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8mitsurikanroji8 · 10 months

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𝒦𝓃𝓎 𝒞𝓇𝓊𝓈𝒽 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈

ɪɴꜰᴏ : ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɴʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼

𝘛𝘢𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘳𝘰. 𝘡𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘶. 𝘐𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘶𝘬𝘦. 𝘔𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘰 . 𝘚𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪 . 𝘖𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘪 . 𝘎𝘪𝘺𝘶 . 𝘒𝘺𝘰𝘫𝘶𝘳𝘰 . 𝘔𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘪. 𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘣𝘶.

────────────────────────

𝐓𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 ⋆˙⟡♡

. Not obvious at all ?

. He’s a sweatheart to everyone he meets ahem Tanjiro effect?

. Blushes whenever you get close ><

. Would offer moments with you

. “Y/n want to eat together ?” “Y/n want to train together?” “Y/n want to take a stroll” etc

. You think nothing of it but for him his heart beats fast and is comforted by these actions

. Doesn’t realize he has a crush on you

. Just thinks you have an amazing personality that draws him in

. It’s just that, right ?

. He finally gets the hint when you guys were alone on a stroll catching the sunset. He caught himself staring at you while smiling as you stood and watched the sun fall, painting the sky orange

. His face goes RED when he realizes ><

. He turns away trying to calm himself down

. You notice, concerned, you take your hand and put it on his face thinking he has a fever

. Faces is literally fire

. Other than that you don’t really realize his feelings for you as he seems to be the same. Only asking for more time with you and more blushing but your mind waves it off

. Little do you know he stares at you while your mind is adrift thinking

. His heart beats fast and his eyes soften

. Yep. He likes you.

𝐙𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮 ⋆˙⟡♡

. Now this one you KNOW [ Sorta ]

. I mean he ask you to marry him only 2 minutes in meeting for the first time

. “YOURE THE PRETTIEST GIRL I HAVE EVER MET. PLEASE MARRY ME!”

. You are dumbfounded with his open admiration

. A little flatter? Yes. Caught off guard ? 100%

. Soon within getting to know him you learn of his lovely dovey personality

. Realizing he is like this with every girl you push aside his comments of marriage and admiration

. I mean he would say that to any one, right ?

. Wrong [ also right tho >< ]

. He would say this to almost every girl he’s met

. But after you ? Oh honey

. You don’t realize how he’s actually fallen for you. Deeply

. Follows you around like a duck

. Someone criticize you [ Even if it’s just critiquing so you know what to work on ]

. That person will not hear the end of it

. “Y/N IS THE BEST PERSON EVER AND IS THE GREATEST DEMON SLAYER SO YOU SHUT UP!”

. Cringey ? Mhm. Cute ? A little.

. If you use sweet words to him [ You mostly say them to everyone tho ] like “honey” “sweetie” “cutie” “sweetheart”

. What color do you want your wedding bouquet?

. He’s planning it all

𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞 ⋆˙⟡♡

. You don’t know and neither does he ._.

.”FIGHT ME RIGHT NOW. LETS SEE WHO WINS!”

. That’s something you will never hear the end of

. He has no idea about what a crush is nor love

. He just thinks you’re a good fighter and wants to fight you whenever he can

. And you just think he’s being his normal weird self :)

. You don’t mind it [ usually ]

. He likes to eat with you

. If you both are heading to a mission and forget to pack yourself food

. He will eat his infront of you and say

. “HAHA IDIOT”

. You roll your eyes ignoring him

. Suddenly his food is being shoved down your throat no comment added

. You better not ask about it

. Your ears won’t be able to handle anymore of his yelling blabber

. But you take his action to heart and enjoy it

. His face is a bit pink

. BUT only because his boar head is warm, right ?

. Sureeee ._.

𝐌𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨 ⋆˙⟡♡

. Who are you again ?

. Oh right. The one who gives him the hebegebees

. Jkjkjk

. well

. He’s too lost in the clouds to realize his feelings for you or even realize you’re the only one who’s company doesn’t annoy him or pushes away

. And you don’t realize because his vocabulary is just so grand

. “Mhm” “No” “Yes “I believe so” “What did you say?” “I assume” “Could be” “I have no opinion”

. You tag along him to the point where others know

. “Oh there’s Muichiro. Y/n must be near”

. And vice versa

. He doesn’t realize how close together you guys alway are

. When you’re away on a mission he finds himself with a unfamiliar feelings

. Oh you’re back! Never mind the feeling is gone nothing to worry about !

. You just like his character and enjoy spending time with him

. He won’t realize but he thinks the same

. And more ><

. Both of these are unaware to you and him

𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢 ⋆˙⟡♡

. Oh boy

. You may be strong both physically and mentally

. You’re enduring both his need to constantly train and his vicious tongue

. You most likely match his adittuide

. Oh he’s got something to say? So do you

. Everyone believes he HATES you

. I mean he does insult you and always wants to fight

. Poor guy doesn’t know what it is he’s feeling

. He didn’t really see romantic love in his childhood

. So he just stuffs those fast heart beat, pink cheeks and fuzzy feeling deep down and try’s to ignore it

. He doesn’t realize but one of the reason he always want to spear with you is because you guys spend close time together

. Also because he’s Sanemi

. And you being you, you don’t mind and take it as another challenge to conquer

𝐎𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐢 ⋆˙⟡♡

. You talk and he doesn’t

. Perfect match <3

. Here goes another damage one !

. His love language is definitely quality time

. You’re eating ? Under [ or up ] a tree? Simply walking around the garden ?

. Oh look there he is too!

. He definitely catches on to his physical and emotional reactions to you

. And you just thinks you guys are the closets of friends !

. You guys always seem to travel together

. Even in your free time you are found with him strolling around a village together

. Some one insults you?

. You’ll just ignore it and move on

. He doesn’t. Pray for that person.

. Kaburamaru seems to have also found a fondness for you

. He may be jealous of that fact

𝐆𝐢𝐲𝐮 ⋆˙⟡♡

. You don’t know what the others are talking about

. Giyu is lovely to talk to !

. He may be one of your favorite hasira to spend time with ♡

. He’s gentle and kind spoken [ with his little use of words ]

. He pays for your meals no matter how hard you insist and listen to you ramble for hours on end with no sign of annoyence

. Why would the others hate him?

. He’s like this with everyone, right ?

. Oh honey.

. You take these actions as part of his character, while he assume he act this way because of his admiration for you being so nice to him !

. I mean you are one of the few who do talk to him without insult

. It never clicks for him what the feeling really is

. That’s until one day

. [ Shinobu ] “Good evening Tomioka”

. [ Giyu ] “Evening Shinobu”

. [ Shinobu ] “You look as bland and boring as ever. How are you”

. [ Giyu ] *no answer*

. [ Shinobu ] “I must say without your little friend you somehow appear more dull. It is odd to catch a moment with you two apart”

. [ Giyu ] *nothing*

. [ Shinobu ] *Giggles* “It’s almost like you two are in a romantic relationship with how close you are.”

. His heart stops with that comment

. And his brain finally realize the feeling

. I mean he’s never felt this way before ♡

. His eyes trail off and soften, catching Shinobu attention

. [ Shinobu ] *Giggles* “ I was only just kidding. It’s not like someone like Y/n could admire your dull personality”

. Oh. Right.

𝐊𝐲𝐨𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐨 ⋆˙⟡♡

. “YOU ARE ONE SKILLED SLAYER” “I ADMIRE YOUR TECHNIQUES” “GREAT JOB” “YOU HAVE INCREDIBLE SKILLS” “WONDERFUL WORK”

. He praises you non stop

. I mean who wouldn’t with your talent !

. You take his compliments as a part of his cheerful personality and respect it

. And maybe take a bit of flattery with it ><

. He does too

. He just admires you skill is all

…….

. He offers to dine with you or take you out to eat

. “Y/N WOULD YOU LIKE TO SPEND TIME AND DINE WITH ME!?”

. [ You ] “Oh um, sure okay!”

. “SPLENDID, LETS GET ON OUR WAY!”

. He always ask where you are

. Remembers the small things

. You like that color ? Oh look he just bought you a keychain with it. That’s your favorite food? Guess that’s where you guys are eating tonight

. His acts of romantic feelings fly over both of your guys head

. But not to anybody else

. *Kyojuro and you side by side laughing together*

. [ Slayer 1 ] “Are they together?”

. [ Slayer 2 ] “isn’t it obvious ?”

𝐌𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐢 ⋆˙⟡♡

. You guys are actually inspectable

. Always together <3

. She loves your company !

. Mitsuri finds everything about you adorable

. From they way you eat to your fighting techniques

. You make her feel safe ♡

. More touchy with you than others [ expect hugs, face pokes and hand holding when she’s around ]

. She definitely realizes her feelings for you

. She is the love hashira after all

. But she doesn’t act on it afraid you won’t feel the same and forever ruin the relationship you guys already have

. She’s oblivious to the shared love you have for one another

. *Mitsuri thoughts* Oh they just see me as a friend

. Mhm okay ._.

𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐮 ⋆˙⟡♡

. This one is a slow burn

. Every mission with you she seems to oddly enjoy

. Whenever you walk into her estate she feels a warmth

. Her heart flutters whenever you hug her or compliment her

. Your smile makes her smile

. She always watches you [ not in a creepy way >< ]

. She just finds herself drunk on the way your eyes light up

. Once it hits her why she feel this way poor girl try’s to ignore it

. Afraid to allow herself to get too close in this field of work

. But the heart wants what is wants ♡

. You begin to dine after missions together

. Have light conversation when running into each other

. And occasionally meet ups outside of work

. She compliments you often

. Once you start to spend more time together she will accidentally graze her hand over you thigh or your fingers just to see you reaction

. This girl knows what she’s doing

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A/n

ᴀʜʜ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰɪɴɪꜱʜᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ ! ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ !! ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ꜰʀᴇᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱʜᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴘɪɴɪᴏɴ. ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇꜱꜱᴀɢᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ <3 ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴄᴀʀᴇ 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

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adoregojo · 2 months

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mikage's 5 steps guide! - nagi.s

i missed writing for nagi... my loverboy.. also this writing style is so fun??? wth??? i need to write like this again. i can barely keep one eye open so if there's any typo, ignore pls pls.

warnings: some cussing ig?

nagi was never that charming.

'charming' couldn't even stand being a word in his dictionary to be honest, nagi truly had zero sense of romance within him. he was an actual brick-walled person when it came to these things, or anything of strong-emotions in particular, there was no thoughts behind those void eyes of his but a circle of: sleep, eat, go to work, eat again, play games, sleep, and repeat.

even back to his high school years, not once he recalls talking to a girl, let alone getting a girlfriend, that was something beyond out of his character. maybe there was a girl that confessed to him, he remembered on valentines day he got a letter saying that he should go to the school's roof. and he ended up leaving the poor girl hanging on the air till the sky was clean orange because he genuinely 'forgot', nagi then earned the title 'heartbreaker' for a year straight, he let it be since it was much of a hassle to keep on correcting them. not like his reputation was any better before.

so you could say that nagi wasn't that much of a company to have around, on the other hand was his friend, reo who was basically the opposite of nagi, if anything he was prince charming himself. those social skills were enough to befriend anyone on sight, he got the looks, money and attention was surrounding him 24/7.

and even if reo gather the earth power to try and motivate nagi would go down hill, every time he tried setting him on a date it's either gonna end up horrible or nagi using the excuse to go to the bathroom and vanish to the nowhere. what an asshole.

at some point, reo accept the fact that maybe he's friend will in fact die alone.

and things switched around when you came to the picture.

first it wasn't that hard to notice you, your desk was glued to him after all. it was weird when you would greet him every morning and wish him a good night when you left, no one ever did that to him before, he tends to ignore and ends up being ignored. it was nice, a little reminder that somone was seeing him, acknowledging him.

slowly, the walls between you two was falling apart with each introduction. when you would pat him from his little naps for lunch time, or when it was leaving time, then he would stare at your back until your figure disappeared with a last wave, staring at the door for a little too long, perhaps wishing for you to walk back in.. who said that?

it was getting worse, or better, not the best at analysing his feelings. but nagi found himself looking out for a glimpse of you around the office, he has no shame to admit that the world suddenly felt gloomy without your presence beside him.

maybe he raised his head a little too fast when you walked in, maybe not. but he mostly did.

then you would ramble about how your shitty neighbour refused to clean after his pets filth and you two had a screaming match for a while before realising you were late. the was the worst way to start a monday morning, so you closed your eyes shut, rubbed your forehead for a peace of mind. then you opened your eyes, a piece of your favourite snaked would magically appear on your table.

for some reason your eyes traveled to the white painted head, he was looking at the other side, avoiding your questionable gaze hoovering over him.

Mondays aren't so bad after all, you thought.

perhaps he did place it there, who knows. —but nagi just really didn't like seeing you glum.

possibly, did he grew fond of you? he doesn't know. all he knew that lunch box you handed him the next day is a blessed gift within his palms. too good for him, you were too good for him.

you were the prove that the sky itself favoured him above anyone.

and when nagi wanted to ask you out, he only had one person to guide him to your heart.

so the very mysterious person behind the scene (reo) had a astounding idea that if someone like nagi; mister, game-addiction-freak. that on every step he'll get points! 100-90 if he did well, 80-70 not bad, 60-40 could've been worse.. 40-20 definitely could've been better... 20-0 yikes....

so with that, nagi was sent on a personal mission to win you over and soothe you with his nonexistent charm.

STEP ONE: be straightforward! it's not good to keep on dancing on someone's mindset with hints, it may cause a lot of confusion feelings and misunderstandings! only ask under a certain circumstances, a suitable place where were you two sit alone so they could have they're attention on you only. SIDE NOTE: try to make a good welcoming conversation to ease up the tension first then ask!

so nagi did just that, maybe a little too well.

he couldn't even eat his own lunch and just kept on rubbing his sweaty hands against each other's, staring back forth —he just noticed how many unfamiliar faces were there? did he really only seeyou?一 he was extra quiet which made you ask him multiple times if he was okay, he would just hum in response. what a smooth talker.

"nagi, you haven't even touched your food. are you actually okay?" you questioned, concerned. after taking a brief sip of your juice, but nagi just shook his head in conform, you raised a brow, a little in disbelief that he would think an obvious lie would go through you just like that. there was something off. the tension upon you two was twisting.

the words were on the tip of his tongue, yet they felt un-removed. all this stressing over four words were a pain, and a heavy burden he needed to reales before he lose his breathing track.

and the moment you took a bite and chewing on it, he just had to drop the bomb carelessly.

"go out with me."

so nagi didn't try and sooth the air, nor start a decent conversation. and when he gathered the earth courage to speak up, it wasn't even a question, that was a whole ass demand.

although, it worked. but it definitely could've gone better than you choking on your own food that you swore you witnessed death himself laughing his ass off at you.

what a great timing.

after you saw the heavens gates open for you and life flashing through your eyes, weirdly enough, you accepted.

huh, maybe he didn't mess up everything like he thought (he in fact did).

20 points!

STEP TWO: dress nice and compliment their outfit! dressing well means that you take the date seriously, complimenting them to foster a better sense of comfort and confidence, and they'll compliment you back! extra points if you made them all blushy and giddy!

nagi really wasn't the best at this.

instead of dressing 'nicely', all he wore was a big white hoodie and pants. didn't put much effort to his hair and just went off. it wasn't his problem that picking an estimated outfit was such a hassle. it's good at least it is something that covers him, right?

it all went downhill when you showed up, listen. he always thought you looked fit and nice in your suit work, and now he definitely wasn't ready to see you in regular, uniform out of work place. you just looked... so good, even great, stunning and beautiful, you name it.

nagi barely breath out a greeting, his eyes too busy scanning you from head to toe over and over, he couldn't take his gaze out of your sight even when you were on your way to the table. and he almost stumbled over twice for that, the first was nearly his face planting on the floor, and the second time he almost knocked out a whole plate of drinks. you just somehow managed to muddle over half of senses with your looks alone, maybe he should've considered writing his last letter.

"nagi.. you're staring too much."

the of yours dragged him out of his thoughts line. he saw as you held a sheepish— extra points?—expression, it was either from his heart-eyes eating you alive, or the date itself was bringing you to the nervous state, or both?

nagi cleared his throat, slightly cringing at himself for staring a little too hard. he was absolutely not doing reo's steps justice.

"sorry. you just, look really pretty." if not the prettiest of all, but again, nagi has eyes for you only to pay a mind to others around him.

your breath halts at that, you don't know what to say for a second, nagi himself was complementing you? and the fact that he said as it was a matter of a fact was such an out character thing. but at the same time a an amiable change. and it was for you only.

"thank you, I appreciate that." you say as you kept on twirling your fingers over your hair, you felt like a lovesick teenager. "I think you look very nice as well." you add, almost like a whisper, he still managed to catch it.

nagi let out a scoff, not even a smile forming on his features for that. "it's just hoodie, really."

"i still like it, it's very like you. I'm happy seeing that you can be yourself around me."

he flinch a bit at that, he really wasn't ready for this- it takes a strong-soulful soldier to handle this. and he really, really wanted to be gods strongest warrior just for you. so he gets a grip on himself and mumble a thanks.

you smile sweetly at that, and nagi may really be not the strongest soldier under your spell.

50 points!

STEP THREE: make a conversation! show interest in their personal life and listen to every ramble they have, try to also throw side comments there and here to support them and blow away any negative feelings of the talk being one-sided. also try and talk about your own life to make it easier for them to talk all night. SIDE NOTE: try and joke around to bloom a friendly tune. extra points if you made them laugh!

third time's a charm, right?

however, since nagi was uncommonly unfond of others babbling. in fact he found it annoying and it was hard keeping his eyes evenly open. but then when it comes to you, he found your feathery tune to be airy, he grew ease to it pitch.

so he handed over all his senses of hearing to you on one knee, and let you speak freely. switching between different topics form nowhere, and like the world- his world- itself was turning for you only, his eyes and soul was for you to talk and he'll rot into a shallow void to your lovely enunciate to play on a broken radio repeating.

maybe he should tell you to stop, because your non-touched food was getting cold, and maybe he should tell that to himself that too because he didn't even realize his plate was even there.

it felt like he had drifted from the original plan, instead the tables were turned and he was the one being swoon by you..

not that he minded honestly. but ending the night with you being the one who filled the space was enough to create a makeshift reo berating him, nevertheless, nagi really, really wanted you to like him back. to consider the idea of another date with him.

plus, he also liked your laugh, he really did. didn't the guide say something about making you laugh? even tried telling a joke that you actually chuckled at, something that was unneeded to say that his book was empty, he had to search on google "funny jokes" for gods sakes, how hopeless can he possibly get?

