jest. Jeed can be OUT and SAFE and have a crush on her girl friend, safely, and can ask for her brother's support, OPENLY.

Jom never stopped being Jom, whether it was 2023 pre-accident, 1928, or 2023 post-accident. Jom is comfortable in his own skin, and wants happiness AND EQUITY for the people he loves around him. I love that the casting and characterizations of the incarnations of the characters reflect Jom's state of mind that all people are equal and the same, no matter a fancy honorific or a royally appointed residence.

I screamed at @shortpplfedup when I saw Jom wearing the white thread in bed during the thunderstorm. I stopped, rewound, and saw he was wearing the white thread in the water scene with Warrior Yai. The white thread never left his wrist -- he still has his blessings intact.

And, and, and, back to the house of Palanthip in 2023. Who's the lady of the house? This lady knows Jom's the only one who can open that chest. The chest opens, the drawings are there, THE PICTURE OF THEIR PARTY, AND THE LETTER FROM YAI TO JOM, THE LETTER, THE TEARS, AKSLKDF, AND, AND, AND --

Oh my god, I was crying, y'all. Shit. Just our confident dude, striding in, asking Jom, sweetheart, why are you crying. And Jom jumping into Yai's arms.

I was shaking my head. I mean. I love that we learned that Yai actually HAD HIS OWN BLESSINGS CEREMONY because he was so lost after Jom's departure. WE LEARNED ABOUT THE REST OF YAI'S LIFE. We know, now, that the Yai of 1928 yearned for Jom for the rest of his life. So much so that, at the twilight of the life of 20th-century Yai, that he had the good mind to leave Jom a letter, to let Jom know that his life was a good life, because Jom had been in it. To let Jom know that Yai's love had never faded away.

AND THEN THAT YAI CAME BACK TO JOM.

Jom, dude, you're a good dude, for these good people to be coming back to you, in dimension after dimension. That monk was right.

I told you this was just blathering; I can try to put some sensible thoughts together in a few days, but the structure of this story, the empathy of this story, the way this story was leveraged by drama and romance and HOPE. I mean. This series was utterly fantastic.

I know there's the lifelong debate of whether or not BLs "count" as queer media, and in many, many instances, they do. But since I've had the disappointment of Only Friends and GMMTV on my mind lately, I had to note, mentally, particularly during the lovemaking scene, and during the closure of this episode, that Tee really fucking handed it to anyone who criticizes BL as a not-as-sophisticated drama genre.

And you know what? I also wanna say that Tee fucking handed it to GMMTV as well. I am so DAMN glad this series was airing when Only Friends was airing. While Only Friends sat on the opportunity to present progressive ideas on queer love and queer community, IFYLITA ROLLED right into it.

(I'll ask @lurkingshan to fact-check me on the following:) Because this series was a historical drama with a queer romance centering it, I think Tee Bundit could feel free from the chains of BL tropes and expectations to do something truly singular. I felt that what I was watching was cinematic, it was moving, it was strikingly emotional, particularly because I felt that this show was showing me something that transcended any viewer's expectations of what we should be watching, as opposed to, say, a BL set in an office like Tee's Step By Step. Where that show fumbled was in the show itself not knowing if it was a workplace drama or a BL-centric romance.

IFYLITA knew what it was: a historical drama, certainly centering romance, but also balancing conversations about equity and wealth disparities across eras. With that uncomplicated centering, I think Tee Bundit made an absolutely BRILLIANT show, and it fucking WORKED.

I will scream to anyone who'll hear me. If you haven't watched I Feel You Linger In The Air yet, do it, PLEASE PLEASE. Y'all know I am an Aof Noppharnach girlie for life, and I LIVE FOR MOONLIGHT CHICKEN, I DO, I DO, all of my Asian references in MLC and the food and everything, god I loved that show, but --

IFYLITA was a cinematic masterpiece. Full stop. All hail @neuroticbookworm and @lurkingshan for telling me to keep with it after my Step By Step-PTSD. This show was worth every last minute I spent watching and writing on it.

Season 2, Warrior Yai, let's get him a better mustache -- let's FUCKING GO, BABIES.

P.S. BRIGHT AND NONKUL FOR LIFE, FOR LIFE!!!!!!! THE ACTING!!!!!! MY GOD!!!!!

