#it also looks too far back but that's apparently subjective | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 9 months

Text

Infected

Miguel O'Hara X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info

Summary: An accident at one of Alchemax’s labs has led to Miguel being briefly contaminated with cA1m - a prototype drug that is meant to calm animals. However it seems to have a very different effect in humans.

A/N: A massive thank you to @midgardian-witch for reading the beginning of this (catching a hilarious typo), making some excellent suggestions, and reassuring me that I hadn’t just lost my mind completely (yet).

Reader doesn’t know Miguel’s spiderman.

Warnings: dubious consent - it’s basically a sex pollen fic, blood, hair pulling (can I write a fic without an Oscar Isaac character getting their hair pulled?), so much cum, hand job, oral (both m and f receiving), things get a little rough, face fucking, cum eating, biting, scratching, p in v sex, typos, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!

Word Count: 5433

________________________________

“It’s mainly preliminary.” You said with a smile. “You weren’t in the room, but the filtration system links four of the labs.”

You check over Miguel’s notes, so far, he didn’t have any symptoms.

There had been an ‘accident’ in Lab B2, an accident that was being rapidly looked into. Lab B1, and B4 had been empty, but Miguel had been in B3.

Miguel was currently in a rapidly repurposed testing room, sitting on the bed with his shirt rolled up his forearms. His specific request for somewhere with reinforced walls, doors and windows had been… unusual. But he was a big guy, couldn’t hurt to be too careful.

“How are the others doing?” He asked with a slightly raised eyebrow.

“Okay,” you nodded. There had been eight people in Lab B2 when the container had broken. Two people, like Miguel, weren’t showing any symptoms.

The chemical compound, nicknamed cA1m, while liquid in its storage unit, turned to a gas at above zero degrees. Luckily it also denatured quickly, and there was a good chance that those who still weren’t showing symptoms were unaffected.

The chemical’s intention was for a more humane way to calm wild animals and livestock during veterinary checks. That way the animal in question didn’t need potentially dangerous anaesthetic for basic to mild level medical care.

It also wore off in 24 hours.

However, it still needed some work. And while early tests had gone well, apparently it did not have the desired effect in humans.

Four of the six infected had gone feral, absolutely crazy with rage, trying to kill and destroy everything and everyone within their reach.

Luckily no one had been severely injured before they had been tranquilised.

The other two were different, they had… other urges.

“Have you found any links as to why Doctor Guerrero and Doctor Vaughan didn’t react like the others?” Miguel asks. His voice was calm and controlled, like it always was. Politely interested, like he was listening to a presentation about your latest control data.

“Well, I have an idea. Though I haven’t fully proven it yet.”

He tilted his head to the side in a silent question. The action was endearing, it made your heart flutter and heat rise to your skin. And you hated it so, so much.

You smiled quickly and looked down, trying to cover the fact you’d been staring at him for a second too long.

“So,” you continued, drawing the word out a little to give you a pause of breathing room. “Both Guerrero and Vaughan are in relationships, both of them wanted to,” you pause for a moment, trying to find the most professional way to phrase it. “get to their partners. Unlike the others they also had a massively increased level of oxytocin.”

“Your theory is that that cA1m causes a berserk level of rage unless the subject is in love?” There was the smallest smirk on his lips.

It sounded stupid when he put it like that.

“Well… yes.” You fold your arms. “Look, Miguel,” he grinned when you said his name and you fought, and lost, the urge to smile back. “I’ve had fourteen hours and six people to base this off, plus three who are showing no symptoms. Give me a break, yeah?”

He held up his hands playfully. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You gave me a look.”

“What look?” He teased.

“I know you want to be trying to figure this out yourself, but you’re the one who insisted on not being allowed any breakable, or expensive, equipment while you’re in here.”

He smiled. “It’s true.” His gaze was heavy, crushing almost.

You shook your head and turned to the side table. “Anyway, are you gonna let me draw some blood or what?”

He nodded and held his arm out to you.

You know why you had been ‘nominated’ (begged) to be the one to see Miguel. He wasn’t the easiest CEO to work for in the sense that he was both physically and mentally intimidating, but what usually threw most people was that he was quiet, tended to watch and listen.

And he had a bit of resting bitch face.

But he was actually pretty pleasant to talk to when you got to know him.

You brushed your arm against his as you moved to get your equipment. Miguel audibly gasped.

A flash of worry pinched at your mind, you turned to look at him. “You okay?”

Miguel nodded; he was staring straight ahead at the wall. Obviously in distress.

“Miguel?” This wasn’t the same as those who had suddenly developed into a full-blown rage, but still you couldn’t help the sense of apprehension that crawled along your skin. You glanced at the sedative on the side table and shook your head.

“Miguel?” You spoke again, a little softer and moved a step closer towards him.

He shuddered at your voice, screwing his eyes up tightly. Sweat was beading on his forehead, heat rolling off him in waves.

“Miguel, I’m gonna-”

He moved faster than you could comprehend, one second he was sitting on the bed and the next he was looming over you, his hands clenched tightly around your biceps, and forcing you back.

You yelped as he pressed you into the wall, grabbing hold of his forearms.

His eyes were dark and wild, brimming with a terrifying energy.

“Miguel, wh-”

He crashed his lips into yours, swallowing down your words and slipping his tongue into your mouth frantically. It took you a fragment of a second to react, surprise freezing your limbs solid.

Miguel took your delay to his advantage, pushing his knee between your legs and pressing close. Not leaving a fraction of space between you as he devoured your mouth. Stealing your breath and igniting heat along your veins.

“Miguel,” you managed to push him back, the heels of your hands in his chest. This was the cA1m affecting him, it was the only explanation. Maybe the filtration system had diluted the chemical and caused a delayed reaction. “You need to-”

He snarled, his eyes pinpoint focused on you as he leaned forward and kissed you, hard. All tongue and sharp teeth as he wrapped his fingers around the back of your neck and gripped your thigh bruisingly tight, hitching it high on his hip.

You’d had dreams like this, fantasies, where he pinned you to the wall and kissed you until you couldn’t breathe. But you couldn’t do this, you couldn’t take advantage of him like this-

There was a sharp pinch of pain as Miguel sank his teeth into your bottom lip. You let out a small squeak of surprise, pulling away from him. And raised your hand to your mouth, your fingers coming back red.

Miguel, however, seemed unphased as he trailed kisses along your neck, smearing your blood along your skin. He ground his hips into yours, rocking back and forth and- oh god, he was big, just like the rest of him.

“Miguel, you need to,” you swallowed down a whimper as he sucked at your pulse point, just managing to resist the urge to hold him closer, to run your hands through his hair. “It’s the cA1m, you’re not thinking straight.”

He murmured something into your neck, his mouth not leaving your skin far enough for the words to be intelligible.

“Miguel-” You gasped as he nipped at your throat, not enough to break the skin this time.

Heat was burning from his skin, scorching into your body like you were too close to a flame.

You grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back a fraction too forcefully. You thought the brief pain might snap him out of it, give him a second of clarity. But as his chin tilted upwards, exposing his neck, he let out a long groan, his eyes squeezed shut.

It went straight to your core, your thighs clenching at the sound.

“Need you so bad, shit,” he rocked against you harder, pressing his length right up against your centre. “Always need you, you don’t understand,” he moaned and buried his head back into your neck, despite your grip on his hair, and sucked a love bite into your skin.

This time you couldn’t resist the urge. You sunk your fingers deeper, scratching your nails along his scalp and pulled him closer, pushing his face in your neck.

Miguel groaned appreciatively, digging his sharp nails into your shoulders. He nipped just below your ear, the keen, yet sweet little sting of pain blended with the slow and steady roll of his hips was simply tortuous. Almost enough to make you lose all common sense.

Almost.

You couldn’t do this, you couldn’t do this, you just couldn’t do this.

“Miguel-”

He whined as you said his name.

And you had to bite your lips together in order to hold onto your fading self respect.

“On the table,” you swallowed, trying to get your words out quickly, “there’s a sedative. It’ll help, it’ll-”

“You’ll help, being near you helps.” He mumbles, the words barely audible. He snakes his fingers along your ribs, just teasing the hem of your shirt.

“We just need to-oh!”

Miguel grabs hold of your shirt and pulls, ripping it open, buttons pinging off and going flying. Honestly, there’s less resistance from the material than you expected.

And then he's everywhere, his face buried in your chest, kissing the tops of your breasts as his fingers pinch at your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra.

You can't stop the moan of surprise that escapes your lips as you arch into his touch.

You had to stop this, now. Before he did something you'd very much enjoy and he'd very much regret.

"Fuck," you hiss under your breath and act quickly, trying not to overthink and get yourself caught up.

Maybe if he… had some relief you could grab the sedative in the afterglow. Hell, maybe he wouldn't even need the sedative if he came once.

Before you can lose your nerve you quickly unbuckled his trousers and managed to squeeze your hand under the material despite Miguel's frenzied mind trying to keep the physical space separating you both to a minimum.

He gasps as you touch him, letting out a choked sob that your brain was already committing to memory and filing under 'for use later'.

The velvety soft skin was rock hard and burning hot against your hand. So big that you couldn't even get your fingers fully round his girth.

"Please." He muttered, pressing his forehead against yours, his hands resting tightly on your waist.

His eyes were screwed shut, his mouth slightly open and when you moved your hand, the smallest upwards movement. He let out the sweetest sigh.

You bite your lip and wince as you catch the broken skin, but it doesn’t stop you from tracing your thumb over the tip of him, smearing precome along the head. You were trying to be quick, methodical, clinical, as you began to stroke him, setting an even pace. This was just a problem to solve. You should not be enjoying this.

But every glide of your hand, every touch, made Miguel gasp and moan as if it was the first time he’d ever experienced such sensations, made him bite his lip with his sharp (had they always been that sharp?) teeth, and it was intoxicating.

He pistoned his hips into your touch, thrusting faster and faster, and practically growling as he grew closer to his release.

You couldn’t help but watch him, enraptured, as heat pooled in your lower stomach, your own need growing. But this wasn’t about you.

Still, you couldn’t help yourself rocking back and forth against his leg ever so slightly to just take the edge off.

Miguel grunted, his eyes rolling back in his head, and there was a sharp pinch of pain as he tightened his grip on your waist, his nails digging in much harder than they surely should have been able to.

He swore under his breath as he cums, twitching under your touch, and coating your hand and stomach with his release.

There’s so much of it, far more than there should be as he cums and cums, gasping for air. Another side effect of the cA1m - perhaps you’d be annoyed as his release soaks into your ruined shirt if the sight of him reaching his peak wasn’t exhilarating.

You let go of him quickly, managing to disentangle yourself from him, despite Miguel low, exhausted whine of protest.

God, how were you going to get a new shirt without running into someone? And, you realised, probably a new pair of trousers too. Miguel’s spend had run down and soaked into the left side.

You grabbed the sedative from the side table. Your mind already racing, it wasn’t Miguel’s fault but would he remember? Would he be awkward with you now? Would your little chats and jokes stop? You swallowed down a pang of fear and turned. Now wasn’t the time for what ifs you-

Miguel grabbed your arms and you squeaked in surprise. How could he move so silently? His eyes were dark, hooded with lust, his trousers just hanging from his hips and… well, obviously so much for the idea that him cumming once would be enough.

“I need you.” He growled, his voice so low that you almost felt light headed. “I know you want me too, I can smell it.” He leaned forward scraping his teeth over your pulse point, and for a shameful moment you let yourself get caught up again, allowed yourself to revel in the sensation for the smallest second.