"why couldn't the sunflower ride it bike?" nagi utter flatly, "why" you slope your head to the side. "because it lost it petals." the joke was old, dusty, forsaken. and the urge to recoil the second it left his mouth was understandable. but somehow you still pushed out a laugh at it, you don't know if it was an amusingly one, or because that nonchalant face was clearly begging you to laugh. with that monochromatic tone and all made it even funnier.

that bloomed the smallest amount of exhilaration within his rib cage. it was lovely, and what was made the giddiness to flourish inside his belly was the fact that he was the reason for it. it felt priceless. a sight to a crave in his midst. completely bizarrely about all of this, nagi let's you take over him. to consume him, his heart, his breath and soul were yours to claim.

at least he did something good that night?

70 points!

STEP FOUR: walk them back home! it's quite a simple act but very affected and gentlemanly, make sure to make them feel save and guarded! hidden notes: try to hold their hand!

after paying the price, you and nagi take your leave. with also nagi's off attitude with him opening the doors for you and let you walk first. although, who were to complain about such a treatment? you'll take it

but weirdly enough, nagi was a bit on the edge. like he had a n amount of ants in his pants, couldn't look at your direction, barely spoke out a response, or anything in general. and 一was he holding his breath???一

wait, was nagi actually.... nervous?

you glanced at him, shoulders stiffened, hands moving too much and fast, mouth was dry and agape, half dizzy 一when he isn't?一

now that you did not expect.

it was even ten times worse than him in the cafeteria earlier, it felt like nagi was about to confess to you his cruelest crime. the tenseness was mixed with the deep-seated tenderness, nevertheless, it was a bittersweet taste. and it kept on going until you two stood together by your home.

"i had fun tonight, nagi." you spoke first.

he finally flinched out of his own world, he sees you rubbing your arm, the gesture was sketchy, almost as if you were waiting for him to say something, anything.

but nagi's mind was blank, blow out an air in his ear and it will run out of the other, empty head. yet his mind was roaming, that need to say something clung up to him again. too many thoughts he cannot process.

but all nagi did know was he wanted you to stay a little longer.

"that's.. good?" he should have stayed quiet, what kind of answer is that.

you nodded awkwardly in agreement, breathing out an 'yeah..' he felt a bit guilty at making you feel uncomfortable, the fact of him being unfaithful may have crossed your mind, and nagi didn't like it. but you always managed to make feel weird, he always felt too warm when you would get close to him, words were lost when he would look at your eyes, and now this..

but despite everything, he felt like himself when he was with you the most..

every game had it secret move, and his was that he need to let himself be.

"can we do this again? i also had a good night." a part of nagi wanted to add that it was one of the best nights he ever had, yet it was too cheesy, cringe.

"yes!" you replied, too fast. you sounded so desperate! you palmed your mouth, embarrassment remains on your face as you cleared your throat. "i mean.. yes, we can do this again."

nagi had to physically bent down his head, he was gonna set you on fire alive with his eyes, if he may say, you looked cute when flustered. and his heart wouldn't stop beating so infuriated, almost bursting out raw of chest.

nagi for some reason, stretched out his arms. it was bold and he knew it, he just did it and hoped for you to handle it. "um.. can i?" he sees you halting at your place. eyes ogling around but his own.

you walk up all jittery to him until there's barely any inches left between the two of you, you kept your eyes glued to your feet as if it was the most interesting thing in this moment, but it's also like you were asking him if it was okay, unsureness. so he pushes your head gently forward to rest on his stiffen chest. an arm runs around your back to force you as close as possible to him.

you shrivel when nagi's nose would be buried deep unto your hair locks. your scent would draw him at slacken, his whole body bending against yours that you felt like he wanted to crawl under your skin desperately, searching for the seeds of endless love you endowed to him.

you didn't know if you were somehow intoxicated, but you swore that you felt a pair of soft lips pressing against your skull, god, you felt like melting and soon to become a paste sliding down between his fingers. you gently pushed yourself back, and perhaps you imagined nagi's whining for you to not let go. it's like you were gonna fly away once he unwrapped you free. the second you meet his face, a pout expression on his lips, and you couldn't help yourself from cupping his cheeks, squeezing them slightly. a smile made it way to your face as his eyebrows grew frowned.

nagi's hands were on yours, pulling them down from his face, but not too far. unabashedly keeping his eyes locked with yours, he was holding you tight and close, basically hostage. the bug-stomach is back at again but more fiercely than ever.

80 points!

FINAL STEP: kiss.

the dull hue travels down on your lips. boldly, he doesn't look away for what felt like eternity, if anything it seems like they grew heavy the second you parted them slightly to say something that sticked on your tongue.

"can i kiss you?"

was he trying to kill you?

you don't respond, instead you made a move to give him a quick peck on his cheek. backing off faster than ever. nagi stood still, rooting in his place, completely bamboozled. his mind stopped working and his eyes were drifting off in different directions.一is it normal that he felt like melting to the ground?一

"im so sorry, nagi- i just got really nervous and-"

"seishiro."

"eh?"

"seishiro, call me seishiro." he finally found a piece of mind to say. he didn't know if it came out as a command, but he sincerely wanted you to call him by his name. he'd die a happy man then.

"well.. goodnight, seishiro. can't wait for our next date," you said, weaving before your door. nagi barely being able to wave back, his mind was still half empty. you just made him see the light of the stars and left with with the sweetest, loveliest smile for him to think about for the next couple of weeks.

maybe he stood there for a little longer than he should have, his face was on fire, his heart on race track. antithesis of the nonchalant face he had, he made a move to rub the spot you pressed your soft lips against. and the first thing that came to his mind that it was definitely worth it.

and by now, he absolutely forgot about the points and the game itself. oh well, at least half of it worked. he just did it in his own version, which apparently was charming to you. nagi thinks if being charm to you, than he can come over anything.

limitless points! you have made your own path to the heart!

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishiro x you #nagi x you

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officialaemondtargaryen · 2 months

Text

A Fine Line [part 4]

Summary: You've been with Aegon for a little over four years and the relationship just isn't the same. His brother isn't helping the situation, either. This is a Modern Day AU!

Pairing: Aegon x Reader / Aemond x Reader

Word Count: ~7k (holy shit)

Author’s Note: I am so sorry that this took so long! I wanted to give a special thanks to @queen-helaena & @persephonerinyes for their feedback and direction on this chapter! Also, my personal Baela, @felteppsters for her daily duty of being my best friend. I will get the next chapter out as soon as I can, I promise it will be less than the six or so months it took me to write this bitch.

Warnings for the entire series: severe angst, cheating, unprotected sex, jealousy, lying, possessiveness, stalking, manipulation, language, alcohol use, recreational drug use.

Masterlist (it's been so long you might need a refresher)

Playlist here (be sad with me)

It was light out when you heard the front door open and close. A soft groan escaped your lips as you stretched; fatigue deep in your bones from a restless night. You quirked your brow as you glanced at the window. The remnants of a pink and purple sunrise were painted in the early Saturday morning sky.

His feet shuffled against the hardwood floor. Your eyes were fixed on the bedroom wall as you heard the door open. He was fully clothed when he fell into the bed next to you; still had his shoes on, even. The faint smell of clove cigarettes still lingered on his skin. A sigh escaped his lips as he nestled himself into the mattress as if everything were perfectly fine. You shot up quickly, turning to face him; your tongue burning with all of the words that you wanted to say to him, but you just couldn't bring yourself to actually speak them.

So you don't say anything.

You don't say anything as you sit cross-legged in the living room floor; folding his laundry as he sat on the couch eating the breakfast that you cooked, drinking the coffee that you made, laughing at whatever stupid TV show was on. You don't say anything as you stood next to him at the kitchen counter, fixing yourself a plate of dinner. You don't say anything as he crawled into bed with you that night and kissed you on the cheek.

No, instead you put it away. Just like everything else. And for the next three days you hardly say anything to each other, and if you did speak, it was 'dinner is ready' or the occasional 'have a good day'. You ate in separate rooms and he had started falling asleep in his office. It was the first time since you had started dating that the silence had become this loud. Sure, you hadn't had sex in almost a year, and more often than not he just felt like a roommate to you, but the silence had becoming deafening.

It was actually Aemond who had encouraged you to bite the bullet and be the first to say something. You'd been texting back and forth since the bowling alley. It was a weird feeling, teetering between guilt and giddiness, whenever you saw his name pop up on your screen. Nevertheless, you appreciated his company, even if it was just through text. It was more communication than you were getting from your own boyfriend and best friend; you'd never known Baela to be so busy, but every time you asked if she wanted to hang out or have a glass of wine over FaceTime, she was otherwise occupied.

Wednesday night, after you had put away the leftovers and finished the dishes, you had found yourself standing in the threshold of his office. It was a room you hardly visited and the art on the walls looked foreign to your eyes; almost making you feel awkward to stand in what felt like his space. You watched as he was reading his emails; quietly speaking to himself, saying all of the things he wished he could respond back with. He was so engrossed in his work that he didn't even noticed you standing there.

"Aegon?" You asked and he flinched slightly.

"Hey!" His body softened and he gave you a tired smile. "What's up?"

"It's Wednesday," you shrugged. "Did you want to come down and watch our show together?"

"Oh," he sighed. His hunched shoulders fell. "I have so much work that I'm trying to catch up on, and it's getting late."

You bit your lip and nodded, but lingered against the doorframe. His fingers went back to typing on the keyboard, undoubtedly waiting for you to make your exit. After a few moments, he looked back up at you, obviously confused as to why you were still there.

"Is everything okay, love?" He asked.

The things that you wanted to say made your mouth taste fowl as they lingered on your tongue. How long could you keep up the charade? How long could he? You were holding on the crumbling foundations of your relationship, silently begging for him to help you save it, and he still did nothing. This was the part where you wondered if he even realized that you were one foot out the door, with your bags nearly packed, or if he'd even care.

How many times had you rehearsed what you would say to him? He was sitting right there, asking you, waiting for your answer. Yet, you still couldn't bring yourself to say it.

And the cycle continues.

"Yeah," you say with a small smile and push yourself off of the door frame. "Don't stay up too late working," you told him. "You deserve a break, you know?"

"A break," he laughed dryly. "You're funny."

You turned to head back downstairs but before you could reach the first step, Aegon's voice stopped you.

"Hey," he said softly and you turned back to him. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

The words left your lips with ease but their weight lingered. At this point, you couldn't tell if they were genuine or the easy, default response. The doubt was planted; sprouting like a garden sick with disease in your mind. The more it grew, the more you wondered if this was all that there was to it after four years. Was this the end of your relationship? Would you do anything at all to salvage it? Would he? It couldn't be that easy to unravel everything you had built together, and yet it was; all it would take were two words, just two. A simple acknowledgement that things weren't working out and then someone decides who stays and who goes.

It's over.

It was the smell of bacon that woke you the next morning.

Your body ached from a restless night as you sat up, stretching your arms above your head before reaching for your phone. Your brows furrowed as you read the date and time, almost having forgotten it was Thursday. It had been years since Aegon had cooked breakfast, let alone in the middle of the week. You quickly shifted out of the bed, shuffling down the hall before stopping in the threshold of the kitchen.

He was at the stove, humming softly as he turned down the heat on the bacon. For a moment, you were taken back to when he'd wake up early and cook breakfast on the weekends. You'd wrap your arms around him as he worked, swaying back and forth as music played over the little bluetooth speaker that sat on the counter. He wasn't someone who spent a lot of time in the kitchen, but he knew how to get the bacon just right and his scrambled eggs were always perfectly fluffy.

"Morning," he greeted as you stepped into the room. You slowly approached him and wrapped your arms around his middle, placing a small kiss between his shoulders. You felt him tense for a moment before he relaxed in your arms.

"What's the occasion?" You asked, reaching around him for a slice of bacon. "Figured you'd be at work by now."

"I'm taking the morning off," he shrugged as you moved to his side, leaning against the counter. He pulled the last few strips of bacon off of the pan and laid them across the cooling rack before turning the stove off completely. "I really wanted to spend some time with you, if you can spare it."

Your lips turned softly into a smile, "I think I can manage."

He stepped in front of you, his hands finding their place on your hips, gently pinning you against the counter. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a soft kiss. He lingered there, forehead pressed to yours as he sighed against your lips. Despite everything, you craved these moments with him. Your body still reacted in such an automatic way to his touch that it was almost enough to make you forget it all.

Almost.

You didn't want to question it, but an unsettling suspicion lingered in your chest that there was more to his actions than just wanting to spend some quality time with you. After all, it had been months since he had shown any interest in you in that regard.

"I do have ulterior motives, however," he mentioned.

There it is.

"I knew there was something behind all of this," you sighed with a quick roll of your eyes.

You went to step around him but he stopped you, lifting you at the hips so that you were sitting on the counter. You brace yourself for what is about to be said. The short silence echoed throughout the room as he weighed his words. Instinctively, your negative thoughts fill in the blank as he nudges himself between your knees and looks up at you with a pout. You can almost see the infidelity in his eyes, and you know that he can see the apprehension in yours..

"Don't, it's not like that," he said quietly and you exhale a breath you hadn't even realized you were holding in. "My mother is hosting a dinner tonight, celebrating the return of her favorite son, and I'd really like you to be there."

Your eyebrows raised with surprise.

"Are you sure?" You ask tenderly as you move a strand of hair from his face, suddenly feeling guilty for thinking so poorly of him. His blue eyes were downcast, unmoving from your lap where his thumbs drew circles in the skin of your thighs.

"I don't even want to go," he muttered. "But, I'm obligated to and I want you to be with me," he took a breath before looking up to meet your gaze; you could see the sincerity in his blue eyes. "It would mean a lot to me if you were there."

"Okay," you agreed and he leaned forward with a thankful sigh, pressing his forehead to your shoulder. Your hand comes up to the nape of his neck, fingers instinctively twirling in his hair. "Why don't we go get back in bed?"

He lifts his head and places another kiss on your forehead, breathing out as he does so, "I wish I could, but I've got to go pick up the dry cleaning."

"Send someone to go get it for you," you sigh and groan, tilting your head back in annoyance allowing Aegon to place a chaste kiss to your neck.

"Mhm," he breathes with his lips still pressed to your skin. "I could."

"You should," you whisper.

Aegon hums in response as his lips trail across your clavicle. His hands gripped at your waist, squeezing as you both leaned deeper into this moment. He pulled you forward by the hips, allowing your legs to wrap around him. His hands slid slowly up your thighs, fingertips teasingly playing along the bottom hem of your shorts. You breathed out, bringing your hands to his jaw and pulling him up to meet your lips.

You couldn't remember the last time he had kissed you like this- the last time he touched you like this. Three words clung to your lips as they parted to say, "I miss you", but before they could take form, the abrupt sound of Aegon's cell vibrating on the countertop pulled you back down to a harsh reality. He pulls away reluctantly, a mixture of frustration and obligation on his face as he sighs.

"No," you whine. "You took the morning off."

He steps back away from you, and your hands instinctively reach out for him, hoping to provide an anchor. You can't help but feel disappointed as he answers the phone; Otto's disgruntled voice faint on the other end, screaming. Aegon, deeply apologetic towards his grandfather, hurries out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his office, leaving you sitting on the counter with two plates of untouched breakfast and a sickening feeling of disappointment.

One step forward, two steps back; like playing the fucking Hokey Pokey with your relationship. You sat there for a moment, allowing the feeling of his now absent touch to linger on your skin, wondering if you'd ever become numb to it. You gently slide from the counter, your feet resting flat on the cool tile, and let out a small sigh as you begin disassociating and staring out the kitchen window.

The rest of the day seemed just as monotonous.

Your mind was in a fog as you thought ahead to dinner with the Targaryen-Hightower household. Your expectations of the evening were uncertain, given the limited information you possessed about Aegon's family. You knew Aemond, and you knew enough about Otto Hightower to form an opinion- albeit not a very positive one. He never talked about his father, and the only interactions he had with his mother were when he was ignoring her phone calls. There had been a few times Aegon had mentioned his sister, Helaena, who he described as 'creative' and 'artsy'. You also had heard him mention his youngest brother, Daeron, a few times; he would call every now and then, Aegon never ignored his calls.

There was also the half-sister, Rhaenyra, from his father's first marriage. She was typically referred to as 'dad's favorite'. You knew the most about her, only because she was quite vocal in interviews, discussing her father's health and the potential scandal surrounding the succession of his business.

"What do I wear to this sort of dinner party?" You texted Aemond. The same text that you had sent Aegon hours ago hadn't received a response, and as the hours passed you grew increasingly nervous.

"Something formal but it is just a dinner," his reply came quickly, followed by a second text. "I would stay away from the color green, however."

"Noted, thanks!"

Baela was typing away on her keyboard furiously next to you as you turned to face her in your chair. She had a red gel pen stuck behind her ear and her eyebrows were furrowed as she worked. She had been particularly quiet, which was unlike her. Typically you couldn't get her nor Jace to stop bickering over the cubicle wall long enough to think of a single sentence to write.

You chewed on your lip for a moment before you decided to swivel your chair to face her, reaching for the jar of green M&M's on the island that separated your desks. "Hey, you got a minute for me?" You ask as you pop a few of the candies into your mouth, hoping to break the ice.

"Hm?" She hums but her fingers are still typing. You toss an M&M at her and she turns completely to face you. Her expression softens when you smile at her, "I'm sorry, I've just been swamped with this new project Jason put me on this week."

"Is there anything that I can help you with?" You ask, not even knowing that Jason had her working on something new.

Baela shakes her head, "I appreciate you, always, but Jace has been doing some extra credit for me."

You laugh softly, although you couldn't help but feel a little disappointed that she hadn't asked you. "That's probably best, he could use something to do."

"So, what's up?" Baela asked, getting to the point.

"Aegon invited me to a dinner with his family," your friend's eyebrows immediately shot up in surprise and you nodded. "I've never met any of them and I have no clue what to wear. Aemond said it would be 'formal' but it's still 'just a dinner', and Aegon- he didn't say anything."

"D'you ever find out what happened to him Friday night?" She asked.