#i feel you linger in the air #ifylita #best show of the year #tee bundit #bright rapheephong #nonkul chanon #i feel you linger in the air meta #ifylita meta

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axcel-lucci · 1 year

Text

I miss you... A lot

Trafalgar law x Fem!reader

(it's kinda short sorry)

'mugiwara-ya... That idiot' law thought as he groaned at himself and started to walk to his own room that he shared with his girlfriend

These past couple weeks after the defeat of kaido, Luffy has been annoying him NON-STOP to go and party with them, and at this point the crew kind of annoyed him to agree as well.

He needs another opinion, one that's more... Calm, one that has so much more common sense in them. (Y/n)'s opinion.

Granted they haven't seen each other much in a month, or even more, due to this... Trip. So he was also excited to see her after all these.

He hoped (y/n) was in the room so that he didn't have to search around the sub and bump into crewmates, but imagine his disappointment when he found everything neat and no (y/n) in sight. Only an open wardrobe.

He closed the door behind him and locked it before walking over to the wardrobe to close the door of it, only to then notice one of his hoodies are missing, it made him smile softly realising (y/n) must've been feeling a little rebellious and stole one of them.

After closing it, he then noticed the bathroom that was connected to his room slightly ajar.

He knew peeking was bad, but he's a pirate, and also, he's a little bit of a pervert inside.

So he peeked a little without opening the door at all.

He just saw (y/n) wearing his hoodie and was in front of the mirror, thankfully her back was faced to him and she didn't seem to notice him on the wide ass mirror.

It seems like she had been standing there for a while... She wore nothing but his hoodie that stopped right by her thighs, which he loved, her curves may not have been visible, but he can clearly see them.

She soon started off by running her hands on the sleeves and inhaling the scent by the wrist, sighing, she then hugged herself, mostly the hoodie and grumbled, "I miss him... I miss him so... Much."

His breath hitched, it wasn't one of those cases that she could've stolen his hoodie just to tease him or she liked it, more or less it reminds her of him because she misses him.

"I miss you so much..." She muttered to herself and closed her eyes when she felt tears pricking the corners of her eyes as she shook her head, "it's gonna be alright... He'll come around, eventually... It's just an important thing for him at the moment... I must support him and not weight him down..."

Law felt his heart tighten and pain struck all over him, of course she fucking misses him. It's been a little over a MONTH that they haven't interacted with each other.

He had been so focused on his plan, he failed to remember the love of his life being a person too.

"No. I shouldn't be needy... He needs this closure for himself..." She scoffed, "and this is wrong... I shouldn't wear this without his permission." She sighed and took off his hoodie and revealed her wearing a tight tank top of hers, "shit... It's cold."

Swallowing thickly, he just continued to watch, eager to know what else he was lacking.

She stared down at the hoodie and inhaled the scent of him left on it despite it being clean and washed. His cologne and body fragrance were hard to come off.

"I miss you... A lot... Please come around sooner..." Her voice cracked as her arms instinctively wrapped themselves around the hoodie as if she was hugging him.

Law couldn't take it anymore and opened the bathroom door but just stood there, he couldn't even damn himself to speak without feeling more than guilty.

By now, tears have escaped her eyes once she opened them again she hadn't even realized she had closed her eyes in the process.

(Y/n) MISSED everything of him. His scent, his body, his warmth, even his voice and words. She missed ALL OF HIM.

Her eyes drifted to the mirror to see how stupid she looked and made eye contact with law for a moment before turning back to herself, she didn't even realize it was him, but once it hit her, her eyes went wide and wiped her tears away before turning to him, panicking on what to say about this weird scene.

"L-law! I... It's not what it looks like!" She stammered with a nervous smile on her face a small blush, "i-... It was on the floor I was just picking it up and was about to put in the laundry when I wanted to-"

"You don't need to tell me..." He cuts her off with a small sigh.

"W-what...?" She shivered hoping to whoever gods and goddesses that he won't get mad or scold her for stealing his hoodie.

"Why... Didn't you tell me?"

"Tell... Tell you what?" At this point she was kind of overwhelmed by it all...

"Why didn't you tell me you missed me...? You could always just walk up to me and told me you missed me. Then I would've..." He muttered, "I don't know... Gave you a kiss or something"

"You know I hate coming off as a needy girlfriend... And besides... You were... Busy." She looked away, all ashamed and embarrassed at what he just caught her doing.

For all she knew, he caught her hugging a darned hoodie and telling it how much she missed him.