While he was distracted you pushed the needle into his upper arm, through his shirt, and injected the sedative.

It shouldn't take long.

He growled, pulling his mouth away from your neck to stare dangerously into your eyes.

You swallowed. A spike of fear dug into the base of your skull, some ancient urge telling you to run.

“It’s okay,” you said soothingly, unsure if you were really talking to Miguel or yourself. “It’s just the sedative.” You pulled the needle out of his arm. “You’ll be fine, let’s lay you down so-”

He kissed you hungrily, harsh and demanding as he forced his tongue into your mouth.

You allowed yourself to kiss him back the smallest amount as you waited for the sedative to work.

And waited… And waited…

Oh, no, just no, this wasn’t right, this couldn’t be right. There was more than enough in the injection to knock him out and yet he didn’t show any signs of slowing down.

Okay, so, this definitely wasn’t how it went with the others.

You side step, trying to twist past him and break his hold all in one movement. Maybe you could get to the door, maybe you could do… something. Your mind raced, there had to be a way to fix this, to help him, to be useful.

The side step didn’t work, Miguel’s grip was too tight, and you stumbled, skidding around and to your knees. The edge of the bed thumped into your back.

You gasp, gulp and stare up at him. That spike of fear dragging itself down your spine.

He growls and moves closer, his length bobbing and perfectly at your eye level. His gaze is dark and desperate, his bottom lip pinched between his teeth. You could see his pulse thundering in his neck, echoing along the length of his dick.

Rapid heartbeat was one of the side effects all the others had experienced, the sedative being the only thing that had managed to return it to a normaler level.

Maybe there was only one way you could be useful.

Miguel shifts his weight, preparing to move, but you lean forward first and run your tongue along the length of him.

A deep moan rumbles in his chest as you touch him, a gasp of breath. The sound floods heat to your core.

You wrap your lips around the tip, grabbing hold of his hips to pull him closer as you swallow as much of him as you can. You bob your head, encouraging him to move with you and there is a moment where you can feel the tension in his muscles, the strain in his thighs as he tries to hold back, to keep himself in check.

It doesn’t last long.

He snarls and thrusts forward, snapping his hips and nearly choking you. You splutter, trying to breathe through your nose but Miguel doesn’t give you a second to recover. He pushes forward, the back of your head slamming against the edge of the bed as he plunges deeper and deeper into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat with ease and still not even half way in.

Your grip on his hips tightens and you don’t know if you’re trying to pull him away or urging him on.

It burns, the size of him makes your jaw ache, tears roll down the sides of your cheeks from the force of his relentless thrusts.

His hands dig into the mattress by the side of you head, tearing into the fabric as he pounds into you, fucking your mouth with everything he’s got.

He groans, “yes, baby, yes,” his voice low and barely distinguishable as words.

You do your best to just hold on, to breathe and take as much as you can. The sounds of his moans filling your ears and mind, and god, how you wished you didn’t have a gag reflex and could take him deeper.

He keeps ramming into your mouth, snapping his hips against you with a frenzied energy and you push against his lower back, silently begging him to keep going.

Your neck throbs from discomfort, bruising forming where the skin is repeatedly hitting against the hard outline of the bed frame. Your knees burn from where they continuously rub against the floor with every buck and thrust.

Miguel lets out a short, animalistic cry as he cums down your throat suddenly. You moan against him, trying to swallow all of it but there’s just so, so much. It spills out of the side of your mouth and down your chin despite your best efforts.

He leans forward, breathing hard, his cock still in your mouth. And for a second you think this is it, the sedative will take hold or maybe this mindless lust has come to an end.

But he’s still hard when he pulls himself out of your mouth, his eyes still glazed over with the same madness when he looks down at you. He runs his hand over your chin, the pads of his fingers slightly sharp, and collects some of his spend that hasn’t trickled down your neck and onto your torn shirt and bra. Another item of clothing you’d need to change.

He smears his cum along your cheek, the movement possessive, like he was marking his territory.

There’s a pause, the lull in the eye of the storm before he pulls you up from the ground with a shocking display of strength, moving as if you were no heavier than a glass of water he was eager to drink down.

You can’t help the little yelp of surprise that escapes you as he practically throws you onto the bed, your back hitting the mattress and momentarily knocking the air out of your lungs.

But then he’s on top of you, pressing himself firmly between your legs as he growls and snaps his teeth close to your neck. He bites at your throat, hard enough to break the skin and you cry out as the pain quickly disappears into pleasure.

Your mewls only make his actions more frenzied as he tears your clothes completely off you with a speed that makes your head spin, before removing his own. The material rips so easily, as if he used a blade.

He runs his tongue along your chest, messily cleaning up the cum he’d spilt along you just moments before.

“Miguel-” You try to start, but then his mouth is back on yours, tasting like salt and iron as he drinks down your words to leave you breathless.

You gasp as he breaks away, trailing sloppy kisses down your body, his fingers running over your skin and leaving scratches. He bites your hip partially deeply and you keen, arching up into him as he moans.

“Your so fucking sweet.” He mutters before kissing lower and lower and, oh god. You nearly scream as his lips wrap around your clit and he sucks hard. Pleasure coils tight in your belly as a new wave of wetness leaks out and soaks into the torn up sheets beneath you.

His fingers dig into your thighs as he pushes his face into you, only breaking away so that he can lick through your folds hungrily, devouring you like a starving animal.

“Miguel!” You whine, letting out a series of high pitch moans that sound alien even to your own ears.

He sucks your clit once more, his teeth just grazing across it before he snarls and pulls away, pushing the back of your thighs and pressing them against your chest with a crushing strength.

You struggle to take a breath, barely filling your lungs before he’s thrusting into you with a guttural groan and a sharp snap of his hips.

The size of him hurts, it’s too much, too fast and you gasp in pain. You clench your jaw, your eyes screwing up as your hands fly to his shoulders, trying to push him back even though you know it’s no use against his strength.

But he stops instantly, stilling his movements.

You stare up at him in surprise. His eyes are still dark but there’s something else there, something pushing through that lust haze.

“Pain?” He whispers, sounding the most like his old self that he has since this ordeal began.

You swallow and nod, tears building at the corners of your eyes.

He slowly loosens his grip around your thighs, letting go shakily as if it is taking a lot of self control to do so. And while he doesn’t pull out, he doesn’t thrust in deeper either.

Carefully, he manoeuvres your legs down onto the bed either side of him, watching your face for any sign of increased discomfort. It’s only then that he looks down to where you’re joined, completely split open with only a quarter of his length inside.

He groans lows and you brace yourself for a brutal thrust that never comes. Instead he keeps his hips still as he slowly trails his sharp nails down your stomach, teasing the very edge of your clit before pressing his thumb against it fully.

A small moan escapes you and you clench down instinctively. Miguel hums in approval and starts to slowly circle the bundle of nerves, the touch light and soft as he just borders on the edge of losing control.

The pain starts to dissipate quickly, replaced with a steady continuous build of that deep need from before. You start to squirm. The pressure of his thumb isn’t enough and you rock your hips ever so slightly, your breathing hitching in your throat.

"More?" He whispers.

You nod your head rapidly.

“Thank god.” Miguel sighs, the words mumbled like a prayer almost too quietly for you to hear, and lets some of his weakening control slip.

Slowly he pushes further in, the tension shaking in his thighs as he fights with every instinct to pound you into the mattress and turn you into a crying mess beneath him.

He keeps circling your clit, groaning as feels a fresh wave of wetness leaking out of you.

You moan, grabbing hold of his shoulders. But this time you pull him towards you, urging him deeper. God, he’s big. Already it’s like you can feel him in your throat.

The stretch burns, but it’s good, it feels right. Like he is going to reach a whole new devastating part of you. Make you cum so hard that he’ll ruin any other sexual partner for good.

You hook your left leg on his hip and squeeze your calf over his lower back, encouraging him closer, deeper. While you plant your right foot firmly against the bed to rock up against him.

Miguel groans, his eyes closed. His movements on your clit falter as he slides further in.

There’s a sharp pain in your hip where his left hand holds you tight, his nails (it had to be his nails) dug in so deep that they broke your skin.

You let out a soft whine, clenching around his girth as he presses up against you perfectly and still pushes further in. The pleasure in your stomach tightening and starting to completely overwhelm all other thoughts, urging you to just chase your release.

Tears prick again at the corners of your eyes, a soft emotion beating hard in your chest. And you can’t help yourself, you grab hold of the back of Miguel’s neck, pulling him down towards you and arching up at the same time to kiss him hungrily.

He moans into your mouth, pushing back against you and forcing you into the mattress. His hips snap forward, finally sheathing himself completely in your tight, wet heat.

For a moment it’s like you can’t breathe, so completely full that not even air can enter.

Miguel stills, giving you a moment to adjust as he licks into your mouth and groans as your walls squeeze around his length. His pubis bone presses firmly against your clit, and you can feel the echo of his racing heart beat along his skin.

He breaks the kiss to breathe hard, his eyes closed and forehead pressed against yours. “I can’t… I need to…”

“Please,” you answer desperately, kissing him softly as you start to rock your hips ever so slightly.

Miguel lets out a whine, his eyebrows pinched together in bliss and the expression alone is nearly enough to make you cum on the spot.

“Can’t stop,” he mutters and you're not even sure if he’s aware of what he’s saying anymore as he grabs your wrists in either of his hands and pins them to the bed. “Feels so…” He ruts into you, pulling out so that just the tip of his cock stays inside before slamming back into you. “Fuck. So. Fucking. Tight.”

You wail under him as pleasure runs up your spine and down your legs as he punctuates every thrust with an upwards rock of his hips, continuously rubbing against your clit and pressing the head of his length to that perfect spot inside.

“So. Fucking. Wet.” He growls. His nails are slicing into your wrists, but you don’t care. Can’t care, you’ve lost all ability to feel anything but the glide of his cock and the heady build of your orgasm.

“So. Mine.” He growls and bites down hard on your neck. You cry out, the brutal pace of his hips only increasing, bringing you closer and closer and-

You gasp, his name catching in your throat as you finally cum. Every muscle shaking as it crashes over you in waves.

Miguel tears his mouth away from your neck, blood shining on his lips as he watches you come undone. He moans, his thrusts not faltering for a second.

“That’s it, cum all over me,” he glances down for a moment watching himself disappearing into you, amazed at how well you’re taking him, how tightly your walls are griping him, trying to milk him for all he’s worth. “Squeezing me so tight, oh shit-”

He cums loudly, still pistoning in and out of you as he fills you up with his release. There’s still so much of it, some leaks out, spilling out of your abused hole and sticking to your thighs.

You breathe deeply, your mind foggy from how hard you came. Your legs ache from being stretched so wide, your pussy throbs from overstimulation.

Miguel doesn’t stop, still rock hard and trusting. Pushing his cum deeper into you.

“Miguel,” you whine, your throat raw.

“I can’t-” he bites his lip, “I can’t stop, I need to, fuck, please, I need to-”

You kiss his neck, biting harder than you normally would at his jugular. He whines, the sound going straight to your core. Heat starts to build again.

“Keep going,” you mutter against his skin. “Keep going as long as you need to.”

You wake up sore and sticky. Aching and in pain. Even the slightest movement brings out an array of discomfort. Every muscle throbs, like you had done a year's worth of exercise in one day, and all the bites and scratches sting as you shift, the scrapes making you feel like someone had tossed you naked into a bush of brambles and thorns.