You shook your head and frowned, "I could really use some girl time, if you could spare it."

At precisely 4:59 PM you and Baela both rolled yourselves out from underneath your desks and grabbed your coats. The snow was barely sticking to the pavement, and a thick, dense fog hung over the city as you stepped out of the office; the two of you arm-in-arm, laughing about something that had happened earlier at work. You were thankful for her company, as the last few days had felt particularly lonely. Plus, you were hoping to get a chance to talk to her about her new work assignment and how her week had been.

Aegon wasn't home when you got there. At this point, you wouldn't be surprised if he'd come through the door just to tell you that the dinner had been cancelled last minute; and you, standing in the middle of the living room, all dressed up for nothing. He wouldn't even acknowledge the effort you had put in to looking good for him. You allowed that scenario to play out in your mind as Baela poured you a glass of wine. She was talking about Jace, but your attention was elsewhere; unable to decide if you would be relieved if the dinner was cancelled or disappointed. You did want to see Aemond, and you did want to be there to support Aegon, but the potential drama that the evening held had you on edge.

"I can always tell when you're not listening to me," she laughed as she took a sip of her wine. She had a lock of your hair wrapped around the curling iron as you sat on the toilet in your bathroom.

"I'm sorry," you frowned, knowing that you hadn't heard a single word she had said about her new work project.

"You've got a lot going on," she said softly. "Talk to me."

"It's just Aegon," you sighed. "It feels like our relationship has been dead in the water for almost two years and we're both just holding on to nothing."

"Have you talked to him?" Baela asked, moving on to another section of hair. You tossed a hand up, trying to keep your head as straight as still as possible. "You need to talk to him, Y/N."

"What is there to talk about?" You asked with a defeated sigh.

"There is everything to talk about," and she was right. Baela was always right when it came to relationship advice. "You can't just decide to throw away four years because he's not being a good boyfriend right now. Aegon loves you, it's so obvious, he just seems stressed. Maybe he's going through something, maybe it's his family, have you even asked?"

You shook your head, not wanting to continue this conversation any longer. Just because Baela was always right, didn't mean that it was what you wanted to hear. Sometimes you just wanted someone to confirm your suspicions, or tell you that he was being a dumbass for pushing you away, or that you should break up with him and free yourself from the emotional torment that you were experiencing daily just from staying in this relationship.

You were his girlfriend, not his therapist. It wasn't your responsibility to sit him down and figure out why he was no longer putting forth any effort into making this work. All that should have mattered was the fact that he wasn't, because to you, that was a direct reflection of how much he cared. The bar was on the floor, it wouldn't take much at all for him to give you something. Yet, he couldn't even do that. He did just enough to make you feel like the fact that you were still hanging on was worth it, but you knew that it wasn't.

It was only a matter of time.

"All done," Baela said shortly after. You took a look at yourself in the mirror and smiled at her through the reflection; she had such impeccable skills with a curling iron and your hair looked perfect.

"Now we just have to figure out an outfit," you smiled.

"What about that one green dress you wore to the office Christmas party?" She asked as she followed you to the bedroom. "I love that dress, I have been meaning to ask if I could borrow it."

"You absolutely can," you replied and threw open your closet door, pulling that specific dress out on the hanger and laying it on the bed for Baela. "Aemond said that I should stay away from the color green, though, I have no idea why."

"How oddly specific," she chuckled as she smoothed her hands over the fabric of the dress. "I have a date next week, and this is perfect."

"A date?" You asked, eyebrows raining in suspicion.

"Yeah," she smiled. "It's kind of new but he's really sweet, he makes me all giddy. Like kicking my feet while we talk on the phone kind of giddy."

"So that's why you haven't been answering my FaceTime calls," your tone was light, but with your back to her, you couldn't help but frown. You remembered how giddy Aegon used to make you feel. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do to make you smile. "I'm happy for you, B."

You were being sincere and she knew that.

"Alright," you took a breath, shoving those memories back down where they belonged and turned towards the bed. "I think I have it narrowed down to the red or the blue."

"The red says 'look at me'," she says and joins you at your side. "You don't want that kind of attention right now, go with the blue."

"You're right."

The dress was boring, but it still accentuated your curves, and was the perfect choice for a semi-formal family dinner. As you stood in front of your mirror, putting the finishing touches on your outfit, you could heard the front door open and close. Baela's eyes connected with you through the mirror and you gave her a soft smile.

"Babe," you heard Aegon say from the threshold of your bedroom. You turned to see him standing in the doorway. "Baela," he smiled and nodded his head at her. "The car is waiting."

"Doesn't your girlfriend look absolutely incredible?" Baela asked, obviously proud of the work she had done.

"Sure," his face was flat. "You look great."

Your smile fell- along with every bit of your confidence- as he turned back down the hallway without so much as another word. You turned back to Baela; giving her a look as if to say, 'this is exactly what I mean', but she only returned it by squeezing your shoulders and giving you a reassuring smile.

"Maybe he's just nervous?" She's trying to play devil's advocate.

You knew it wasn't true, you knew that he just didn't care, and trying to convince yourself otherwise was exhausting at this point.

"Yeah," you agree with a frown and grab your clutch from the bed.

The Targaryen-Hightower residence was a sprawling, water-front mansion about 45 minutes north of Manhattan in Greenwich, Connecticut; what Business Insider claims is the richest neighborhood in the United States. The car ride there was silent, save for the soft sounds of talk radio coming through the speakers. You kept your gaze trained out the window, avoiding making any type of small-talk with Aegon as he drove. He kept his focus on the road, his face becoming more pained with anxiety with each mile you drew closer.

He sighed as he turned the car into the driveway, and you reached across the center console to place your hand on his thigh to show your support. Even though you felt indifferent towards him at the moment, you knew that tonight would be difficult for everyone involved. You may not have ever witnessed the dynamic of this family first-hand, but if Aegon was right about any of it, the mood would be dysfunctional.

The valet opened the door and Aegon held his hand out to you, no doubt putting on a display for anyone who may have been watching. There was a figure waiting at the door; her wavy, red hair glowing like a halo- or Devil's horns- from the overhead lights in the foyer where she stood. Immediately you noticed the emerald green dress that she was wearing, now knowing exactly why Aemond had steered you away from that option.

"I didn't think you'd come," Mrs. Hightower said softly to her son as you stepped through the door. She reached out to hug Aegon, who only stiffened as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders before placing a kiss on his cheek.

"I didn't want to," Aegon replied curtly.

"Aegon," his mother spoke sternly, as her gaze fell upon you. "This was meant to be an intimate family gathering."

"Please tell me we can't stay, I'd love nothing more than to go home," he spoke in a low tone, a touch of annoyance evident in his words. You pretended to be interested in a painting adorning the foyer wall where you lingered, still waiting to be formally invited in. "Y/N is my family, mother, more so than anyone in this house."

"Aegon," she warned with a sigh.

He moved to step around her and called back to you, "shall we?"

"Just a moment," Alicent continued, holding her index finger up to her son. Aegon sighed, his jaw was clenched. "I'd like to speak with Ms. Y/L/N alone for a moment."

Aegon swallowed and glanced down at you. His lips pursed as he nodded slowly, realizing he couldn't spare you from what was likely to be an uncomfortable encounter. "I'll be in the dining room, okay? It's just through those doors, there."

You nodded and he planted a short kiss on your cheek. Turning, you noticed Alicent standing at the base of the painting you had been admiring just moments ago. She didn't seem old enough to have four grown children, and for some reason, that unsettled you. Her red hair cascaded down her back as she gazed up at the painting, a tight but sad smile playing on her lips as you watched her.

"This painting is worth more than you'll make in a lifetime, you know," she stated coldly. "You should feel privileged to even look upon it." Your brows furrowed at her words. Before you could respond, she continued, "I understand that by you being here our family affairs are at risk of being publicized. Consider it a warning when I say that your career would also be at risk if you chose to do so."

You took a deep breath and resisted the urge to roll your eyes, steadying yourself before responding, "Your concerns are valid, Mrs. Hightower, but I'm here for Aegon not a story," her expression tightened as you held her gaze. The tension in the air lingered, but you stood your ground, refusing to be intimidated. "Now, if you'll excuse me."

You didn't breathe until you stepped through the dining room doors. Your eyes immediately found Aemond as you stepped into the room. His concentrated gaze shifted down your body slowly, taking in your appearance, and you could only hope that this navy blue dress was working for you in the way that you wanted; though, the approval was evident in his stare and in the faintest smirk on his lips.

When you finally looked at Aegon, his face was undoubtedly apologetic. He offered a small smile as he poured you a glass of wine and gestured it towards you. "She didn't say anything particularly cruel, did she?"

"Nah," you replied with sarcasm and sipped from the wine glass he handed you. "She only threatened my career."

"She's harmless," Aemond interjected.

"Harmless isn't a word I would use to describe our mother," a girl you could only presume was their sister, Helaena, added as she reached her hand out to you. "I'm Helaena, by the way, it's nice to meet you."

"Shit, sorry," Aegon cleared his throat. "Y/N, this is Helaena."

You chuckled at his late attempt to introduce you to his sister and shook her hand, "it's nice to meet you, too! I've heard a lot about you."

"And I've heard absolutely nothing about you," she gave Aegon a look before glancing back at you. "No offense."

"None taken," you smiled, brushing her comment off.

"Forgive me for wanting to keep my relationship away from this poisonous family," Aegon argued as he slumped down in his chair.

The door to the dining room opened and Otto Hightower stepped over the threshold. Aegon sighed loudly, slumping even further in his chair upon seeing his grandfather. You had never met him, but you had watched him in countless interviews. He took his role as Chief Operating Officer very seriously and you respected him as a businessman. However, you despised him for the chokehold that he had on your boyfriend; for the fact that he was singlehandedly responsible for ruining so many moments over the last two or so years, including one this morning.

It was strange to watch the way this family interacted as an outsider.

Aegon was visibly displeased to see his grandfather, and yet Helaena jumped out of her seat to give the old man a tight hug before showing him a video on her phone; her smile was bright as the two of them laughed together. Then, your eyes flitted over to Aemond whom was seemingly unfazed by his grandfather's presence; sitting calm and collected at the head of the table, his blue gaze caught your stare and his lips turned up slightly before you averted your eyes back to Aegon who was actively trying to drown himself in wine.

When Alicent entered the room, the mood shifted once again. She silently took her seat next to her father and signaled for the waitstaff to begin bringing in the food before she unfolded a napkin across her lap. Otto leaned to whisper something in her ear, to which she shook her head in response.

"Are we not waiting for father?" Aegon asked, his eyes slightly narrowed at his mother.

"Your father is in no condition to join us," Alicent's tone was sharp as she looked directly at you.

It was then that you realized Viserys Targaryen wouldn't be joining his family simply because you were there. They had done an excellent job at keeping the specifics of his health condition private and it was clear that they wouldn't be taking any chances. The look Alicent gave you from across the table was enough to make you feel small; you could see in her eyes the blame she placed upon you, as if it was your fault why her husband wouldn't be joining the rest of the family. Aegon reached his hand under the table and squeezed your thigh gently and you looked up at him.

You could tell that he now regretted his decision to invite you.

The first course had been served; the sound of forks and knives scraping porcelain plates echoed through the otherwise silent dining room. At one point you had mentioned that the food was delicious, but your comment seemed to fall upon deaf ears. When the waitstaff arrived to collect the plates and bring out the second course, you thanked them, but were only met with tight-lipped smiles.

You hated every moment you spent sitting at this table. You hated the antique furnishings, the polished candelabras, the wallpaper, the fact that the china you were eating off of probably cost more than a year's salary. You wondered if it had been like this for all of Aegon's life or if there was ever a flicker of normalcy. Suddenly, you wanted nothing more than to call your parents and thank them for the childhood you had so obviously taken for granted.

Aegon finished what was his third glass of wine, and before he could even set the glass down, a butler was on the way with the rest of the bottle for a refill. You wanted to say something, but were terrified of drawing attention to yourself, so you settle for looking at him; hoping to convey your concerns silently.

It was Helaena who broke the silence as the second course was served. Her voice was soft and hesitant, but at least she was trying.

"So, Y/N, how long have you and Aegon been together?" She asked you with small smile. Unlike her mother, Helaena exuded sincerity; she seemed to actually care to get to know you.

"We'll be celebrating our four year anniversary next week," you smiled, but it immediately disappeared when you looked at Aegon; his boozy gaze remaining downcast on the table in front of him.

When the words left your lips, you heard Alicent chuckle. Both you and Aegon, and everyone else at the table looked over to her. She laughed again, covering her mouth with her hand this time, "I'm sorry, four years?"

"Why is that funny?" Aegon asked, his jaw clenched.

"It's just that- before tonight- I don't think anyone here knew you even existed," she laughed again, digging her metaphorical knife into your side just that much more.

"We shouldn't have come," Aegon said as he pushed his untouched dinner away from him. He stood up and grabbed your hand, "we're leaving."

Before you could respond, the dining room door opened and your eyes widened as Viserys Targaryen struggled into the room with a walking cane. Behind him, a nurse followed closely with a wheelchair. Alicent immediately rushed to his side, allowing him to hold onto her for support.

"Aemma, where is Rhaenyra?" He looked around the room, almost panicked, before his eyes fell upon his daughter, "Rhaenyra?"

"It's Helaena, Dad," she frowned, unable to meet her father's gaze.

"This is supposed to be a family dinner, was it not?" He asked, his strained voice becoming louder with each word. "Where is my daughter? Where is Rhaenyra? I- I need Rhaen- I need to tell her-"

"My dear," Alicent spoke softly as she tried to reassure her husband, motioning for the nurse to pull the wheelchair up behind him so that he could sit and rest. "Rhaenyra couldn't make it, she apologizes, she and Daemon will come to visit soon."

She turned towards the table and excused herself before she helped a tired Viserys back out of the dining room and down the hall.

"Let's get out of here," Aegon muttered to you.

"No," Otto interjected as he continued to eat; completely unfazed by anything that had just happened. Aegon groaned, knowing what was coming. "We need to discuss the Stark account, the board meets tomorrow and there are still details we must go over."

"We can discuss this in the morning," Aegon answered pointedly.

"The board meets in the morning," Otto argued. "There's no time. I advised you of this earlier that we would need to finalize it tonight. I am sure your guest won't mind waiting."

Otto looked at you and smiled curtly. You glanced up at Aegon, his expression regretful, and nodded at him to let him know you'd be okay. He promised he wouldn't be long, but you knew better. It didn't take but a few moments after they had left before Helaena also excused herself, leaving you and Aemond alone at the table, as the kitchen staff began cleaning around the two of you.

A breath that you weren't even aware that you had been holding blew through your lips and you could hear Aemond chuckle softly.

"First time?" He asked and you almost laughed out loud.

"What gave me away?" You asked with a smirk as you took a sip of your wine. "Is it always like this?"

He tilted his head to the side, back and forth, a few times before he answered, "We have a tendency to be a bit intense."

"A bit," you snickered as you placed your wine glass back on the table.

"Would you like to take a walk?" He asked. You looked at him for a moment before checking over your shoulder for any sign of Aegon returning. "They'll most likely be a while."

"You're probably right," you answered. "Some fresh air does sound good."

Aemond helped you into your coat and scarf and guided you out to the back terrace. The frigid, early February air bit mercilessly at your cheeks, but the sight of the full moon reflecting off of the water was worth the potential frostbite. You walked through a small garden, past empty concrete fountains, as he led you down to the water.

He held out his hand to you as he stepped out onto the floating dock; it shifted beneath the weight of him, but he stood steady, waiting for you to take a step further and join him. You took his hand and followed, trying to ignore the warmth that gathered in your chest at the feeling of his touch. He didn't let you go until you had reached the end of the dock and could hold onto the railing for support; leaning against it, you cross your arms over your chest and look out across the Sound. It was quiet, save for the lapping of the water against the rocks and the faint rhythm of Aemond's breathing.

"Thank you," you say softly, the warmth of your words swirling around you in the cold air.

Aemond turns his back to the water and leans against the railing. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small, silver flask, taking a sip and making a face before holding it out to you, "what for?"

"For the distraction," you take the flask, fingertips brushing against his as you did so. It's whiskey, and you cough at the taste, but it warms your cheeks.

"What are friends for?" He asks with a soft smile. "I've been meaning to ask, did he ever say where he was Friday night?"

"I didn't ask," you admit. "He never brought it up."

"Hm," he hummed. "My brother is an idiot, but I would hope he wouldn't be foolish enough to-" He trails off, catching your eyes from the side before averting his gaze back out at the water. "Nevermind."

"Foolish enough to what?" You ask, already knowing the answer, to which Aemond only sighs in response. "You think he could be cheating on me."

"I'm only saying that he doesn't have a great track record," he turns to face you. "He's been known to be a bit thoughtless in the past."

You only nod your head as a silence falls between the two of you.

Thoughtless wasn't a word that you would have ever used to describe Aegon- not at first, not about you. People do change, and both you and Aegon had certainly changed in the last four years.

It would explain a lot and it would make things easier if he were cheating on you, however. You'd have a reason, an out, and you wouldn't have to worry about the guilt that came with breaking his heart just because you wanted more effort than what he was willing to give you. Though, it did hurt to think that he might have been putting in that effort with someone else.

In the distance you heard the faint sound of laughter and turned to see Aegon and Helaena sharing a hug and saying goodbye. You looked up at Aemond and gave him a sad smile, knowing that the evening was coming to an end. You weren't sure when you would see him again, but you already hoped that it would be sooner than later.

"In the case that no one has told you," he mentioned quietly, his elbow softly nudging you as you both walked back towards the house. "You look incredible tonight."

"You're just trying to make me feel better," you laughed.

"Maybe," he smirked. "Doesn't make it any less true."

"Don't forget about my art show," Helaena reminded Aegon one last time as you and Aemond joined them. "I know you are the worst when it comes to remembering things, but it would mean a lot to me if you were there. Y/N, I hope to see you there, as well!"

"Wouldn't miss it," you reply with a smile.

"I won't forget," Aegon groans sarcastically as he gives his sister one last hug before turning his attention to his brother.

They step off to the side and you turn back to Helaena.

"Sorry about dinner," she adds. "I promise some of us actually know how to have a good time."

"I believe it," you laugh. "I am dating your brother."