"No amount of work could ever sum up to you. You're also important to me, and I know... You aren't exactly needy..." He shook his head, "I just wished you came to me instead of keeping all these to yourself"

"I mean... I don't want to weigh you down with my... Stuff... So I just waited patiently... I don't even wish to be a burden to you... I miss you a lot... And I know stealing your hoodies aren't exactly... I'm not exactly proud at myself for doing that."

"What do you mean?"

"I... Wore them without your permission... They're your stuff, here..." She walked up to him and hands him his hoodie, "... You can have it back."

He just stared at the hoodie then at (y/n) who looked away all ashamed and embarrassed about this whole thing.

His eyes were shadowed by his hat so it was hard to read him. But, she grabbed her wrist and pulled her into a tight hug.

"Next time, come to me..." He whispered in her ear, she was just shocked that instead of him getting mad, he just... Hugged her. "You will never ever be a burden to me... Ever."

(Y/n) felt as if all her pent up tears were crushing down hard and felt herself cry against him while hugging him right

"I'm so sorry... I didn't mean to make you feel like a burden... I don't want you to feel as such, I really am so orry for making you feel that way... Please, let me make it up to you if you want..." He muttered as she sniffed and sobbed a bit, "... Do you want to go on a walk around town? I'll keep you close, I promise I'll never leave your side."

She stayed quiet which made him feel insecure if he's saying all the right stuff and doing all the right things.

"Hey... Speak up..." He muttered but refused to pull away, but she just nodded softly making him feel at ease, "that's good... Come on, let's get ready."

Later...

"Torao!" Luffy yelled as law and (y/n) walked by their area.

"Hmm? Oh hello Luffy" (y/n) smiled as law grumbled a small: "get away from me"

Robin seemed to notice how law and (y/n) are holding hands, he doesn't do it quite often but it kind of cignals robin that it was their alone time together. "Captain..." She called as Luffy hummed, "why don't we leave Torao-kun alone for today, it seems he's having a small walk with (y/n)"

"Eh? Oh!" Luffy grinned, "well... See you later at the party then!" With that, Luffy ran off to find Sanji.

"Party?" (Y/n) asked law as they continued walking

"Ugh... I was about to ask for your opinion earlier, should we go?" He asked as she hummed and leaned her head on his shoulders as they walked through tons of greenery

"Us two? If you want, but as a crew? Let them have some fun. We can have our own fun at our room...! I bought this new book about Sora, I was wondering if you'd like to read it with me." She asked

Law kind of expected sex but... "That's good, you bought a new Sora book? What's the chapter?"

"Chapter...? I think it was... 'new story new year'?" She asked more to herself about her memory.

"Ahh... A new release I can't wait to read it with you, baby" he smiled and kissed her on the cheek

She giggled a little "you don't do this quite a lot"

"Oh... I only do that if it's you, I really love you. And I'm sorry that I made you feel alone and lonely... I'm really sorry about that"

"It's okay, totally... Atleast now you're making up for it, right?"

#trafalgar law #law x reader #random #trafalgar law x reader #night thoughts #law x y/n #one piece #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar d law #trafalgardwaterlaw #law x you

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surftrips · 1 year

Text

butterflies — part three.

pairing: rafe cameron x female reader

summary: after returning home from college for the summer, y/n runs into rafe cameron and the two form an unlikely relationship.

word count: 2043

a/n: little bit of a longer chapter, but i am having so much fun with this series! let me know what u think in the comments or my ask box :) masterlist.

You couldn’t believe what you were looking at on your phone screen.

Incoming call… Dylan.

Was your ex seriously calling you now, two months after the breakup? Weeks after you had begun spending nearly every single day with Rafe Cameron?

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Rafe asked, sensing the anxiety coming from your body.

You two were sitting in his car on a particularly hot day trying to cool down when the sound of your ringtone interrupted the comfortable silence.

“It- it’s Dylan,” you responded, voice shaking.

“Dylan? Like Dylan, Dylan? Dylan, your ex?”

“Yeah, yeah. Like my ex, Dylan. What do I do?”

“Don’t pick up. Nothing he says can be good.”

Even though you were the one to break up with him, you admittedly had moments where you found yourself close to pressing on his contact in your phone and apologizing. Part of you wanted to make amends, the other part of you was screaming to move on.