It takes you a moment to remember where you are, the tiredness in your bones trying to coax you back to sleep.

“I’m sorry.”

Miguel’s voice makes you jump. He’s still close to you, laying on his side with his chest pressed up against your back. One arm around your waist. There’s tension there, you know he wants to move away but is scared to move at the same time.

His cock is pressed against your backside, soft and sated.

You turn to look at him, too tired to worry about your nakedness. Besides, he had seen plenty of it anyway.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

He scoffs. His mouth pressed into a thin line as he looks down.

It’s only then as you turn around completely to look at him that you see tears in his eyes. “Miguel?”

You softly touch his cheek but he flinches away from you. The action spikes through your heart. He can’t even look at you now.

“I’ve got everything to be sorry for, I, I took advantage of you, I rap-”

“No, no, no, no,” you can’t help but touch him again, putting your hand back on his cheek and rubbing your thumb soothingly across his skin.

This time he leans into it, letting out the smallest, shaky breath.

“You were infected, Miguel, you couldn’t control yourself. I don’t know how much you remember but the sedative didn’t work, and your heart rate was just, I mean, it was crazy high. And, if anything, I was the one that took advantage of you and-”

His eyes snap open. “You? You took advantage of me?” He says disbelievingly. “Look at you.” He touches the bite marks on your neck gently.

You give him a little smile. “I don’t mind.”

He breathes out another shaky breath, but there’s a hint of a smile. “You don’t mind?”

You shake your head. “Happy to help.”

He chuckles a little at that and nods as he runs a hand through his hair.

There’s a pause, a silence that you can’t stand.

“I guess I was wrong.”

Miguel frowns a little, confused.

“My theory, about people having that reaction if they’re in love, I mean.”

There’s a pause, the only sound a little gulp as Miguel swallows. Something passes over his face for a second, a faint trace of heat rising to his skin.

Oh. Maybe you weren’t wrong.

“Miguel?”

He breathes deeply, looking down. “I-”

You don’t give him a chance to finish, letting your adrenaline overwhelm you as you quickly lean forward and press your lips to his. Hoping against hope that you weren’t misreading the situation.

He’s caught by surprise for a moment, but moans happily and softly kisses you back as his arm wraps around you and pulls you close.

The kiss is slow and gentle, languid and sweet. It makes your stomach drop like you were falling from a great height. His embrace the only thing keeping you safe.

He runs his tongue over your bottom lip lightly, careful of the cuts, but licks into your mouth hungrily the second you part your lips. It’s not the same lustful need from before, this is deeper, sharper and desperate in a different way. As if after devouring your body he now needed to devour your soul.

He kisses you again, lightly before you both pull back for a second. He grins at you, a little shyly and you smile as you stroke his cheek.

“You weren’t wrong.” He muttered.

You frown and shake your head, confused.

He chuckles and kisses you again. “Your theory about love.”

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @whatthefishh @mbakubabe @solobagginses @romanarose @saturn-rings-writes

2K notes · View notes

radiance1 · 6 months

Text

Feral Bruce Wayne clone meets scared ghost child locked under max security.

You see, this clone is technically about a probable three months old, but is physically an 18-year-old. Why was he made? His creators wished to test and perfect their cloning technology before moving onto their prime subject, as for how they acquired the DNA of a Bruce Wayne he'd never know.

For some odd, odd reason, he had a plethora of fighting skills under his belt ingrained in his muscles, only really held back by his mind that didn't know how to use said skills to their highest degree. But it was apparently enough to break free, steal their most prized 'material' from under their nose, and escape.

They should've just got good tbh.

So now he had a kid (who was actually older than him) under his belt that he decides to take care of. Said kid was pretty good at making things, didn't want to go outside, or interact with other people if he could help it when they decided to occupy a warehouse they managed to buy for cheap (Cough, cough, Reuben may or may not have threatened them, slightly.) and it was up to Reuben to acquire both money and items to renovate the warehouse.

Fun.

Easy way to get money? Rob people. Easy way to get money without making his... friend? Judge him is to rob people who tried to rob him first.

Isn't much, but it is easy money.

That, and a lot of odd jobs here and there, usually goes out wearing a mask to hide his face. Really only to hide from his creators if they ever decided to go looking for him and, let's face it, he literally stole their most prized subject without their knowledge, of course they're looking for him.

Unfortunately for him, while his fighting skills are top-notch, his judgement getting better from the number of fights he partakes in. His emotional understanding and social skills are basically almost null and void, so most of his interactions with everyone- especially Danny, is pretty awkward when he isn't threatening people.

And he would never threaten Danny.

Anywho, he's been racking in a steady flow of cash, then got himself involved in an underground fighting ring and, well, it just expanded from there, with his being regarded as a 'Dark Horse' (whatever that is) and then quickly overthrowing the champion and becoming a good undefeated so far.

At least he now has money to buy furniture, food, clothes, and parts for whenever Danny got a bit too twitchy so he can build whatever his heart desires. Best thing about the underground fighting ring? They don't give a shit about what kind of weapon he brings, or if he has armor.

And lucky for him, he has himself a little genius who would very willingly make him such things while also being his test subject for them.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover

993 notes · View notes

radicalbilly · 2 years

Text

Friends Support Friends

pairing: Billy Hargrove x reader

summary: Now Billy may not have many friends but he’s never going to let his best friend suffer from a subpar experience.

word count: 3,060

a/n: NSFW CONTENT also dirty words i have never used before on this account also my second attempt at real smut. apparently i had many thoughts and i’m hoping this knocks me out of my rut. + Best Friends Too

warnings: 18+ nsfw content, oral f!receiving, fingering f!receiving, 18+ language, smut seriously i will fight any minor who looks at this

If anyone were to ask, the answer would be “no, Billy Hargrove was not nosy”.

He was simply curious and maybe a bit hungry. And that was why he was digging through his best friend’s dresser drawers, no other reason.

He knew you hid candy around your room, well, he guessed that you still did because as far as he knew what girl didn’t have a stash of candy? And he also remembered you saying something about it one time when the two of you had hung out.

Billy flicked through a few pairs of your underwear, humming lightly in approval when he saw anything that was skimpy or had lace, even a few of the cotton options were piquing his interest.

He honestly was surprised that these were what you were hiding under your t-shirts and jeans, and, maybe, he was a curious to see what they looked like when you were wearing them.

Billy began to pocket a black pair, the intricate floral design in the lace catching his attention.

“What in the hell are you doing, Hargrove?” He didn’t even bother looking shameful, even when you stalked over and pulled your panties from his front pocket, tossing them back into your drawer.

“Nice pajamas you’ve got there, you big tease.” He laughed after rolling his eyes, he knew exactly where to find those panties when he wanted them again. He took hold of the fabric you were wearing and rubbed it between his fingers, he liked the softness of the silk. He let it fall when you pulled away.

“Okay, then,” he changed the subject, “where are your snacks?”

“My beside drawer, if there’s any left, you jackass,” you replied replied with a chuckle. You splayed out across the end of your bed and flipped through the channels on your television, “Why would I hide snacks in my underwear drawer anyway?”

Billy stopped before opening your nightstand, his fingers dancing over the handle, “That’s where I hide my stuff. My cigarettes, money, condoms-“

The word condoms immediately sent you on high alert, remembering what you else you hid in your bedside drawer.

“Oh, shit! Billy, wait!”

You were too late, Billy’s eyes immediately zeroed in and the most devilish grin you’d ever seen on him began to settle on his pretty face. You were mortified, face heating all the way to your ears as you watched him pull the light purple vibrator out of the drawer.

“Now, what’s this?” Billy hummed in delight, eyebrows raising suggestively. He flopped onto the bed, pulling himself to sit cross-legged and hover over you. With the vibrator dangling right in front of your face, a smirk graced his face in response to your scowl.

You snatched the offending item from his hand and shoved his shoulder. Billy was caught off guard, succumbing easily when you moved to straddle his waist. You leaned over to put the vibrator back into the drawer and pulled out a bag of Charleston Chews, shoving them against Billy’s chest. You moved from your spot, choosing to lay on your back in front of him.

He lowly cleared his throat and placed the bag top of the nightstand before turning towards you, “I don’t know if I’m hungry for candy anymore.”

It came out as a purr, something akin to how he got girls’ attention at parties. His fingers pulling your chin towards him and then lowering to toy with the hem of your shirt, “maybe I want something a little sweeter.”

“Don’t say that, Billy,” you huffed, turning your head back. He knew you too well to assume that you weren’t mulling it over, especially with the way your teeth were beginning to chew at your bottom lip. “I mean, it’d be awkward cause you’re my best friend.”

Billy could sense a deeper reasoning, a consequence of knowing you for so long. He cocked an eyebrow, urging you to go on.

“Also, I know you, and we agreed that I’m not a conquest thing.”

He had to admit that it was a bit of a sharp jab, but he didn’t keep you around for being a liar. The cockiness dropped a bit, “Don’t you trust me?” he hummed.

His thumb grazed over the apple of your cheek before he decided to grant some sincerity, “It won’t be awkward if all I’m doing is helping you out, right? And you mean more to me than that.”

It was soft and sweet for Billy to say that, but you knew if you dug further into his emotions that he would start to deflect, so you playfully rolled your eyes, “How many girls have you told that one to?”

Fortunately, he caught the joking tone.

“About four,” he answered in mock hurt, before pulling you up and maneuvering you back into his lap, “-doesn’t mean I haven’t meant it almost every time.”

A loud laugh escaped you lips and you swatted lightly at his chest, “Fuck off.”

Billy leaned in, mumbling “C’mon it’s a really good offer,” then the nipping at your throat started. Though your friendship had always had a plethora of sexual jokes and more physical contact than most, he knew that he was teetering on a thin line.

You sighed deeply, tilting your neck to give him more room. You tucked a hand into his hair, “Why are you offering anyway?”

“I think it’d be fun,” Billy admitted. His hand slipped under your shirt and he let his fingertips graze the bottom your ribcage, “I think it’s also a bit more convenient than what you’re doing now.”

“How so?” You chuckled, “I barely have to do any work.”

“Because,” he lowered his hand, his thumb lightly pressing right below your navel as he purred in your ear, “no toy is gonna tell you how pretty you look when you’re fucked dumb on a cock.”

He couldn’t help his groan at your breath hitching and the involuntary buck of your hips when his pinky slipped just under the waistline of your matching pajama shorts.

“Well jeez, Billy. Who’s being a tease now?” It came out as a low gasp. Under any other circumstance, you probably would’ve scolded yourself for how needy it sounded.

“Gimme permission, then,” Billy chided in retaliation, his hands fell to your waist and he gave testing squeezes. He softly rocked his pelvis against you and you could feel how much this situation was affecting him.

Heat rose to your cheeks again and you tugged his head back by his hair, grabbing his attention. Your expression was stern, “You’re serious about this, huh?”, maybe it was a bit late to ask that, given the position you were in but something continued to nag you in the back of your mind.

His expression softened for a split second, before grinning, “Sure I am, you’re always spouting that “friends supporting friends” bullshit,” he stuck his tongue out to lick a strip over your exposed cleavage, “let me support you.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’ll take that as a yes then?”

With one short nod of your head, Billy had begun pulling up the hem of your shirt, gaze burning into your skin as it became visible to him. He surprised you though, using his wet lips to graze your pulse point instead of the freshly exposed skin, “Are you going to let me kiss you?”

“Kiss me-“

If it was a question, Billy didn’t wait for the finish, he wanted it. Too damn cocky to beg his pretty best friend to let him kiss her like he’s thought about nearly a thousand times.