"Yeah, and he's typically the fun one," she smiled back. "You guys seem good for each other, though. I'm glad he finally found someone to be serious about."

You nod your head as you look over at Aegon; he's laughing with his brother as he takes a swig from Aemond's flask. You were happy to see that he was much more relaxed than he had been earlier, something his siblings seemed to bring out of him. He caught your stare and gave you a goofy smile before mentioning something to Aemond who then looked over at you.

The feelings you felt towards your boyfriend, and the feelings you tried your hardest not to feel for his brother were fighting a civil war inside of you. You hoped that it wasn't obvious that you were being ripped apart from the inside out, because if it was, you were in trouble.

But as you stood there, looking at the both of them, you knew you were in trouble no matter what.

Tag List:

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notacelestialbeing · 10 months

Text

dollhouse (yunjin x f!reader)

synopsis: reader gets jealous of yunjin’s friend taking away all her attention on their anniversary celebration.

warnings: m0mmy issues/k!nk, str4p on, car s3x, jealousy, insecurities, angst, smut.

songs used: dollhouse by the weeknd.

word count: 1.5k

┌────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────┐

“Dollhouse, dressed up, perfect, messed up

Torture me to sleep, paint the air I breathe”

music fills your senses as you stare into the abyss. your life was oh so messed up, at least you had yunjin.

you and yunjin were out celebrating your anniversary at the new ramen restaurant. it had been almost two years since you guys began dating. it was almost unbelievable to you how you had gotten so lucky. to have huh yunjin as yours, yours to love, yours to cherish, yours to call mommy.

yunjin’s friend walked in and ever since that happened, you felt invisible. you continued to stare into the night sky as you reminisced your first kiss, first date, first everything. she had always been your first.

it felt as if the time was moving really slowly, you were getting impatient with the way your entire attention had been ripped off of you. so, you being a brat obviously meant you would try to gain it back.

you slowly inched your right hand forward and onto yunjin’s uncovered thigh. you were sitting across from her so her friend really couldn’t see what was going on beneath the table. yunjin just moved her leg away and you hand fell off of her.

you looked shocked to say the least. never had someone’s presence enraged you this much before in your life. you just wanted to rip off her friend’s head and stab her two eyeballs with the fork in your left hand. you took a deep breath and asked the waiter to get the bill.

having had enough of whatever this bullshit was, you began to think of why yunjin might be happier with her bitch of a friend than you. insecurities started to fill your heart, after all, yunjin could date anyone better looking than you, right?

yunjin looked up to see what was going on as she saw the waiter come by to give you the bill. she saw the way you aggressively took out your card and paid for the dinner. she had zoned so much into the conversation with her friend, she totally forgot about you being there.

yunjin quickly rushed after you as you stormed your way out of the restaurant. luckily, it was almost empty in the parking lot so she didn’t have to worry about being mauled by the paparazzi. guilt began to eat at her as she realized that she truly ruined your guys’ anniversary.

you waited in the car for her to get into the passenger seat so you could drive home. it had truly been a long night for the two of you.

yunjin opened the door and quietly got in. she knew better than to speak to you when you were pissed off. the silence between you two could be cut with a knife. surprisingly, even the radio was turned off tonight.

yunjin couldn’t take the silence anymore. so, she slowly moved her hand onto your thigh and squeezed it as a way to get your attention. but you weren’t going to cave in so easily.

you continued to drive until you found an empty secluded area to park the car in. none of you were making it home safely while being this needy. you parked the car in a place surrounded by trees and tall buildings.

yunjin looked over at you to see why you had parked the car. you stared at your hands for awhile until you snapped out of your daze. it was time for the two of you to behave like adults and figure it out.

“so, why did you park the car behind a building? we’re basically 20 minutes away from home.” yunjin politely asked you. you turned your head to look at her and dismissively responded with an okay.

“do you really think i’m going to forget about the way you treated me tonight? i sat there thinking this is going to be the best anniversary yet. you finally had a day off and you promised to spend it with me. i wanted all the attention on me tonight and vice versa. but what the actual fuck yunjin—.” she grabbed you by the back of you head and smashed your lips together while gently gliding her acrylic nails on the back of your neck.

all the air had been knocked out of your lungs. almost as if she had sucked it out of your veins herself. your mind was too drunk off of her lips to give a fuck about what had happened. you both knew the make up sex was all you both would need.

you pulled back and slightly smiled at yunjin as your eyes made their way from her eyes to down to her lips to back up again. you surely knew how to drive a girl crazy. she got undid the seatbelt and made her way into your lap, but what she didn’t know was; you had a little surprise waiting just for her.

she slowly sat down onto your lap and just admired the way your hands held her body up and the way your eyes stared into her eyes despite the resentment that had settled into you earlier.

“i’m so sorry for the way i made you feel at dinner. i had no intention of letting you sit in silence all alone especially on our anniversary. i love you so much, let me prove it to you my love.” she threw a toothy smile at you while running her fingers through your curls.

she continued to passionately make out with you as her hands made their way down to unbutton your dress shirt. as she went to unzip your trousers, she felt something. it was definitely not a plug of any sort. was it your strap on?

she pulled away from the kiss to discover what it was that you were hiding so well in your pants. she put her hand inside and felt her favourite strap on. yunjin could cry tears of joy right now. after a long night, she could finally show you her love.

there wasn’t enough space in the car for her to take off her dress, so the only thing she could do was move her panties to the side. she pulled out your strap and slowly slid down on it.

a low moan left her gorgeous puffy lips. “f-fuck, you have no idea how needy you make me.” the car bounced with the way she rode your strap. she wasn’t going to leave you unattended after what happened at dinner earlier.

moans and pants filled the air. the strap was stimulating your clit, there was no way the both of you were going to last. not after how much tension filled your pussies. yunjin continued to ride back and forth, up and down, round and round.

she was determined to show you how much she loved you. yunjin suddenly got up and turned around so you could enjoy the way her back muscles flexed every time she moved. it was truly something you enjoyed.

“I love it when you call me daddy

Am I? Am I?

Oh yeah

Know I love it when you call me daddy”

“could you imagine fucking someone that isn’t me? huh, mommy? could you imagine someone that isn’t me? could you—fuck me just like that, ugh— imagine being without me and my fucking strap?” your mouth spoke before your mind could register.

tears started to fall out of yunjin’s eyes as the pleasure was getting too intense for her. the sadness was also hitting her. she couldn’t imagine a world without you; a world where she wasn’t able to claim you as hers and make you hers at night.

you stopped her hips from moving, you weren’t gonna let her come so easily. “n-no please don’t stop, baby. i’m so c-close to cumming. don’t do this to mommy.” she whined until her voice cracked.

you felt pity for her, it was your anniversary after all. you were gonna show her that no one would ever fuck her the way you did, and love her at the same time. you started to move your hips as you reclined the seat back for more leverage. you hit her spots so well, she couldn’t help but let out a loud moan.

whimpering filling the dark night’s atmosphere as you both began reaching your highs. “f-fuck me so good. oh my god-d. baby, i love you so much. keepgoingjustlikethatdontstopatallohmygodimsoclose.” yunjin rambled as her back arched and she collapsed onto you.

you kept pumping to reach your own high as you triggered another one in her. yunjin came for the second time in the night. she passed out slowly as you climaxed. “f-fuck mommy, i came so hard just by seeing you pass out.” you groaned out.

you hugged onto yunjin’s body for a few minutes before getting out of the car and laying her in the passenger seat. you made your way home and realized that it’s way past midnight.

► aftercare

#yunjin smut #huh yunjin smut #yunjin x reader #lesserafim smut #kpop smut #kpop x reader #gxg #wlw smut #yunjin #huh yunjin

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tallulah477 · 7 months

Text

The Rumor Mill

Kinktober Day 2: Eating Out

Pairing: Spider x Na’vi!Reader

Warnings: AgedUp!Spider, Oral (female receiving), Size difference, Insecure/nervous reader

Word Count: 3.1K

A/N: I heard some people were craving some Spider content (me included) and I did my best to deliver! This was inspired by some Spider talk Luna and her anons were having regarding his reputation and I just HAD to write it.

Summary: Spider has a reputation among the Na’vi women for being an A+ pussy eater, and your friend is dedicated to making sure you get a chance to try him out for yourself.

You’re watching Spider from across the fire as he sits with the Sully family. The flames send a golden aura across his figure, illuminating the tanned skin and blue painted stripes along his muscled and toned body.

You take another bite of your teylu to keep yourself from gnawing at your lip instead. He’s unreasonably handsome to be born from the sky demons. Dark blonde hair that’s so differently colored than what you’re used to that you can’t help but want to touch it, and unique dark eyes that are so deep you just want to look into them for hours.

And his smile . . . Eywa, don’t even think about his smile right now.

That smile he’s smiling right now as he laughs at something Lo’ak just said. It’s clearly funny, since the other Sullys are laughing too, Jake included - all except Neytiri who leans over to hiss and smack her son on the side of the head in reprimand. But you're focused on Spider, whose smile shines like the brightest light even through the semi-darkness of the village, burning brighter than even the fire between you.

When his laughter dies down, he turns his head to look across the communal dining area, and, as if he can feel your eyes on him, he looks directly at you - warm brown eyes meeting wide amber. Your eyes dart away quickly, embarrassed at being caught, before slowly looking back and catching the barest hints of the corner of his lips twitching, like he’s trying to hold back a smirk.

You look down at your lap and take another large bite of teylu to distract yourself.

“Just ask him,” Your best friend, Renu, says from beside you, no doubt tired of watching you stare and stare at the human boy instead of actually taking action. “He never says no and all the girls say he’s amazing with his mouth. You’ll have a great time,”

You shake your head, mouth full as you try to talk around the meat. “I can’t. I’m too nervous,”

She laughs, incredulously. “Girl, what? He’s literally a self proclaimed pussy eating god. You’re going to deny yourself that kind of pleasure just cause you’re nervous?”

Before you can respond, she nudges your arm and points across the fire to where Spider is standing up and waving goodbye to the Sully family, preparing to head back to the human outpost for the night.

“Go!” She says, urging you towards him with a push to your shoulder. “There’s never been a better night to get your kitty licked. Go before he leaves!”

But you can’t move, frozen in your spot as you watch Spider disappear into the forest. You hear Renu let out a deep sigh behind you before she roughly grabs your arm and drags you up.

“No,” You whisper-shout, as she forcibly pulls you along. “Renu, no!”

But she doesn’t listen to your pleas and continues to pull you along, past the rest of the clan still enjoying last meal, and into the forest, hot on Spider’s trail.

“Renu, stop,” You beg. Her hold on your arm is unwavering though and she drags you along through the trees, running fast and forcing you to pick up the pace too. “I’ll- I’ll do it tomorrow. I promise!”

“Why tomorrow when you can get it tonight?” She says, spotting Spider walking along through the other side of the foliage. She drags you along a little farther up so you’re both ahead of him before stopping and letting go of your arm. She pushes you towards the brush, urging you to go through it and reveal yourself to the unsuspecting human quickly catching up to your location. “Go, y/n. You can do it,”

“I can’t!” You hiss, quietly.

She sighs and places a comforting hand on my shoulder. “You can. You like him. You’ve wanted to do this for a long time now. Just be brave. It’ll be great,”

Your heart is pounding in your ribcage as you gnaw on your lip. “What would I even say to him?”

“‘Can you lick my pussy, pretty please, gorgeous human?’” Renu suggests with a shrug. And the worst part is, you know she’s entirely serious.

On the other side of the large plants, you can hear Spider’s quick footsteps as he gets closer. You panic, not sure what to do, and your immediate thought is run but Renu senses your attempt to escape before your feet even move and she clamps down hard on your shoulders to keep you still.

“Thank me later,” She whispers, and pushes you roughly in the opposite direction, sending you straight through the dense foliage and crashing to the ground right at Spider’s feet.

You gasp at the sudden landing, hearing a shocked ‘fuck!’ from the boy as you scare the complete shit out of him. He’s next to you in a second, crouching down so close with a concerned look on his face.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

You open your mouth to respond, beyond embarrassed and wanting nothing more than to throw your dearest friend off a damn cliff, but you’re stopped when Spider places a strong hand on your thigh.

“Uh, I-uh,” You stammer. The warmth of his palm is spreading throughout your whole thigh, shooting tingly heat up your skin and pooling in your core.

His hand is surprisingly big on your thigh, still small compared to a Na’vi, but much larger than any human’s has a right to be, and the contrast between his pale skin and your cobalt skin is such a shocking view but it scratches your brain just right.

“You’re hurt,” He says, and you only notice the slight graze on your thigh when he runs a gentle finger along the scratch.

A shiver runs down your spine at the tender touch, but you shake your head anyway. “It’s nothing,”

He looks up at you, wide dark eyes gazing up at you curiously. “What happened? Did you trip?”

“Um, not really?” You say, eyes darting to where Renu is probably still hiding like a little creep. “More like . . . shoved.”

The corner of his lips quirk like he’s holding back a smile and you just want the ground to swallow you whole. And the crazy part is, his hand is still on your thigh. “O-kaaay? So, what are you doing out here? It’s past eclipse.”

Your eyes widen at his question, panic shooting through you as you scramble to try to think of an answer. Some kind of explanation as to why you’d be in the forest past eclipse and heading in the direction of the human outpost when you were just seen safe in the village at last meal. Something that’s not ‘I think you’re really cute and hear you give great head. Wanna make me your last meal?’.

“Oh, well I--”

“She wants to know if you’d eat her out!” Renu’s disembodied voice shouts suddenly from behind her cover.

Eywa, WHY is she your friend?

Your eyes are like saucers when they cut back to him, alarmed sounds leaving your throat and trying to make themselves words, but your mouth and vocal cords won’t cooperate with each other. Spider is staring at the group of flora where Renu’s voice came from, confused, and you can do nothing but look on in horror as Renu’s words finally click in Spider’s mind.

“Really?” He asks, looking at you, eyes wide and a grin tugging at his perfect lips.

“No,”

“Yes!” Renu’s voice interrupts. “Yes, she does. She’s a liar. And for the love of Eywa does she need a good orgasm to calm her nervous ass down,”

Your jaw is practically on the floor at Renu’s words and Spider lets out a loud laugh. His grip on your thigh raises up some, warm hand way closer than it should be to your clothed cunt as his fingers slide teasingly against your inner thigh.

“Is that true?” He asks, voice low and smooth. “Because if it is, of course I’d oblige. Happily.” His voice drops down into a low growl as he leans in close to your face. “Ecstatically,”

Your face feels like it's on fire from embarrassment, but the combination of his hand on your thigh and the deep growl of interest in you makes your entire body heat up in arousal. He’s so close, face leaning in closer towards you and you can see the different shades of brown and dark gold in his eyes through his mask. Those eyes, so beautiful as they’re framed by thick dark lashes. And his mouth, plush lips, one of which is caught just so between his teeth, looks so kissable right now - and he’s leaning in like he might want to kiss you. And you’d let him, you’d so let him kiss you right now if only the damn mask wasn’t in the way.

“Yeahhhhhh, get it, girl!” Renu’s stupid voice calls, and you toss your head back and groan loudly.

“Please, Great Mother. Please, make her go away!”

Spider chuckles and gently grabs the back of your head, pulling it back down and resting your forehead against the cool glass of his mask as if it were actually pressed against his. His eyes hold a look of mirth and excitement, accompanied by the ever present grin on his face. But they also hold heat, such a distinct look of heat and lust and your stupid brain is trying to think of anything else it can be because there’s just no way he can actually want you like this, but there’s no denying that the feeling is all for you.

“Let’s get out of here,” He whispers, and finally pulls his hand off your thigh to help you up.

The walk to the human outpost is short, but you can’t help your thoughts from racing. Are you really going to do this? It’s normal among the unmated Na’vi to have sexual relations with one another for pure pleasure, but Spider isn’t a Na’vi. And he’s not just some random guy you’re sleeping with just for the experience. You like him. He’s goofy and funny and cute, and, above all, respectful of The People and their traditions. He doesn’t try to just live beside them, but instead he lives as one of them.

And he’s so experienced. You’ve heard how many girls have sung his praises. About how his sky demon mouth must have been a gift from the god of Earth because none of Eywa’s creations have ever come close to making them feel as good as he has. You’ve never been one to take advantage of the sexual liberation among your people, preferring instead to take care of yourself if ever a need arose.

But you want to with Spider. You’d let him do anything he wanted to you.

Including devouring you with his demon tongue.

When you reach the outpost, Spider pauses with a hand on the door.

“You sure you wanna do this?” He asks, and you’re a little shocked to see that his normally playful and goofy persona has been replaced with an all too serious version of himself. “You can still back out if you want to. I don’t want to pressure you. Renu was kind of pressuring you.”

You feel your heart melt a little at his concern for your consent and you send him a comforting smile. “You’re not pressuring me. Renu . . . she knows me. She’s annoying, but she knows me,” You take a deep breath. “I want this,”

He shoots another blinding smile at your confession before punching in the security code and pushing open the metal airtight door. It seals behind you with a loud hiss and Spider immediately takes off his mask and exo-pack, placing it on the table with the others to recharge, and grabs a carbon mask from the hook next to the table.

You lean down, letting him slip the cord of the mask over your neck while the mask itself hangs low against your abdomen.

“You know, I’ve been hoping you would ask,” Spider says, as you follow him to his bedroom. “Been trying to send hints at you for a while now to gauge your reaction.” He stretches his arms above his head, joints in his shoulders and back popping at the movement. “You’re kinda hard to read,”

“Why me?” You ask, slightly distracted by all of the smooth skin and tight muscles so casually placed on display. The blue painted stripes on his body are on every visible surface: face, shoulders, chest, stomach, back, thighs, calves, and you can’t help but wonder if he paints his cock with stripes too.

He drops his arms and pauses for a moment, seemingly unsure of what to say or if he should actually say what he’s thinking before shrugging, “You’re gorgeous,”

Your face heats up again at the compliment and you grab the mask around your neck to take a breath of air.

Spider steps towards you and suddenly you feel like prey to a hungry predator. “On the bed, gorgeous,”

He keeps coming at you, his calloused hands finding a place at your hips as he guides you backwards until your legs hit the bed. You drop down, your body finding the smaller bed surprisingly comfortable as you sprawl out as best you can. Spider follows you up and crawls up your body until you’re face to face. It’s like you're back in the forest, the heat between you palpable as his eyes dart down to your lips.

