#I think that was right before their petty rivalry started | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nariism · 2 months

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to the ends of our world — i. rin

academic rivals to lovers + "i could kiss you right now!" + "we fell asleep by accident and woke up as a mess of tangled limbs."

synopsis. all rin said was that he would help you with calculus. he didn't think he'd be waking up to your morning breath and wishing the moment would last forever.

wc. 1.6k

notes. kind of a highschool au where rin is out for the season because of an injury 🙏 also kind of a one-sided rivalry because rin is a loser :p

— for @itoshiexx <3 | event masterlist ✉️

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

I could kiss you right now.

Those were the last words you spoke to Rin almost an hour ago.

He's agonizing over it, really. He probably should have at least said something back to you instead of shutting you out like he does every time he feels himself getting too close.

Instead he's dutifully working through his calculus notebook.

If he focuses enough on perfecting derivatives, he can ignore the way your presence beside him has only gotten weightier. But it's hard to do that when the words are still echoing in his mind.

I could kiss you right now.

You're just as adamant on finishing your workbook, eyes glued to the page and attention completely devoted to making numbers dance.

When you asked him earlier in the day if he could help you with the new sets, he was confused. You'd always been the one to best him.

It irritated him. You reminded him too much of his big brother.

But then he saw your notebook. You'd hesitantly handed it over to him when you showed up at his doorstep with courtesy snacks and a bag of oranges for his mother.

(Which she gushed about, by the way. He felt like burying himself in a hole when she asked if you were dating.)

You'd been trying for so long to figure out the solutions that some areas of the page were torn where you had kept erasing and redoing the work. He even found things scribbled out in frustration.

He would have laughed if you didn't have such a grim look on your face. Rin was never one for humour, anyways.

He reluctantly agreed to help, though he was sure your other grades would make up for one botched math unit. It was the petty pride in him speaking—in reality, the way you looked like you were on the verge of tears was enough to send him into fight or flight mode.

He had never seen such a dazed, stressed expression on you before. You were the epitome of a model student—good grades, class representative, and friendly enough that no one ever wanted to step on your toes.

No one but Rin, that is.

He told himself he hated you. Goody-two shoes. Smiley. Obliviously and annoyingly cheerful. Successful enough to do anything you wanted to do, so long as you had the drive.

Everything Rin would have been if he hadn't injured his knee right before the football season started.

But what he thought he felt about you was a lie. He hadn't even realized it until you were sitting down on his bed, knee bumping into him as you lounged there criss-crossed.

He'd always just seen you as the person who sat in front of him in homeroom. Untouchable. He envied you, even though his grades were nearly as good now that he had all the time in the world to study.

Now, though, you're just as human as he is.

Rin can see your face instead of the back of your head. Your words are meant for him—thanking him, praising how easy his method for solving these equations is.

Then, you shattered his daydream.

I could kiss you right now.

You said it so unseriously, not even looking at him when you did. You had gotten to the end of your third page of work, conquering the math with ease now that you understood it.

It was your funny way of expressing gratitude. He knows you didn't mean anything by it, definitely. But it's been stuck in his mind.

And neither of you have uttered a word to each other since.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when you slam your pencil down in your notebook and shut it with an audible thud.

"Break time!" You sigh blissfully, though he isn't sure if you're talking to him or yourself.

You flop back into his mattress and he just stares in quiet disbelief while you scroll through your phone like you fucking pay rent here.

Rin debates whether or not to kick you off his bed so that he can finish his homework without distraction, or if he should just leave you be. Ultimately, he decides that it's too much of a hassle to deal with confrontation and silently goes back to doing derivatives.

He would feel bad shoving you away when you finally started talking to him, after all. And you look so at ease now, with your work almost done.

(Yeah, you started working at a faster pace than him with his method. You seriously piss him off.)

He comes to the conclusion that this is going to be a one-time thing. Rin hates the twist of despair in his stomach seeing you about to burst into tears.

He hates the peace that fills him when you're back to your smiling self even more.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Rin wakes up to warmth.

Groggily, he blinks the sleep out of his eyes until they adjust to the light of sunrise pouring into his room.

It's strange. He doesn't remember falling asleep at all.

What was he doing last night? He shifts a little bit and freezes when he hears the crinkle of paper beneath him.

Oh, his calculus homework. Did he finish it? It's due today.

He's just about to sit himself up to check the time and hope he has at least another hour to sleep before school, when he realizes much too late that there's a weight on his arm.

Rin gets yanked back by the arm that's pinned down, yelping quietly in surprise.

And then everything hits him like a goddamn truck.

Maybe more like a freight train, really, because he feels like he's about to have a fucking heart attack. Rin dares to turn his head, so comically slow that it's like life itself moves in slow motion.

Somehow in your sleep, you've become a tangled mess of limbs.

His arm is tucked under your neck—the culprit for making him whelp like a child when he tried to sit up. Your legs are twisted together and... Oh god. His free hand is resting where your hip melts into your thigh.

Panic rises in his chest because one, he's never had another person in his bed before. Period. And two, because there's heat boiling in the pit of his stomach and he's pretty sure he's about to keel over and pass away.

Just as he's about to shove you off the bed, realization dawns on him.

You look so peaceful when you sleep.

Your breath smells, and your hair has gotten tangled under the weight of his arm. You're muttering to yourself quietly in your sleep, and he's pretty sure he can see a bit of drool in the corner of your lip.

He so desperately wishes that his first thought would be to tease you about this until the end of time. Or maybe use it as blackmail against you, if you were to get a higher grade on the upcoming calculus exam because of his methods.

But instead, his first thought is that he never wants to move from this position. That he needs to savour this moment.

It's horrifying.

18 hours ago, you pranced up to the side of Rin's desk and asked if he could help you with the problem set.

All he said was that he would help you with calculus.

He didn't expect you to show up at his door right after dinner. And he didn't expect you to seat yourself on his bed before he could offer you the chair at his desk.

He certainly didn't think he'd be waking up to your morning breath and wishing the moment would last forever.

You've just been a bag full of mysteries. Rin hates mysteries. It's part of the reason why math works for him—no surprises, no ambiguity. There's always an answer.

Rin can't formulate an answer on why his heart feels like it's about to burst out of his ribcage.

You shuffle in his arms and suddenly the pounding in his chest ceases.

Is this what death feels like?

"Rin?" You murmur sleepily, shifting into his warmth as if this is something regular classmates should be doing. "What time is it?"

"I can't see the clock," he deadpans, though it's just a facade to hide how utterly enamoured he is right now. "It's behind you."

You groan, rolling over to check the time. He breathes a sigh of relief as you pull away but it gets stuck in his throat when you collapse back into him, your back against his chest.

"6:07," you tell him nonchalantly. And then you cozy yourself up in the blankets again, nice and warm, and go back to sleep.

"Hey," he shakes you lightly. "Don't just go back to bed, moron."

"We can talk about the homework later," you mumble as if that's what he fucking meant.

A million words run through his mind, parading to the tip of his tongue where they all fall off and die. He can't find them when you're slotting yourself closer and closer in your sleep, squeezing his arm against your cheek.

Eventually, he decides that it's not worth the hassle of getting up and having you see his flustered face right now. You'd never let him live it down.

So he closes his eyes and pretends that you're not just the person who sits in front of him in homeroom. Goody-two shoes. Smiley. Obliviously and annoyingly cheerful.

"I could..."

He swallows loudly, the words like molasses in his throat.

I could kiss you right now.

You're dead to the world, but he doesn't dare speak the thought into existence, anyway.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

("Rin! 95%!"

You shove your paper into his face and he opens his mouth to snark back about it.

But then you leap forward and press a kiss to his cheek. Everything in his head instantly melts into mush.

"You're the best," you gush.

He just glowers at you with burning red cheeks.)

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redr0sewrites · 7 months

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Bestie, heard your cry for requests, no worries. Adam and Lute brainrot is real 😭. Perhaps something with Adam and Lute having this sort of crush on the gn!Reader who’s probably a member of the exorcist army. Like they both develop feeling for the person separately but once they find out, it goes into the direction of polycule? Love your writing and hope this helps!

THIS REQUEST>>>> EVERYTHING ELSE

🥀Cw: poly!guitarspear x reader, fluff

both adam and lute having a crush on you is definitely an accomplishment, and its both the best and most infuriating thing to ever happen to you

if you're in the exorcist army then you're def interacting with them alot, but no matter where you are in heaven there's always at least one of them at your side

adam would fall first, and he'd start shamelessly flirting with you

whenever you were training he would come over and bother you, he'd use the cringiest pickup lines and call you every pet name under the sun

adam lays it on THICK, he really wants you to like him

lute just couldn't understand why it bothered her so much- i mean, adam had flirted with a lot of people before, right? why did she care if it was you?

her feelings hit her like a truck

the two of you were just relaxing together, and she couldn't help but realize how truly beautiful you were

after seeing what adam sees in you, she lowkey started to get jealous

adam caught on pretty quickly that she liked you, and it soon turned into a competition of sorts

adam and lute are close friends, but when it comes to you, they definitely have a petty "rivalry" going down

adam will purposefully send lute away so he can flirt chat with you, and in turn lute will rat on him to sera about how he's not getting his work done

meanwhile you're just sitting there having a bi-panic over the two of them

eventually you sit them down and have a convo about how you like both of them, which eventually leads to them agreeing to share you

however i genuinely think that they both have feelings for eachother too, and those would probably come to light once the three of you are in a relationship

once you three are officially together, they both dote on you SO much

adam is definitely more outgoing, and his love languages are quality time and physical touch. in contrast, lute's a bit more private, and her love language is definitely acts of service through and through

this leads to interesting dates for the three of you, some nights you're all crashing at one of your apartments and bingeing shitty movies, other nights your going out to clubs and dancing your hearts out

adam is so cuddly, and while she pretends that she isn't, so is lute

yall def have full on cuddling sessions where you all just lay together (usually on top of adam)

yall have the cutest mornings together!!!!! lute is def an early riser, and she methodically gets up at the same time every morning

meanwhile adam is pretty much a wildcard, sometimes he'll stay up ridiculously late and end up sleeping in until noon, and then other nights he'll crash super early and then wake up pretty early too. then sometimes he'll just pull all nighters and you and lute will come downstairs to find him curled up on the couch

lute works out in the mornings and will probably go on a quick morning run before coming back inside and getting ready. she often will help you get ready and will lay out things you need for the day. adam is usually the last person ready, he's always begging for one more minute of sleep!

yall r literally just so domestic

yall split chores too, lute usually does the cooking, adam does the laundry and clears dishes/plates, and then you do whatever other chores that are necessary. you all rotate when it comes to cleaning tasks such as sweeping, mopping, dusting, etc and while adam will sometimes pout, he actually does clean up after himself

adam and lute are both protective in different ways, and everyone in heaven knows not to mess with you

adam is more of the jealous type, and will get protective if he thinks someone else is flirting with you

meanwhile lute is more of the "worried about your safety" type, and will get more protective if she thinks you're in danger

overall, yall are genuinely such a power couple and you really have a sweet, adorable dynamic

I WILL MAKE A PT 2 WITH NSFW HCS. ALSO PT 2 OF THE ADAM FIC IS COMING SOON I SWEAR IM SORRY FOR KEEPING YALL WAITING😭

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sweetiepoison · 5 months

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Famous Baby blurb

(The Leafs Game)

A/n: I’m actually really struggling writing the next part so a throwback! Italics indicate a flashback

“Try going up one note” You suggest standing across from Justin at the piano.

Your friend asked you to come over to help out with some new music he was working on. You also were trying to write an album of your own and figured the afternoon spent working would help you as well. Justin sang the previous verse over again but higher like you suggested.

“Yeah I like that.” He commented going straight into the next verse. You hummed along joining in on certain verses creating a harmony.

“How would you feel about this song being the first I release off the new album?” Your jaw dropped at Justin’s question.

“For real?” You gasped. Justin’s return to music had been long anticipated by both fans and the media alike. And for him to want the song you collaborated on to be his intro back into the music industry was appreciated.

“Of course!” Justin exclaimed scooting back from the piano. “(y/n), you are one of the biggest names in the industry right now if not the biggest” he said putting an emphasis on the word the.

You were like a little sister to Justin, originally signing onto the same label when you were 16 and starting your career. Justin knew what it was like to be so young and in the spotlight so he looked out for you. Despite you switching labels and Justin taking a step back from music, you remained close. There was no one else he trusted more to debut his new album with.

“You’re still Justin Bieber.” You reminded him. “You don’t need my name attached for this to be successful.”

You continued practicing until the afternoon slowly turned into the evening and Hailey came downstairs with a leafs jersey on and an extra in her hands.

“Cult meeting tonight?” You asked as she handed the jersey to Justin.

“Yeah, do you want to come?” She offered.

You laughed at the thought, “Hell no.”

“C’mon, (y/n) please.”

“Come support our friend with us.” They both wore the same pouty expression.

“Auston is not my friend.”

“But we are,” Justin cut in before you could go on a rant. “And would you rather hang out with your friends or stay in by yourself tonight?”

“I’m fine with staying in.”

“C’mon everyone’s going, and it’ll be a fun night and we can go out after-“

“Fine.” You give in. “But I’m not wearing a jersey.”

—

It wasn’t enough for you to just not wear a maple leafs jersey. You knew one thing would piss off Auston even more. So once you all settled into your seats you grabbed your best friends hand and dragged her down to the gift shop.

“You don’t even like hockey.” She reminded you as you searched through the jerseys. “Why waste money on something you’re never gonna wear again?”

“Because, Auston will hate it.”

“And why do you care what he thinks?”

“I don’t.” You immediately snapped. “But I definitely don’t want him to think I came willingly. Plus we’re from here so why not support the hometown team.” You shrugged continuing your search.

Once you finally settled on a jersey you liked you didn’t wait for a bag and instead immediately pulled it on over your shirt. The jersey may have been petty, but you knew it would get the job done and that’s what mattered.