Your brain went fuzzy with the mix off his hands groping at the fabric of your bra and his lips pressed against yours. He continued to test his waters by pulling your lower lip between his teeth and quickly releasing it, he looked all over your face, making sure to take a mental picture of the furrowed brows and pout that you were making.

“Can I fuck you?”

You lazily nodded at him in reply.

“Say it,” it was stern despite how blushed his cheeks looked and how he said it after panting, “I’m not doing anything until you say that I can.”

“Fuck,” you grumbled in attempt to find your words again, “Fuck me. Please.”

Billy caved, pulling your lips back to his. He moved his hands to cup your thighs below your ass and you squeaked when tugged you to fall onto your back. He nestled his hips into the space between your spread thighs, thumbs digging into the pillowy skin to hold you open while he ground himself against you.

“You want me fuck you, huh? Want me to fuck that pretty cunt?” His questions had your head spinning, not knowing whether to pay attention to his foul mouth and words or the delicious burn of his denim jeans against your thighs and the feel of him pressed to where you knew you needed him.

You took ahold of Billy’s hand, desperation taking precedent over your nerves when you pulled it to your mouth and began to suckle at the tips of his fingers. You mumbled out something along the lines of ‘support me’ before his brain began to short circuit.

The second you released his fingers, Billy began to tug your shorts down. His lips pressing against the inside of your ankle before dropping the cloth to your bedroom floor. He looked down at you and gulped thickly when he realized that you were laid out nearly bare for him.

“No panties?” he questioned with a chuckle that sounded more strained than he intended.

You pulled yourself to lean back on your elbows, before furrowing your brows at him, “Uh no.”

“Well what in the hell do you mean with just “uh no”?” He asked again, your ankle still held up in his grasp.

“Billy, I usually never sleep in panties.”

“Oh,” he floundered, “okay then.” It was a stupid thing to say, he knew it, especially after all of the foul things he’d said before but now he could feel himself painfully throbbing in his jeans at the thought of all of the nights he’d laid in your bed with you not wearing anything but little shorts. He’d really have to take them off soon or he’d fucking bust in the denim like some kind of chump over you.

Billy tried to regain his composure by kissing up your calf, he was too enamored with the softness of it to not suck at the skin. You fell back and he let out forceful puffs of air whenever you made noises for him. But the sharp gasp at him biting the inside of your thigh had him standing to his feet.

He didn’t have much of a chance to undo his belt before you moved towards him, your fingers swatted his away and took over the ministrations. He let out a deep groan when your fingers danced over the zip to free him from its confinement.

When your fingers went to explore him further, he tutted at you, pulling back and haphazardly kicking off his shoes and his tugging his jeans down to throw backwards towards your closet. His shirt was off quickly after that and you openly ogled the trail of hair that disappeared below the band of his boxers.

He looked back at you, a devil’s grin etched onto his face, “Like what you see?”

“I’m sure I can work with it,” you sassed in order to amuse him, before pausing to look over him once more before adding, “I’m still waiting for you to prove that you’re better than my toy.”

“Oh really?” he hummed, stalking towards the edge of the bed. He tapped your knee, urging you to scoot back to allow him room.

You gave him a confused look when he dropped to kneel at the edge of your bed, both of his hands on your thighs. “Billy, what are you doing?”

“I’m going to prove it,” he answered you dumbly, pulling your thighs apart and attempting to hook them over his shoulders, “lean back.”

You huffed, neglecting to follow his request.“I thought you were going to fuck me.”

He let out a low hum before roughly pulling you towards him, closer towards his awaiting smirk. “Believe me,” he sighed, “I am going to fuck you. I’m going to fuck this pretty cunt with my tongue until you can’t stand to even look at that girly vibrating piece of shit.”

He didn’t wait for a reply before touching you, he wanted to stop whatever smart ass comment was brewing right in its tracks. “Hey there, pretty girl,” he cooed in awe, his thumb moving to drag over your folds and if he wasn’t so taken with the view he might’ve teased you for the loud hiss that you let out.

You looked down at him, his mesmerized eyes following the path of his soaked finger, and you had to admit that he looked so gorgeous, almost enough to convince you to let him have his way about proving you wrong. His blushed cheeks and his fingers that dug into your thigh and his ruffled hair were sending you into overdrive, it was overwhelming you in such a good way.

Billy could feel your frustration growing as you squirmed in your spot under his grip, he lost his resolve when you groaned out his name. He swore he’d never heard such an addicting sound, he had to grant you reprieve so he replaced his fingers with his tongue, following the same path that he’d traced before.

You had a white-knuckled grip on your blankets and you were praying that no one could hear the vulgar noises that were emitting from where Billy’s lips were now suckling at your cunt. You nearly sobbed when he prodded at your entrance with his middle finger, he groaned into you when he was met with little resistance.

He pulled back for only a moment to admire his handiwork, “Look at how badly you needed me, Baby. You’re taking me so well.”

You keened for his praise, whining at his words and for the pet name that had fallen with surprising affection from his lips.

Billy’s eyes rolled back and he moaned into you when he pulled your clit between his teeth and you replaced your grip from the blankets to his hair. With each harsh tug, he could feel you grinding yourself against his face and he used the motion to rut against the side of your bed for some relief.

You could feel a familiar heat in your belly and you didn’t have time to tell Billy before he tapped your outer thigh. A frustrated groan began to leave your lips, but was immediately taken over by a sharp gasp and your tensing at Billy sliding another finger into you.

He slowly pumped the two digits in and out, and found it very hard to not imagine that it was his cock disappearing into you, filling you up and making you twice as breathless as you were now.

As Billy gained speed and rhythm, you could feel the build again, the slow lapping ripples of your pleasure churning into tidal waves that you could drown in.

Your vision went white when Billy curled those two fingers and hit a spot that had your legs tensing around his head. He grinned pridefully at that, shouldering your thighs apart again and focusing solely on hitting that spot with the same depth and speed.

He knew you were reaching your peak, and if not from how you were fluttering around his fingers then it was definitely because you’d removed one hand from his hair to clasp over your mouth and quell the some the moans that were egging him on.

Your body tensed, thighs attempting to squeeze Billy’s broad shoulders as he worked you through your orgasm and licked the mess he made from your sensitive cunt.

He held them apart until you whimpered and his grip loosened, his mouth reluctantly pulling back from you and he looked like he had to convince himself to not just stare at the place where he’d just been. He stood, rubbing down your thigh before turning to your closet to find one of his other abandoned shirts and returning to wipe you clean of his spit and your cum.

You whined at the over stimulation and he apologized, tossing the shirt into your hamper when he finished. You could complain to him about that tomorrow but for now, you were sated and you could feel yourself getting drowsy.

“Don’t knock out on me yet, Hot-stuff,” Billy said, tugging the shirt he was wearing earlier over your head. When it was fully on you, he held your chin between his fingers, pulling you to look into his eyes, “I’ll be right back, turn on a channel that isn’t boring.”

You nodded lazily, watching him intently as he strode out of your room to what you assumed would be the bathroom. He’d somehow managed to slip into sweats while tending to you post earth shattering orgasm, but you decided not to linger too long on thoughts of Billy’s half naked body and flip through the channels on the television.

When Billy returned, his face was flushed and he had the same hazy look in your eyes that you did. You playfully swatted at his chest when he laid down beside you after turning out your lights.

“What the fuck was that for?” he questioned, eyes wide at the harmless attack.

“Did you just fucking jerk off in my bathroom?” you replied, slightly whisper-yelling at him.

“Um, fucking duh, (Y/N). What else was I supposed to do? I was hard as hell, that shit hurt.”

His genuine incredulous look had you snorting at him in bemusement and smirking with a snicker, “Aren’t we friends, Billy?”

Billy’s eyebrows furrowed and he cautiously settled beside you again and wrapping an arm around you to grab a candy from the nightstand. He popped it in his mouth and dropped his arm to lay at your waist before replying with his cheek full, “Best friends apparently.”

You hummed in agreement, turning your head just enough for you to catch his gaze and to plant a soft kiss you his jawline. “We always could’ve tried more of that “friends supporting friends” bullshit.”

Read Best Friends Too for more!

#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x y/n #stranger things au #stranger things imagine #radicalbilly writes #billy hargrove reader #stranger things fic #billy hargrove #billy hargrove imagine

9K notes · View notes

wint3r-h3art · 1 year

Text

Retaliation & Retribution | Namor

Summary: You thought that you have the upper hand when you tease him, but you found yourself in a compromising position when the king retaliated back.

Word count: 2.6K

Warnings: Brain rotting smut ahead. No plot whatsoever. Finger sucking, semi public teasing, oral (female receiving), hand job, inappropriate used of the throne, vaginal sex (reverse cowgirl), cum dumping. Brat taming undertone.

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

A/N: A follow up to His Sacrificial Offering! I hope this fic receive the same love as the first one too. I’ve been trying to squeeze this into my busy schedule, so I hope it comes out good, and everyone enjoy it. The idea came from this post and 🐠 anon throne sex idea. Per usual, no beta, so if I miss anything, I do apologize. If you do enjoy it, please, please do support me by reblog and/or comment. It means a lot <3 (also that’s how you bribe me for more fics)

*** Do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my work anywhere else !!

Rough fingertips skimmed lightly along the back of your thigh. The light caress sent a chill straight through your spine, making you shiver slightly. The King noticed it and a smirk quirked at the corner of his mouth. His eyes glistened with interest.

You knew what you had done, and you knew the sort of retribution your king demanded from you.

It all started when you teased him while he was addressing his subjects. Normally, no one really paid no mind to you whenever you were there. The king had made it clear from day one, that you were his. Though you had never dared to act out of place, today was different.

Today, you felt extra naughty. As you laid your head on his thigh, spacing out as usual. Then an idea came to you.

His hand never strayed too far from you. His fingertips often linger on the top of your head or touched your hair–just something to feel you. Most of the time, you simply enjoyed the feel of his touch and the sound of his voice when he spoke, but today was different.

When his fingers reached down to stroke your cheek, you turned and began sucking on his fingers. It was meant to be a childish game on your part, but the look he gave you at that moment stirred something inside you. You couldn’t help but give him an innocent look as if you didn’t mean to turn him on or something.

Oh, you were a wicked little thing alright, Namor thought as he tried to slow his breathing, but of course, his mind wandered, imagining your mouth wrapped around his length.

Whenever you sucked on his fingers, Namor could feel his body stiffen, trying not to imagine how it felt similar to the way your pussy squeezed around his cock. He wanted to moan, wanted to squirm–fuck, whatever that he could just do to release him from this torture.

He gave you a warning look–it was so subtle that no one in the room noticed it. But you persisted with your teasing. As a matter of fact, you were using your tongue on him, making the ache that was growing in his groin become more apparent, which brought you back to this moment, alone in the throne room with the King, completely at his mercy.

“Present yourself to your king, my dear,” he said for the first time. His voice was softer, less firm than when he was in front of his people. Each syllable made you shiver with anticipation as you straightened slowly to your full height.

Under no circumstances you were allowed to stand taller than the king, but this was the only exception.

The look he gave you made you throb terribly. Your thighs squeezed in an attempt to sate that ache, but to no avail of course, not when the king was looking at you like he was going to devour you in that instance.

“Turn around,” he commanded, and you swallowed as you slowly did as he said.

Your heart practically slammed against your ribcage as your body buzzed in anticipation. Heat slowly enveloped your face, warming you to the tip of your ears. Your breathing became almost too hard as if all the air in your lungs was getting pumped right out of you.