And then his lips are on yours, warm and wet and so so good. You sigh into the kiss, feeling the muscles in your body relax and your head go a bit fuzzy as he moves his lips against yours.

When he pulls back, his pupils are blown wide with arousal and you're positive that yours look the same. “You ready?”

You give an affirmative hum and watch with wide eyes as he moves down your body, pressing kisses along your chest and torso as he passes before he finally comes to your heated core.

He runs gentle fingers along the outside of your tewgn, tracing your slit through the already wet fabric before he unknots it with skillful fingers and pulls it from your body, revealing your glistening folds.

“Hmm, so beautiful,” He groans, laying on his stomach between your spread thighs and rapidly closing the distance between his face and your already soaked pussy. “Just relax for me, okay?”

He wraps his arms underneath your thighs, fingers digging into the insides of your thighs. And then his mouth is against you, soft and hot and wet as he laps greedily at your arousal. His tongue feels so good as it loves on your clit. The warm, wet muscle sliding slowly across the sensitive nub as he moves his head from side to side. He moans against your clit, eyes rolling into the back of his head like he’s tasting the most delicious treat he’s ever had, and the vibrations shoot through your body like lightning.

His movements are getting rougher as he shoves his face completely against your sopping pussy, licking a broad stripe up the length of your cunt, tongue just dipping into your leaking hole before traveling back up to nibble at your clit again.

You can’t control the sounds that are coming out of your mouth. You’re panting and moaning, body twisting and not knowing what to do but being unable to stay still against the overwhelming onslaught of pleasure.

When Spider’s mouth seals around your clit and sucks hard, you feel all the air leave your lungs and your mouth opens in a silent scream. It’s so good, so so so good. And you can’t breathe. It feels so good, and you can’t breathe.

Can’t breathe. So good. Can’t breathe.

Then the suction is gone and you feel a nudge at your belly and just barely think to look down before seeing Spider, face wet and practically dripping with a smug grin on his face as he pushes the carbon mask towards you.

“Breathe, skxawgn,” He laughs, panting as he shoves his grinning mouth against your thigh, peppering small kisses and bites there while he waits for you to learn to breathe again.

You place the mask over your mouth and nose, gulping down the Pandorian air so fast it makes you lightheaded. Your thigh twitches in his hold from a particular pointed bite and he immediately presses a kiss to the sting to make it better before moving back down to your core.

“Keep breathing, gorgeous,” He reminds you before diving back down between your thighs.

You whine into the mask, your heavy breathing fogging up the clear surface as he feasts on your cunt. His fingers tease at your entrance, circling the needy hole before dipping inside. You whimper at the slight stretch, his thick fingers pushing in deeper and curling up to rub against your sweet spot as he laps eagerly at your swollen clit.

Your tail swishes restlessly beside you and without you even thinking about it, it wraps itself around Spider’s throat - not too tight, just enough to hold onto something - and Spider looks up at you with a cocky wink.

“You don’t have to hold me here, baby. I’m not going anywhere,” He mumbles into your pussy, sounding drunk. “I’m exactly where I want to be,”

You’re so close, hips canting against his face, whines and whimpers of unbridled pleasure filling the room and only muffled by the mask still pressed to your face. You don’t trust yourself to take it off. You feel like it’s the only thing grounding you and keeping you from completely flying apart from the relentless swipe of Spider’s tongue and the way his fingers are curling inside you.

With a mischievous glance up at you, he places a playful kiss on your clit before taking the swollen nub between his blunt teeth and biting down gently. With a sharp gasp and cut off shriek, your back arches off the bed, hips grinding against his face as your orgasm tears through you destructively.

Spider holds onto your thighs tightly, groaning against your cunt as it gushes, soaking his face in your juices.

Your body shakes and shivers through the aftershocks, tears running down your cheeks from the overwhelming intensity of it all, and honestly, you’re not sure if you’re okay.

Spider gently releases his hold on your thighs and wipes your juices from his face, licking his lips to capture the remaining taste on them. He sits back on his heels, large bulge now visible in his tewgn. He smirks, voice low and raspy as he says, “So, what do you think? Are the rumors true?”

**Special thanks to @pandoraslxna for the prompt!

#lunaskinktober2023 #spider x reader #spider smut #miles soccoro smut #spider x na'vi reader #spider x female reader #taliewrites

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ss-skyearn · 1 year

Text

Incandescent

PAIRING : Lee Minho x afab!reader.

WORD COUNT : 5.7k.

GENRE : Angst, Smut, Fluff.

WARNINGS/CONTENT : Vampire au (identity of the vampire not revealed in the warnings for plot purposes), explicit sexual content, switch!Minho, switch!reader, grinding, dry humping, desperation, unprotected intercourse (can we not, please), blood (got a little creative with it), just really emotional and fulfilling for both parties *sob* they're in love.

A/N : To all those waiting, I'm working on part two to Sugar Rush but the break I took from writing is proving to be a massive hinderance, so this a little something I wrote while trying to get back into it. Enjoy, lovelies. ♡

"Or I will," it's not a threat, but the potency with which you state it makes it seem like one.

"Do it," it's not a challenge, but the voracity with which he says it makes it seem like one.

A tug of war between rationality and derangement, that is what being with him is like. Always.

Because Lee Minho makes you do vile things, makes you want to corrupt every part of you, and him in the process.

The night is young, the moon looming over the horizon, a mere twinkle all that's seen among the heavy clouds settled at this hour of night.

But you don't need it, not the gleam of the moon, not the dazzle of the nightlights laminating the cheap motel room.

For his silky smooth skin does just the job.

Doesn't help that the buttons to his equally silky shirt are undone all the way.

There he stands, leaning against the window sill, looking into the distant sky, gaze stoic, as if challenging the moon.

If he actually did, you know he's already won.

There's no match for him, not the moon, not the stars, not the galaxy. It's him, only him for you.

Has been, for far too long.

Longer than you've let yourself accept. You'd known when he'd started growing on you, when you saw him for who he was, when you let him peel off the layers to your heart, your soul, albeit unwillingly. For the grief of acceptance of your wandering heart wasn't something you could stomach. For your sake and your love's. A past love. But a love, nonetheless.

He suddenly pushes forward, standing straight before glancing over his shoulder to your sleeping form— what he thinks is your sleeping form.

You quickly squeeze your eyes shut, perhaps a little too tight to be considered natural, and pray he doesn't notice.

But of course, he does.

A drawn out sigh is all that's heard, all that needs to be heard. You know he's onto you.

You'll pretend all the same.

You keep your eyes shut, ears hyperactive, making out the path the soft pad of his shoes follow. He's moving somewhere away from the bed where you're nestled, and you heave out an inaudible sigh of relief. You don't fool yourself into believing he doesn't know. He does, he always does. But you're thankful he's choosing not to point it out. You're not sure you could handle it right now.

The slow sound of liquid hitting a surface echoes through the eerily quiet room, followed by a splash, then ice cubes clinking.

He's swirling his drink, twice clockwise. The best way to enjoy bourbon, he'd always say.

He walks again, this time towards the bed and you can't help crackling open an eye, enough to catch a glimpse, for this is the first time you're able to without the crushing weight of regret, without the guilt eating away at your insides.

There he sits, back reclined against the armchair, legs on the opposite chair, one swinged over the other. One elbow rests on the edge of the table, the same hand clawing the base of the lowball glass. Still. Not swirling.

Only twice, clockwise.

The chain that goes around his ankle length boots glimmers, the long expanse of honey skin visible through his open shirt that now is pulled further apart his torso, given his leaning stance. Reclined there, he paints the picture of beauty you've never been subject to, the picture of beauty you've never been allowed to be subject to.

He'd always been there— no less attractive— but he wasn't yours to see, yours to admire. He still isn't, you suppose, but he isn't not yours either.

Indeed, this limbo of nothing but something is far better than him simply being off limits, a fate you'd accepted long ago. But that supposed fate no longer stands, and he's all your eyes can seem to want to admire, to desire.

And it's that very same desire that has now forced your eyes wide open, sleeping pretences forgotten. You curl in yourself, hiking the blanket further up your cheek, hand fisting it just underneath your chin, eyes wide and twinkling, taking him in, drinking him in.

Though his posture mimics a relaxed bearing, you know it's anything but.

The slight downward frown to his full lips, the locked jaw, flexed cheekbones, phlegmatic eyes give it away. He might be leaning back, physically relaxed, but his mind is running a mile a minute.

You would know. Yours is too.

His eyes suddenly cut in your direction, locking with yours. Your own gaze doesn't falter, for all the sleeping act was worth, you both know you had been awake anyway. No point in continuing with the facade.

He brings the glass to his plush lips, eyes still peering into yours from behind the rim. He tips his head back, knocking the entire shot in a gulp.

No hiss follows. Bourbon is watered down coffee to him at this point.

No buzz, just a lingering burn on the tongue, he'd said.

As his Adam's apple bobs with his gulp, you no longer can help your gaze as it follows, making its way from his clavicle, to his chest, to the taught muscle of his abs, the sharp angle of the v line you want to see more of, before it disappears behind his tight fit pants.

He observes you checking him out, indulges you for a moment, before wordlessly getting up.

Placing the now empty glass on the nightstand, he slowly slides under the covers, with you, but still so far.

He's on the far end of the bed, the literal edge. As far as is possible while still sharing the same sleeping space. And it's not for lack of want, you know. His desire is lucid, swimming in the honey pools that are his eyes. You only hope that your own isn't as evident as his.

Slowly, as if testing the waters, he slides his hand forward under the duvet, eyes carefully studying your reaction, making sure. What exactly, you haven't an idea.

His cold hand slips into your warm one, fingers brushing and you shudder. Visibly.

It's a simple touch, the simplest there is, you'd argue. One you've been subject to at various instances by various individuals.

None of them being him.

Really, he's the only one that can get you pliable like this, can get your body to react like this.

Your eyes flutter shut, heart teetering close to arrhythmia, and whisper with a voice appallingly weak, "Dont."

"Why not?"

His answer is quick, almost a reflex, as if expecting you to say something along the lines. And with good reason. That's all you've been saying to him the last however long he's been haunting your existence, toying with your heart, coaxing a side of you you don't want out.

But your body had by now been trained to listen to him over you where he's concerned. There's simply nothing you can do. Doesn't stop you from trying, though.

His thumb slides over your knuckles slowly, reassuringly. His eyes still flick across your face, looking for even a glimpse of reluctance.

You know he won't find any. But what he will find is what you're afraid of. The want. The yearning. The longing. And for all the show you're making of pushing him away, the fucking excitement of finally being alone with him.

It's a dangerous game you're playing, tipping treacherously close to the precipice of doing something you know doesn't have a turnabout. You need to stop this. Now. Before all else is forgotten, caution thrown out the window. Anytime now.

So you do the only thing that you can, forcing your body from under the covers and gliding off the bed. The sudden gush of chilly breeze slides the sleeve of your robe off and it's then that you realise that it had come undone at some point during your rustling on the bed.

You don't have to glance back to know that he's looking.

Quickly winding the belt around your lower torso, you make work of the knot and move to stand in front of the window he was before moments prior.

Looking up at the moon, you're sure about it all over again. No lustre beats the honey tone of his skin, the one you want to run your hands all over, the one you want to feel against yours.

The mere thought stirs shameful desire within you before you have a chance to eliminate it, and you suppose it can be allowed once. Just once. You'll let your mind live the imaginary fantasy.

Or perhaps the real one. If he's so inclined.

You know this because you can hear the rustle of the sheets, heeled boots clacking on the hollowed floorboard. The speed at which they approach you is nothing like the soft pad you'd heard while laying in bed, just a touch on the frantic side.

He stops just behind you, almost touching but not quite. You know he won't. Not unless you give him the green light.

You've both kept your distance for as long as you've known him— or rather known of him. You've endured it all that time, you can go a little longer.

He's right there, a mere inch behind you. All that's needed is for you tilt on the heel of your foot just so, and you'll actually experience his warmth, instead of just feeling it radiating off him.

But you don't move that one inch backward. And he doesn't move that one inch forward.

"Why not?" he reiterates.

"You know why."

"I honestly don't. What's wrong, now?"

You exhale into the night air, leaning forward a tad, fingers gripping the rail. He moves closer still, the body heat intensifying. Yet not quite touching.

"What's wrong, kitten?"

"I—"

"I know you want to."

Of course you do. That hasn't ever been a question. Not even back then, back when it was supposed to be.

Of course you want him, of course you crave him. He's invaded your life, infested your mind, took over your being. Merely by existing. That just goes to show the extent of damage that can be done.

The brighter the flame, the more ghastly the burn.

But you'd burn for him. You'd let him walk you to whatever condemnation there is, right through the gates of the abyss that lies ahead.

And the longer he stays behind you like this, in such proximity yet the farthest he's ever been, you're that much closer to accepting your fate, to giving in, to finally letting your heart have what it's been denied all this time.

You turn just slightly, glancing over your shoulder, and one look at his gaze, so stern, so powerful, yet with a glint of tenderness only you've ever been subject to, and all walls come crashing down, the desire overflowing, the metaphorical dam reaching its breaking point.

You lunge forward, fisting your hands into the collar of his open shirt, yanking him towards you until there's no distance left to close, your breaths mingling together, lips mere centimetres apart.

"I- don't."

Just why are you asking him to stop when it's you who's desperately clawing at him, you don't know. Perhaps you fool yourself into believing that this isn't on you, it's not you who's pulling him in, not you who's moments away from tasting him.

Come to think of it, it's all you've been doing. Pretending to be the one with morals, fooling yourself into believing that you're doing the right thing, posing to be the picture of scrupulous, when you know damn well you're none of those, far from it.

And the faint smile that takes over his striking features is reminder enough. Reminder of how he never once complained even as he saw right through you, how he never called your feelings out even as he knew of your straying heart, how he never tried to deny the accusations, the insults, the rebukes, taking it all in stride, storming through it all.

Yes, he's the bastard who fell in love with his brother's girl.

Yes, he's the scoundrel who tried to steal her away from him.

Yes, he's the motherfucker who did finally steal her away from him.

And yet again, he's falling into the character he's taken on these past few months, of taking the blame, of silently suffering. Anything if it means he has you.

Just like this, so close and alone. Nothing more. Nothing less. In a spiral of time, where this moment never ends, where you don't have to worry about the consequences, the repercussions.

But it seems like you do, for the look on your face is positively screaming for help, your eyes unsettled, lips parted in trepidation.

And so, he takes over the role of the responsibility bearer, if only to assure you that yes, it is in fact his fault, he's the one who brought you here, and he's the one making the first move.

His hands move your waist, grasping at the curve of it, large palms easily engulfing it in warmth.

Breaths hitching, for it seems touching you has just the same effect on him as his touch does on you, and it takes all of a minute for you to know what he's doing.

"Don't," seems like that's all you're capable of saying today.

Yet this utterance is not quite the same as the ones you breathed before.

Before, it was a warning, a cautious withdrawal, a plea to not touch you anymore for you're not sure you can handle it.

Now, it's an understanding, a discernment, a plea to stop playing the part of the bad guy, for you're not sure you can handle that either.

He makes you weak.

Weak in a way that makes you want to run into his arms and let him protect you from all that is wrong, all that is malicious, all that keeps him away from you.

And you know he will. Protect you with his life. Cherish you with his soul. Love you with his heart.

And as you lean into him at long last, you embrace it, accept it— he's what you really want.

You're both gasping, skin tinged a shade of pink, equally breathless at having finally had a taste of what you'd been craving for far too long, what you'd been denied longer than that. It had been you— you who had denied yourself this, so you have no one else to blame. But in this moment, when his hands slowly glide up your sides, caressing you with gentle care, the soft touches juxtaposed by the way his eyes turn crimson in reflection of his unadulterated want for you, you suddenly don't remember why had you done that. It's unmistakable, the ardour he holds for you, the desire you do for him. You thought you were good at masking it, but were you really?

With the way your body betrays your sense of reason, the way you slot your lips in between his in a wanton display of want, the contented hum that leaves you involuntarily when you push your tongue and slide it over his, you wonder if it was this apparent even before.

Did Hyunjin really not know? Did he not catch the fire that burnt so bright between you, the electricity tying you together, the way you crave him. Did he not know or did be simply not want to know? Turning a blind eye, waiting for you to come back to your senses, to come back to him.

Did he know, an iron rod left in the company of a magnet gets magnetised; the longer it stays, the closer it rests, the more intense the field, the greater the conversion. And convert you he did, into an electromagnet no less. The field of force so strong, growing fiercer by the second, it was only a matter of time before it consumed you whole.

"Stop thinking of him," a whisper says against your lips.

Your drifting mind comes to, and you find Minho peering with his eyes into yours, the crimson in them dulled.

"I'm here, so stop thinking of him."

For some reason, your eyes water, throat constricting, thick with emotion you dare not try to describe, for you don't know yourself.

But of course, he does.

You find your face cradled into the palms of tender hands, kind face looking down at you with a wistful smile playing on the plush kiss bitten lips.

"It's okay, kitten, it's okay."

"It's not," a weak whisper, indicative of your equally weak state of mind.

"It is. It's normal to think of him when he's all you've ever had. But I'm going to change that, I want to change that. Will you let me?"

You give him a meek nod, not finding it in yourself to hold back any longer.

"I want you to say it, kitten. Please, I want to know it's what you want."

You clench your fist into his shirt that dangles of his frame, sliding it off his shoulders, letting it pool behind him, "I want you. So bad."

"Then have me," he pushes forward with a sudden force, all the care having dissipated in favour of passion.

The breath is knocked from you with the way he whisks the two of you to a nearby wall, with a speed impossible for a human to achieve, but it's no task for him. Indeed, he has to hold back as to not go too fast, lest it render you both dizzy, something you're already teetering at the edge of.

You gasp when he tears your top off in a display of sheer strength, and again, it's no chore for his supernatural strength, evident in the way his orbs once again glimer scarlet, putting any flame to shame. His voice is hoarse when he says what he does next, another reminder of his inner demon emerging out in the haze of his arousal.

"Could've had me whenever you wanted," he noses at your jaw, hums at the sweet scent hitting his nostrils.

"Minho—"

He growls, pushing forward into you until you're compressed against the wall with nowhere further to go, your mind enveloped by everything that's him.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

"Stop saying my name like that," he begins a frantic rub of his lower half against yours, fingers digging further into your waist where he holds you.