Justin groaned and rolled his eyes once he saw you return to your seat, “I’m not even gonna say anything.”

“Good choice.” You said sitting down next to Shawn with a satisfied smirk, actually looking forward to the start of the game.

“The arena is packed tonight. And we are not short of celebrity guests. Up in the stands we have Justin and Hailey Bieber, Shawn Mendes, and (y/f/n) (y/l/n)” The crowd cheered loudly following the announcement and the excitement only grew as your section was featured on the Jumbotron. You waved and smiled for the camera.

“It looks like there’s a rivalry going on up there.” The other announcer commented on the oppsoing jerseys you were wearing. You adjusted in your seat making it very known that you had a Kings jersey on.

“I would love to hear the trash talking that’s going on up there between Justin and (y/n)”

—

Once again the crowd went wild as Auston scored a goal. The group around you excitedly jumped up cheering along with others. You remained stoic looking down at your phone to check the time.

“At least pretend to be happy.” Justin leaned down to whisper his back facing the ice. “The cameras are on us.”

“Excitement for Auston is just something I can’t fake.” You finalized with a shrug of your shoulders, but the pleading look on Justin’s face was too hard to ignore. So you forced a smile throwing in a few claps.

“I’ll take it.” Justin said satisfied.

Once everyone calmed down you went back to your phone showing Shawn pictures from the vacation your family took recently. You were so absorbed in telling various stories from the trip you didn’t notice the time out that was called.

Shawn’s song, Fallin’ All in You began playing. You absentmindedly hummed along and looked up to see the Jumbotron started back up and this time with the kiss cam.

The camera suddenly panned on your section and was featuring Justin and Hailey. All of your friends instantly began cheering the couple on. And when they gave in and the crowd erupted.

Your excitement was fleeting though as the camera moved off of them and onto you and Shawn.

“Oh God.” You mumbled with a smile on your face trying to cover up any discomfort you were feeling.

You thought your immediate hesitation would be enough of an indication that you didn’t want to kiss your ex, but they persisted refusing to move the camera.

“They aren’t going to move on till we kiss.” Shawn whispered.

“Fine.” You conceded leaning back and looking over at him. “You make the first move.”

“Like our first kiss all over again.” He laughed before leaning over and kissing you. It was gentle and sweet, but had the whole arena booming with excitement.

You immediately covered your face laughing along with him as the camera stayed on you two to get the aftermath. Shawn kept his arm wrapped around your shoulders and kissed the side of your head. “Give it a second they’ll move on…And we’re good.”

You were relieved when you looked up and it wasn’t your face you were seeing on the screen. The breakup took place seven years ago and you stayed true to your word remaining friends after the split.

While there were no longer romantic feelings, Shawn was a comforting piece of your foundation. He not only maintained a good relationship with you, but your family as well. You knew he would be a part of your life for the rest of your life.

“Good job guys, no matter what happens with this game, that’s all anyone’s going to be talking about.” Justin reached over to fist bump Shawn.

“So we need to know are you guys back together.” Your best friend held out her water bottle as a fake microphone to you.

“Yeah, that kiss seemed pretty intimate.” Your other friend, Mason joined in also holding out a water bottle.

“Shut up.” You giggled pushing the water bottle away. “If any of you say we’re together I will end you.”

“Not the threats.” Mason joked, “I’m for sure telling TMZ that when they call me.”

Following the kiss cam the intensity seemed to go up for both teams, especially for one player in particular.

Auston wasn’t sure why seeing you on the kiss cam annoyed him so much, but it did. Everyone was supposed to be here to watch a hockey game and you turned it into a joke.

“Fuck.” He angrily slammed his stick against the boards breaking it before taking a seat on the bench.

“Dude, take a breather.” Mitch encouraged sitting down next to him.

“I’m fine.” Auston insisted taking a long swig from his water bottle.

“You sure because you’ve seemed tense?”

“Yeah I just want to win.” Mitch knew that wasn’t the reason, but he also knew not to push so he let it go.

Following your kiss he began playing harder. His hits were more forceful, his trash talking more heated, and his need to score at an all time. The intensity in the arena extended beyond the ice. As the game drew closer to ending fans of both teams started getting more aggressive.

“Matthews sucks. Anytime anyone gets near him he’s crying and acting like a little bitch.” A man sitting in front of you screamed at the glass. You had watched him down four beers already and become progressively drunk as the game went on.

“He’s talented, but selfish with the puck and a show off. The talent won’t last forever.” His friend next to him chimed in. They were both wearing Kings jerseys similar to the one you had on.

The way they were talking about Auston didn’t sit right with you. Any other day you would agree and probably even say those things yourself, but today was not that day.

You may have not known much about hockey, but you knew Auston was good (you would never admit that to him). And two middle aged men saying otherwise annoyed you.

“(Y/n), don’t.” Your best friend wrapped her hand around your wrist. You looked down now noticing that your hands were clenched and tapping against your leg.

“I’m not going to do anything.” You reassured her, trying to take deep breaths, in through your nose and out through your mouth.

“Are you sure? Because you have this crazy look in your eye and your extremely stiff right now.”

“I’m fine.” You seethed through clenched teeth.

“He’s overrated and overpaid.”

You took it upon yourself to tap on one of the men’s shoulder. As they turned around you cleared your throat and plastered on a tight smile. “Don’t you think this is the type of conversation you can have in your car on the ride home or maybe not even at all?”

“I can talk about whatever and whoever I want, when I want to.” The man on the right replied his beer sloshing around in his glass.

“You are two grown men talking about another grown man, be realistic.” You bit back, your attempt at being nice slowly fading away.

“You’re right we are grown men and allowed to have whatever opinion we want.” The second man replied raising his voice.

“Yeah maybe just don’t have it so loudly.” You suggested shrugging your shoulders and leaning back in your seat.

“You don’t know anything about hockey.”

“I know that right now the leafs are beating the kings.”

“Games not over yet.”

“And Matthews has scored two of their four goals.”

Despite your best attempts to keep the conversation cordial. The raised voices started gaining the attention of others around you. You knew a disagreement was one thing, but a full blown fight wouldn’t be a good look for you. As far as the public were concerned you weren’t the type of girl to be aggressive. And you would have maintained that look had one of the men not stood up so he was towering over you.

“He sucks the same way you probably get on your knees every night and suck his dick.” Any thought of being passive for your public image was out the window as you also stood not backing down.

“Excuse me.”

“You heard me.”

“No say it again I want you to hear yourself and how stupid you sound.” Image be damned. You didn’t want someone talking about Auston like that and you definitely weren’t going to allow them to talk about you like that.

“You’re nothing more than one of his sluts.” He threw his arms in the air, but before anything further could happen security was closing in on you quickly. You realized you hadn’t only caught the attention of the people around you but the whole arena as you looked up and could see yourself on the Jumbotron.

“And you’re a pathetic excuse of a human being. People pay to watch him, you’re running your mouth for free.” You had the final say as security pulled him away kicking both man out of the game. The crowd cheered watching them get escorted out, still fighting with anyone they could.

Watching them leave, however didn’t make you feel any better. You quickly picked up your bag and began climbing up the stairs before anyone could stop you. You were embarrassed that someone spoke to you like that especially in front of a crowd. You ran into the nearest bathroom locking yourself in a stall. You cursed yourself for letting your anger get the best of you. You knew this was going to be everywhere in a matter of hours. The string of texts coming into your phone from your publicist let you know that word already got to her.

“Fuck.” You groaned letting your head fall against the stall wall.

“(Y/n)?” You knew your best friend would find you. She stopped in front of the stall you were in, “I know you’re in there. I can see your feet.”

You groaned stomping your foot on the ground,“Go away.” There was no way you were opening the door.

“A security guard came over to us, Auston’s asking to see you.”

“No.” You flat out refused.

“Please.” You didn’t need to open the door to know she was biting down on her lip, a nervous habit she picked up from you. “He’s refusing to go back on the ice until he talks to you and they kinda need him.”

“Oh my god, he’s so dramatic.” You exclaimed opening the door. You usually were against giving into tantrums, but this needed to be resolved.

You begrudgingly followed security as they took you down to the tunnel where Auston was waiting.

“Are you crazy?” Auston screamed as soon as he saw you walking towards him.

Auston was confused as both teams were forced back to their benches in the middle of the game. Nothing happened on the ice to justify this, but as the crowd started to get loud and the Jumbotron featured the stands he realized it wasn’t because of what was happening on the ice, but rather off of it.

He watched as two people stood toe to toe yelling back and forth, neither backing down. But once he looked closer he realized he recognized the people around the two and then realized one of the people standing was you.

“So fucking stupid.” He mumbled, anger starting to flare up in his eyes. He continued to watch until the man raised his arm and that’s when Auston started moving before he could think. He didn’t get very far though, before multiple people were holding him back.

“Get off me.” He growled fighting against Mo, John, and Willy.

“You’re not going over there, this isn’t our arena and those aren’t our fans.” John kept his arms on Auston’s shoulders.

He continued watching as security closed in on the altercation separating you two, “fuck this.” He snapped breaking free from the hold on himself and moving towards the tunnel. “Someone get her down here.”

“Are you?” You shot back, “your holding up a whole game for this!” You motioned your hand between the two of you.

“I wouldn’t have to if you would’ve just sat down and stayed quiet!” He was pissed and didn’t care about who could possibly hear him.

“Oh yeah because I wanted a grown man yelling in my face.” You sarcastically let out, your voice going up an octave as you also got louder.

You watched as Auston shook his head and ran his hands through his hair. He had a concentrated look on his face, a look you’d seen before. This was the look Auston wore when he was trying to figure something out. But unlike before, the look didn’t go away, he was still frustrated.

“What the hell were you thinking?” He huffed pacing back and forth.

“I wasn’t, I was defending you!” You flung your arms in the air voice strained. “And based on how you’re treating me right now, I shouldn’t have.”

“I don’t need you to defend me.” Auston didn’t hold back, “people say shit all the time. You included.”

“But they weren’t me and no one besides me should say those things about you.” Your pulse was racing and it took a generous amount of self control to bring your voice back down to a reasonable level.

It felt like an eternity of silence before Auston finally replied, his voice much softer and more worn out, “You could’ve gotten hurt.”

“But I didn’t.” You watched as he leaned against the the wall hunched over. You realized that this was effecting him more than you. You were worried about your image, but Auston was worried about you. If anything would’ve happened to you, he would’ve never forgave himself. That’s not because he had any feelings for you, but because his parents raised him right (or at least that’s what he told himself when he flew off the ice and down the tunnel demanding to see you.)

“Hey, Auston.” You timidly touched his cheek forcing him to look at you. “I’m fine. Okay?” You searched his eyes for any confirmation that your words were getting through. “Plus I didn’t totally disagree with them, they did call you a little bitch.” The smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth and the deep chuckle confirmed that he was fine.

“A little bitch, huh? Not very original.”

“They also called me a dumb bitch so we have that in common.” You shrugged taking a step back.

Auston was amused, “Who would’ve thought that would be what we have in common.”

You smiled crossing your arms over your chest. You both took a second to really look at each other. You may have disliked each other, but you shared common ground when it came to dealing with hate. Auston didn’t deserve it any more than you did.

“This color looks terrible on you by the way.” Auston broke the silence lightly tugging at the jersey you wore.

“Really? You looked down at your outfit, “I think it’s sleek and flattering.”

“You’d look better in blue.” Auston stood to his full height.

“Win this game and I might consider it.” You offered side stepping to allow him to get closer to the entrance.

“Really?”

“No.” You shook your head, “but I do actually need you to win now. That fight can’t be for nothing.”

“This next goals for you, then.” He smirked.

“Don’t miss it like the last one.” You teased.

“Don’t get into anymore fights.” He retorted walking away and you watched as he returned from where he came.

#famous reader #hockey #maple leafs #nhl #nhl blurb #toronto maple leafs #celebrity reader #justin bieber #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #auston matthews x reader #auston matthews #la kings #hockey game #shawn mendes

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askinkiskarma · 1 year

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𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕚𝕟 𝕄𝕖 | ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀𝕀𝕀: 𝕀 𝔸𝕞 𝕃𝕠𝕤𝕥, 𝔹𝕦𝕥 ℕ𝕠𝕥 𝕀𝕟 𝕐𝕠𝕦

Pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!Reader

synopsis: in order to fulfil your revenge plans on Neteyam, you have to give up a lot of your life, including a future with a man who loves you dearly.

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, aged-up! Neteyam/Reader, enemies-to-lovers, angst (@lanasblood trying to be better about this), smut (fingering, orgasm denial), strong language, neteyam and reader being horrible to each other lol

wc: 6.5k words

a/n: things are starting to get spicy besties 😌 i have to admit, although i am a lot more comfortable with friends-to-lovers, or more angsty tropes, i adore writing the sexual tension that comes with e2l and i hope i did it justice and you enjoy this chapter. i can't wait to hear your thoughts, bbs and thank you again for all the love and support on this series xx (thank you very much also to @cinetrix for her amazing Neteyam art ily bestie x)

this is only half proof-read, so if you see any mistakes no you don't

na'vi compendium: yawne - beloved, Tsakarem - Tsa'hik in training, tìlor - beauty, txepvi - spark

: ̗̀➛ previous chapter (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series playlist (x)

In a perfect world, I'd kill to love you the loudest But all I do is live to hurt you soundless Say you see I'm lying, babe, and let this go I can never promise you tomorrow

The departing footsteps echoed through the forest as O'ì'en left you all alone, with a broken heart and the man that broke it, and the feeling left you empty, the hurt of what transpired, of what he did, what you did, how with each passing blow to each other’s lives, this was no longer just a petty rivalry but felt like so much more, like too much more. You threatened him, you spit all sorts of petty warnings about hell and burning - and in the heat of the moment, that sounded cool, and doable. Not anymore, as you stood motionless in the clearing and realised that Neteyam still had so much power over you, that his grasp on your life and on your heart was so tight, tighter than anyone else’s, tight enough to bruise and crush it with a tug of his fisted fingers. You removed yourself from his grasp like his touch burned you, which it felt like it did, and put distance in between your bodies, so that you could see him, so that you could clear your mind, so that his presence wouldn’t have the effect on you it always did, that you were sure was just your body recoiling in hatred, that always manifested itself in goosebumps and shivers down your spine.