“Bend over.”

You swallowed. Your eyes widened as your stomach did a flip. You complied with shaky breath as you leaned forward, widening your legs apart, exposing every part of you to him. The golden jewelry he had adorned you rattled softly, hanging off your neck as you stood there as your breathing labored, anticipating his touch.

Your breath wavered when you felt his hand cup the back of your thigh just below the swell of your buttcheek. His thumb rubbed gently at the sensitive skin that was near the lips of your pussy, but he made no effort to touch it just yet.

Namor could feel himself shuddering slightly in his throne as he parted your folds, exposing your most intimate part to him. His mouth salivated as he watched you tremble before him.

Slick slowly seeped out of your exposed hole, and it made his mouth water. Desire pooled at his loin. He could feel his erection pressing quite insensibly, demanding its own attention. The urge to just pull you back and let you bounce on his cock was slowly becoming overwhelming, almost to the point where it clouded his judgment. He imagined the way your pussy would squeeze and stretch around his length, and the way you moaned out his name. His need to be in control was wavering.

“You’re so wet already, and we haven’t even begun yet,” he teased as he slowly stroked at your slippery folds. More slick began to leak out, and your thighs shook as you stood there, feeling the way his rough fingertips traced and explored the delicate flesh.

You swallowed hard as you felt your king push the tip of his finger past your swollen nether lips, teasing and testing you. You bit down hard on your lip, trying to stifle that moan from ever coming out of your mouth.

You knew the sort of depravity he was capable of, but this was new compared to his other game. You could feel his breath fanning over the lips of your pussy, hot and humid over the moist, sensitive flesh. Your hands desperately reached over to your knees, aching for any sort of support just to keep you from toppling over and falling right over the massive throne.

“Just look at how your body reacts to me–feel that, you’re practically swallowing my finger, my love,” he murmured as he slowly pushed his finger inside you. “Are you imagining something else in its place–something thicker perhaps?”

Your body shook slightly, and a groan rumbled in your throat as you relished the way his thick finger worked at your slick heat. “Since you like sucking on my fingers so much, perhaps I can entertain you with them a bit, don’t you like that.”

You nodded as you swallowed another lump in your throat.

He was retaliating alright–the dirty talking, and the way he dropped his voice an octave lower. The slow torturous stroke of his finger–just slowly stringing you up to the point where you are just a needy mess.

He loved every moment of it.

A surprised gasp slipped past your lips as he licked across the seam of your folds. The feeling of his warm, velvety tongue traced along your opening was almost too much that it made your legs waver. His hand gripped your thighs and pulled you into him further as he delved his tongue right into your hole.

Another depraved sound drew out of you as you struggled to keep your composure. Perspiration dusted your skin. Your nails were digging hard into your thighs as you tried your hardest to hold on to reality, which was slowly slipping slowly the more he was licking so deliberately with just his tongue.

A delightful groan coming from your king reverberated straight to your pussy, creating a vibration that was much needed for your swollen clit.

His tongue continued to work you, teasing your opening, rimming it in slow circles first before letting his tip nudge and pushed your clit. Then he began to fuck you with shallow penetrations, short and quick, pushing into your tight heat. Your legs were wavering, but Namor was keeping you in place with his strong grip. Whenever your body slacked a bit too much, he would pull you in with a force that made you gasp out loud.

“My king,” you practically cried out as your body strained and ached from straining and clenching so hard. “Please…”

“Hmmm…?”

You whined. “My king, please. I learned my lesson.”

“No you don’t” he mumbled right into your pussy, before he lewdly sucked on the lips.

You attempted to pull away but to no avail of course. It only encouraged him further to fuck you deeper as his tongue allowed.

You turned and looked at him over your shoulders. The sight of your teary eyes, and parted lips drove him further into his desires. The urge of bending you over and fucking you over this throne was becoming more and more apparent.

It wasn’t long until you came with a stifled cry. Your body convulsed and strained, almost falling over if it wasn’t for his grip.

He pulled you back until you were seated right on his lap. Your head lolled on his shoulder, inhaling his masculine scent. His arousal was apparent as his hardness pressed against your lower back. Your king kept you there, allowing you to feel the way you have made him feel.

Namor’s hand slowly slithered up your body–from your stomach, up to your chest, which he paused to squeeze at your mound. His fingers teased at your nipple, twisting the hard nub between his fingers until it was perked up.

“You must think it is over now, don’t you?” His voice was still low and deep, and a gentle rumble on the ocean floor. His fingers slowly stroke the valley between your breasts, then further up until he is tracing the delicate skin of your neck.

He lingered there.

Your eyes fluttered when he trailed his hand down to the column of your throat. The thought of him slowly losing his grip made your pussy throb to the point where it was aching, wishing, and hoping for some sort of release.

“Are you going to make your king work for this, or what? Guide me,” he said. His breath fanned warmly against your cheek. “Put me inside you.”

Your throat went dry as you struggled.

Namor sucked in his breath when you began fisting him in your hand, pumping his thick, cock from root to tip, relishing the weight in your hand–he was heavy and warm. Hard, but also soft like hot steel wrapped in velvet.

You were enamored by the feelings, of course, especially knowing that you did this to him–to the king, to the living God himself. No one dared to come as close to you as you had with your king.

Your lover.

Your paramour.

Namor felt like he was about to lose it the moment your hand wrapped around him. His eyes fluttered, mouth hung agape, while he leaned his head back against the throne. His groan rumbled deep in his chest, vibrating against your back.

Beads of his precum leaked out of the slit of the fat head of his cock, covering your hands with his slick as the pleasure continued to build at the base of his spine. Your mouth watered at the sight of the feelings alone. It didn’t help that his hand was kneading your breast this whole time.

It was a deadly combination–the kind that made your pussy ache and squeezed at nothing, wishing to have his dick inside you.

“You’re going to make me come, my love,” he warned as he squeezed at your soft flesh hard enough to pull you out of your little trance.

You replied back with a little whining noise as he continued.

“I said put me inside you, not stroking me. If I wanted to come, I would have used your mouth, my dear. Now, don’t make me remind you again, my sweet. We know how I get when I have to repeat myself.”

You bit your lips and nodded. The tone of his voice made you shiver as you rose slowly till there was enough height for you to position yourself. With a shaky hand, you lined the head of his cock at your quivering opening.

With one deep breath, you slowly sank down onto his length. Your eyes fluttered shut as he slowly stretched you and filled you till your mind was clouded with nothing but the thought of him alone. Every inch you swallowed him was a desirous burn as your body tried to adjust to him

His groan came out like a deep guttural noise, lacing with the breathless panting. Your name fell from his lips no more than a whisper as you began to bounce on his cock, impaling yourself slowly and deeply. Your thighs burned from the effort, but you didn’t care.

Namor let out a low groan as you moved. You began to set the pace, slowly at first before you caught on, allowing yourself to get lost in the rhythm of your movement, setting the pace by the sound of his breathing–slowed when he gasped, and quickened when he was silent.

His hand caged your body, entombing you in his hold as he began to control the speed and angle of your descent. Your body was attuned to his movement as your head fell on his shoulder. You became lax as he eased you all the way down to the hilt. His arms reached around your body and crossed over your chest. Your thighs draped on top of his, spreading you wide open.

Perspiration coated your skin, making it slick where your body joined. Every movement was torturous and desirous all at once–like swallowing fire and being bathed in the warmth of euphoria.

Namor reached between your legs and began to massage your exposed clit, circling it with his fingers all the while he was fucking you with determination. It was no longer about punishing you, but rather making you feel what he wants you to feel and when he wanted you to feel it.

He was fucking you so hard that you could feel your teeth rattling every time he brought you down. Your mind scrambled the faster he pistoned his hips and drove himself into you. It felt like you were torn in half and being put back together again all at once.

Your rapture drew near the more he was toying with your clit while he drove his cock in and out of you with vigor. You climax with a cry as you convulse and straighten above him, but it doesn't matter. Namor continued to fuck you and used you until he too reached his own released. He came long and hard. A wash of heat filled you up with his seed.

It was quite sometime before your breathing slowed once again. Your eyes fluttered open to find that the king had snuggled you close to his body, tucking your head under his chin. His masculine scent filled your nostril, warming you from the inside. Every part of you was hyper-aware of him and him only.

“I need to rile you up more often,” you said softly, still trying to pull air into your lungs as you looked up to your love.

The King grunted, but you noticed the small smile that tugged at the corner of his lips. You knew he enjoyed this perhaps more than you do.

“Are you telling me you don’t like it?”

Namor squeezed you slightly, which made a giggle slip out of you.

“We should leave before we get caught.”

“You’re changing the subject, my king. I’m sure Attuma can wait for your presence.”

“Hmm, I really don’t know what you mean,” he said as he cradled you in his arms. You laughed before Namor silenced you with a long deep kiss.

This was so worth the punishment, you smirked.

A/N: my condolences to the beautiful throne. 🫣

#namor x reader #namor x you #namor x y/n #namor imagine #tenoch huerta #namor fanfiction #namor smut

3K notes · View notes

aothotties · 6 months

Text

How they help you get over someone

Word count: 1016

Warnings: Levi is in his 30s, car sex, mating press, pet names (mama), squirting, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex.

“But i just feel so dumb, im literally so stupid” you huffed to your gym buddy, Levi as you spotted him.

He finished his set then sat up and turned towards you

“Y/N, you're so young. You're going to make mistakes plus you're a girl. No ones mad at you for believing what he said to you and having sex with him” he said plainly

You always vented to Levi when you were upset and he always found a way to give you great advice and help you through everything. Him being older made it easier to trust him because you felt like he was grown grown and had it all together

“I'm mad at myself. I feel like I'm too old to still fall for the same bullshit I fell for in highschool. Were you like me at my age?” you stated as tears threatened to spill from your eyes

“ I was worse” , he responded, “don't feel bad about it. Its a normal thing for you to be upset that he fucked you then never spoke to you again, youre not the problem. Any woman, no matter what age, would be upset about that. I mean there's some succubuses out there that just smash everyone and don't feel a thing, but most women aren't like that”

You couldn't lie, levi always reassured you and made you feel better about making regular human choices and never allowed you to beat yourself up for making mistakes

You both finished your workout and left the gym. He walked out next to you and made sure you were safe in the parking lot because it was late at night. You stopped at the car and he pulled you into a hug

“You'll be alright, mama. Don't be so hard on yourself” he said and you buried your face in his chest and began to cry

Even though his words made you feel better you were still sad. He rubbed your back and let you get it all out and refused to let go until you finished crying

You pulled away and wiped your tears on your shirt

“Thank you, i really appreciate you, Levi” you said to him once you composed yourself

“Dont worry about it, i'm always here if you need me” he responded.

You stared up at him completely enamored. You had the strongest feelings for him and had them for a while. You tried sleeping with that other guy thinking it would help you get over him but it clearly didn't work. You just ended up sad and crying in his arms which strengthened your feelings. You were convinced Levi didn't feel the same and you were too sacred to say anything in fear that it would ruin the friendship you have

“Aye aren't you glad you asked me to be your gym partner”, he said trying to change the subject

“yeah , i guess” you laughed as you responded

“You guess? You know you wanted to be like me, that's why you approached me and asked for my help” he nudged you a little bit as he teased

“That definitely not the reason i approached you but yeah let's go with that” you told on yourself before you even had the chance to realize it

He looked down at you and smirked as he nodded, “ yeah i know”

He confirmed in that moment that he knew exactly how you felt about him and apparently he felt the same because he grabbed you by your wrist and pulled you towards his car

Levi drove a nice white tesla and you had been dying to see the inside

He had you in the back seat folded completely in half as he pressed his weight onto you

His dick was reaching so far inside you that your mind went blank. All you could do was moan his name while he fucked you at a steady pace.