Rafe agreed with this other part of you. After you had told him specific details from your relationship and how he treated you, he wanted you far away from him.

You two continued to sit in silence as you stared at your phone and waited for it to go to voicemail.

“Do you think he’s leaving a message?” you asked.

“Who cares? Come on, let’s go get dinner somewhere.”

You hesitatingly agreed, but as you pulled into the drive-thru of a local burger joint, you couldn’t help but feel disappointed at the lack of a notification alerting you that Dylan had left you a voicemail.

I care, you thought. I care if he still cares about me. I loved him.

—

Rafe dropped you off at your house a little after 11 pm. You waved him off and started to head inside.

You walked upstairs to your bedroom, ready to take a shower and settle in for the night.

However, as you were about to turn on the water, the familiar sound of your ringtone broke the silence for the second time that day.

You looked down at your screen, heartbeat picking up at the words.

Incoming call… Dylan.

What do you do? Rafe had made it very clear he didn’t like the guy. But this guy was the same person you had spent the last year and a half with. Maybe he deserved some closure after you had left him so abruptly?

Suddenly, all of the bad things he had done to you were irrelevant. You couldn’t seem to remember why you were unhappy with him in the first place.

So, you told yourself it must have been muscle memory that you hit the accept button and pressed your phone to your ear, eager to hear a familiar voice.

“Y/N?” he said.

“Dylan?”

“I didn’t think you would pick up.”

“I didn’t think I would either. What’s going on?”

“I just… uhm.” You heard him cough on the other side. “I just wanted to see how you were doing, that's all.”

“Oh.” Rafe would kill me if he knew I was talking to you right now. “I’m alright, how’s your summer going?”

“Good, good. Pretty boring, actually.”

You sighed. He was never a good communicator. Rafe was always straight to the point. You liked that about him.

“Dylan, what do you want?”

“What, I can’t call my ex and ask her how she’s doing without having an ulterior motive?”

You could tell he said that as an attempt to lighten the mood, but you were in no such state to joke around with him.

“No, not really, considering we didn’t end on the best terms.”

He was silent for a moment.

“Okay, fine. I was thinking we should get back together— and before you interrupt me and say no, hear me out.”

“Dylan, are you serious right now?”

“I said, hear me out! You said you broke up with me because I was too attached to you, right? I was too codependent or something?”

When you didn’t respond right away, he continued.

“Well, I think I can be better now. Now that I’m back at home, I’m a different person. I think school was just making me stressed and I feel like I wasn’t in the right state of mind to be in a relationship.”

“What happens when we go back to school then? You’ll go back to your old ways?”

“No, Y/N. I know better now. Look, I’ve realized what I lost, okay? I’m not stupid, I know how lucky I was to have you. I know that I wasn’t the perfect boyfriend, but please, give me another chance. I promise I will be better.”

Again, you were silent.

“Y/N?” he said after a while. “You still there?”

“Yeah, yeah. I just… don’t know what to say. I mean, I broke up with you, why would you want to get back together? I thought you would hate me or something.”

“I could never hate you, love. You know that.”

Shit. That name always worked on you.

“Can you just give me some time to think about it?”

“Yes, yes of course,” he said, relief evident in his tone. “I love you, Y/N. You don’t have to say it back or anything, but I do. I always have.”

After you hung up, you allowed your body to crash onto your bed.

Oh my god, what am I doing? Am I seriously considering getting back together with my shitty ex-boyfriend? He can’t be serious about trying again?

On the other hand, you didn’t feel like there were many options for you. Clearly, your fling with Rafe was not going to end up in a committed relationship before the end of the summer. And back at school, well, you felt very insecure.

Dylan was your only chance at any sort of social life at Duke. Without him, you would probably be in your dorm room every night watching shitty romcoms and eating takeout. Being with Dylan made you feel special, he made you feel seen.

You remember how hard it was to make friends when you started college. How you found yourself struggling to keep up with frat parties and sorority recruitments, always feeling one step behind everyone else.

What would life be like when you got back to school in the fall? You were ashamed to realize that many of your friends were Dylan’s first, and none of them had hesitated to take his side in the breakup.

And he did say that he loved you. No one outside of your family had ever said that to you, let alone show you any form of affection. All throughout high school you watched as all of your friends began dating people, wondering where you went wrong. Were you not deserving of love as well?

Dylan was the first person to make you feel loved and supported.