“You’re such a fucking asshole.” The tears stung as you willed them back into your tear ducts. It’s been 7 years since Neteyam has seen you cry, and you’ll be damned if that would ever change, and especially right now, as you watched the smirk grow with every departing step, with every erratic blink of your eyes, as you tried to stop them from falling down your face, as he knew he got to you, that he made you pay for the words you uttered to him before.

“Oh, yawne. One day you’ll learn to not punch above your weight, and I guess since no one else is willing to, it falls onto me to teach you.” He walks slow, purposeful steps as he nears you once more, and his eyes boring into you, filled with intensity and a feeling you couldn’t quite place, that didn’t quite match the arrogance staining his lips like poison, stilled you in your spot, until he was so close, you could feel his warm breath and musky scent, until your heart boomed painfully in your chest, echoing loudly in your ears, marginally drowning out his next words.

“Did you really think you could threaten me and everything I’ve worked for, my relationship and the rest of my life, without any repercussions, huh? Did you really think I would go down without a fight?”

His hand raised and reached to push some unruly strands of hair out of your face, and you couldn’t look away from the soft glimmer in his eyes, that was so at odds with the rest of his face, you wondered if he even knew it was there. You wondered if he knew what it signified, because you didn’t. And despite your best efforts otherwise, you couldn’t deny the curiosity that deluged you, to try and find out.

The hint in his molten golden orbs dissipated as quickly as it appeared, and so did any middling emotion that tried you, as you once more found yourself reaching for your knife and unsheathing it, holding it in between both your hands, aiming for a shoulder… or a neck, and with a feral growl, you pushed your entire forced into the blow, and yelped in pain as one of his hands wrapped around both your wrists and twisted until the knife dropped pitifully on the ground with a loud clink. Tears threatened you once more at how futile the effort had been, how easy for him to overpower you like you were nothing more than a child, or a doll. He pinned your hands above your head and pushed you until your back collided with the bark of a tree and you felt the wind getting knocked out of your lungs at the contact.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk… why must you always resort to violence… yawne?” Your eyes widened as the hand that wasn’t holding you ghosted over your cheeks, tracing the air right above your lips with his thumb, and you were struggling, yet again, with the feelings that were plaguing you, that made burning appear everywhere his fingers were, burning the travelled down your body until they reached your core, that throbbed and clenched, that desperately asked you for something you would never, ever give it. After exploring your face, and tracing your jaw, his fingers finally settled on your chin, pushing it gently until your face angled upwards to meet his and no further breath could inch its way down your airways at the sight of him, at the way he looked at you, at the way it made you feel.

“You told me that you won’t mind burning in Hell as long as I burn with you. Well…” he broke eye contact to look around him at the forest surrounding you both. “Do you hear that, yawne? Fire is catching. And looks like we’re going to get to burn together after all.”

“Let me go. I told you what would happen if you ever touched me again.” His smirk never faltered, but only deepened as his eyes trailed over your body, settling on your lower abdomen.

“Mmm, yawne. I’m not sure you mean that.” It was your turn to reciprocate his guise, no ounce of shame or hesitation on your face.

“Let me go and you’ll find out whether I mean it or not.” his eyes widened, if only for a split second, and you felt like you imagined his grip on you loosening, or the fleeting sight of goosebumps peppered on his chest and neck, where your warm breath touched him.

“Are you really going to miss your chance to find lover boy and apologise like the good girl you like people to think you are?”

Your eyes lost momentary focus as he spoke. His words, although as cruel as usual, made guilt peak its ugly head over the thin-veiled curtain it was hiding behind, and you knew he was right. This was irrelevant. This whole fandangle of aggression and snarky remarks you always engaged in was not what should be occupying your brain, it wasn’t what mattered. O'ì'en mattered. Fixing Neteyam’s damage… and your own - that’s the only thing that mattered right now.

“Funny how quickly you seem to have forgotten about the one you supposedly love so much when I have your hands pinned above your head, isn’t it… yawne.”

His hands trailed over your arm as if on accident as he let you go and you felt embarrassed. Embarrassed at his words, at his effect on you, at how hard you were fighting your own body and mind as they were struggling to regain composure from his touch, and his voice, and his presence.

Hate. That’s all it was. It consumed you, and you wish it didn’t, but at the end of the day, it was still just harmless, bona fide, unadulterated hate. You ignored the way your cheeks caught fire and burned beneath your skin as you ran towards the village, towards where you assumed O’i’en was headed, without sparing your biggest, your only enemy a second glance.

'Cause I have yet to learn how not to be his This city will surely burn if we keep this as it is

You spent hours searching for him, but despite trying every place you knew he liked to frequent, all efforts proved futile. You knew he wouldn’t want to be found, but still, you held a glimmer of hope in your heart that at least subconsciously, he’d want you to find him, to allow him to explain what was mostly inexplainable and inexcusable - you couldn’t blame him for proving you wrong.

Eventually, as eclipse was nearing with each passing moment, defeated and regretful, you went to the nearby river, that was almost deserted due to the approaching evening, that you hoped would bring you some answers, or some solace… some strength. What were you supposed to do? Were you supposed to listen to Eywa, and your own heart telling you to go for this mateship that you knew was wrong, but felt drawn towards, for your own twisted, sadistic reasons? Or should you listen to your mind who told you to fight for what you knew would be a comfortable, healthy future, one that didn’t particularly enthral you, but hoped you could aspire to and embrace in time, with the insight that came with getting older? As always, the war between your mind and heart led to a painful impasse where both of them were bloodied and injured, but no discernible winners were left to claim victory on the choice, or on all the questions that plagued you.

You recognised Jake’s steps and his scent as he approached you, and you sighed. You were not in the mood for a lecture. Sure enough, he sat next to you, looking at the waterfall falling violently into the otherwise peaceful river, that rippled and bruised at the contact. It was funny to you now, sitting here, how that was a perfect metaphor for your relationship with Neteyam, how in his presence, you were just a river, and he was a force of nature, there to disturb and perturb, there to change you, so aggressive and formidable, and so strangely necessary. You were sad at how much his presence in your life mattered, how you knew that despite all the hurt and the pain, you owed him so much of who you were, so much of where you were. Because he pushed you every day, to be better, to strive for more, to want to be more like him in some ways, less like him in others - a better daughter, a better friend, a better sibling, a better soldier, a better warrior, a better clan member.

“Hey, kid. What are you doing here, eclipse will be upon us soon. You know the rules.”

“I know the rules, Jake. And with all due respect, right now, I really couldn’t care less about them.”

You turned to him and noted his expression melting from one of annoyance, raised eyebrow and an open mouth, ready to chastise you for your insubordination and recalcitrance, into a soft and pitying one, as he took in your tear-stained face and trembling lips. You never cried, not in front of anyone who mattered, so the fact that here you stood, so obviously distressed, concerned Jake more than he could say out loud.

“What’s wrong, baby girl? What happened?”

“I… I need to find O'ì'en… I’ve been looking for hours, but I can’t find him. Have you seen him anywhere?” Your sniffles and a hoarse, broken voice were more than enough to bring a grimace to the Olo’eyktan’s face.

“Oh, honey…” his arms circled your much smaller body and he squeezed, the much needed hug warm and very welcome. Your hand tightened around his forearm, and you started sobbing silently as he held you. You’ve always been immensely grateful for the Sullys and their patriarch, but especially so in moments like this, when his paternal instincts kicked in, a role he was much better at than he ever gave himself credit for.

“I ruined it… I ruined everything. I should have told him, I should have been honest with him. I should have come to you and asked you to free me of this responsibility that I never wanted to shoulder in the first place.”

“You can still ask, kid. We would never force you into something you genuinely aren’t comfortable with, and you should know that. In fact, you do know that. But you didn’t come. Why?”

You had no answer to that, because truthfully, you didn’t know. Getting revenge on Neteyam wasn’t a good enough answer, and more and more, you realised that - and you knew Jake would challenge you on it as soon as the words came out of your mouth. Getting revenge isn’t a good enough reason to sacrifice your own happiness, and liberty, your future as a warrior and your future with the man you wanted to want so badly. It wasn’t a good enough reason because it wasn’t the reason - not the only reason, not the full reason, but that was something you couldn't think about, you couldn't even fathom, not yet, so you didn't.

At your lack of response, Jake sighed and looked contemplatively at the river being perturbed by the waterfall crashing on it, at the way the water rippled and undulated, at the way the bioluminescent glow of the underwater plankton, that was visible now that eclipse settled over the land, warped under its force.

“Did I ever tell you I had this girlfriend back on Earth? This was when I was young, about your age.” You shook your head softly, not looking at him, still focused and mesmerised by the same view he was studying.

“She was amazing. So kind, and sweet, and beautiful… and good. Too good for me. And I loved her. She was the first girl I looked at and thought that maybe, just maybe, she would be the one. I used to pick her up after her classes were over and we would just drive in my car, just down the coast, in Anaheim at sundown, and I remember feeling so happy, thinking that I would feel this way the rest of my life.”

You thought about that, and about your boyfriend, who very much seemed like what Jake was describing, who brought you comfort and safety. You thought about walking with him in this place Jake called Anaheim, in a heavenly place away from hurt and pain, away from mistakes and fears, just two people who loved each other, who wanted to spend the rest of their lives together. You felt grief envelop you when the face that appeared in your visions wasn’t the one you wanted to see, the one you hoped you’d see, the one you needed to see. You hated your brain and your heart for not allowing you to commit to him the way you knew you should, in the way that would ensure you a future of happiness and peace, a love worth harbouring, a pure and kind love, just like the one Jake described.

“What happened? Between… you and her, I mean?” Jake shrugged, a small, content smile on his face.

“It just didn’t work out. I joined the military, she continued her studies. We would have never worked. I wasn’t good enough for her, and she deserved someone who could love her the way she was meant be loved. Anaheim is still a beautiful memory to me, and I’ll always cherish it, but it made way for something much, much better. For both of us.

I think sometimes we hold on to things we think we need, we want to want, but these things pertain to a version of ourselves that isn’t fully authentic. I think it’s easy to pretend when we’re with certain people that life is one way, that we could fit in it, in this world we’ve created in our heads, in the world that they inspire, but the sooner we accept the realities of our circumstances, of who we are and where we truly belong, the more time we have to enjoy life for how it’s meant to be lived: fully, wildly, being wholly ourselves.”

He stood up and headed back towards the village, not before giving you an affectionate pat on the head and a squeeze of your shoulders. His last words echoed in your ears long after he departed, leaving you with so much to think about, and so much pain at knowing he was right, and that soon, you’d have to break a heart and learn to mend your own.

“You can still ask, kid. I just think, deep down, Anaheim isn’t for you… just like it wasn’t for me.”

But I'd give anything to stop time And drive around Anaheim at sun down And teach my mind to put you first

It took the whole night, but you eventually found him, after a painful conversation with his mother, at a different river he used to love coming to as a little kid with his father, one much further away from the village. He was sitting on the river bank, lost in thought, his feet dangling mindlessly in the water that rushed downstream, agitated and tumultuous, much like your mind. You sighed deeply, trying your hardest to build up the courage for the most difficult conversation you’ve ever had, one in which you knew the end result was a broken heart, one that you caused, that you never meant to, that you would never want. You knew what it was like to be broken-hearted, sad and unmoored from the reality you’ve built up in your mind, from your hopes and dreams, from the future you were promised and now will never have again. But after the conversation with Jake, you knew it was the right thing to do. You loved O'ì'en, you truly did, just not enough to ever give him everything he needed and deserved, not for the rest of your life. You had darkness in you he would never be skilled enough to wander through, to bring light into, and you would never want him to try, not when it would dim his own light, that deserved to be nourished and heightened by someone, who much like him, was good and pure, and better than you’d ever be.

“O'ì'en…”

He wasn’t startled by your presence. His gaze didn’t shift from where it was intently fixed, and you knew you shouldn’t expect that it did. You wouldn’t want to look at yourself, either.

“You know, I watched for so long the interactions between you and Neteyam, and they always made me sad and uncomfortable. The hatred that I could not understand, that seemed to occupy so much of your time and space in both your minds, that consumed you both. I watched it, and I wanted to say something, but I never thought it was my place. It hurt me, seeing you suffer at his hands, and hurt me that you always reciprocated, that you never took the high road, that you always felt the need to one-up him, to give as good as you got. It was so toxic and unhealthy, and I hoped in time, you’d move away from it. I hoped I could help you. But now, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to, not anymore. And I don’t know if I want to.”

Tears rolled down your face with every word uttered, with every sentence that cut deeper and deeper in you, until you were bleeding and bruised, until it all hurt, being here, seeing him, hearing him, the past and the future, the present and your actions, and Neteyam’s actions, and everything that lead to this moment. It was so much easier to get your heart broken, you realise faintly, than to break a heart. Heartbroken, you could pity yourself, victimise yourself, tell yourself and the world that it’s not you, but the other person, the one who instigated it. You can sleep at night knowing you were wronged, that if it wasn’t for the pain that someone else caused you, things would be different, easier. There was nothing easy about watching a good person suffer and knowing you caused it, and you wondered how you were ever going to fall asleep again, how were you going to be able to live with yourself.