Sweat rolled down his abs as he was sliding in and out of your dripping wet pussy. He was mesmerized by the way you were sucking him in. He was also taken aback at how good your body looked folded under him.

Sometimes at the gym he would make slick comments about your ass but you never realized it was his way of telling you he felt the same.

“Fuck Levi, r-right there. Im gonna cum baby” you whined as you grabbed his biceps

His pace didn't change and he continued to fuck you all the way to your peak

“Mmhmm mama, cum for me” he said as he watched your face contort in pleasure

Your high flooded over you and you came hard all over his thick cock. You felt bad that you squirted on his perfectly clean seats but he couldn't care less. He wanted to see you cum for him over and over again and didn't care about what happened to his car.

He never let up and kept going until you came for him multiple times. Each time you came a mantra of praises left his lips.

His pace became more erratic as he came close to his climax. You could feel his dick throbbing inside you as he was about to cum

“ gonna cum inside you mama, f-fill you up real good” he stated between deep grunts

He slammed into you hard one last time then you felt as his hot thick cum spilled inside you. He slid out and watched as it pooled out of you but he quickly pushed it back in with his fingers.

You both threw your clothes on and you stepped out of his car and wobbled as you tried to stand up straight. He laughed at you and shook his head. He put his arm around you and walked you to your car

He leaned down and pressed a kiss on your forehead

“Best cardio i've ever done” he stated as he opened the door for you

You hopped in your car and deleted the other guy's number knowing damn well he did not match up to Levi in any way.

#aot #aot x black reader #aot smut #aot x reader #aot scenarios #aot imagines #aot x female reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman smut #levi x reader #levi smut #levi x black reader

466 notes · View notes

neteyamslovrr · 1 year

Text

HOW CAN I LOSE YOU?

summary: prmoised to a stranger Y/N takes flight and finds herself lost in the pandorian forest, only to be found by a omaticayan boy. who knew that strangers could fall in love so fast?

a/n: 5.7K WORDS bro that's more than my assignments. anyway i am incredibly proud of this fic and i hope you enjoy it as much as i do

──── ⑅*❀*⑅ ────

Heat rose through your body, fury filling your insides as the words your mother said repeated in your mind like an intoxicating mantra. You are promised.

Promised? Th only promise is your misery. To think it’s not even someone from your clan. A stranger, an outsider, unknown to you and you were meant to mate. The fury grew even thinking about it.

“Y/N? Respond please.” Your mother held her hands on your shoulder as you refused to look in her direction.

“What? I’m being promised to someone I don’t even know. Am I meant to be excited?” You spat venom at your mother avoiding her eye contact, swatting her hands off of your body.

“Y/N! Do not speak to your mother like that!” Always chiming in when he wasn’t needed, that’s what your father did.

“Don’t treat your daughter like a peace treaty then!” You shouted back, a sharp finger pointed at your father’s chest. You started to walk backwards, hands shaking from the rage racking through your body. “I’m leaving.”

“No Y/N, you can’t leave now, we have things to discuss!” Your mother was desperate walking fast to match the fast pace you had created to reach your ikran.

“You have nothing to say to me.” Harsh words shot at your mother as you hoped onto your ikran. “Go, Lifo!” Shouting out your banshees name you took off, gusts of wind leaving your parents to stare at their fleeing daughter.

You couldn’t remember how long you had been flying, the ongoing replay of the fight with your parents and the doom of your near future plagued your mind. Leaving your ikran to fly into unknown territory, a dense forest filled with a loud glow that encompassed every lifeform.

Landing on a large tree you disconnected from Lifo, the glow was different to your clan, it was much more apparent, the plant life encompassing every step you would take.

Strolling through the forest, you wandered looking for any food or water, as the unexpected trip took a toll on your body, hunger brewing in your stomach creating soft grumbles that harmonized with the sounds of the forest. Inspecting all of the flora around you, you spotted a purple fruit. You only recognized it as the same fruit grew on smaller trees surrounding your village.

Picking the fruit, avoiding the thorns on the fruits skin, you took a bite. The flesh of the fruit spilling into your mouth leaving you with an amazing taste and a wash of nostalgia. It was the exact same as home, bringing you back to times when you knew you could run freely and weren’t subjected to a life of misery, a life of lack of love.

A sudden crunch of leaves instantly got rid of the nostalgic feeling you had and replaced them with fear, subconsciously holding onto the knife in the loop of your loin cloth as your heart started to beat rapidly.

“Who are you?” A loud voice boomed in front of you. A tall man, braids reaching his shoulders and hand who also reached onto his knife stood tall across from you, his figure intimidating as he questioned you.

“I mean no harm! I am just lost!” You retracted your hand off your knife to surrender yourself to the man in front of you. “I am from the eastern seas, my ikran and I flew too far.” Pointing to your sleeping ikran in the treetops above the pair of you. The mans eyes softened immediately, you noticed a=how the bioluminescent glow of the forest made his features stand out like a flower in a desert.

“Are you alright?” The man asked coming closer, his hand now also abandoning his knife, knowing you were no longer a threat.

“Yes, just looking for food.”

“You cannot stay in the forest at night, you’ll die.” Panic rose throughout you as you realised you stood in such hostile foliage. Eyes immediately scanning around where you stood, conscious of the danger surrounding you. “Rest within my clan, you’ll leave in the morning.” He wasn’t asking you, more like a demand.

Nodding hesitantly, you clapped three times to wake Lifo up, watching her wide wings flap down to the ground to let you board her. “Please lead the way.”

He nodded, calling his ikran to fly high into the sky waiting for you to follow suit. “What is your name Ikran girl?” He shouted over the noise of the two of your ikran’s flying.

“It’s Y/N…what is yours forest boy?”

“Neteyam.” That’s a pretty name.

Upon arrival you watched as many people hustled to look at the newcomer. Two women rose to the front, the rest parting to make way for them. Assuming they were important, you greeted them with a bow. “oel ngati kameie”

The two repeated it before turning aggressively to the boy you knew as Neteyam.

“Who do you bring here?” An older woman asked, she looked wise. Maybe she was Tsa’hik?

“Her name is Y/N, flew over from the eastern seas and got lost in the forest, she is here to rest.” Neteyam’s voice was serious, his face stern, like a man of leadership. Who exactly had you run into in the middle of this forest?

“I see…” She replied, her eyes gliding over you. Frozen in the moment, her stare was intimidating but so was the hundreds of others that oogled at you. It made the hunger settling in your stomach turn into anxiety.

“Feed this poor girl!” A younger woman replied, coming up beside the Tsa’hik. She was thin, her braids similar to Neteyam’s, feathers adorning her hair, as a small child held tightly onto her hand.

“Yes mother.” Neteyam nodded, he looked at you and your frozen form. Laying a soft hand on your shoulder. “Come, your ikran will rest.” He started walking off even before you could process his words but seeing as he was the only person you knew in this place, it was first instinct to follow him around like a lost child.

He lead you into a tent, inside were fruit baskets and water stored in wooden jars. If you weren’t so shocked by the continuous new surrounding you would’ve rushed to the fruit.

“Hurry and eat, everyone can hear your stomach.” Neteyam said as he stood next to the fruit, picking one up to put into your hands. Picking the fruit out of his hands, your fingers brushed his palm slightly.

It shouldn’t have worked you up so much, but the static between the two of you evoked a small gasp out of you. Neteyam felt the touch too, he just decided to ignore it but seeing your overreaction brought a soft smirk to his face.

“Do not make fun of the guests Neteyam!” A girl pushed between the two of you, giving Neteyam a nudge. She was short, her hair messy and her voice deep.

“I was not sister!” Neteyam scoffed pushing his sister back. She let out an exaggerated gasp holding onto her arm dramatically.

Munching onto the fruit in your hands, you watched the pair of sibling’s bicker in front of you. You would’ve giggled at their antics if the anxiety of being in this new place wasn’t controlling every thought.

“Oh! I haven’t introduced myself!” The shorter girl turned to you curtly. “I am Kiri, Neteyam’s sister. What is your name?”

“It’s Y/N.” You said with you mouth full, face covered in a sticky sap excreting from the fruits skin.

“That’s quite pretty, your name.” You heated up, a compliment was rarely something you received.

“Thankyou very much.” You smiled at the girl, your gaze distracted by Neteyam who overlooked your conversation, a soft smile glistening over his face. It looked like was almost in awe watching the two women converse.

Neteyam shook his head, realising he left himself loose in his thoughts. Looking over at your messy face he was mesmerised, each of your features perfectly matched the other, you looked so soft yet sharp, so tough but so elegant.

He shouldn’t be thinking this, not as an Olo’eyktan, he had duties, responsibilities. He can’t develop a liking for another clan woman.

“Are the fruits…good?” He sounded so awkward, destroying the flow of the conversation between you and Kiri. Kiri snorted in response at her brother, she wasn’t dumb, she knew when a boy thought a girl was pretty, especially when its her brother making a fool of himself.

You nodded enthusiastically. “They’re amazing, thankyou Neteyam.” You had finally finished the fruit, leaving your face and hands sticky. An uncomfortable feeling no doubt.

“I’m uh glad.” Neteyam responded, being slightly deterred as his sister left, poking him in the spine as she snuck out of the tent, leaving Neteyam alone, with this…girl.

“Why are you all the way in the forest by the way?” Neteyam asked suddenly, his eyes directly upon yours, looking into them, noticing the glint of sadness that washed over your pupils momentarily.

“I argued with my parents. Flew off in a rush and got distracted as to where I was flying. So now I am here.” You shrugged, taking a seat on the floor of the tent, your legs growing tired from your long journey. Neteyam followed your actions and sat down in front of you. Much closer to where he stood.

“Oh, I am sorry.”

“Do not be sorry, my parents should be the sorry ones, but you do not want to be burdened with the quarrels of my family.” A stifled chuckle escaped your throat as you looked up to see Neteyam listening to your ever word.

“I would not be burdened if you decided to talk about it.” His voice was calm, soft, a comforting feeling spreading through your chest as you heard his words.

“Thankyou.”

Neteyam nodded, as he patted just above your knee, a soft hand to comfort whatever grief was consuming your emotions. “Do you want to sleep, or would you like to continue to eat?”

“Uh, I don’t want to eat more than I am allowed to.”

“Well, are you still hungry?”

“…yes”

Neteyam shoved another piece of fruit in your hands. “Then you will eat.”

“Thankyou.” You smiled at him, biting into the fruit once again.

Neteyam was compelled by your presence, he had known you for merely an hour but the magnetic connection he felt as he was drawn to you was undeniable. Was he going crazy?

You noticed his heavy stare on you once more. It made you nervous, his eyes looking through you as you sat in front of him. His beauty was one you had never seen, he poise interested you. Were you attracted to this random man? You must be going crazy.

Chewing the food in a slightly rush you watched as Neteyam’s eyes awkwardly shuffled around the room to try and avoid making too much eye contact with you. With a small inhale you tried to gain the courage to break the awkward tension between you two.

“So Neteyam, you seem important around here, is there a reason why?” Your question surprised Neteyam. He had never met someone who knew nothing of his reputation within the clan.