Oh god, I fucked up, didn’t I? I ruined the one real thing I’ve ever known.

—

Hey, wanna hang out today?

You were typing a response to Rafe’s text when you heard the doorbell ring.

“Surprise!”

“Rafe? What are you doing? My birthday already passed!”

“Y/N, I know when your birthday is. Today is another special day, and I’m surprised you don’t know it.”

You racked your brain for all the possibilities: birthdays, anniversaries, holidays…

“Oh god, it isn’t your birthday, is it?”

“No, it is not. But that makes me sad you don’t know my birthday.”

“Rafe, please just tell me what day it is.”

“Why, Y/N, it is July 17th. It has been exactly three months since you broke up with that pathetic excuse of a man.”

“Oh, oh wow.”

“I know, right? Time moves fast when you’re single and thriving! Look, I even got you a little cake.”

He presented you with a mini cake decorated with yellow flowers that read Congratulations! in blue icing.

“I couldn’t find one that said ‘Congratulations on being single!’ at the grocery store so I settled on this one. They really need to start expanding their selection,” he said.

“Rafe, I don’t even know what to say.”

If not for last night, you would have been swooning over this gesture. It was quite literally one of the sweetest things anyone has ever done for you.

However, last night did happen and you felt awful. Here was wonderful and caring Rafe Cameron at your doorstep presenting you with a cake for breaking up with your shitty ex, and now you had to tell him you had decided to get back together with said shitty ex.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?”

Rafe was always so good at sensing when you’re off. You hated that about him. Dylan could never read your feelings, and maybe it was because you didn’t want him to.

“I’m sorry, is this too much? Am I overstepping? I thought it would be a fun little thing to do, but—” Rafe was beginning another one of his apology spirals and you weren’t going to let him continue.

“No, please. This is amazing of you and I genuinely appreciate it so much. I appreciate you, so much. I’m so grateful for our friendship…”

“But?” Again, he could tell that something was wrong.

“But, I’ve decided that I’m going to get back together with Dylan.”

Now, he was speechless.

You continued, “He called again last night. We talked, and he said that he’s going to try and be a better boyfriend. He’s had some time to reflect this summer, and he really loves me, and I don’t know I…”

Now it was Rafe’s turn to interrupt you.

“You really believe that?”

“What?”

“You really believe that he’s going to be better? That he’s going to be any different from how he was to you last year?”

Rafe Cameron, always straight to the point.

The thing about being straight to the point is that it sometimes feels like a shot to the heart.

“I’m not naive. Or stupid,” you said, anger growing in your voice. “Yes, I really do believe him. Because I know him, and I know he loves me and I’m sorry if that’s so hard for you to believe, that I can be loved, but it’s true!”

“Y/N- that is not what I was implying at all.”

“Then what were you implying?”

“I just mean,” he sighed. “I know guys like Dylan. They don’t change, ever. They talk a lot of shit but their actions stay the same. You deserve someone so much better.”

You scoffed, “Don’t you see? There is no one better! No one else is going to want me or love me the way he does! Before him, no one ever looked at me! I was invisible!”

Rafe’s face was beginning to break. His facade was cracking.

“You call how he treated you love? Y/N, he wouldn’t let you go anywhere without him! He pushed you away from all your friends and family, and now, now he’s manipulating you into getting back together with him!”

Tears were beginning to stream down your face now, but you didn’t care. You never wanted to see Rafe again. He made you feel like a little girl again, someone who couldn’t make her own decisions or take care of herself. He had diminished your feelings and cast them aside, for what? Because he didn’t like Dylan?

Well, he didn’t know Dylan like you did.

“Can you please just leave?” you finally asked.

Rafe Cameron always knew when to stop pushing. “Y/N, I just want you to take some time to think about this. Text or call me tonight, okay?”

You nodded silently, having already made up your mind.

—

Surely, they are just friends. Rafe would never do anything to jeopardize his relationship with Y/N. She has come to mean the world to him, and losing her would be like trying to breathe without air.

As he walked off from her house that morning, frustrated at himself and at the world, he thought I care, I care about you so much, I might even care about you more than you care about me.

Then, I wish I could tell you.

—

TAGLIST: @holy-macncheese-balls @everythingmarveltopgun @maybankslover (let me know if you want to be added!)

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #obx #outer banks #obx x reader #obx imagine #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron x you #butterflies fic

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