“I didn’t choose this, O'ì'en… any of this. I need you to know this. Mo’at asked us to come to her as a matter of urgency the other day, she told us that Eywa gave her a sign, showed her a vision, and that by her will, Neteyam and I will have to become a mated-pair.” You felt bad about leaving out certain… extenuating circumstances, but you realise that sometimes, certain things are better left unsaid and once some words are uttered, some actions taken, they can’t be recalled, they can’t be reversed, they won’t dematerialise - their echoes will forever ring through time, leaving damage and hurt in their wake, and you didn’t want that - not for him.

“Have you told her you don’t want to? Have you gone to the Tsa’hik, or the Olo’eyktan, or the Tsakarem and talked to them, told them you are in love with someone else, that you made up your mind? Did you fight for us at any point? For me?”

Your eyes widened at his words, that had an edge to them you’ve never observed in him before, that you didn’t even realise he was truly capable of. The words stung needles on your skin and in your eyes, that had prickling tears still falling uninterrupted, like summer rain, soaking your heart and soul that hurt because you knew that you couldn’t give him an answer that would satisfy him… you couldn’t give him an answer at all.

“They look at you like you’re their daughter. They would listen to you if you asked. But you didn’t, did you?”

“I once overheard Lo’ak talk about you and Neteyam to his human friend. He was concerned about you. About both of you. But aside from that, he talked about you two like you were an inevitability. About passion that ran so deep there was no way only hatred fuelled it. That there must be something underneath it all. I heard this and it made me angry at the time… I thought that he was unreasonable and out of line. Naively, I took your affection at face value and never looked beyond. Until now, that is. When I realised that in our time together, all the time we shared, all the moments that were sweet and innocent and everything I’ve ever wanted, you’ve never once shared even a fraction of that passion for me.”

“O'ì'en, no…”

“I think, deep down, you don’t want to get out of this because it’s finally a way to bridge the gap that has existed between you and Neteyam for so long, a gap you secretly wished had never existed. I think you’ve been in love with him since you were children, and this was the perfect opportunity to change a path you thought was set in stone before. I think he’s in love with you, too. But both of you are too mean, too stubborn with each other to see past your differences. To talk.”

“You’re wrong.” The temper was rising in your chest as his head continued shaking, denying your statement, as his words were processing in your mind, the unbelievable, insane, unreasonable words that you couldn’t believe were being uttered right before you, not by him. You wanted to scream at him, to shout and tell him that it’s all wrong, all of this, everything is all wrong. That the passion he’s talking about is just intense dislike that was so grand, so overpowering, it couldn’t be contained inside your body, nor inside his. That you were not in love with Neteyam - you hated Neteyam. With every fibre of your being, you loathed the man that hurt you so deeply, so intimately, for so long, that forsook the past you shared and the memories you made and what you meant to him, or what he meant to you.

You wanted to tell him that he’s delusional in ever thinking that man could ever be in love with you, when all he did was find new ways to torture you, to belittle you, to make you feel lesser than him, lesser than anyone he knew. How could that ever be love? How could that ever work? This was love. What you had with O'ì'en. Pure and good and kind and easy. Love wasn’t supposed to hurt, right? Love was supposed to feel natural, like coming home after a long, exhausting day, it wasn’t supposed to be what made the day long and exhausting in the first place. He was so wrong.

But you didn’t find it in you to argue with him. Not with him. Someone else will have to bear the consequences of your repressed anger, but not O'ì'en, because he deserves better than what he got, and what you gave, and in truth.. none of this mattered anyway. Arguing would make no difference in this doomed relationship, so you calmed yourself for the time being and spoke in as even of a tone you could manage.

“O'ì'en… I think you’re wrong. But, it doesn’t matter. You’re right that I didn’t talk to Mo’at, and that I should have. Regardless of the circumstances that led to this, I am so sorry. I will forever be sorry for the way you found out, for the way this came to be. I’m so sorry you had to be collateral damage in a war that is only mine to bear. I had a whole plan about how to tell you, I had so many things I wanted to say to you. That I’m grateful to you, and that I love you. That I’m sorry it wasn’t the way that you deserve to be loved, but I do love you. That I will never forget you, and your affection that shone so brightly over me, that was a safe haven from the bad storms I’ve had to weather for so long. That I’ll be sorry every day that I wasn’t good enough for you, but am relieved by the notion that one day, you’ll find someone so much better than me, someone who will be able to give you everything you deserve and then some, and I’m relieved in knowing you will be thankful to have been rid of me.”

You decided this would have to be enough for now. One day, maybe you’ll be able to face him again. One day, maybe he’ll even be able to spare you a glance, or a smile. But not today.

“I hope you forgive me one day.”

“Me, too.”

But I'd give anything to stop time, commit to you and not crimes Against your truth and lose sight of every divide threatening to undo this story But baby, I'm so sorry, I don't think that I'll ever memorise this route

It was a long way back to the village, and with every step taken and every moment passed, the anger that you tried to stifle for his sake came back ten fold - the tiring days of fighting, of crying, of suffering, of uncertainty and rampant emotions all building up within you, all coming to a calamitous zenith that threatened to spill all around you, that begged and urged for revenge, for payback on the man that caused it all, the man that was at the centre of all your life’s woes.

He ruined your relationship? Well… let’s see how he’ll like a taste of his own medicine. You knew exactly where you’ll find him, because you knew he’d be in the place he knew he could pester you the most, in a place that’s supposed to be yours, that he tainted over and over, that you will make sure to conquer back from him, the way you eventually would all of the pieces of yourselves he’s taken from you through time.

Your tent was quiet and untouched, unlike the little nook behind it, that was completely segregated from the rest of the clan, an oasis of secrecy and privacy in an otherwise bustling environment. A place that should be yours alone, but now hid two Na’vi, one of them mewling softly at the actions of the other. Neteyam was focused on his mate’s neck, their make-out session so intense, they didn’t even notice you until it was too late, until you stood behind them, until your presence was announced by a deep sigh and a disappointed click of your tongue.

“Oh, how disappointing.”

The girl let out a distressed yelp at your voice and pushed Neteyam off of her, eliciting a deep growl from the man that was less than impressed by the interruption.

“Am I interrupting?”

You saw Neteyam’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of you, at the way he knew what was coming. You laughed at his expression. What did he think was going to happen after what he’s done? What did he think you were going to do finding them here? The evil smirk that possessed you reminded you of his, and you wondered if this is how panicked you looked, too, when you saw him approaching you and O'ì'en.

“You know, if you’re going to continue going against the Olo’eyktan and the Tsa’hik’s wishes and cheat on your mate, I wouldn’t do it… you know, right outside of her tent.”

“WHAT?!” The high-pitched screech nearly deafened you, but you didn’t let it show. Instead you just watched as Neteyam scrambled to get himself out of the eye of the storm threatening to tear him apart.

“Tìlor, I -“

“Ah, your boyfriend didn’t tell you?” Your smile was sickeningly sweet as you approached the couple, stopping right next to Neteyam, placing a hand on his arm, tracing the protruding veins that made saliva pool in your mouth, and you bit back a laugh at the girl’s rabid look, that looked a lot like she was going to pounce on you at any given moment - you hoped she did. Nothing would make you happier than to have an excuse to rearrange her braids. This girl that always looked down on you, that looked at you like you were an outsider or a freak, that never even tried to mask her jealousy, her disdain, her fear at the fact the Sullys preferred you, and always will.

“I will be your Tsa’hik soon. Isn’t that right… yawne?”

“So unless you want me to go and tell the clan leaders… and your mother… and your father, and everyone who matters that you’ve been fucking someone else’s mate and watch as little by little, your entire world falls apart around you, I suggest you realise this man right here, he’s not worth it. Not worth all the drama, not worth all the fuss. Just go, and find yourself a single mate, and give thanks to Eywa she’s rid you of him, cause damn, I know I wish I could be.”

The hatred in her eyes was slowly replaced with fear and embarrassment, and for a second, just a second - you felt bad for her. Because no matter how badly she’s treated you, how she’s adopted Neteyam’s behaviour as her own with no reason or rhyme, much like O'ì'en, she was also just another collateral victim in a war that kept claiming lives and hearts, and you wondered where, if at all, the line would be drawn, when, if ever, would enough be enough?

You watched as she scrambled to fasten her top around her neck properly and without another word, she was gone, leaving just you and Neteyam alone, with enough tension in the air around you to suffocate you, to feel like smoke from a fire so grand, you didn't know if weren’t skilled enough to put out.

'Cause I have yet to know how to be mine You can try to unearth this soul I swear you'll hate what you find

“Why?”

“You’re making out with someone behind my tent, knowing that would piss me off, after what you did yesterday, and you have the nerve to ask me why?” you threw your head back and laughed at the outrageousness of the question. Neteyam wasn’t stupid - far from it. He was also not naive, or oblivious, or harebrained. The question had no business coming out of his mouth, but yet it did. You didn't have time to ponder the reasons why.

“You see, Neteyam, I think you came here because you knew I’d come. Because you secretly wanted me to. Because you know deep down that this girl has nothing to offer you, and you just needed an easy way out to rid yourself of her, and you needed me to do your dirty work for you again. Well, you’re welcome, Neteyam. What the fuck would you ever do without me, huh?”

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite. All the theatricals of being heartbroken over what I did to O'ì'en and then you do the exact same thing to someone else, someone innocent.”

“Innocent, ha! You think I give a shit about your little girlfriend’s feelings, when you treated O'ì'en the way you did? He didn’t deserve this, Neteyam. Any of this. He’s good man, he respects you, and looks up to you. He -“

“He should have known better than to associate himself with you.” His bared fangs didn’t do as much to scare you, not nearly as much as his proximity to you did, at the way his eyes stared daggers at your face, that even in the heat of the moment, at the peak of anger and hatred, couldn’t help settle on your parted, wet lips. “He should have known better and realise that all you bring in people’s life is disappointment and pain. He also should have known better and realise you didn’t love him. That you never will. That you might try to act like it and convince yourself, but someone like him would never, ever satisfy you.”

“And who the fuck would satisfy me, Neteyam? You? That’s rich. I bet your poor little girlfriend’s happy she’s rid of you. Bet you haven’t made her cum once. Too busy thinking of training and ruining my life, too busy thinking about how great you think you are to make room for anyone else in there.” You poked him in the chest with your index finger, right over his heart. Your touch lingered on his body, somehow unable to bring yourself to stop, half in awe at the way his heart was racing, at the way yours beat almost in sync with his, at the way you tried to convince yourself it’s because of the anger you were feeling, and no other reason.

“Yeah? Is that what you think?”

And there he was again, once more grabbing you by your throat, and you wanted to object, and fight him, but you didn’t - you couldn’t -, not as you felt throbbing deep within you at the action, not as you had to push your thighs together to accommodate for the increasingly uncomfortable sensation, not as your loincloth was becoming more and more damp by the second. And you remember your words, and remember that you told him that if he ever touched you again, you’ll make him pay for it, but right now, in this moment, you couldn’t find it in you to speak a word, as the intensity of his gaze knocked the air out of your lungs and his fingers squeezed just enough so no more could get back in you. Your back scratched painfully against a tree as he pushed you into it, and you couldn’t help a small moan as his other hand pushed your loincloth to the side, brushing over your folds that were now sopping and swollen. He let out a soft chuckle as he felt you.

“If that’s what you really thought, you wouldn’t be dripping on my fingers right now, tsxepvi.”

Slowly, deliberately, he started exploring your heat, thumb ghosting over your clit as he watched you squirm under his touch, struggling between what you knew you should do, between your conscious mind telling you you were going to pay for this in tears and heartache, and your subconscious mind screaming to let go, to embrace the overbearing desire to give in to him, as you did in the dreams you convinced yourself in time were nightmares, but knew more and more each day that it was just another lie you told yourself to keep going.

One side of you won by a landslide, as he gently pushed two fingers in you, as he started increasing the pressure with which he was massaging your clit, and it felt so good, too good, better than anything you’ve ever felt before. You tried to contain the sounds coming through gritted teeth with all your might, knowing what he was doing, knowing giving him any indication of the pleasure he was giving you would mean another thing you’d have to pay for later, knowing you couldn’t allow him to enjoy this, you couldn’t possibly give him the satisfaction of knowing he could do this to you, but you couldn’t stop, not when his fingers curled in you and found the spongy part that made you see glimmering, blinding lights and his thumb circled your needy bud in the perfect way to heighten the sensations running through you, electrifying your every nerve. The moans turn into mewls as he increases the pressure and his pace, and you felt the pleasure in you reach a high that you were ready to ride out, your orgasm so close you could practically taste it, and you’re barely able to think about how fucking quick it was, how it took no time at all for him to get you there, how skilled his fingers, as they worked his ministrations on you. You had no will to think about what the fuck was happening, how weird it was, how the man you’ve hated for so long is doing this to you, before the feeling got too overwhelming to be contained anymore.

“Fuck, i’m gonna -“

“That’s right, tsxepvi. I can feel you squeezing my fingers. You want to come for me?”

“Argh, I-“

The moan you let you wasn’t of pleasure, it was of deep, throbbing pain as the emptiness overtook you, as soon as he removed his fingers.

He smirked, an evil smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, as his fingers found his lips and he sucked on them, his tongue swirling in between them, licking every single drop.

“You taste fucking amazing, tsxepvi. Maybe next time, if you apologise and behave, you’ll actually get to cum.”

And with that, he was gone, living you an empty, horrified mess, as the high came crashing down violently and the consequences of the last few minutes replaced it to lead you in a spiral of mixed thoughts and feelings, each one more terrifying than the last.