“I am the future Olo’eyktan, my father is Toruk Makto.” You almost spat out the food in your mouth. You were speaking so casually with the son of Toruk Makto? Not even that, his firstborn son? He must have been staring because you were so informal!

“Oh! Son of Toruk Makto. I should have been more formal!” You rushed to stand up again to bow down to him. Scrambling to your feet with speed, you felt a soft grip on your wrist.

There Neteyam looked up at you, his eyes slightly…disappointed? Was he really that upset about your informalities?

“Sit back down Y/N, there is no need to be so formal.”

“Are you sure.” Your voice was quiet, eyes filled with confusion and hesitance as he nodded giving you the go ahead to sit once again.

“Yes I’m sure…just think of me as Neteyam.”

“Okay, I’ll do that…Neteyam.” He smiled at the sound of his name, the way you giggled as you said it, smile shining brightly in the soft moonlight that slipped through the tents curtains.

“What are you in your clan?” He asked, trying to keep the conversation flowing with you.

“I am the second daughter of the Olo’eyktan. Nothing special.” You shrugged, avoiding his hardening gaze. His hand returned once again to your thigh, an awkward attempt at comfort but still an attempt.

“You are a daughter of your clan’s leaders, that is important.” A stern statement filled with pride, his eyes softening while looking at you.

“Thankyou.” You said followed with a small yawn, eyes watering slightly. Your body was now feeling the fatigue of the long day that was now behind you.

“Oh, that reminds me, sleeping.” A soft chuckle left your lips in response to Neteyam, eyelids now starting to droop subtly. “This is my tent is where I usually sleep but if you would like you can sleep in here and I can sleep in my family’s tent?” He sounded so unsure, to suggest it as if there was another option as to where you could sleep safely.

“I do not want to kick you out of your bedroom.” You said shaking your head.

“But you are a guest you should sleep here safe.” A quick rebuttal

“Well, but this is your tent. This is where you sleep.”

“No, tonight it is where you sleep.” You sighed, pursing your lips together in response to Neteyams final remarks.

“But-”

“No” he stood up, now looking down at you. His figure looming over you intimidatingly. “You will sleep here tonight. If there is any trouble I am not far away.” He smiled at you, offering a hand to pull you up to his level.

“Are you completely sure?”

“Completely. Goodnight ikran girl.”

“Goodnight Neteyam.”

You both couldn’t deny the heat that rushed flowed to your cheeks. Neteyam stifled his smile as he exited the tent, as a smirking Kiri gave him a knowing look. This may have been the start of something terribly amazing.

It was now morning, a restless night filled with anxiety. The new sounds of the world around you, the mysterious moonlight shining into your eyes and to be alone in a brand new clan. It was terrifying.

Waking up for the last time as you decided it was an appropriate time to start off your day. Siting up you examined the tent around you, the small plants and flowers that littered the ground, and carved wooden pieces that were spread strategically around the tent. He must enjoy decorating you thought to yourself.

The curtain of your room slowly opened, a timid hand holding the edge, peeling it open to reveal Neteyam’s face. “Morning Y/N, did you sleep alright?” He asked closing the curtain again as he entered his tent. He looked down at your barely awake form, the sleep in your eyes and overall exhaustion on your face told him that you in fact did not sleep alright.

“It was fine, thankyou for letting me sleep here.”

“There was no way you weren’t going to, mum would have skinned me if I had not let a woman sleep in her own tent.” He chuckled at the thought, a hand being brought up behind his head.

“Either way, I appreciate it. I’ll have to go home soon though, my parents will send out a search party if I’m not back before todays eclipse.” Neteyam frowned, of course you had to leave. But why was there a tugging in his heart to ask you to stay just a couple hours longer, to talk to you longer, to be near you.

“Yes, but you should stay just a bit…longer.” Neteyam sounded so weary, cursing himself in his mind.

You stared up at him, you couldn’t deny that you wanted to be home, yet you had this growing urge to stay by this stranger. Why? Why did you crave his closeness?

“I guess I could…” His face brightened almost exclaiming in joy, but he choked down his urge to shout.

“Cool.” Cool? Oh, Neteyam you had to be kidding.

“Yeah…cool…” The awkward tension was once again returning as you looked away from the boy in front of you, fidgeting with his hands, rocking on his heels to pray something could meld the awkwardness in the room.

Getting off of your makeshift bed you stood close to Neteyam. Closer than any normal conversation would be. His breath was brushing past your ear as he looked down to see you mimicking his fidgeting.

“Would you like to explore the forest with me?” It was a fast, impulsive, brash decision to ask you that but seeing the way your eyes twinkled in response he felt no shame in being so forward.

“I’d love to.” Sharing smiles, you both enjoyed the now comfortable silence between you. A silence two would share in the pining plot point of a romance movie, one that asserts which two characters will be in love.

“Then let us go!”

That conversation led to you being alone in the forest with Neteyam. As he passionately explained all of the things around you, the plants, the animals. He knew you would have them in your clan, but he was enthralled in the spirit of teaching someone all about his life and culture. To have someone listen so intently to something he was passionate about.

“The forest is beautiful Neteyam.” You breathed out resting your back against a large tree trunk, one similar to the one you landed on the night before.

“I am extremely blessed for it to be my home.” His eyes were bright, smile across his face as his gratitude took over his emotions. He looked alluring to you, a sort of instinct drawing you closer to him, even though he was the one walking closer to you, a subconscious decision.

“Neteyam..” It was quiet but seeing him walk towards you unknowingly led him to stand very close to your front. His chest mere centimetres away from yours. “You are close…” Noticing your whisper he noticed how close he was, he was too busy focusing on the plants around him, he had walked right into you.

He froze when he saw your breath hitch, your eyes connecting as his broad chest momentarily brushed up against yours. “I am sorry, I shouldn’t be.” He looked down seeing your flushed cheeks and avoidant eyes. It intrigued him. Why were you so attractive? He shouldn’t think this.

“No, you shouldn’t.” Your eyes shot up to him, desire pooling in your amber orbs. The feeling was taking over your body, this longing for him. Why did you want this stranger so bad? You knew nothing of him other than the fact that your body was calling for him, begging for him.

Neteyam was now the frozen one, lost in your eyes. The desire you felt transferring to him as he felt his chest grow heavy from yearning. “Y/N…” Your name rolled off his tongue with ease, dripping in anxiousness.

Maybe it was to spite your parents, to find someone before you were mated. Maybe it was the overall intimacy of how Neteyam shyly loomed over you or maybe it was the fact that this man in front of you was the most attractive Na’vi you had ever came across and you were just a teenage girl…alone in the forest.

“Neteyam. Forgive me for this.” Crashing your lips against his your eyes shut tight as your hands travelled up his chest to rest behind his neck. He froze, eyes wide as he felt you upon him. Your touch burning as your hands travelled up and down his body.

Accepting your affections, he closed his eyes and continued to kiss you. Lips latching onto one another as he pulled your into his body, his hands wrapped around the small of your back, thumbs digging into the flesh of your hips.

Starting to lose your breath you broke away from Neteyam’s lips. Meeting his heavy breaths and intense stare. “Neteyam-” cut off as he smashed his lips into yours again. This time it was feverish, his body craving you, to taste you lips and feel every part of your body.

You let out small whimpers as Neteyam’s hands travelled down to grab your ass, his hand resting on the flesh. If he was in his right mind he would’ve been repulsed by his lewd actions but in this moment he craved you, and the sounds you made just drove him closer to insanity.

As hands roamed and kisses grew more desperate you and Neteyam separated, hands laying softly on each other as chests rose in sync, breathing loud and eye contact strong.

“Neteyam, I am sorry. I should not have done that.” The feeling of desire soon turned into shame, not being able to look him in the eye, too embarrassed about what you initiated. Neteyam was still, his face showing none of the feelings he was experiencing.

He longed to taste you again, but he knew it was wrong. He had duties to uphold as leader, he couldn’t kiss whomever he pleased. But you were just so intoxicating.

“No.”

“What?”

“Do not be sorry. I kissed you back. I wanted you so badly. No. I want you so badly.”

“Neteyam, I met you yesterday and I’m leaving today. I shouldn’t have been so impulsive.” He forgot that you had only known each other one eclipse. It felt like eternity. He also forgot that you were meant to leave, you weren’t here forever. This was a mere coincidence, meeting you in the forest was a coincidence.

“Come back then.”

“Huh” You stared up at him, you knew what he said. You just wanted him to repeat himself.

“Leave and come back. We can visit I just…I want to get to know you more Y/N. I don’t want to kiss a girl to never see her again.” Neteyam’s hands had rested against your cheek. It didn’t feel like you had known him for hours, more like years. An old couple reuniting, lost souls reconnecting. That is what it felt like.

“Neteyam…how do I explain that to my parents?”

“Don’t.”

“You are being a bit delusional.”

“I know I just… this is stupid. You just want to go.” His ears flattened against his skull, a prominent frown etched onto his face. You sighed holding onto the hand that laid against your own cheek.

“Neteyam. I want to get to know you as well.”

There it was. That was the start. It was the beginning. You both felt something click in your heads that day. That this is what is right, despite it feeling so wrong.

You and Neteyam had now been visiting each other twice a week. You would fly out on long ‘training hunts’ to understand new waters you have explored but in reality you were in the Pandorian rainforest, sat against a man’s chest as he played with your hair. It had become routine now. It was now habit to see each other.

It felt like true bliss. It let you escape from the impending doom that was meeting your future mate. It felt disgusting to think of living with someone other than Neteyam by your side. Thinking about it made you queasy but most of it made you feel lonely. Knowing one day you would have to say goodbye to Neteyam as your family had trapped you into misery for the benefits of clan’s over their own daughter. However, you didn’t think you would say goodbye to Neteyam this way.

You sat on the tree where you met Neteyam. You decided to pick that one as its large waterfall next to it made it easy for you to know where you were as you barely knew your way around the forest.

Early morning is when you would leave your clan meeting Neteyam as the sun starts to move towards peak. This morning however felt different. Neteyam who usually was there before you was nowhere to be seen. It worried you wondering where he was. He didn’t forget or something did he? No. That is stupid Y/N, you cursed yourself.

Being in the forest alone was scary, not knowing all that resides it made you sensitive to the smallest noise. That’s why when Neteyam emerged out of the heavy foliage you had your knife out ready to attack.

“Y/N? Why is your knife out?”

“You scared the crap out of me Neteyam.” Putting your knife back into the loop of your loincloth you pulled your hands down your face in embarrassment. Your heartbeat now starting to calm down as Neteyam gave you a soft embrace hoping to calm your anxiousness.

“Sorry…I was late talking to my family.” You didn’t realise before because of the adrenaline but Neteyam’s voice was sorrowful. The usual playful tone changing into a melancholy tune. But what alerted you the most was his tear-stricken face. Puffy eyes and dark cheeks.

“Neteyam…have you been crying?” you rested your thumb against his cheek, wiping the residue of tears off his face.

“It is nothing”

“It is definitely something…” your concern grew larger as he looked way from your gaze, obvious he was hiding the new set of tears welling in his eyes.

“No. It is not.”

“Neteyam please-”

“NO Y/N! I- I can’t talk about it. I just want, I want to stay next to you.” His voice cracked, in turn cracking your heart. It ached to see him hurt.

“That is okay baby, come here.” He crashed into your arms, falling onto his knees to smoosh his face into your torso. You could feel the wetness of his tears near your belly button but ignored it to continue soothing him, patting his head softly.