"It's all I've wanted to do," you say through glassy eyes, head falling back onto the wall.

He hurtles you away yet again at that inhuman pace, pushing onto the bed proper with his frame hovering over yours.

"Why didn't you, then?"

It's a rhetorical question, the answer to which he knows himself, so you choose not to answer, simply wrapping your legs around his waist, clinging onto him as he tastes your neck.

The chill air from the open window causes goosebumps to break across the wet trail his tongue leaves on your throat, a gentle moan escaping you.

"You smell so sweet," he murmurs against you, voice muffled by his unwillingness to detach himself from your skin, "fuck."

Once again, he begins his mindless rut, and you know it's involuntary, for the way your hips respond in the same manner is unintentional too.

"Taste me," you gasp out, winding your fingers into his silver locks and pushing his face further into your neck.

His movements still, and he easily lifts his head off you despite the hold you have on his hair on account of his paranormal strength.

"Don't say that."

"But I want you to," you say looking right into his eyes, that now glow the brightest they ever have. His face is paler than usual, lashes longer and prettier than they have ever been, lips more pink than you recall, and you know that it isn't the direct result of your attack on them. You'd heard the effect arousal can have on vampires, their beauty being intensified multifold. You thought you'd witnessed it every time you spent a night with Hyunjin— his features accentuated, face framed more delicately than usual.

But on Minho, it's all so different. It's not a change that's slight, in any sense of the word. Unlike Hyunjin, he's glowing, with his high cheekbones dusted rosy, mouth parted to release rapid huffs of breath, his breathing laboured. You'd never even entertained the idea, that he could be any more beautiful than he already was, but here he is, painting the very picture of etherealism.

"Drink from me," you echo, running your hand over his forearm in silent encouragement.

It's then that you witness it, for the first time on him. The way the nerves on his under eyes bulge out, hot red blood running through them all too visible, the pulse in them loud enough to roar in your ears. You reach forward, gently trace your fingertips over the cascade they make. They're uneven under your touch, ridges that throb with every beat of his once alive heart. Indeed, it lies still underneath your other hand that rests on his chest, no sign of life for there is none.

"You know what that means," he sighs, resistance already cracking, gently clasping his hand over your wrist, making no attempts at taking it off his face.

Another thing that's so vastly different from Hyunjin. He used to coware in on himself, turn his face away, going as far as to stop midway, just to hide the predator that resided within him. Despite your constant reassurance of wanting to see every part of him, incessant pleas to trust you, to let you behold him for the beauty that he is, he hadn't allowed you that.

But Minho makes no attempt to stop you from admiring him, even snuggling into your touch further, confident in all that he is. He knows it, has accepted it a long while back.

"You're thinking about him again," there's no malice in his voice, no hint of resentment. And that makes you feel all the more guilty.

"I'm so sorr—"

"Don't be," a kiss is planted straight on your lips, so gentle it might as well not be there at all, "I knew what I was getting myself into."

"Minho, I—"

"Don't need to explain yourself, kitten."

"No," you nudge at his chest and he allows you to push him back onto the mattress, to straddle his thighs and rest yourself in the comfort of his lap. It's an unfamiliar position, as is just about anything with him. Having spent far too long craving for— and being denied of— the intimacy of his body warmth, you don't know when it'll stop feeling so foreign, so electric.

"I do. This isn't fair to you. Or me. He's no longer in the picture, I should be here with you."

He winds his arms around your waist, pulls you further into him, "You were with him a long time, it's only natural to compare."

Oh.

So he knows.

Gentle scratches on your scalp lull you to a state more vulnerable you would ever allow yourself to be exposed to, but right now, with him doing doing just the same, you suppose it's alright to let go of the control you hold so dear at all times.

"I—"

"Besides its not like he's completely out of the picture," he rambles, a rarity for him, you're aware, "this is stolen time we have right now—"

"All the more reason to make good on it."

"So it's more than enough that I even get to do this with you, who knows if I'll ever get to do it again—"

"I've made my decision."

"So it's fine really, just try, okay? I don't mind—"

Further incoherent maundering silenced by a firm press of your lips on his, he melts into you, slumping back against the headboard.

"I've made my decision," you repeat, knowing full well he didn't hear you the first time around.

His eyes droop, acceptance spelt out in bold on his face.

"Tell me after we're done?"

"No."

His hold on you unwinds a little, eyes losing their fire.

"Kitten, I don't think I can go through with this after you tell me you're going back to him—"

"I choose you," you smile, and the crimson, with its flames roads in his orbs once again, "I choose you, Lee Minho. Will you choose me?"

Overcome with emotion, he lunges for you again, kisses you in a way that makes it difficult to breathe, but with him so near, so close, you simply don't wish to. He's the breath you need, the reprieve to your burning lungs, the respite on this chilly night.

"Always did," he speaks into your mouth, moving further down south where he nips at your collarbone.

"Bite me, then."

And yet again, he stills, looks up at you through his lashes, the veins under his eyes prominent once more. He doesn't need to voice his reluctance, you see it all too well, your patience running thin.

"Or I will," it's not a threat, but the potency with which you state it makes it seem like one.

"Do it," it's not a challenge, but the voracity with which he says it makes it seem like one.

Your own eyes burn crimson, you know because you see it reflected in his orbs that widen in want. It's instinctual, the way your lips part, canines extending past the length of neighbouring teeth, the way your tongue swipes over the pointed ends, your own veins hardening and protruding under your eyes.

"Fuck, you're beautiful like this," he says, witnessing the vampire in you take over.

You're similar to him in this respect, you realise. For as much as Hyunjin hates what he is, you both embrace it with open arms, resign to being what you once weren't. Denial can only last so long, and truth be told the perks far outweigh the demerits— not least of them being how your senses, ever on high alert, are even more so when you indulge in intimacy, the heat of the moment intensifying, feeling every touch, every caress straight to your core.

You lean down towards him, gently grazing your fangs on the soft expanse of his neck, his scent driving you off the edge.

"You know what this means, don't you?" he knows you do, and the recurrent reminder only serves to make you want to do it even more.

But he needs a clear answer, deserves it. So with the last shreds of patience you still somehow possess, you manage to pull away from the crook of his neck, looking straight at him, "He gave me a choice. To choose him or you. That was the whole point of us coming here, right?"

He nods. You chuckle.

"He eventually saw this- this thing between us, and asked me if I had feelings for you," you don't know why you're reiterating the entire backstory, it being far from something he doesn't know, "He didn't believe me when I denied and so he sent us here, for me to figure out what I want."

He just nods again. You take his face in your hands, thumbs stroking the area adjacent to his ears, rubbing gentle circles, getting him to relax into you.

"Turns out I knew what I wanted all along. You. I want you. All of you."

And your mouth is back on his throat, kissing down along the length, suckling until it's painted in blues and purples.

"You want this, baby?" you whisper.

"Only if you keep calling me that," his voice is wobbly, cracking around the edges, and judging by the hardness that pokes your thigh, you have a pretty good idea as to why.

"Baby. My baby."

"Fuck—"

"Can I have your blood, baby? Smells so good…"

"Shit, have all of it."

You huff out a laugh, "Mm, a sip will do."

The notion couldn't be more erroneous if it tried.

As soon as you lick a bold stripe up his skin to soften it, preparing it for the no doubt excruciating pain that is to follow soon, and finally sink your fangs into him, you're a goner. The growl that leaves you, blended together with his moan is music to your ears, the perfect backtrack to his flavour that floods your mouth.

He tastes piquant, tart and spicy, an undernote of sugar lingering somewhere on the back of your tongue. You hum, sink your canines further into him, and meet no resistance. If anything, he tangles his hand in your hair, pushing you into him even more.

"Fuck, you're delicious."

He laughs, the gentle rumble reverberating through your chest from his, and you will yourself to detach from where you're still biting into him.

A few stray droplets trickle from two freshly made cavities that now mark his once flawless skin, and you collect them onto your tongue, not wanting to waste a single drop.

Swiping a thumb over the blood that still lingers on your bottom lip, you bring it to his mouth, and yet again are met with no defiance. He parts his mouth all too willingly, sucking his own essence off your fingertip, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he does so.

Thumb still in his mouth, you bite into a fresh patch of skin, right by his clavicle. The cry that leaves him buzzes and dances around your digit, which you instinctively push deeper into his heated cavern. The lack of opposition from him is getting to your head, making you wonder if he'll do anything you ask of him, if he'll bend to your wills, just where do his limits lie— if they do, at all, for he is nothing short of competitive, driven for all the right reasons— and the wrong— and in this instance, you choose to use it to your advantage.

So you take in a generous mouthful of his ichor, prying his mouth apart with the thumb nestled deep into it. He's confused for all of a minute before he catches on, the glint in his eyes in addition to the crimson fire that has not once dimmed since you started indication enough of his approval of just what you're about to do. Indeed, it isn't something typically indulged in, certainly not with this kind of liquid.

But Lee Minho makes you do vile things, makes you want to corrupt every part of you, and him in the process.

Your lips connect, he tips his head back without you having to ask him to and as the red liquid travels from your mouth to his, you clasp his head in place, giving him every last bit of him from you. It's a messy affair, as one would expect, droplets trickling down between your connected mouths, but if the contented hum that leaves him is any indication, he doesn't seem to mind either.

You begin to pull away, but his hand suddenly pushes into the space between your shoulder blades, keeping you— and your mouth— pressed to him. He licks into your mouth, hot and heavy, caressing your tongue with his, and it's only a moment's delay when it hits you— he's cleaning any remnants of him still left in you.

By the time you part, you're both panting, gasping for breath, and he once again brings up the inevitable,

"You know what this means," it's not as much a question as it is a fact this time around.

"I do. You're stuck with me now, whether you like it or not."

His eyes sombre, carrying so much fondness you feel undeserving; he gently rolls you to your back on the bed until his face hovers mere inches away from yours, "Unbeknownst to you I already was, the day I saw you with my brother at the ball."

"I'll tell Hyunjin about us when we get back," you brush his long locks away from his forehead and behind his ears, only for them to fall back down on your face, soft and tickling, "about this," your thumb gently runs on the fang marks you've left on him, ones to stay there forever, to mark him as yours, never to fade away.

"You think he'll take it well?" his face drops to the junction between your neck and shoulder, voice a mere whisper.

"You know the answer."

"He loves you."

"But I love you," you stroke his hair delicately, praying this is enough to let him know of the gravity of your feelings for him.

"What if- what if you don't one day? You loved him too, but you don't now. What if you decide you don't love me anymore and that he was better—"

"Baby."

"I'm sorry," he sighs, realising he let his insecurities take over, yet again.

"Don't apologise, my heart. I do love him still, as a friend, as a support system in my life; I'm just not in love with him. You're it for me. Please believe me."

"I do," wet kisses littered across your neck, gentle and faint, enough to make you crave more.

"Mark me, then."

"What?"

His head snaps up then, furrowed brows roofing even more confused eyes.

"Mark me as yours, too. Like I did you," your eyes flit to the bite mark on his neck, clear as day. Maybe you should've marked him in a place where it wasn't so easily visible, or maybe you should've bit in a place more apparent.

A tug of war between rationality and derangement, that is what being with him is like. Always.

"I-I can?"

You have to say, you're a little hurt at the surprise to his tone.

"I told you to believe me, didn't I?"

"B-but—"

"Please?"

"Fuck—"

And it's only with him filling you with a delicious stretch that he finally sinks his teeth into you, the paradox of pain and pleasure addicting in a way you thought impossible, and surely, this isn't a one time thing— it can't be.

"We belong together now."

Feedback and reblogs are very highly appreciated. They're what keep the community alive and help content creators stay motivated.

[Send an ask if you wish to be added to the permanent taglist.♡]

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sarucane · 5 months

Text

Did Ed really want to die?

In a juicy spiral of nuanced psychological storytelling, I think the answer to this question is both yes and no, and so actually a it's a third answer:Ed wanted dying and living at the same time.

When Ed tells Lucius a song that goes "fingers bleeding, down to the bone now...hold on, hold on, hold on," Lucius recognizes it as a hell of a bad mental state. Lucius suggests Ed let go, and Ed says that'd be death.

Lucius then offers a third possibility: that dying won't be a death.

So Ed tries to throw himself into that. And when he actually sings, his song is the opposite of the one from before.

The stories we choose to tell reveal things about us. At the beginning of S1, Stede told a story about a wooden puppet becoming a real boy, pointing to his desire to "really live." At the end of the season, Ed's inner contradictory desires move from subtext to text through his amateur songwriting. He wants to hang on, he wants to let go and can't make himself, and "life's a hard sad death."

And then this all gets further mucked up when Izzy comes in and threatens "Edward," (who could get reborn) and says only "Blackbeard" gets to live. Ed releases his silk and throws Lucius over the side: the third options Stede and Lucius have made him drram of are out of reach.

Except then, when Ed embraces Blackbeard, he's embracing death: he paints himself up to look like a fucking ghoul.

Wanting to live and wanting to die are basically the same thing for Ed now. He's got no lighthouse to steer away from or toward (and a lighthouse is after all another double symbol, something to guide and something to avoid).

And finally we get Ed's story in S2E1, about a bird that "can't actually exist." Ed wants to live, and he wants to die, and he wants to be a bird that spends its life in the air, that exists outside of the struggles of life and death, that just keeps flying without any differentiation between where it came from and where it's going. But the bird is also a version of that third option, to live and die at the same time: It's alive and it's dead, its whole existence is in the sky and therefore it never really lives, never stops, never feels or hurts. It's everything and nothing at the same time, suspended.

And even when Ed makes a decision that should end the conflict between wanting both life and death--decides at the start of E2 that he's going to die today--he doesn't go at it directly. He tries to get Izzy to do it; he provokes the crew to mutiny, leaving repeated openings to be stopped while also plowing forward. Until, finally, the decision is taken out of his hands.

The result of all this is internal conflict manifests externally and drives the plot at the start of S2. The conflict is seeded from the beginning, as Ed reigns over violence while barely participating, moons over Stede and threatens Izzy.

And from the moment Izzy confronts Ed, knocks him out of his state of "flying," Ed does things that contradict each other. He asks the crew if "the vibe is poisonous" while pointing a gun at them. He points a gun at his own head and asks if the vibe is poisonous, then tells the truth, to general confusion. He says he doesn't feel crazy while doing something clearly crazy. He shoots Izzy, then tells Frenchie to kill him. If Ed wanted Izzy dead, he'd have chosen someone else. Frenchie isn't the type to slit a throat in cold blood, and Ed's not a moron. There was no way that was going to happen.

Or so he thinks, because then he's in the gravy basket. Hornigold represents his unconscious, his desire to both live and die: First, Hornigold saves him. Drags him off the beach and forces him to eat, to keep living. But then Hornigold drives him to despair, brings up the core crises of guilt, loss, fear, and insecurity (his dad's murder, Stede leaving) that pushed Ed down the path that led him here. And in the end, Hornigold speaks Ed's insecurities back to him. That he's unlovable, and that he's scared to do the only thing to do about it: kill himself. So he brought Hornigold to do it for him.

And then Ed's living and dying at the same time, again. He's struggling against the rope, and he is the rope hauling himself down.

Everyone needs help, sometimes.

Ed sees Stede as a merman, "Something that can't actually exist." But something Ed hadn't expected. Down here, in his darkness and unconscious, a light. And then the pros outweigh the cons by quite a lot, and he doesn't even notice when the desire for death fades away.

He isn't a bird that never touches ground: he's on the ground, he's under the water. But he is something that he thought maybe couldn't exist. A version of himself that can change.

Ed gets what he really wanted. He dies, and he lives.

#ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd #ofmd s2 #our flag means death #ofmd spoilers #ofmd meta #ed teach #blackbonnet #stede bonnet #gentlebeard

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sanjisboyfie · 6 months

Note

hello, can You please make a second parte of luffy's one shot after the time skip? sorry if My request bothers you

this req doesnt bother me at all :) i would love to do it -------- BUT !!! dont eat me guys !!!! but im not gonna post the pt2 of it because i fear it would too much replicate what i want the actual events to look like in keep safe (the ff that the tender one shot was based off of).....DONT EAT ME IM SORRY but heres a little snippet i wrote for the pt. 2 since i feel bad because we probably wont see this ^ happen for quite a bit of time

womp womp time

"all those times [name] had practically put his life on the line to protect luffy and his crew and their dreams, they all amounted to luffy not even being able to protect him.

his eyes were blown white as silent tears fell from his eyes. and then his jaw dropped down and a scream erupted from his chest that made rayleigh, kizaru, and kuma all still.

a raw, genuine shout of pain escaped luffy’s lips. he stared up at the sky that was painting a sunset and screamed, screamed until it felt like his throat was victim to a thousand cuts.

“[name]!!!” he shouted into the air, pain and fatigue being the only tangible emotions on his face. “where did you send [name]?!”

kuma flinched at the tone luffy had taken with him, but he obviously didn’t answer.

“bring him back!! bring him back, now! i want him back right here! bring [name] back!!” luffy shouted, hands repeatedly punching into the dirt beneath his body as his tears turned the soil into a softer substance, “bring him back, bring him back, bring him back!!”

“i fear that that is not possible,” kuma said, walking over to luffy with his paw outstretched, “it is better if you were to…forget all about that boy,”

now this made luffy’s head snap up in nothing but pure, unadulterated anger. he felt rage consume his entire being. forget about [name]?! forget him?! the one man that had always stepped into danger for him, the man who had showed him what soft care and love was…forget him?

luffy grit his teeth, trying to control his breathing. but why would he need to control himself when his mortal enemy was right in front of him. if anything, letting go of all of that anger he had been caging inside of himself would be the right answer. when else would he get to do something as reckless and violent than right now?

forget [name]…?

what an infuriating suggestion."

this is only a snippet I FEAR we will have to just wait until we get to this part in keep safe for the whole thing to be published IM SORRY LMFAOAO

#imma still tag this as if it were the one shot tho #free promo #shoutout @ myself #luffy x male reader #luffy x reader #one piece x male reader #one piece x reader #luffy imagines #one piece imagines #male reader #male reader imagines #x male reader #lo siento for asking u guys to wait so long for a proper pt. 2 #OH WELLLLLLL

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three--rings · 7 months

Text

OFMD and Rime of the Ancient Mariner

I have to shout out @nonsensicalramblings79 who wrote their own analysis of the connections. It's very worth reading. But I want to talk less about symbols and more just bits of the poem that vibe with the season so far.