'Cause I am lost, but not in you Yes, I am lost, but not in you

taglist: @fanboyluvr @theycallmesia @afro-hispwriter @soleilmoon @crazy4books1 @bakugouswaif@randxmthxughts @xreadersstuff @sirezaya @kimberlyshailany-blog @gyuventure @jujudsmyst @kikookii @nxptury @nonniesworld @koing-slvt @bakugouswaif @isnt-itstrange @tpwkforevermore @alahamums @tallulah477 @gknj9495@aquamarine001 @itssomeonereading @yumimak @sweetbread-m @eqgroil @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @juneonhoth @yagirlheree @jackiehollanderr @legendarynoodlebowl @iameatingmyhair @justasimps-blog

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seonghwaddict · 1 year

Text

EYES DON'T LIE — i. heat, physics and jeong yunho.

synopsis. you've always resented jeong yunho, and you were positive that the end of high school would've marked the end of your rivalry and hatred. yet now you find yourself in the same crappy hotel as him. assigned to be right next to each other much like the good old times. pairing. jeong yunho x fem! reader. genre. mini-series, fluff, slice of life, mature, academic rivals to lovers, non-idol au. chapter warnings. mentions of infidelity, immature teenagers, swearing. word count. 0.7k

playlist. chapter ii.

if you were asked to list three things you hated, it would have been the following:

1. heat

2. physics

3. and jeong yunho

first, it started with you two being in the same class for the entirety of elementary, middle and high school. you were an exceptionally hard working student; top of the class in every subject.

nearly.

because jeong yunho was just always equally as good as you. he just had to be. it’s not like either of you were first or second place. it was a shared space at the top. it was the most annoying thing. you hated it, but most of the time you refused to let it bother you. sometimes you thought about him too much, thinking about how if it weren’t for the constant arguing and you weren’t so petty, you could’ve been great friends. perhaps more.

unfortunately though, it seemed like his mission was to be a cocky smartass who just had to annoy you every chance he got.

like in chemistry class, you two were paired up out of a coincidental and greatly unlucky wheel of names spin. and he just wouldn’t stop taunting you.

“i think you’re doing that wrong.”

“one more word out of you and i’ll break this beaker with your face.”

“as if you could reach.”

“jeong yunho, if you don’t-“

or that time when you were assigned to sit next to each other in english for a full year. one day you walked in looking positively murderous because you hadn’t slept in three days. and he just wouldn’t mind his own business.

“damn, were you run over or something? who hurt you?”

“you. 5th grade spelling bee where you beat me by one word.”

“really?“

“no, of course not… actually maybe partially.”

or of course the times where’d you’d spit immature jabs at each other for no particular reason.

“you look stupid with your hair like that.”

“your lips are chapped.”

“stop looking at my lips, idiot.”

“i would but they’re so dry they might compare to your social life, it’s painfully hard to ignore.”

but then things got slightly more serious.

despite you warning her, your best friend started dating your mortal enemy jeong yunho in junior year. it wasn’t a surprise to you when they broke up and she came running to you, crying and stuttering out about how he absolutely broke her heart.

about how their three month long relationship came to a stop when he drunkenly admitted to cheating on her. multiple times. with different girls.

after that, any respect you had for him which wasn’t much anyway disintegrated into nothingness. though you did talk shit before, now it was a lot more frequent.

you found yourself and your best friend going on and on about how insufferable he was. how much you both despised him though you were usually the one throwing in more and more points.

to you, it was justified and perfectly valid.

he broke your friends heart, and soon after, you also heard about the things he’d say about you. spitting shit about how you thought you were “soooo much smarter than him” which you were and how you were “so obsessed with him” which you definitely weren’t.

you were more than relieved when twelfth grade came to an end. nothing could’ve ruined your day not even when the devil himself jeong yunho sauntered up to you with a cocky smile. you barely spared him a glance, even when he brought up the fact you were each other’s co-valedictorian—a title your school had come up with because they genuinely couldn’t choose who deserved it more.

after the ceremony, the two of your had to stand together for almost half an hour, receiving flowers and congratulations from teachers and parents alike. but, alas, before you knew it, it was over.

all the prolonged eye-contact and glares from across the classroom. all the accidental run-ins during your free periods. the heated yelling during debate club. analysing and picking him apart to find flaws, just to realise there weren’t any. the bickering. the frustrating and borderline flirtatious comments he’d make any chance he got.

it was all over and you’d never have to see him again.

playlist. chapter ii.

[ lilo's notes . . . ] and there is the first chapter. i hope you guys enjoyed this :)

[ networks . . . ] @cromernet @blankjournal [ taglist . . . ] @diorwoo @yuyusuyu @loveyluv7 @ad0rechuu @h-nji [ permanent taglist . . . ] @ad0rechuu @sankatchu

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seiya-starsniper · 1 year

Note

For the blossoming romance asks: 18? 💜

Cecccciillllllll thank you for this lovely ask, I had so much fun writing it 💖💖

Bit early for Saturday, but this fill does kind of fulfill the prompt "Touch Starved" for Dreamling Week too 👀

blossoming romance writing prompts

--------

hello/goodbye hugs that linger

Hob Gadling, Dream has found, is rather fond of hugging.

At the end of a long night spent conversing at The New Inn, Hob had wistfully asked Dream “a hundred years, then?” perhaps expecting the same answer Dream had provided him for the last 600 years. But his time imprisoned has changed him, and so Dream instead says,

“I’ve heard that friends meet more often than merely once a century.”

The smile on Hob’s face grows slowly. It starts with surprise and wonder, a slight quirk of the lips, as if the immortal cannot believe what he has just heard. Then it grows into a blinding thing, full of teeth and unrestrained joy.

“Next week then?” Hob asks. “Perhaps next Saturday at 7pm?”

Dream thinks of his duties, of all the rebuilding he must do for his realm, of the still missing dreams and nightmares, and the vortex that is threatening to destroy the very fabric of the universe.

“I believe I shall be able to make it,” Dream answers, a small smile creeping up his own face.

“Wonderful!” Hob exclaims. “I shall see you here again, then.”

When they stand to depart the pub, Dream finds himself suddenly enveloped in warmth and the smell of old wood smoke and beer. He freezes, uncertain at first of what is happening until realization dawns upon him seconds later.

Hob is hugging him.

Dream does not know for how long Hob embraces him, but it is over too soon for his liking when the man releases Dream from his hold.

“Sorry, probably should have asked first if you were the hugging type,” Hob says, suddenly shy and refusing to meet Dream’s eyes.

“I…I am not sure that I am,” Dream answers honestly. “It has been some time since someone last held me. At least a century, if not more.”

Hob’s eyebrows raise suddenly, alarm written all over his face.

“There’s a story behind that, isn’t there?” he asks, and Dream can feel the ache in Hob’s voice as he voices the question.

Dream nods. “I am not ready to tell it, yet. Perhaps next week. Or the week after.”

“However long you need,” Hob reassures him. “I’m not going anywhere, my friend.”

On the evening before their next meeting, Dream is exhausted. He has unmade his favorite creation, killed a dream vortex, fought with his favorite arcana, and discovered his sibling had intervened in his realm in a petty attempt at sibling rivalry. All within the span of a week.

—

It is. A lot.

Dream considers canceling their meeting. Reaching out to Hob in a dream and asking to postpone their appointment until Dream can collect himself and feel less unmoored.

But Saturday comes, and Dream finds himself standing just outside The New Inn, contemplating why he has not yet entered.

“My friend!” he hears from directly behind him.

Dream turns and there Hob is, dressed in an outfit similar but not exactly the same as the one he wore last week. The brown leather jacket is the same, as are the shoes, but his trousers are a different color and he’s wearing some sort of graphic tee shirt instead of a plain white one.

“Hello Hob,” Dream greets, trying his best to smile, despite his exhaustion.

Hob’s brow furrows. “Are you all right, my friend?” he asks, concerns clear in the tone of his voice.

“I am…fine,” Dream answers though he is anything but.

Hob huffs disbelievingly. “No, I don’t think you are,” he says. “Ah fuck it.”

Hob pulls Dream into his arms and Dream gasps at their sudden closeness. Hob still smells like old wood smoke, and Dream wonders if this is his natural scent, or if it is some sort of cologne he wears, whose purpose is to drive Dream to madness with how much he wants to inhale it.

Dream’s exhaustion lowers his inhibitions, and before he can think better of it, he finds himself wrapping his arms around Hob’s back and burrowing his face into the other man’s shoulder. He thinks the wood smoke smell is strongest here, in Hob’s jacket, and he wonders what Hob has done to imprint this smell into the material.

“There, there,” Hob says, rubbing smooth circles into Dream’s back. “I’ve got you, old friend. I have you. I’m here.”

Dream finds himself clinging to Hob, perhaps more than is socially acceptable amongst humans, but the other man doesn’t seem to mind. They stand there, just holding one another, until a bar patron from inside emerges, forcing them to break apart and move away from the entryway to the pub.

“I don’t think the pub is the best place for our meeting tonight,” Hob says, once the other person is out of sight. “My flat is not too far from here, if you don’t mind a walk? I’ve got a bottle of mead old as Queen Elizabeth herself in the fridge. I think you may need it.”

“I believe,” Dream answers, his tongue heavy like molasses in his mouth, “that you may be correct.”

Hob smiles. “And I can hug you all you want in the privacy of my living room.”

“I would like that,” Dream says, and finds that he means it. Already his heart is lighter after Hob’s embrace, and perhaps it will grow lighter still, with each subsequent one, given freely, by his oldest friend.

#dreamling #dream x hob #dreamling week #the sandman #seiya writes #I too would like a hob gadling hug pls #seiya drabbles

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sh4wty18 · 7 days

Text

girl of your dreams - chapter two.

one. | two. | three.

pairing: hockeyplayer!chris x figureskater!reader

summary: chris keeps getting distracted at practice. then he invites his rival to a party.

cw: rivals to lovers, angst, first person POV, language

word count: 1.2k + not edited

tags: @joeshiestyslover @chrissbluehat @h3arts4harry @wompwomp-1 (if you want to be tagged, comment!)

dividers from @plutism

---

Chris’s POV

All week at practice I’ve been getting distracted by Y/n. What? It’s not my fault she’s so fucking hot. And that attitude of hers, shit. I’m lucky she’s never been to one of my parties, even though I want her to come. Me plus her plus alcohol equals disaster. I think the second a drop of alcohol enters my system around her, I’d kiss her.

On the hockey team, I play center. I’m supposed to be scoring all the goals and leading the team to victory, but this week I’ve been missing the puck left and right. Every time I glance over at the women’s figure skating team, I catch a glimpse of Y/n landing some insane trick. Like right now, she just landed two three sixty turns in a row perfectly on one foot. I don’t know what that move is called, but I know she looked incredible doing it. She looks up, and for a second her gaze meets mine. I look down at the ice, and I can practically feel her sarcastic eye-roll burning into my skin. If looks could kill, I’d be dead a hundred times over.

“Sturniolo! Come on, get your head out of your ass!” Coach Carter yells across the rink. “Less ogling the girls, more scoring! We got a game on Monday.”

A few of the guys on my team snicker as I awkwardly make my way back to my starting position. “Sorry, coach,” I mumble. One of the wingmen passes me the puck, and I maneuver it up the rink and swing. It flies past the goalie and into the net, and the horn blares out above us.

“Fuck yeah!” I shout, and turn to look at the figure skaters. Sure enough, Y/n is staring at me. I shoot her a grin, and I swear, I catch her starting to blush. But before I can confirm it, she looks away.

It’s this little game we play. We pretend to hate each other, or at least, I do. She might actually hate me for all I know, although I hope she doesn’t. Really, we’re just rivals in the academic sense. I can tell she gets mad that I like to party and can still pull good grades. Great grades, even. Grades as good as hers. I don’t try as hard as her, and I know it. The professors love me, the girls love me, and I know how to get what I want. In Model UN, we’re co-presidents, and sometimes I like to debate her on purpose, just because I know I get under her skin. I know that makes me a dick, but so what? She’s a dick to me, too. We’ve had this rivalry since freshman year, and maybe that makes us immature. Going on four years of petty arguments, scowls, and sarcastic remarks. I can’t help it. She’s insufferable. But fuck, she’s so hot.

I don’t know when it happened, but somewhere between freshman year and now, my feelings for her elevated to include not only reluctant toleration and annoyance, but also pathetic pining. I want her– bad. But she also makes me so angry. With her stupid preppy outfits, her try-hard, kiss-ass attitude, the smug looks she gives me every time she beats me to answering a question in class. She’s enraging. And yet, she’s still who I think about every night when I’m trying to fall asleep. God, what is happening to me?

“Sturniolo!! Alright! Go the hell home– all of you! We’re done here. Come back on Monday with a clear mind. It’s obvious you don’t want to be here right now,” Coach Carter yells.

I don’t move at first, none of us do. He’s never kicked someone out of practice before, let alone the entire team. And it was all my fault.

“What about Saturday practice?” a guy named Charlie asks.

“Canceled.” We all stare in awe. He must be really mad. “Well? Get the fuck out of my rink!”

We all scramble to glide off the rink and towards the bleachers. As we pull off our skates and make our way into the locker room to get changed, everyone is giving me dirty looks. I have no defense. I ruined practice because I was thinking about fucking my rival. Who am I? She probably doesn’t even feel the same about me.

To make it up to the boys, I quickly made an offer. “Alright, guys. I’m sorry about today. I don’t know what’s gotten into me, I’ve been having an off week. How about we chill at the ADPhi house tonight? I host, free alc, on me?”

A few guys laugh and smile. One of my friends, Jackson, claps me on the shoulder, “Sorry? You saved us from Saturday practice! We gotta get you in trouble more often!” He laughs, and I do too. “Yeah, man, we’ll see you tonight.”

I smile and continue changing. It’s good to know not everyone is mad at me. The last thing I want is to let my team down. We all collect our things and make our way back out to the rink, where most of the figure skating team is grabbing their stuff to head out, too. Both the coaches have left at this point, so I feel completely comfortable shouting, “Hey! Hockey-figure skating double party tonight! ADPhi house! You all better fuckin’ be there!” I smile and wink at the women. Most of them smile back and give me nods of affirmation. Except one.