The "impossible bird" that Ed references in ep 1 immediately made me think of an albatross, because there was a sailor legend that albatrosses always flew across the ocean and never stopped on land.

And because there's a strong connection between sailors and albatrosses, most famously as a result of Samuel Taylor Coleridge's poem The Rime of the Ancient Mariner (1834).

So because the other post linked above didn't quote the actual poem much, that's what I'd like to do to point out WHY it feels like this is an actual connection.

First of all, the poem takes place At a Wedding, in which the Ancient Mariner is a fairly unwelcome guest. We learn at the end that he is cursed for the rest of his life to forcibly spill out his story to people when he sees someone who he's Meant to tell. So he's talking to a Wedding Guest in the middle of a wedding party.

It is an ancient Mariner, And he stoppeth one of three. 'By thy long grey beard and glittering eye, Now wherefore stopp'st thou me? The Bridegroom's doors are opened wide, And I am next of kin; The guests are met, the feast is set: May'st hear the merry din.'

This is how it begins. The mariner has a "long grey beard and glittering eye." Okay, Ed-core. He's at a wedding and stops this bridegroom's next of kin, who complains why are you making a fuss, the party is going on right now, they're going to hear you. Definitely evoking Ed crashing the wedding in ep 1.

So the Mariner was on a ship, a storm came and blew them off course, then they saw an albatross in the sky and were able to get free of the ice. I find it interesting that the albatross:

It ate the food it ne'er had eat, And round and round it flew... And a good south wind sprung up behind; The Albatross did follow, And every day, for food or play, Came to the mariner's hollo!

The albatross ate the food it had never eaten, it flew around and came everyday when they called it for food and play. This evokes Ed and Stede in their honeymoon days on the Revenge, Ed trying new food, them playing different roles and eating good meals...

Then more fog and ice came and so the Mariner shoots the albatross. Everyone is happy about it because they think it brought bad weather until they become becalmed. We get the most famous lines of the poem:

Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean. Water, water, every where, And all the boards did shrink; Water, water, every where, Nor any drop to drink.

That has nothing to do with OFMD it's just Good Poem. I do find the next stanza evocative:

The very deep did rot: O Christ! That ever this should be! Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs Upon the slimy sea.

Very Kraken-y. It will come up again. The crew decides the Mariner did this to them by killing the albatross that had been their friend and good luck. They tie the bird around his neck as a mark of his crime.

It goes on to describe them all dying of thirst and how then Death comes on them and all the men on the ship, 200 of them, die EXCEPT for the Mariner. All of them die looking him directly in the eye, cursing him in death.

Alone, alone, all, all alone, Alone on a wide wide sea! And never a saint took pity on My soul in agony. The many men, so beautiful! And they all dead did lie: And a thousand thousand slimy things Lived on; and so did I.

So I said the slimy things would be back, the Mariner is relating himself to them, again like Ed and the Kraken. Here we get to the part of the poem that is about the Mariner's inability to die. He's been cursed and so he cannot die, despite his desperate situation. This is where it really resonates with Ed in the early eps of S2. He desperately wants to die. He feels he is a curse on humanity, which he acts out in his violence, and also a curse on his crew, who he is ruining. He wants to die but cannot, despite all his attempts at getting someone to kill him.

An orphan's curse would drag to hell A spirit from on high; But oh! more horrible than that Is the curse in a dead man's eye! Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse, And yet I could not die.

He tries to pray, but his heart is "dry as dust" and he cannot. But after seven days he starts watching the snakes in the water and enjoys the beauty of the world around him, and the albatross falls off of his neck and he can pray. He prays and basically a spirit or God or Mary answers him. It rains and he drinks water and then the corpses of the crew, which have not rotted at all, stand up inhabited by spirits and begin working the ship again. Wind carries it back to his home.

Yeah zombie sailors, dead men crewing a ship, WAY before Pirates of the Carribean.

So anyway, eventually he hears two voices speaking on the air.

'Is it he?' quoth one, 'Is this the man? By him who died on cross, With his cruel bow he laid full low The harmless Albatross. The spirit who bideth by himself In the land of mist and snow, He loved the bird that loved the man Who shot him with his bow.' The other was a softer voice, As soft as honey-dew: Quoth he, 'The man hath penance done, And penance more will do.'

I find the lines about the spirit who loved the albatross, who loved this man, who shot him. So the Mariner killed something who loved him, and that was his sin that brought the curse on him. But now he's done penance and will do more and that's why he can be saved.

Could make a connection to Ed shooting Izzy, but also it feels like Stede is also the albatross, but rather than Ed killing him, the albatross failed to love him? IDK Maybe Stede is the spirit who loved Ed the albatross and Blackbeard killed the Ed that Stede loved....that fits best. And it's the spirit who saved him ultimately. As Stede in mermaid form saves Ed.

Getting to that, the boat approaches land.

Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed The light-house top I see? Is this the hill? is this the kirk? Is this mine own countree?

Lighthouse imagery, of course. So a boat approaches this ship, with a "Good Hermit" in it. The ship however basically cracks in half and sinks right in the bay, and they fish the Mariner our of the water and think he is dead, but he wakes up and scares the crap out of them. Then he starts to row for shore.

'Ha! ha!' quoth he, 'full plain I see, The Devil knows how to row.'

They call him The Devil, which I point out because Ed calls himself that.

Basically he tells his whole story and here is where we learn he's compelled to tell his story when he meets the right people. He closes by talking about how alone alone alone he was and how he appreciates being with people and walking to church with them, going to a wedding. And also learned how important it is to cherish all creatures in the world.

And finally the Wedding Guest who heard this whole story:

He went like one that hath been stunned, And is of sense forlorn: A sadder and a wiser man, He rose the morrow morn.

IDK I just like this image of being sadder and wiser when you wake up in the morning, which again feels evocative to how Ed is going to wake up maybe?

IDK. I don't think we can say "oh clearly they had this poem in mind while writing these episodes", but they feel to me like they were written with this somewhere in the back of their minds. The reference to the impossible bird feels very much like a literary reference to an albatross, which would immediately conjure the "what happens if you kill an albatross" from this poem.

If you're still reading, hope you enjoyed this little journey into poetry. I'd encourage you to read the whole thing. It's very very weird and unique.

#ofmd #ofmd s2 #ofmd meta #poetry #rime of the ancient mariner #my meta

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griffin-girl-r · 7 months

Text

Be a family

Created: 11.02.2022

Finished: 22.08.2022

Edited: 13.09.2023

Age: 9

Word count: 1,854

Warnings: Getting lost, Strangers

Request: No

Pairing: WinterWidow

Summary: You get lost, but luckily, a kind stranger helps you find your mother.

—

After being a part of the Avengers for a few years, Natasha decided that she wanted to retire and try to live a normal life for you. She was done with all the fighting and after everything, the retirement had been long overdue for her. She deserved that normal life she wished so much for her and you.

So she did.

That was two years ago and Natasha had lost any contact with the Avengers, besides Clint, so she mainly had no idea of what was going on over there.

Fury had indeed tried several times to make her reconsider her choice and come back to the agency but Natasha didn't even want to hear about it, leaving no other choice for Fury than to give up on the hope of bringing her back to the team.

—

Today your mom decided to take you to the park.

It was the perfect spring day for a walk in the park. It was warm despite the gentle cold breeze, the sun shining the brightest he had in the last 3 months and everything looked so lively.

You both had so much fun walking and talking and eating ice cream. This day couldn't get any better.

—

But there was one catch.

And it was that the park was rather a really big one. I mean, it was Central Park in New York, of course it was going to be huge.

It only took one second of distraction and you got separated from your mother and found yourself lost.

You were not so little anymore, but you still got scared when your mom wasn't by your side.

She provided you with the much-needed feeling of safety and love and now that Natasha suddenly disappeared from beside you, you felt very vulnerable.

Anything could happen.

With no idea of what to do you sat down on a side and put your head in your hands about to start crying when all of a sudden a voice startled you.

"Hey, kid. Are you okay?" A soft and deep voice was heard from somewhere near you

You raised your head and found a man in front of you.

His brown hair reached out almost to his shoulders, his sky-blue eyes looked at you with softness. His tall, muscular body was crunched in front of you and his left arm looked funny.

Very funny actually.

And what was even more funny was that a red star was painted on it.

You shook your head "In a second I was next to my mama and in the next one, I couldn't find her." You burst out crying

"So you got lost? Umm... Okay... Look!" The man slightly smiled at you "What if I help you find her? What do you say? She must be so worried right now." He proposed

"Mommy told me to not trust strangers." You sniffed as you remembered what your mom always tells you before going out

"And she's right!" The man raised a finger as if a little light from above had just enlightened him "Here..." He extended his arm "I'm Bucky. What's your name, doll?"

" Y/N." You shook his hand

"See?! We're not strangers anymore." He excitedly cheered

Bucky had a weird feeling about you.

But in a good way.

There was something in you that made him want to protect you. He looked deep into your bright green eyes, which reminded him of someone he lost a long time ago.

And your red-brown hair looked like it was the perfect mix between his hair color and the one of...

Bucky shook his head.

He can not think about her right now. He needs to stop thinking about her... About them...

They're gone.

—

You hesitantly agreed to go with him to find your mom.

Not that you had a better option. But something in Bucky made you feel safe.

It's funny.

The safe feeling Bucky was emanating to you felt a lot like the one your mama offered you.

After telling him how your mom looked, he offered to carry you on his shoulders, saying that it would help to see at a longer distance.

Taking his offer, you and Bucky started to look for your mom.

—

After fifteen minutes of searching, you finally spotted your mom.

It was like you had seen an angel when you caught that glimpse of bright red hair of hers that absolutely fascinated you.

Natasha was desperately looking for you and she was on the verge of crying.

How could she lose you so quickly? Damn it! She was a Russian spy and yet she lost her own daughter in a park?! What kind of mother is she?

—

"Look. It's my mom." You said and Bucky quickly put you down on the ground

He was still focused on you, until you shouted to catch your mom's attention.

"Mama!" You yelled as you started running to her

Natasha quickly turned on her heels and let out a cry of relief when she saw you.

You jumped in her arms and she hugged you so tightly, happy that you were okay, safe, and in her arms once again.

"Oh, baby. I was so scared. Please, don't do that again." She said as she kissed the side of your head

"I promise." You nodded "Some nice man helped me find you."

You turned around to point at Bucky.

But as soon as Bucky's eyes met Natasha's both adults froze in shock.

The memory of the last time they had seen each other playing in their heads.

~~~~~

*9 years ago*

"Run, my love! Run!" Bucky shouted, hitting one of the guards

"I am not going to leave you." Natasha shouted back, with tears in her eyes

"It's your only chance." He pleaded

Bucky looked at his pregnant girlfriend with sadness in his eyes. But if they wanted their baby to have a normal life, Natasha had to escape this hell hole. He was ready to sacrifice himself for his girlfriend and unborn child.

The love of his life and their baby deserved the world and he was ready to offer his life in exchange for their freedom.

"I promise we will see each other again one day, Natalia. Until then take good care of our baby and protect them like I know you will." Bucky took down another guard

"James..." Natasha cried, not wanting to leave the love of her life and the father of her child, alone

"Please, Natalia..." He breathed out

The couple could see more reinforcements coming.

It was now or never.

"I love you." Natasha said to her boyfriend

"I love you too." Bucky called back "Both of you."

With one last look at her lover, Natasha made her escape towards freedom.

You were born six months after the escape.

~~~~~

"Natalia?" Bucky cried out, not believing his eyes

"James?" Natasha breathed out in disbelief

"I found you." He laughed relieved as a few tears made their way down his cheeks

Natasha sprinted and jumped in his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist.

He helt her as close to him as he could.

The girl that was his only true love, was back in his arms again.

It was like a dream. And if it was a dream, Bucky hoped he never wake up again.

The woman pulled back and pressed her soft lips against his rough ones in a passionate, but full of emotions, kiss.

—

You just quietly watched them interact, not knowing why your mom just kissed a stranger.

"Mama?" You asked confused

Bucky gasped at the realization and Natasha smiled at the sound of your voice, pulling away from Bucky.

"Is that..." Bucky choked out, the rest of the sentence getting stuck in his throat

Natasha smiled at Bucky then climbed down of his arms and came next to you

She knelt to your level, taking your face in her hands and stroking your cheeks with her thumbs.

"Baby, remember when I told you that Papa saved Mama from the bad guys, but he couldn't save himself?" She sadly smiled at you, talking to you as if you were 3 once again

You nod your head.

"Well, he came back now." She sat up and turned to face Bucky

You were fast in hiding behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist like you used to do when you were nervous around someone new as a small child.

As on cue, Bucky fell to one knee and dumbfoundedly stared at you.

"He's Papa." Natasha pointed to the soldier "James, meet our daughter." She pushed you to come out from behind her, with tears in her eyes at the anticipation of what was about to happen

Bucky was speechless. He has a daughter. One that is a perfect copy of her mother. A little girl. A baby girl with the woman of his life.

You looked between him and your mom and found both of them crying their hearts out.

Confused and unsure of what you were supposed to do you took a shy step forward and towards Bucky.

When the soldier saw it, his eyes grew wide and his mouth hung open.

Bucky felt like his heart was racing a thousand miles a second, like it was about to jump out of his chest and run away with the speed of light. His mind still trying to process everything.

After years and years of asking himself about Natasha and their child, he finally got an answer.

After daydreaming about what they had together, a boy or a girl, on trying to picture what their baby looks like and how it grows.

Whenever his memories would come back before they wiped him again, Bucky would make false happy memories for himself.

Memories where he was with his loves.

—

After a little debate with yourself, you took a step closer to Bucky and then another and another, finally running in his open arms.

Your father lifted you in his arms, hugging you and crying, taking in your smell.

"Papa...." You whispered as soon as he put you back down on the ground, a few tears slipping away from your eyes

Bucky looked like a bolt of lightning had struck him at that moment.

"I...Bucky...Daughter...Have...You...Natalia...Baby...Ours?" Bucky mumbled in shock

You laughed at his reaction to you calling him 'papa' and turned your head to look at your mom.

She was silently crying happy tears and she had a big smile on her face seeing the two loves of her life hugging.

You motioned to her to come and join you and she didn't give this chance a second thought.

—

"My girls..." Bucky whispered, kissing the top of your and your mother's head while holding you both tight against his body

At that moment everything was peaceful and beautiful.

The perfect family reunion anyone could ask for.

You guys finally had the chance to be a family.

The family the three of you always wanted and deserved. The dream was finally a reality.

"Just wait until Steve finds out." Natasha laughed

#mama nat #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #natasha x daughter!reader #natasha's child #natasha's kid #natasha romanoff x teen!reader #natasha x teen reader #natasha x baby!reader #winterwidow #bucky barnes #buckynat #bucky barnes x daughter!reader

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arealphrooblem · 1 year

Text

Surrender Prompt Fills #1

I love the voluntary surrender prompts by @whither-wander-whump so much I decided to attempt them all. This is the first one.

- a character doing it because they have no choice. They’re too tired to run anymore. They just want to get it over with, so they hold out their hands for the chains. What else can they do?

“Quite a merry chase you’ve led me on.”

The villain stepped out from the tree-line, looking impeccable and untouchable despite their complaints.

The hero paid them no mind, keeping their gaze on the sunset blazing before them. Their last free sunset. It spilled across the sky in brilliant pinks and golds and dark blue undertones that made the hero itch to paint.

Not that they would ever paint again. They still imagined it.

“I didn’t expect you to lead me here. Do you think I won’t attack you in a public park?”

The Hero did not bother to point out that the park was empty, that the streets had been declared unsafe while the Villain relentlessly searched for the Hero. That part of the reason for this surrender was to give innocent people their lives back.

“Can you wait until it's over?” they asked instead.

The Villain gave them a dubious look, caught off guard. And no wonder — for weeks the Hero had stayed just out of their reach, pulled so many hail marys and deus ex machinas to keep their freedom. Of course they took the hero’s surrender with a grain of salt.

But then the Villain did something surprising of their own and sat down next to Hero on the old wooden park bench.

“It is especially stunning this evening,” they offered. “I can tell you’re itching to paint it. Tell me, was it worth your freedom?”

“You’re dying to know why I stopped running, aren’t you,” the Hero said, snorting.

“I do find it rather baffling how much effort you’ve spent planning and upkeeping your escape only to stop now for no discernible reason.”

“There’s a reason.”

Hero could feel the weight of the Villain’s side-eyed stare, dissecting them, trying to break them into logical pieces.

“Are you going to elaborate or are you going to keep me in suspense?” they asked.

“Will you shut up and watch the sunset?” the hero shot back.

“You don’t actually need to be quiet to watch a sunset, there’s no auditory component to —”

Hero kicked the Villain in the shin. The Villain shut up. In fact, the Villain stayed blessedly quiet as the sky slowly darkened, the brilliant fire of the sun fading into the soft hues of the night. Even as the moon glowed into view, the Villain did not initiate any capture.

“I’m tired,” they confessed to the warm, breezy night air. “I haven’t slept more than three hours a night for weeks, I barely eat. I can’t stop and enjoy anything because I’m always moving to stay one step ahead of you. I can’t do it anymore. Don’t you get tired of chasing me?”

“I didn’t at first,” the Villain replied softly. “I liked the challenge. Now it’s tedious and exhausting.” They sighed. “I don’t sleep well either.”

The Hero took one last long look at the fading horizon, the tiny pinpricks of stars twinkling into view, before turning towards the Villain with their hands held out.

“I suppose it’s time we finally got some rest” they said.

The Villain gave them a long, searching look. In fact, they looked more disturbed by the Hero’s obedience than victorious. Almost mournful.

Meanwhile, the Hero felt strangely at peace. The fear of discovery had haunted them, hunted them, a constant baying of hounds at the edge of their thoughts. But now the worst has happened. Now there was nothing to be afraid of anymore.

“Well,” the Hero prompted. “They aren’t going to put themselves on.”

The Villain twitched, as if shaking a stray thought. Then they reached into their jacket pocket for the cuffs. Made of platinum, the cuffs looked like flat, thick bracelets, but they each contained a tracker, a tiny, hypodermic needle that injected power suppressants every twelve hours, and the ability to produce an electric shock strong enough to stop a heart beat.