Y/n keeps her head down, continuing to throw her belongings into her bag as if I didn’t say anything at all. I let out a quiet huff. I sit on the far end of the bleachers until the majority of my teammates and the figure skaters have left, and it’s just me, Y/n, and a few stragglers remaining. I slowly make my way up to her, leaning down to meet her line of sight.

“What do you want?” she asks like she could not give less of a shit about anything I have to say. Like I’m just the piece of meat standing between her and the library. I hate how much it turns me on, to hear her that pissed off at me. Fuck.

“You coming tonight?” I ask, even though I know the answer. I just want to hear her say it.

“Chris, you know I’m not.”

I chuckle, “I know you don’t like having fun. I shouldn’t have even asked.”

This throws her for a loop, and she lets out a shocked sigh. “I do like having fun.”

“Oh yeah?” I ask, giving her a lopsided, cocky smile. “Prove it.”

Her face flushes, and I pretend I don’t notice. “I don’t have to prove anything to you.”

“You’re right, you don’t. But think of how good it would feel to show me up. You’re always trying to prove me wrong. Isn’t that like, our whole thing?”

“We don’t have a ‘thing’,” she says. Ouch.

“Come on, Y/n. Haven’t you ever wondered what it feels like? To break the rules. Do something no one would ever expect of you.”

Somehow, this is the thing that makes her consider it. I can practically see the gears turning in her head. “Fine.”

Yes! I smirk. “See you tonight.”

---

i love this and i cannot wait to write more chapters of this fic! tysm for your patience :)

#sh4wty18 #original fiction #fluff #angst #angst with a happy ending #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo angst #hockeyplayer!chris #hockeyplayer x figureskater #hockey!au

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dstryvampres · 3 months

Note

okay so...one shot inspired by song "my oh my" (by aqua) (or just a pirate au) with neil lewis?

I do not write pirates well(I have no knowledge of them sorry anon) so I'm so so sorry that this is not very well written or long !! forgive me pleasee. this is more dnd based than realistic.

Pairing: knight!Neil Lewis x pirate!reader

Warnings: no smut this time sorry gang, mentions of violence, sword fighting, Neil is so so so ooc

Word Count: 911

Neil fucking Lewis, if there was ever a man you hated it was him. It was him and his stupid little band of knights that seemed hellbent on following you and your crew around the continent to stop you from stealing anything. This would’ve been fine for anybody else, a lowly rogue or a petty assassin. You had a name to uphold, a ship to upkeep, and a crew to feed.

“So, we meet once again,” Neil grins, atop of his steed on the port you were just about to dock.

“How the fuck did you find me Lewis?” you hiss, looking down at him from the deck of your ship.

“Followed my heart,” Neil sighed dramatically, covering his heart with his hand.

“I’ll fucking kill you,” it’s an empty threat, you and Neil have been playing this game for years if either have you wanted you could’ve a long time ago.

“I’d like to see you try,” Neil teases, before turning around a riding away.

You hear a snicker behind you. One of your own men is laughing at you? When you get your hands on that conniving bastard– There’s more than one. Fuck. Your whole crew? You turn around, trying to shoot each member of your crew a hostile look. Like you havent raised and nurtured every single one of them, like you didn’t give them the clothes on their back, and the food on their plates.

“When are you two just going to fuck?” your right-hand man chuckles, walking up and slapping a hand on your shoulder.

What? God, you don’t have time to deal with this.

“Dock the boat, someone! Anyone! Then we try to pillage this town and leave, I don’t care if Lewis is here!” You shout, waving off the hand on your shoulder and walking off.

What does your crew even know about a good old fashioned rivalry? It’s like no one can appreciate when two people just hate eachother any more. Technically you’re a little sexually pent up, it’s hard to get any action as a constantly thwarted pirate, but that doesn’t play much into your relationship with Neil. Nope, not one bit. Just because the knight is attractive doesn’t mean you want to have anything more than a passionate rivalry with him. Sometimes you think of Neil when you get off at night, but everyone feels that way about their rival. Totally…

Before you were able to start questioning yourself on this relationship the ship was docked, and you had to lead your crew into raiding the seaside village you just docked in. You motioned and yelled for everyone to go and get off the ship, the slam of feet landing onto the dock and the running into the town mixed with the slash of swords being grabbed. Soon enough you too were running up the dock, sword in hand.

You wouldn’t be doing any of the dirty business, merely just watching over your crew and directing your side of the chaos. Neil and his men were waiting out somewhere near, so you had to be alert to where he could be. It’s hard to see anything between the chaos in the town; homes being lit on fire, the clashing of swords with one another and possibly civilians, groans of pain, and you shouting out instructions. Through all of this it would’ve been nearly impossible for the average man to react to the slash of Neil’s blade towards you, but you managed to dodge his attack. Retrieving your own sword and retaliating.

“You’re much sharper than I thought,” Neil teases, offering a cocky smile.

“We’ve fought almost everyday for the past two years, why are you so surprised?” you bite back, aiming for his leg with your next slash. Only to be blocked by Neil’s own sword.

“Thought I did,” Neil ducks down to avoid another slash from you, “more damage last time.”

“You barely scratched me,” you say, it’s cocky despite the fact that Neil is pushing you back onto the dock with his own moves.

“I swore you keeled over,” Neil swings his own sword over his head, which you can barely block with your own force.

Neil starts to falter, allowing you to push back enough so that you and Neil are essentially face to face, breathing each other in. Only thing between you two being the metal of your own swords. Here, when you’re breathing down eachother’s necks, in the midst of battle, is the time when it starts to dawn on you that Neil is probably the only person you know who can fully understand you and your own personal struggles.

“You’re beautiful,” Neil whispers, just loud enough for you to hear. Maybe he never meant for you to hear that at all, you just did.

Those words alone almost make you lose your stance against Neil, but if you fall now you fall back into the depths of the sea. You push back against him, none of you moving from your oddly close positions in front of one another. The cycle continues as you get back onto solid land with Neil, both of you falling to the floor heaving. Neil is so far from you, but he’s always right where you are. Somehow he get every part about you, but he fucking hates you. There’s a part of you that hopes that one day you can fling yourself and Neil to the bottom of the ocean.

Taglist: @paradiseprincesss @luluartpop @xanaxiii @galactict3a

#neil lewis x y/n #neil lewis x you #neil lewis fanfic #neil lewis x reader #neil lewis #watching the detectives #fanfic #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian fic #cillian x fem!reader #dstryvampres #cillian #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian x reader #cillian fanfic

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takingchences · 11 months

Text

𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐩𝐭. 𝟑

A descendant of a legendary quirk longs to separate herself from her family name, but first she'll have to confront villains, ghosts from the past, and her growing attraction for Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight.

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x OP!fem!oc

Warnings: mature language

series masterlist + my masterlist

After a few more exercises, the fitness test was officially over.

"All right, time to give you your results. I've ranked you all from best to worst. You should probably have a good idea of your standing already. I'll just pull up the whole list. It's not worth going over each individual's score."

Momo came in first place, then Shoto, with Bakugou ranked third. Sana found her name in the seventh slot, right above Kirishima's and Mina's. I did it, Sana giggled breathlessly as Mina roped her into a side hug. I passed. But then... who didn't?

Midoriya's name sat at the bottom of the list. The boy cradled his injured hand with a distressed look on his face. Just like that, he's gone? She frowned.

Sure, she understood Aizawa's point about not wanting to waste time and resources on students with no potential, but on the other hand, didn't Midoriya's strength and determination make up for his lack of control? Out of the thousands of applicants, hadn't they been chosen because U.A had seen promise in them?

Their home room teacher clicked a button on his remote, making the holographic rankings disappear. "And I was lying," he said in his lazy drawl. "No one's going home."

Pure silence.

A deranged smile appeared on the Pro's face. "That was just a rational deception to make sure you gave it your all in the tests."

Sana thought Midoriya was going to vibrate right out of his red sneakers from shaking so hard.

The only person who didn't seem surprised by Aizawa's announcement was Momo, who stated that she'd known all along that it was nothing but a ruse.

It didn't seem like an empty threat though, Sana thought as the class stood frozen in front of the disheveled Pro. She remembered the hard look in the man's hooded eyes, his unruffled attitude at the thought of potentially crushing someone's dream. Maybe he realized that the most rational decision would be to wait and see what all we're capable of before making any big decisions.

In contrast to their relief, Bakugou almost seemed disappointed that no one would be going home. Midoriya is still here, so that's not much of a surprise. The explosive blonde seemed to regard everyone he came across either as competition or beneath him in some way, but something was different between the two boys. She wasn't sure if it was a petty rivalry or something more that fueled Bakugo's apparent hatred for the greenette.

"We're done for the day. Pick up a syllabus in the classroom. Read it over before tomorrow morning." Aizawa called as he stalked back towards the main building. Class 1-A, with the exception of Midoriya, headed to the locker rooms to change back into their uniforms.

After grabbing a syllabus and collecting her things, Sana exchanged phone numbers with her new friends. If today is anything to go by, then I think this will be a very interesting year.

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

Day two of Sana's high school career started off much better than the first, mainly because her father had already left the house by the time she'd made it downstairs. "Well, that's one less thing to worry about," she hummed pleasantly as she dug into her breakfast.

Today would be her first full day at U.A. She'd be introduced to more Pro Heroes, get to hang out more with Mina and the gang, and most importantly, she'd get to taste the cafeteria food. I wonder what Lunch Rush will be serving today? Sparkles surrounded her at the promise of delicious treats.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" Umi appeared next to her with her hands on her hips. "Is it because of All Might?"

Eh? Sana stopped chewing on her blueberry muffin. "All Might?"

The gray-haired woman looked surprised. "Didn't you hear? There's a rumor going around that U.A offered him a teaching position."

"No, I hadn't heard." Sana shrugged, pinching off another bite of deliciousness and letting the warm pastry melt on her tongue. Umi sweatdropped at the girl's lack of interest in anything but her muffin.

"You know, most kids your age would be thrilled after hearing that they might get to train under the number one hero."

It wasn't that Sana disliked the Symbol of Peace, she just didn't feel the need to worship him like the majority of the world. Maybe it was because she'd heard so much about him growing up under Endeavor, but she preferred less flashy heroes like Best Jeanist and Mirko. She liked Hawks too... though mostly because he was young and hot.

"I hate to be the one to break it to you, Umi, but I'm not like most kids."

A soft pat on the head had Sana tearing her attention away from her breakfast. The old woman had a small smile on her face, but her eyes held only sadness. "Eat up, my little sunflower. You'll need all your strength if All Might is your teacher."

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

Besides learning how to react during natural disasters and take down villains, U.A students were also required to take standard core classes like English and Math. After eating lunch with Mina and the rest of the girls of 1-A, it was time for Hero Basic Training.

"I AM HERE!" A boisterous voice announced. "Coming through the door like a hero!" Sana almost snorted at the hulking man lingering in the doorway on the tips of his toes.

The classroom buzzed with excitement in the overwhelming presence of All Might, the Number One hero. "Welcome to the most important class at UA High. Here, you will learn the basics of being a pro."

The Symbol of Peace held out a card with the word "battle" on it.

Sana could practically feel Bakugou's excitement, as well as Midoriya's dread. These two need a larger buffer zone between them than the seat I'm occupying. She placed her chin on her hand. Let's just hope they don't have to go against each other during the exercise. Or worse, team up.

All Might pointed at the wall, where cases with numbers in them were sliding out. "These were designed for you based on your quirk registration forms and the requests you sent in before school started."

After changing out of uniform, the class gathered at Ground Beta for training.

Sana was happy with how her costume turned out. The design was rather simple: a black bodysuit made from iridescent material so that the color changed in the light. Gold detailing was woven beautifully throughout the suit. Lightweight armored paneling protected the soft tissue along her chest, abs, and back while also acting as cooling jets installed to help regulate her core body temperature. The material itself was breathable, as well as heat and flame resistant. Small diamond cuts of fabric along her body exposed flawless golden skin. The dark color of the fabric would also help her absorb heat.

She'd wanted to wear something beautiful, but also embodied what kind of hero she wanted to be. Sana wanted to be seen as a guiding light, a beacon of hope. The deep, pink-purple costume shimmered like oil in the afternoon sun. She'd also requested a tinted visor to help shield her eyes. Her knee-high boots were more of a fashion statement than anything, though they did nothing to hinder her movements. The thick, sturdy heel was enforced with a bouncy material to make them more comfortable when worn for long periods of time. Some heroes wear capes while others wear heels.

As bonus accessories, she'd been given a pair of three-fingered gloves to wear to prevent accidentally burning a civilian due to the heated nature of her quirk.

She quickly inspected her classmates' costumes. Kirishima had opted out of wearing a shirt, bless his saintly soul. His shredded back muscles and drool-worthy torso were on full display. Momo was showing almost as much skin as the human boulder, if not more. Mina wore a psychedelic-patterned leotard with a fur vest because why not? Shoto's entire left side was covered in ice, with an eerie red light where his turquoise iris would normally be. The sight made her sad.

Iida looked like a cross between a robot and a futuristic knight. Midoriya looked every bit like the All Might fanboy she'd imagined him to be, and Bakugou looked badass with a capital ASS standing there with huge, gauntlet-like contraptions strapped to his forearms.

His toned, athletic physique, which had been hidden away beneath his baggy uniform, was now very noticeable. His chest is bigger than mine, Sana half-joked, her eyes lingering on the bulging muscles of his arms and shoulders as they flexed under the weight of his support gear.

"What the hell are you staring at, dumbass?" Bakugou squinted at her choice of costume. Compared to something as elaborate as his, her's was nothing special to look at. She had no need for support items, so her outfit was pretty basic.

"Your tits," she replied honestly.

His eye twitched in annoyance, a feral, demon-like sound emanating from deep within his chest. "WHAT DID YOU SAY?!" Heh. Cute.

"Wow! You guys look super manly!" Kirishima greeted the two cheerfully, completely ignoring the blonde's outburst.

"Hey, Sana!" Kaminari slung an arm across her shoulders, pulling her into his chest. Her long, stawberry blonde hair brushed against his shirt. "Do you know what my costume is made of?" His golden eyes stared into her's excitedly.

She shook her head. "Um, no?"

"Boyfriend material." He pinched his collar and winked, a proud grin on his face. Sero and Mina rolled their eyes at the lightning-haired boy as they joined the group.

"Hey, Pikachu." Mina pulled her new bestie out of the blonde's embrace. "Quit trying to steal my girl." Mina nuzzled Sana's cheek with her own, making the Sakano girl laugh.

"They say that clothes make the pros, young ladies and gentlemen, and behold, you are the proof!" All Might cut their conversation short. "Take this to heart. From now on you are all... heroes-in-training!" She noticed All Might shaking with suppressed laughter at Midoriya's obvious inspiration. He could've been a little more subtle with the design, but the overall look was kinda cute. Like a bunny.

"Now that you're ready, it's time for combat training."

"Sir!" Iida raised his hand. "This is the fake city from our entrance exam. Does that mean that we'll be conducting urban battles again?" Again with the entrance exam, Sana sighed. Recommended students are really at a disadvantage here, huh?

"Not quite." The Pro held up two fingers. "I'm going to move you two steps ahead. Most of the villain fights you see on the news take place outside. However, statistically speaking, run‐ins with the most dastardly evildoers take place indoors. Think about it. Backroom deals, home invasions, secret underground lairs. Truly intelligent criminals stay hidden in the shadows." Makes sense, Sana nodded along. The less eyes on you, the more you can get away with. "For this training exercise, you'll be split into teams of good guys and bad guys and fight two‐on‐two indoor battles."

"Isn't this a little advanced?" Tsuyu asked.

"The best training is what you get on the battlefield!" All Might answered. "But remember, you can't just punch a robot this time. You're dealing with actual people now."

"Sir, will you be the one deciding who wins?"

"How much can we hurt the other team?" Of course he would ask that, Sana rolled her eyes.

"Do we need to worry about the losers getting expelled like earlier?"

"Will you be splitting us up based on chance or comparative skill?"

"I wasn't finished talking!" All Might quickly grew flustered with all their questions. He pulled out his notecards and began to read off the rules of today's exercise. "Listen up. The situation is this; the villains have hidden a nuclear missile somewhere in their hideout. The heroes must try to foil their plans. To do that, the good guys either have to catch the evildoers or recover the weapon. Likewise, the bad guys succeed if they protect their payload or capture the heroes." The hero held up a box. "Time's limited, and we'll choose teams by drawing lots!"

"Isn't there a better way?" Iida was doubtful.

"Think about it! Pros often have to team up with heroes from other agencies on the spot, so maybe that's the reason we're seeing that here." Midoriya pointed out the functionality of using this method to pick teams.

"Yes, I see." The speedster realized. "Life is a random series of events. Excuse my rudeness."

"No sweat." All Might assured the teen. "Let's draw!" Each student went up and drew their lots one by one.

Not Shoto, not Shoto, not Shoto. Sana chanted as she placed her hand inside the box. Under normal circumstances, the two made a great team. But she wasn't sure how things would go if they were to be partnered up now. Their dynamic had changed... and not necessarily for the better.

Team I, she read. Glancing around, she eventually found her partner for the day. It was a hard task seeing as the girl was completely invisible except for the pair of gloves and boots to indicate her presence. Hagakure, she remembered from lunch. That's her name.

"I declare that the first teams to fight will be... these guys!" All Might held up two balls. "Team A will be the heroes, Team D will be the villains." Looking at the named groups, Sana nearly choked on air.

Bakugou vs Midoriya.

Well, it was nice knowing you, Midoriya. You will be remembered fondly.

"Everyone else can head to the monitoring room to watch!"

As the rest of the class followed behind the massive hero, Sana hesitated, wanting to say something first. "Hey," she turned to the glowering blonde beside her, his ruby eyes locked in on his target. A determined-looking Midoriya met his gaze head on. "Bakugou."

"What?" He growled, refusing to look her way.

"I know it's none of my business, but the two of you seem to have a history." Sana spoke carefully. Bakugou wasn't the easiest person to talk to, especially when he was worked up about something (that something usually being Midoriya). And though he may not like what she has to say, it was something she felt he needed to hear.

"You're right," Bakugou grunted. "It's not."

Sana's eyes narrowed, her arms crossing over her chest defensively. "Whatever your problems with each other are," she continued. "You need to let it go. At least for the duration of the exercise." Otherwise someone is going to get hurt. She knew from their expressions that both boys were taking this mock battle much too seriously. Idiots. Can't they put aside their issues for fifteen minutes?

"What the hell would you know?! You're just as weak and pathetic as he is!"

She took a step back, her eyes lacking their usual warmth. "Maybe I am," her voice was soft, but with a slight edge to it. Her expression was deadly calm. It gave her a sick satisfying to see his eyes widen if only a fraction. "But I'd rather be like him," she pointed her finger at the greenette watching them in confusion. "Than like you," she shoved that same finger into his firm chest. "Any day. Putting others down to make yourself feel better..."

Her father came to mind, then Enji; images of the two men looming behind the young blonde.

"That is pathetic."

The blonde's fists clenched at his sides. Sana turned on her heel, her pastel hair almost smacking him in the face had he not jerked his head back. Stupid girl, he growled internally, stomping into the building to hide the weapon and start the exercise. Siding with that shitty nerd. I'll show everyone who's really pathetic.

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #katsuki bakugou #bakusqaud #katsuki bakugo x reader #kirishima eijirou #mina ashido #bakugo katuski #bnha fluff #bnha angst #shouto todoroki #bnha shoto todoroki

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letters-from-dekarios · 5 months

Note

{written on pub stationary, stained with aclohol. The hand writing is messy, obviously written in a less than sober state. The paper is creased and crumpled, as though it’s original destination was to be the trash bin. Multiple words are misspelled or crudely scribbled out.}

Dear Dekarriose Dekarios,

I guess youre actual title now is the Wizard of Waterdeep, it may be inappropriate to still simply call you ‘Dekarios’ or ‘Gale’. I still will, change all you want, detest me all you want for it, I cannot change that image I still have of you from our youths.

A cocky bastard smug young man who probably had a good reason for being smug. A learned young wizard who, despite his inherent talents, buried his nose in a million books a second to learn more. I hated you for it back then. I think I hate you for it now.

I don’t know. I’ve never understood it. I never figured out how you could be more with so much inherent magical talent, but not enough to make you a sorcerer. I never understood how you could be more in control of your magic than a sorcerer. I never understood how we could be the same age, and yet when I first started my academic career at Blackstaff you were already finishing yours. I admired you for it, I hated you for it.

I thought you hated me too.

Not hate, that’s not right. I thought you abdhorred disliked me. I thought in some way, it was okay, we were rivals. We had our fun, I cursed you a few times (if you never knew that was me doing it. Sorry.), you explained every spell you knew in such detail I assumed you were being condescending on purpose. I casted spells with ease without trying but I could never learn a new spell. You learned a million new spells but took great effort in casting them. I hated you for your succeeding where I failed. I thought you felt the same.

I question that recently. I have people who hate me now. It’s not the same. If you did hate me, I guess I liked the way you hated me, it was more fun than how I’m hated now. But did you hate me? Were you being condescending, or did you just like to talk about things you found interesting? Do you even remember a word I’m writing down? Do you remember me? I can’t bame blame you if you don’t. It’s been so many years, even I only remember once I’ve reached the bottom of a bottle, but I remember a lot.

I’m reaching the end of the page. I feel I’ve written a lot about nothing, so I guess it’s time I cut to the chase. I do miss our rivalry, our misadventures, our friendship, whatever you’d call it. I miss Gale Dekarios, the smug little bastard that once tried to tutor me. I miss you.

I wish you the best,

Irisa

-~•~-

{set before the events of the game, written by my tiefling Tav, Irisa, a wild magic sorceress who briefly did not know she was a sorceress, thus she briefly tried to learn Wizardry at Blackstaff. It did not go well. In her time there she had a rivalrous relationship with Gale, because the two of them were young and immature, and eventually she was expelled from the academy. Years down the line her life is not great, she’s drunk a lot, misses petty arguments with our favorite wizard, reflects on their time together, and wrote this letter and sent it out when drunk and probably forgot all about it come morning.}

Dearest Irisa,

Your letter, though quite barely decipherable, comes as a bit of a shock for me. I did not expect to receive word from you after so many years, and though I can tell you’re not doing exactly the greatest at the time of writing, I hope you’re well otherwise.

It may shock you to know that, despite how many years it’s been, I do remember you. For all it’s worth, I remember the rivalry between us. Who puts a Wizard and a Sorcerer in the same fold? I’ll never understand how that came to be, but it was an enjoyable few years with you there.

I do get that a lot, the admiration and the hatred all mixed in one. It may do well to understand that I am, or, rather, was one of Mystra’s chosen. Though my abilities as a child were to be challenged, it was all because of her. It’s not every day you have an eight-year-old human practicing magic, and Mystra knew that of me. She’s the only reason why I had such control and understanding, though it helped being quite studious.

Despite it all, I can say I never did hate you. You pushed me to countless new limits, helped me see my oddities and how to work through them, and showed me the intensity of magic on a grander scale than reading books ever could. You brought out the best in me, regardless of our differences.

While I didn’t hate you, I can confidently say I did envy your ease in casting spells. If only I could whisk a spell together that easily! Concentration gets the best of me nowadays, perhaps I should have practiced more of that while at the Academy.

I do sincerely apologize for any condescension you may have felt. I tend to do that at times apparently! It was a genuine interest on my part to have someone who shared a similar understanding with me, and I wanted to tell you of all the worlds we could both accomplish. My mother has quipped it as “Galesplaining”, whatever she intends that to mean.

I remember you completely. All the glory, the joy, the hurt, the failure. It’s ingrained in my mind and I doubt I can ever sand it away. I wouldn’t want to, either. You made my time at the Academy more enjoyable than it had been for years. You changed me, in some of the best ways imaginable.

I can’t deny finding myself at the bottom of a bottle stirring over the past, much like yourself, wondering what I could have changed or done differently. Maybe we could’ve stayed friends, that’s a nice alternate reality to think of.

I miss you, too, Irisa, even if you were the cause of all my misdemeanors and failures when my day started on the wrong foot. I have to know, were you the one who caused my portal home to get so out of shape?

When you’re sober, I implore you to visit my tower in Waterdeep. I’d like to catch up with you, it’s been far too long since we’ve spoken.

From the desk of,

𝑮𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒌𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒔

And, for reference, I sort of liked the way you hated me, too.

text reads: gale dekarios

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dancinglikebutterflywings · 1 month

Text

500 Followers = 500 Words: Huening Kai

-> Pairing: Huening Kai x Reader

-> Requested by: Anon

-> Prompt: Prompt 30 - Asking to fake date reveals real feelings.

-> Warnings: friends to lovers. mentions of petty school rivalry.

-> Word Count: 587

-> Request: Closed.

500 followers = 500 words Masterlist | Main Masterlist

"I need you to be my boyfriend," Y/N says as she takes a seat across from Kai, her best friend since training days.

He looks up from his phone, his eyes wide with surprise, trying to process her words. “M... Me?” he stammers. "You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend?" he clarifies, making sure he’s not imagining things. When she nods at him with a hopeful expression, he asks, "W... why me?"

“It’ll be more believable,” she replies. “It’s just for tonight,” she assures him before going on to explain what happened, "I ran into that girl from high school—the one I mentioned before. She thinks life is a competition. So, she was going on and on about how amazing her life is. She fell for some guy from some wealthy family, they recently got married, and they’ve just returned from Paris with a trip to Australia coming up," she says, scrunching her face in distaste. It wasn’t that she disliked her rival’s life; it was the way she bragged about it that bothered her.

“I’m sure her parents are proud,” Kai comments as Y/N pauses to catch her breath. Being the supportive friend he is, he lets her vent about the whole situation.

"And then she made a comment about me being single and how sad that must be for my parents!" she exclaims, her voice rising in frustration. "I don’t know what got into me, but I blurted out, ‘Who said I’m single?’ then I started talking about you like you’re my boyfriend and suggested the four of us have a double date tonight," she sighs, resting her arms on the table and dropping her head on her arms, her next words muffled by the sleeve of her top. "Of course, she agreed to it. She even offered to pay.”

“I won’t say no to a free meal,” he says more to himself as he continues to listen.

“I’m such an idiot! Like she’d actually believe I’m dating you. I don’t know why I thought it would be more believable. You’re way out of my league. She’ll see right through it."

"Well, who says we have to pretend?" He speaks.

Y/N's head snaps up, her eyes wide with disbelief. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, why can't we make it real?" He shrugs, trying to sound casual, but inside, his heart races at the thought of being more than just friends with her. It was a few years into their friendship that he realized he felt something more for her. "That way we won't have to pretend," he continues and then quickly adds, "But only if you want too. I don't want to pressure you if you don't feel the same."

"What do you feel?" She asks him, a hopeful gleam in her eyes. She needed to hear him say it.

He takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of her question settle between them. "I feel... I feel like there's something more than friendship between us," he begins to tell her. “I feel like I love you.”

“I feel that too,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper, but it’s enough to send a rush of warmth through him. “So, what do we do now?” she asks as he takes one of her hands in his own and holds it.

“I won’t have to be your pretend boyfriend tonight, if you’ll have me as your real boyfriend,” he says with a hopeful smile.

She nods, also smiling, “Let’s not pretend.”