The Hero did not flinch when the Villain latched the cuffs onto their wrists with a reverent tenderness they certainly did not use the first time.

“If I had any other way . . .” They said haltingly. “If I didn’t need you . . .”

The unspoken promise hung in the air between them, and despite everything the Villain had put them through, the thought behind such a promise was sincerely reassuring.

“I know,” the Hero said softly.

The Villain still held onto their wrists, thumb skating back and forth over the delicate skin at the edge of the cuff.

“Perhaps I will take you to see another sunset,” they murmured. “Perhaps I will let you paint me one.”

The Hero almost believed them. “Perhaps,” they said simply, and stood up. “Let’s go.”

The Villain threw one last look at the moon, as if they too thought it was their last time, before guiding Hero out of the park with a hand on the small of their back.

#hero x villain #hero & villain #surrender prompts #my writing #writeblr #whump prompt

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defining-skyology · 2 months

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Defining Darkness.

I need to decide what I want to do here.

I could just tell you what I think the Answer (to each topic) is, and what led me to that. But instead, I want to ask as many questions as possible. If I'm alone in my echo chamber, I need to be my own worst enemy, the most thorough critic possible. I want to make this fun (for me).

So let's strip this down to the most barebones it can be, and dive into the wonderful world of Lexicology: the study of words.

Darkness.

Darkness, according to Wikipedia, is defined as:

A lack of illumination

An absence of visible light, or

or a surface that absorbs light.

Darkness is a concrete, normal concept about real life, but it has transcended beyond its immediate definition to become a steeple of powerful metaphors expressing endless bounds of human emotion.

Darkness is used to paint a picture of evils, unknowns, dangers beyond the warmth of the sun. Darkness eats the sun, holds it hostage and drains hope, love, and joy. Darkness wants, it hungers, and it schemes. It has a plan. And worst of all, it's very patient.

...at least in writing.

Darkness can mean anything a writer wants it to mean, so it can mean all of those, and it could mean none of those!

Our job as Lore theorists, is to observe what this word means to Sky, and what picture should be painted in our head when we try to understand exactly, just what 'darkness' is.

{{{Continue Reading}}}

Because to the unaware, when they first hear of a "Darkness" in Sky, their minds go to every far corner possible that I had just poetized above.

There is an inescapable tendency among fanfic writers and OC designers to relish and drool over the idea of 'the bad guy'. We are craving an antagonist, and we paint them in our thoughts the moment a crumb of content leans in that direction.

And even better than an antagonist; we are itching for an antihero. For some kind of 'opposite' side against the light. Something to represent our rebellions and battles in real life as we rage against the machine, for whatever our machines are.

"Dark" creatures, "dark" skykids, "dark" elders; a world of possibility opens up and we just can't help ourselves, not even the devs!

[Official Sky concept art by Tom Zhao]

But enough about Lexicology (the study of words (if you forgot)).

What about what we can actually see in person? (In game)

As we begin to observe the world around us, we have an immediate official Rule that every theorist seems to agree on:

If it hurts your Light, it's Darkness.

[By the way, damage to your Flame is not damage to your Light. This will someday make sense later.]

The game warns us early on to 'protect your Light', and as we travel through the realms we find creatures that attack us; creatures that the game warns in loading screens are 'dark' entities, "hungry for your light". The rainfall and sludge in wasteland are also harmful to your Light, showing that Darkness may be carried in water.

Within this rule we now have a small list of Things-That-Hurt-Us:

Forest rain

Wasteland water

Darkness crabs

Dark Dragons (Krill)

Shardfall, and Dark Shards

And for the loremoffy, that leaves them with a bunch of questions and dots to connect. Starting with the creatures on the list, we're instantly alarmed, especially as moths entering the false temple for the first time. These two 'enemies' are canonically named by quests and loading screens as 'dark' creatures. "Are they dark evil minions of the bad guy??" gasps the moth, audibly. They certainly seem evil, attacking you with no [some] hesitation. If they are 'a part of' the Darkness, then that seems to guarantee the Darkness wants/exists to attack Light.

And what of signs of 'evil' darkness that don't appear to hurt you?

Darkness plants, also canonically named so, don't hurt you, but, foreign and invasive in appearance and nature, they do seem to be uninvited guests in a land that didn't really expect them. They appear in places that are wet and dimly lit, and have been seen to trap exposed light, be that smaller creatures of Light, memories of Light (released by Shardfall or memory/spirit quests), and lastly, the spirits of Ancestors, who's shells have been cracked and exposed to the Darkness.

The plants appear to keep and store Light, mostly inside small orb-like sacs. This along with the fact that it traps Beings of Light and memories of Light, seems to show that whatever this 'Darkness' is, it doesn't 'get rid' of Light, but rather bury it, keeping it perpetually contained, encased within a strange tomb indefinitely.

More official concept art by Tom Zhao

These things are slowly and painfully choking the land, killing whatever still dares to perch on the ground. They may or may not be 'evil', but whatever they are, they're a plague, a disease. Are they what make the Dark creatures the way they are, or do Dark creatures and Dark plants all appear because of something deeper down the rabbithole?

We follow the trail of Darkness, worse and worse as we grow near its source, and find that the worst of the Darkness comes from the ruined kingdom's heart of society. Whatever Darkness is, the Ancestors obviously seem to have something to do with it. From here the lore moth can trail down a few paths. The Ancestors were either the direct cause of this Darkness, or created it by accident. It was either directly connected to whatever they were doing, or they didn't expect Darkness to be a factor at all. Regardless, we'll look at why Darkness is on another day.

But What is it?

The goal of an Answer is to be able to summarize everything you know about a subject, into a bitesize, consumable, tolerable answer. And to answer what Darkness is, after all of this blog-long research and meditation; one specific word is the Answer.

noun

noun: pollution

the presence in or introduction into the environment of a substance or thing that has harmful or poisonous effects.

Pollution is the word that matches everything we know about the way this Darkness spreads. It has been introduced into the environment by the Ancestors, and is affecting the world. Pollution contaminates and poisons, killing the world with no intent of its own, but destroying everything nonetheless. This is the perfect word for what we've seen in our journey so far.

But how does this tie back in to the beginning of this post?

We had determined that the possible definitions of Darkness ellicit:

Lack of Light

Opposite of Light

An Evil

Absorption/Burying of Light

We are beginning to find that Darkness in the world of Sky does not 'lack' Light, as it instead traps and stores Light in a perpetual sleep.

🚫 [Darkness]: a lack of Light

We have also found that, being released by the Ancestors of the ancient kingdom, Darkness is not seemingly malicious, but instead a force, a storm, almost 'natural' in its ways, with no conscious mind of its own. We cannot create a face of pollution in real life enough to visualize an antagonist we can 'defeat', unless you generalize a concept of rich old fat men. It is the same way with Darkness in Sky. It's probably not 'evil', but it's not okay.

🚫 [Darkness]: an ancient evil

But we have confirmed that it does absorb Light, which is a concrete definition of 'darkness' in the dictionary.

[Darkness]: content that absorbs Light ✅✅✅

And because of that, we've come full circle! 🎊🎉🎇

Wait, we didn't address if our Darkness is or is not synonymous with the definition "opposite of Light"...

Well, maybe it's better we hold off on that thought for now. Because in order to say it's the opposite of Light, first we have to Define what Light is. And I think its safe to say we won't get there for a while. 😅

You're crazy if you actually read all of this, but thank you so much.

I think I'm really going to enjoy making these, so long as I can make them s l i g h t l y coherent. Have a good day/night yall!

#sky children of the light #sky children of the light lore #sky cotl #sky cotl lore #sky game #sky lore #sky rambles #skychildrenofthelightlore #skychildrenofthelight #skycotl #skycotllore #skycotlstory #sky children of the light story

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meluiloth · 4 months

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LOTR Week Day 7: The Fellowship of the Ring

LOTR20 Day 7: Free Day

Summary: Frodo hosts an unexpected party. 2094 words

In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.

Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.

This particular hobbit hole had a perfectly round door with a yellow brass knob in the exact middle; it boasted a fresh coat of vivid green paint, and the decorative plants by the entrance were lush and trimmed perfectly. It was the nicest hobbit hole anyone could think of.

The inside, however, was decidedly less clean; books, papers, and maps were so plentiful that they were stacked on the floor as well as every surface, and little trinkets and knick-knacks were piled wherever they could fit, making the house look smaller than it actually was.

This was something that Sam was working very hard to remedy—he dashed determinedly from room to room like a bumblebee, trailing dust and frantically organizing everything as best he could, his face flushed red from exertion.

Frodo did not understand his mission, or the severity in which he pursued it—it was all he could do at times to stay out of Sam’s way and avoid being bowled over. “Sam, what is going on?” he exclaimed. “Is anything the matter?”

“I couldn’t tell you now, Mister Frodo,” Sam answered as he was on his way to Frodo’s office, carrying an armful of scrolls and maps. “There’s not enough time!”

“Time for what?” Frodo pressed, taking the maps out of his hands and putting them into the correct drawers. If Sam was so bent on cleaning Bag End, Frodo decided that he could at least make himself useful and help—after all, he was like Bilbo in the sense that his possessions would simply continue to pile up if he wasn’t somehow compelled to clean them—and here he was, quite literally, being spurred into action.

Sam muttered something about how ‘they could be here any moment’, which piqued Frodo’s interest; Sam rarely invited guests to Bag End, something that Frodo knew was for his sake, as he wasn’t as effervescent a host as Sam and Rosie could be (although he had told Sam many times that he was welcome to have whomever he wanted over at any time). The fact that Sam would suddenly take him up on the offer without even letting him know was curious indeed—and although Frodo asked who was coming, Sam was very tight-lipped about the whole thing.

It wasn’t until the early evening, when the sky outside was beginning to be tinged with pink and gold, that a sharp rap came from the door.

Frodo quickly shoved the last of the clutter—a banner he had received from the King of Rohan that he had nowhere to hang—into the nearest closet and rushed to open the door.

Standing there, grinning wide and carrying bowls of punch and mulled cider, were Merry and Pippin.

“Hello, Frodo!” Pippin exclaimed. “Surprised to see us?”

Frodo laughed and answered, “Well, Sam was being so secretive about all this I didn’t know who to expect! Please, come in and make yourselves at home.”

Merry and Pippin gladly obliged, setting the drinks down on the table and commenting on how nice Bag End looked.

“Must’ve taken hours,” Merry said, sitting down on one of the many plush chairs in the living room and propping his feet up on the coffee table.

“Sam did most of it,” Frodo supplied, “so it went shockingly fast. I—”

He was interrupted by another knock on the door, this time heavier. As he went to go greet the newcomer, Frodo called back to Sam: “Who else did you invite?”

Sam trotted up to the door, a bashful grin on his face. “Well, if I told you it would spoil the surprise,” he said, sharing a look with Merry and Pippin.

Frodo opened the door, and was so shocked by what he saw that he stood there for a long moment in awkward silence.

There, on the doorstep, looking quite out-of-place in the quaint town of Hobbiton, were Legolas and Gimli. Gimli was dressed in rich red robes, his beard adorned with intricate braids and beads of silver and gold, but his eyes sparkled even brighter as he let out a hearty laugh and crushed Frodo in an embrace before the hobbit could protest.

Legolas, who was too tall to fit under the doorway without crouching, was also smiling, his fine hair hanging loose about his shoulders; he was clothed less ornately than Gimli, but he looked no less ethereal with his long ears and green silk uniform.

“It’s wonderful to see you,” Frodo managed to sputter out once Gimli had released him. “I had no idea you would be coming!”

Legolas laughed. “Your friend thought it best to keep it a surprise for you,” he explained. “May we come in?”

“Of course,” Frodo said, stepping aside so the Dwarf and the Elf could enter. Legolas still stooped a little, but Gimli was quick in complimenting the size of Frodo’s home.

“It’s just like my father said it was,” he said, “Only cleaner!”

This made Frodo laugh—Bilbo always was a bit of a magpie, and he had never changed in his ways, only passed his habits on to Frodo. “Please, help yourself to anything in the pantry,” he said, opening the door for them; to his credit, he always kept the pantry well-stocked with every type of delicacy and meal, though he rarely entertained guests.

Legolas and Gimli thanked him, setting their own contributions beside the punch: a delicious-looking loaf of bread, speckled with cranberries and orange peels, along with a crate of Dorwinion wine from Legolas, and a whole haunch of roast venison dripping with spiced juice from Gimli.

“Who else is coming?” Frodo asked. He suspected at least Gandalf was on his way.

Sam grinned. “Oh, we’re expecting two more,” he said.

Merry emerged from the pantry, carrying a sticky bun in each hand, and pointed out the window. “There they are now,” he announced.

Frodo went to look for himself, and saw that two people were making their way up the path; he could not tell their faces in the fading light, but he knew one of them was Gandalf by the white robes and tall pointed hat he wore.

When the two of them arrived at Bag End, Frodo was already waiting for them; it was indeed Gandalf, looking older and more wizened than when Frodo had last seen him, carrying a satchel instead of a staff. “My dear Frodo,” he said, putting a hand on the hobbit’s shoulder. “It is good to see you.”

“And you, Gandalf,” Frodo answered with a smile, placing his hand on Gandalf’s. “What a happy surprise!” He turned to look at his companion, and encountered another shock when he saw it was none other than Aragorn, King of Gondor—though he had exchanged his regal crown for a blue velvet hood, and his robes appeared more comfortable than kingly. “Strider,” he greeted.

“Master Underhill,” Aragorn replied, a jovial glint in his eye. “It is a privilege to be here.”

“The privilege is mine,” Frodo said, waving them both into his home. The gentle sound of voices had filled the hall, a welcome change from its usual silence; the others had gathered in the living room, enjoying glasses of punch and sweets. When they saw Aragorn and Gandalf, they all cheered with delight.

“Now our Fellowship is complete,” Legolas said, smiling. “You look older, my friend,” he said to Aragorn.

“Only a year, wiseacre,” Aragorn protested. “Raising an infant and ruling a nation is no easy feat.”

Gimli laughed and chimed in with, “Aye, and a feat I’m glad I’m not required to perform—the Elf and I have spent this past year traveling!”

“We haven’t,” Merry added. “I don’t think I’ll ever take a step out of the Shire again—not even to raid Farmer Maggot’s crops!”

Frodo snorted as he lit the candles on the table. “Not that you would ever have to, being filthy rich,” he said with a grin. Merry shrugged his shoulders affably and laughed with the rest.

“We’re ready to eat, I believe,” Sam called out. He had set the table magnificently, and soon everyone had taken their place around the table. There was one empty seat beside Aragorn, for the ninth member of the Fellowship who was no longer there.

They spent the whole evening laughing and sharing stories of how their lives had been this past year, and even some tales of their time in the Fellowship; Sam was eager to tell everyone that his wife was expecting their first child sometime in the coming Spring.

After a while, Frodo began to fall a little quiet, his energy running low from the excitement; he swirled the wine in his glass idly, his eyes sometimes falling on the stump that used to be his third finger.

He sometimes wondered how his life might have been, if he had not stood up in that Council and took the burden of the Ring upon himself, or even if Bilbo had never found it in the Mountains. Would he have been so haunted, so weary, so odd? Would the people of Hobbiton have whispered about his slipping sanity, or would they have praised him as the life of any party?

Perhaps he still would have been quiet and reserved; part of him knew that he would never have met the magnificent and wonderful men sitting around him, that he would never have formed these bonds.

But was it all worth it?

“Mister Frodo?” Sam’s quiet voice interrupted Frodo’s wandering thoughts and brought him back to himself; his brown eyes were filled with concern. “You look tired… are you ill? Is it…” His eyes slid downwards and he gestured to Frodo’s shoulder.

Frodo managed a smile. “No, Sam. I’m all right. Just a little worn down.”

“Do you want me to tell everyone to leave?” Sam asked.

Frodo shook his head. “No… I’ll be fine. I’ll just probably go to bed soon, if that’s all right; I’ll be well in the morning to say goodbye.”

He began to stand up, but he caught everyone’s eyes on him; they were watching with a mixture of reverence, love, and pity, just like Sam—Gandalf especially.

Frodo’s cheeks began to heat, and he felt bad for wanting to leave without saying farewell. So, he turned to face them all, looking into their eyes; Sam’s warm with compassion, Merry and Pippin with affection and joy, Gimli and Legolas with excitement, Aragorn with nobility, Gandalf with peace and the same weariness that Frodo felt.

“My dear friends,” he said. “I am honored to have you all with me.” He paused. “It makes… it makes celebrating what we have done worth it, in a way; the Enemy has been defeated, and thousands of lives have been saved because of us, but I know that we all have suffered through our quest. Some of us…” his eyes fell upon the empty seat, “...Some of us have even lost their lives fighting for this peace. But what makes it all worth it is the true peace that came with our struggle. There were people we loved who deserve the best parts of the world, and to live without fear. I took the Ring because I knew that, even if I did not come back alive from our quest… at least those who would come after us would be able to live freely. And now the world has been saved, and…” And I’m very tired, thought some part of him. The world is bright for everyone but me. “And I am so glad to know that all of us are living richer lives because of it,” he ended, quietly. “It has been such a privilege to have you all here.”

He dipped his head to the company, who were all silent with emotion; Gimli was brushing tears out of his beard, and Merry and Pippin were smiling past the glassiness in their own eyes.

Merry stood up and lifted his glass of wine. “To Frodo,” he announced.

The rest of the Fellowship stood also, repeating the gesture. “To Frodo!”

As they all finished their glasses and laughed with each other, Frodo drank the rest of his wine and said, quietly, “To the Fellowship of the Ring.”

Well, I'm so proud to have finished LOTR Week 2023!! It's been so wonderful and fun, and also challenging as a person who starts projects and has a difficult time finishing them. I loved each of these stories, and I'm so glad you did too!

Thank you so much for your kind words and support of my writing, and I'm so happy to have been able to participate in this lovely challenge with so many other talented writers, artists, and aesthetic makers! Thank you to @lotr20 for hosting this challenge, it's been so fun!!

Taglist:

@lotr20, @frodothefair, @kylobith, @konartiste, @acornsandoaktrees, @kylobith, @from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras, @lanthanum12

#lord of the rings #fanfic #lotrweek #my writing #lotr20 #aragorn #frodo #samwise gamgee #merry and pippin #gimli son of gloin #legolas greenleaf #gandalf #the fellowship of the ring #fandom event

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