@staytiny2000 - @hollxe1 - @laylasbunbunny - @everythingboutkpop - @oddracha

@rainydayteacups - @http-gyu - @skittyneos - @deltamoon666 - @katsukis1wife -

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starpirateee · 6 months

Note

Drabble request (there are two because theyre extremely similar so pick whichever you fancy, i just need more Clivesdale content lmao)

Either:

The Nerdy Prudes decide to go on a daytrip to Clivesdale to try to vandalise the cherry festival, but a musical apocalypse causes them to rase the nantucket bridge, stranding them there

Or:

The Nerdy Prudes go undercover in Clivesdale’s High School to try to screw over the Chemists so they can win the big game

I love your writing, cant wait to see what you do with this :D

First of all, thank you! That means a lot! Second of all: Clivesdale prompt???? Hello???

The leaves were starting to fall, and the last breaths of summer were hanging in the air. Hatchetfield's honey festival was right around the corner, but that wasn't what was on Ruth's mind. She proposed to the others a huge, very ambitious plan to spend the last few days of summer… Somewhere else. for her, this was a really interesting idea, but of course, she couldn't do it without the help of her friends.

"Are you crazy?" Richie asked, as if he hadn't heard her correctly and needed clarification that he was, in fact, hearing the plan right. "You want us to take the week in Clivesdale?"

"Just the weekend!" Ruth clarified, a bright yet oblivious grin on her face. They all saw the honey festival year after year, and she was looking for something slightly different. She'd heard people complaining about Clivesdale's cherry festival for a while now, and yet she'd never been to explore the place herself. There was that insatiable part of her mind that really wanted to find out whether it was really as stupid as her friends and neighbours let on. "We'll go to the cherry festival, and see what's going on! And… Well, while we're there, we might as well show em just how much nobody wants to go to their stupid cherry festival…"

"Are you suggesting we sabotage the festival?" Pete raised an eyebrow, sceptical of their abilities as three people who had barely scraped sixteen. Ruth gave him an eager nod and his brow furrowed. "How the hell are we gonna do that? We're kids!"

"I dunno! But we aren't gonna be able to figure it out till we go over there and see what we're messing with! Then after that… Well, we'll see, won't we!"

She was so confident in this idea of hers that it was almost compelling.

"You really think it's that easy?"

"Sure! How bad can it be?"

That was the thing abouot Ruth. She was really convincing when she wanted to be. Once she'd tided them over, it was enough of an argument just to see what the hell everyone hated so much. None of them had ever so much as been to Clivesdale, so really, it was a matter of seeing what all the fuss was about.

While the final preparations were being made for the honey festival, and while the women of the town were signing themselves up for the honey queen pageant, three teenagers crossed the Nantucket bridge and headed for Clivesdale. None of them knew what they were setting themselves up for here, but if all went according to plan, then they would manage to successfully sabotage the cherry festival and then return home before anyone was the wiser.

That was the plan, anyway, and Richie and Pete had been so won over by Ruth's blatant confidence that they'd agreed without thinking about what it was going to entail, and how the people of Clivesdale would see them. Maybe they would be seen in the same vein that they would be seen if they came to Hatchetfield. Maybe it would be obvious that they were from out of town, and they would be driven back before anything happened. Once a nighthawk, always a nighthawk, after all…

Pete wondered whether the cherry festival was the same as the honey festival. That perhaps there was a chance that this rivalry was no more than a petty squabble between towns, and in fact, they were remarkably similar. He imagined one of those stages people set out in the middle of fields, filled with live music and speakers large enough that you could hear what was going on from miles away. He imagined stalls filled with baked goods, as many different shades of red as could be thought of… Hell, maybe people actually put heart into this festival thing.

Richie thought about how weird it would be to set foot in a different place. He'd heard things about Clivesdale, for sure… Everyone had, that was the standard for rumour being spread around Hatchetfield High. All the footballers talked about what happened when they went there, and how fucked up Clivesdale was as a place. They all talked so passionately, but Richie was willing to bet that Clivesdale didn't have people disappearing on the regular, or strange ghost stories that only seemed to take place on the far east of the town or in the woods.

For Ruth, this was a chance at seeing something new. There was still a huge part of her that wanted to travel with a theatre company, going all over the country and maybe even the world someday… That was her dream, elaborate as it was, and this was a good start. She wasn't privy to a lot of the comversations that happened in the football locker room, and Richie didn't often talk about it, so she didn't really know why the Nighthawks talked so much shit about the Chemists… That was one huge mystery that she couldn't wait to unravel, and getting to see the cherry festival firsthand would be a bonus too, there was never anything wrong with cherries, after all.

While they walked across the bridge, they talked about these possibilities, as well as the strange happenings of the night before.

"My brother said he drove home in some freak storm last night… Full thunder and lightning…" Pete hummed. "Lotta people said the same thing, apparently."

"Oh yeah, I heard the thunder for a while…" Richie shivered at the thought of it, drawing himself in a little closer. "Nobody saw it coming either, the weather reports apparently said it was gonna be clear all night."

"Really? Huh…."

"That's not the best part about the storm, you guys!" Ruth interjected, to which Richie hummed.

"Oh, you're talking about the meteor, right? The one that crashed through the Starlight?"

"Course I am! What're the chances of a meteor's crash course being that precise that it manages to land right in the middle of the stage?"

"How d'you know it landed in the middle of the stage?" Pete asked, raising an eyebrow. He'd heard reports of this meteor, as had everyone, but there was nothing on the news that suggested that people had known where it landed. "Wait, Ruth.. Did you go check on the meteor? Have you been to see it?"

"Sure i have! Heard it crashed through the theatre and I wanted to take a look!" Ruth answered like it was obvious, shooting Pete a pointed glance. "It was huge, broke the stage floor and messed up the first few rows of seats! I mean, I'm not entirely sure I should've been there, but… Y'know, it was cool!"

"You weren't worried at all about being caught?"

"Uh… No, nobody else was daring to go in there…"

On one hand, it was a good thing when Ruth had a brave streak. Her anxiety meant that often, that just didn't exist as an option for her, so when she was flooded with adrenaline and decided to make a rash decision or two, it was always a show of her combatting the worst of her thoughts. On the other, she was impulsive, and whichever decisions those tended to be were often not the type to be thought of as admirable. She had no fear, only a crippling nervousness that came before.

But, nonetheless, she had seen the meteor. And that was, undeniably, quite cool. "Well, did you get a picture of it?"

"I'll let you see when we make it to Clivesdale!"

Most of the traffic on the Nantucket tended to head one way, out of Hatchetfield. They were following much the same path, leading themselves away from their home town and out into the wider unknown. They kneew they were nearing Clivesdale when they started seeing posters and banners, decorated in a red overlay, and dotted with the world's most generic images of cherries. Both festivals tended to run in tandem, and that had started when Clivesdale picked up on the popularity of the honey festival and fancied making one of their own.

Of course, it felt all wrong. First of all, it was three weeks before the honey festival, and nobody could figure out why that was the case. Second, it seemed like a place that was way too busy, way too disorganised. Pete knew he wasn't a fan of such chaos, though he'd never quite seen the extent to which the cherry festival fell into their disorganised mess. It genuinely didn't seem like thhey knew order, that they were able to lay their stalls out in the most haphazard way possible and call it a day.

Once they were certain they'd arrived in the town, the three of them took a seat on a bench and the boys eagerly watched Ruth pull out her phone and try and locate the picture of the meteor. What she showed them was a rather bland looking rock, which would've been completely so if not for the fact that it was pretty much the size of the stage itself, and oozing some kind of strange, blue substance from the most visible crater. Richie gasped when he saw it, and leaned in as close as he could to get a better look at it.

"Good god, that's bigger than I thought! You sure that didn't hit anyone?"

"If it did, I don't think they'd know, they'd be pretty much crushed underneath, wouldn't they?"

"What if it was like the Wizard of Oz?"

"You mean… We could still see their legs enough to take off their ruby slippers? I don't think so…" Pete hummed. "A meteor of that size is gonna be hard to even try and get away from."

"You never know… Maybe they were at an unfortunate angle," Ruth returned, with twice the gusto that Pete had given his entire statement in. "But no, there was nobody there. Not that I could see, anyway."

"That's kinda cool, Richie's right… But a hell of a lot of a bill to rebuild the place once they get rid of it, huh?"

"Oh yeah, it's gonna be out of commission for months now!"

Weren't they saying something about a busy season not too long ago? Richie thought about what would happen to the shows now they didn't exactly have a theatre to perform them in. There were always other places they could rent out, but god only knows the theatre department in Hatchetfield didn't get the funding enough as it was. They wouldn't be able to just rent out some other place, not even for a few days!

"So, what's the plan here? Or did you really just wanna take a trip into Clivesdale..?"

"Well, kinda, yeah. But I guess it hasn't really changed since the last time I tried to pitch it. We're gonna go in there and see what this cherry festival is all about, then maybe we'll make a few attempts to sabotage it, just to really get things going. But, we can't make it really obvious, y'know?"

That afternoon, the three of them spent the time scoping out the slowly assembling stalls and see what the deal was with this cherry festival. There were all sorts of vendors, selling all kinds that managed to take them by surprise. Richie found an old man selling nothing but crystals in more forms than he had ever thought to use crystals for. Pete spent a while looking at a bunch of old books that the couple selling them had repurposed into keepsake boxes. Ruth was originally drawn in by the smell of fresk baking, but was taken by this stand that had a large barrel of wrapped gifts in various sizes, evidently some kind of luck game with fake gifts and real ones.

This to say, it looked like fun, and by the time the evening came, the three of them had reconvened with a plan. For a while, they were just gonna try and fit in together. Clearly, they got visitors from all throughout the neighbouring towns for this festival, and they were going to be just like those visitors. They would blend in as best as they could, try their hand at a few of the stalls and peruse the various wares… And then they would strike. Richie had pitched an elaborate plan that involved pretending to be involved with the backstage acts, and then cutting off the audio signal to the stage. Originally, this planhad been a little more complicated, but Pete made him promise he wouldn't actively mess with the soundboard.

The last of the daylight hours wound out, and the festival became more of a festival. People began arriving en masse, and soon the stalls were bustling with various different crowds, all looking for something different. Ruth gave the signal when the coast was clear, and the three of them started pushing through the crowd to check out the main stage. According to the poster on one of the streetlights, there were going to be three acts on one after the other in quick succession. If they couldn't figure out their issue with the sound, then none of them were going to be heard properly when the time came to perform.

"Did you hear what was happening in Hatchetfield?"

"Mhm, that meteor is causing a hell of a lot of damage, and I heard there was some kinda ruptured gas line?"

"That'd be the one. It's killing people off, apparently."

The three of them didn't make it to the stage. When they passed the open bar, they overheard a conversation that sent them into a vague panic. When someone mentioned that people were dying, it sent a violent shiver down Pete's spine. To think, whatever it was could've affected them too, if they were still there. They had chosen the right day to leave town, that was for sure. But, there was the hope that the people were just being dramatic, and that people weren't actually dying in Hatchetfield as soon as the three of them had left.

"What the fuck was that?" Richie whispered hurriedly, as the three of them tried to force their way through the crowd towards somewhere more private. Once they were alone, they silently decided that the best course of action was to go back to Hatchetfield, and try and explain the situation for themselves. They refused to believe that so much could happen in the space of only a few hours, especially since they had left close to noon, and nothing seemed to be happening then…

"I dunno, something about a gas leak?" Pete bit his lip. "Do you really believe that?"

"Nah, I'm not buying it." Ruth's voice was decidedly stern. She was trying to force herself to believe that it couldn't be the case that everyone was dying in Hatchetfield. "This is Clivesdale, how do we know they aren't just a bunch of dirty fuckin' liars?"

"If they were lying, they'd be saying something like 'everyone in Hatchetfield is dying from some musical apocalypse that's infecting them like a plague'… Gas line sounds too plausible, especially since we don't know what that goddamn meteor hit…"

"A musical apocalypse?"

Pete threw up his hands. "I dunno! something like that, something that'd obviously be a lie! Y'know, I don't think they're just lying for the sake of trying to poke fun at us in Hatchetfield… I think something might be happening."

They wandered away from the festival, against the grain of the crowd. If there truly was nothing to worry about, then this was a weekend-long event, they could always come back and enact their plan on the stage at a later date. Not a word was spoken between them on the way beck to the bridge, and when they saw what they did, all of them froze at once.

Someone- some raging idiot- had raised the Nantucket bridge. Hatchetfield was completely sealed off from the rest of the world. If something was happening, then they would just be left to die out there, and nobody would be the wiser. Hatchetfield was a tiny island, a small town where near enough everyone knew everyone else. In a community that tight knit, something was bound to go wrong, and then what? When more communities banded together, more of them would die.

"Oh fuck."

"Jesus Christ."

"What are we supposed to do now?"

Three teenagers were stranded in Clivesdale, of all places. And none of them had the energy to try their hand at their sabotage plan, not when they didn't know what was going on in their town and there was no way of finding out. By the end of the day, the three of them were the only ones who hadn't been near an infected person in the slightest. If he knew what was actually happening on the island, Pete would have known that he was near enough spot on with his bullshit claim.

By the stroke of midnight, once the three of them had pooled whatever money they had and found some hotel room for the night, there were only five survivors left of the Hatchetfield tragedy. The three of them, a woman by the name of Emma Perkins, and one pocket sized squirrel that the military found buried in the chest of a local woodworker.

Once the bridge was lowered and they found someone who gave them answers, going back to Hatchetfield didn't seem like something they wanted to do. It had been completely wiped off the map, and there was no point in going back if there was nothing to go back to in the first place.

#starkid #peter spankoffski #richie lipschitz #ruth fleming #nerdy prudes must die #void offering #star mail #nova's tags →#fucking.... clivesdale 😒#nah fr this is an interesting request #an interesting pair of requests actually! thank you so much for these!#huh? what do you mean pete got infected in tgwdlm?#shhhhh #shhhhhhhh #no he didn't. not here. i'm not seeing any infection

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