As you sat down to meet him on the ground you noticed his more recent tears. It pained you. What was troubling your boy?

“Nete you can tell me if something is troubling you…”

“I don’t want to lose you Y/N.” The sentence was unexpected, making you widen your eyes as Neteyam continued to let his tears fall out with a stone cold face.

“But I am right here.” A lie, you knew you would be taken away at some point, but you would tried to push it down. Enjoy the time you had with Neteyam, but for some reason he was the one cutting it short.

“No Y/N…I have been promised. I-” he paused to calm himself down, his hand gripping onto your thigh roughly. “I am to mate with someone for my clan. It is my duty.”

“What.”

“Y/N please, I had no say in this.” Your lip quivered, eyes starting to water as you gazed up to the already crying Neteyam. The pain in your body felt crippling, like your heart had been plunged out of you. Small sobs coming out of your mouth in a soft whisper as Neteyam muttered constant apologies to you.

Your chest felt heavy, your body felt heavy. You felt like you were tied down, stuck on the ground you sat on, stuck on Neteyam who hung onto you as you continued to cry in his embrace.

“Neteyam. Does this mean we never see each other again?” His heart shattered at the thought. He had fallen in love with you. Everything you did he wanted to be there with you. He craved you and you craved him. But now you were grieving him and grieving whatever could have been.

“I do not want it to be.”

“But is it.”

“Yes.”

The quiet sobs turned into loud ones as you clawed onto Neteyam. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear as he rocked you back and forth. He tried to have a little composure but hearing your pained voice broke him. He had broken you.

“I don’t want to let you go yet Nete. I was planning on never letting you go! Why did this happen!” you had this secret fantasy in your mind. That one day you and Neteyam would mate, that you would come to your home, denounce your parents promise over you and live happily with Neteyam.

But no. You were now both tied to loveless lives. Constantly yearning for each other while being with one whom you never craved like you craved each other.

“I am so sorry my love. I wish I could do something, but I am stuck.” You nodded, you were in his exact position. You couldn’t blame him. But you wanted to scream, cause a ruckus and demand for Neteyam to stay as yours. It drove you insane. Who was going to be the girl that kept you away from your Neteyam. You’ll skin her, kill her, slit her throat if it meant that Neteyam could still be yours.

“I know…let’s just enjoy our time together” it felt like a knife to the heart, like a final goodbye those last eight words. But Neteyam understood. He knew that this was a goodbye. That all good things had to come to an end but that didn’t make the thought of never having you in his arms again not the most painful thing he had ever thought about.

The ride home was the most painful thing you had ever done. You didn’t stop crying until you reached home, your throat itchy and head pounding. You wanted nothing more than to lay in your hammock and cry. To stay there until it was your time to mate and be miserable forever.

Flying into your home you would’ve thought your parents got the message that you were not to be talked to. But who were they to care about your feelings? So they barged into your room, gasping at the state of their sorrowful daughter.

“My child what has happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You grumbled facing the opposite direction to minimalize the embarrassment you felt of being caught crying.

“We should tell her.” Your fathers voice rung in your ears, making your body go cold. You couldn’t handle anymore bad news, not after this.

“Tell me what.”

“Your mate is to arrive here tomorrow.” Your body heated up, feeling as if your head was on fire with rage. You didn’t even get time to grieve your romance before you were shoved into the hands of a stranger?

“Are you fucking kidding me.”

“Do not speak to us that way.” Your father tried to discipline you, but your rage was nothing compared to him.

“ARE YOU KIDDING?! I DON’T WANT A MATE I WANT TO BE ALONE. FUCK!” You voice was raspy and loud, sure the entire clan could hear you screams.

“You do not get a choice in this. It is for the clan.” You looked into your parents eyes but all you could see is betrayal, how is this fair?

You didn’t have the energy to fight this any longer. Without Neteyam, your purpose was gone. How was anyone meant to fight for their love when their love had been stripped away from them.

“Fine.” Your mother looked at both her mate and daughter with concern. You had given up. “I don’t care anymore, because it is obvious you do not.”

“You brat-” Your mother coughed loudly to stop your father. Sharing glances, you all looked to each other.

“Thank you daughter for doing this.” Sneering you looked directly into your mothers eyes and then to your fathers.

“I am not your daughter.” Their faces had fallen, the same emotion Neteyam had when he first saw you earlier. They had no right to be upset. Not when they chose this.

As your parents left without a word, you curled into a ball, folding in on yourself trying to shy away from the burden of grief and love tugging on your heart. The pain was indescribable, like someone had taken your heart and diced it in front of you.

That morning your mother had put you in your best attire. A top adorned in red beads and yellow feathers that represented your ikran was placed on top of you. Your usually loincloth had been replaced with one of prettier colour and material, more delicate to look at. Lastly, your hair had been let out, reaching past your shoulder blades as a yellow flower was stuck behind your left ear.

“You look beautiful Y/N.” Your mother had her hands over her mouth adoringly. “Doesn’t she look wonderful?” she asked your father as he replied with a proud nod.

A horn was sounded. Here they come. Entitled pieces of shit, thinking that they could mate into your clan. This wasn’t fair, you just wanted to see Neteyam. You wanted to cry in his arms, yet here you were walking out into the crowd of people. Drums being beat as horns blew. You tried to look poised, to try and look like you weren’t writhing in anxiety of who this man would be.

There flew in three ikrans. Why did it look so familiar? Why was the flashing colours of these animals bringing you back to siting in the forest with your love. You must be going insane.

“Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan! Welcome! Toruk Makto! Welcome!”

What.

No.

This cannot be happening. But it was.

There he stood in front of you. Just as frozen as you. The quiver of your lips came back as you saw him stand in front of you in disbelief.

“Neteyam?” He walked towards you slowly, reaching his shaking hand out to you. You paced towards him, wrapping your hand around his and bringin it to your chest. “It’s! It’s you!” you felt as if you were to burst in relief

“My love, it is you?” Neteyam’s free hand came to caress your cheek, his heart was sparkling, he felt a weight being lift off his shoulders the minute you came into view.

“It is me.” Neteyam’s lip quivered as he sucked in a short breath, trying desperately to not look as if he was a madman. “Kiss me.”

“What?”

“Kiss me Neteyam.” He complied, lips melting together in a harmonious union. Love mixed with the salty tears on both your cheeks as he held you closely to him. You kissed him deeply, ignoring the stares and confusion around you. He was here right in front of you, you would never let him go again. Never.

──── ⑅*❀*⑅ ────

hope you enjoyed please comment and reblog and like I appreciate it so much !!

2K notes · View notes

thefreakandthehair · 1 year

Text

happy (belated, sorry!) birthday to @henderdads!! this was supposed to be just fluffy but y'know. the hurt/comfort monster got me. I hope you had a perfect day! <333

can also be found here on AO3!

stars and satellites (will always bring me home)

---

Eddie tries not to think about his birthday.

He and Wayne have an agreement to let it pass with little to no mention, save for his 16th birthday when he’s able to start driving and his 18th birthday when he hands Eddie a few singles and tells him to go grab himself his first legal pack of cigarettes— and to get one for him, too, since he’ll be at the store anyways.

It works for Eddie and he goes as far as to hide his birthday from his friends for as long as he possibly can. Gareth, Jeff, and Frank still have no idea. The new found family he’s been adopted into since averting the (apparently third or fourth) Apocalypse don’t know, despite being asked by just about everyone at least once. It’s a fine-tuned skill, evading the question and changing the subject.

“Hey Eddie, when’s your birthday? Did we miss it already this year?” Dustin asks at Will’s own birthday party.

Eddie smirks. “Roll for insight, Young Henderson.”

“Alright, got a die?”

“Nope, darn!” Eddie pretends to pat the pockets of his jeans before shrugging and walking away.

Nancy is the hardest to fend off but unless she finds his birth information through the microfiche at the library, he’s stalwart in his stance. She might, though, and that’s his only real concern. But by and large, his friends let it go, chalking it up to one of Eddie’s many quirks and occasionally joking about it when someone else’s birthday rolls around. The one person who won’t put it down though?

Steve Harrington.

Steve I Throw Parties For Everyone Harrington. Steve I’m Going To Annoy You About This At Least Once A Week Harrington. Steve Is It Today? Is It Tomorrow? You Seem Like A Winter Baby? Harrington.

And truthfully, Eddie can’t find it within himself to be genuinely mad at him about it, despite having snapped at everyone else who’s dared to ask more than once. Eddie grants Steve a pass for reasons he’s not quite ready to evaluate just yet, reasons he knows he’ll never tell, reasons that would require the same security clearance that knowing his birthday would because knowing his birthday would mean knowing this past. He’s not sure yet if he wants everyone— or anyone— to know about his dear old dad.

In true The Universe Must Be Sentient And Actively Hate Me fashion, Steve happens to ask him again on his actual birthday. Steve’s backyard is glowing in the bluish tint of the full moon, stars twinkling in and out behind rogue clouds and smoke billowing from the joint they pass between them up towards the sky. It’s cold— early February in Hawkins is no joke— but Steve and Eddie have discovered an affinity for the cold breeze against their skin, finding it grounding and centering in its own way.

“So, when’s your birthday? Is it getting close?” It’s a question Eddie’s heard no less than twenty times in the same cheeky intonation, Steve having learned not to expect anything besides an out of pocket response. What he doesn’t expect is silence. Steve never expects silence from Eddie.

He turns to look at Eddie and sees him sitting in the same patio chair he’s been in all night, right next to him— too close, but not close enough at the same time. One leg is drawn up beneath one thigh and Eddie looks up at the sky, pointedly avoiding eye contact. If the moment didn’t feel as heavy as it does, Steve would find himself staring at the muscles of his neck and the way his throat bobs when he swallows. It is heavy though, and Steve can only focus on the weight of the space between them.

“Hey, you good? You know I’m just fucking with you, right?” Steve asks, passing the joint back to him as an excuse to pull his attention back from the sky above them. Of all of the things Steve’s imagined having to fight for attention from, the moon was certainly not one of them but he supposes that tracks for Eddie. Nothing about Eddie is according to plan.

Eddie takes the joint and carefully avoids Steve’s eyes, keeping his glance at his hands before returning to the stars and taking a deep inhale. Another few hits will make this all go away, he thinks to himself. The day had been difficult— memories he’d rather not have creeping up and wrapping themselves around his limbs like living vines.

Steve watches little bits of smoke curl out on his exhale and he shifts uncomfortably in his chair.

“Ed, seriously, I’ll stop asking. I’m just teasing, I’ll quit it, just stop with the silence, dude. It’s… weird.”

“Why?” Eddie asks, quietly. It’s just a single word but he’ll take it.

“Why is it weird?”

“Yeah.”

“Because you’re not quiet. You don’t do silence unless something’s wrong.”

“Maybe something is.”

Steve sits for a second, his brain running in circles around itself. You fucked it up, c’mon, you kept asking, you knew better, why’d you have to keep prying, now you made him uncomfortable like you swore not to do—

“I can smell your brain overheating from here, Steve. Relax. It’s not you, I promise.” Eddie chuckles humorlessly under his breath and he makes a spontaneous decision, an impulsive decision he might regret but there's a little part of him that finds it hard to believe he'll ever regret sharing something with Steve.

“Then what is it? What’s wrong? Is it, y’know, End of the World- related or…?” Steve’s voice trails off. Part of the reason they’ve come to have these nights smoking in the cold, alone together, is that exactly: End of the World- related invisible scars. But Eddie just shakes his head no and sighs, placing the joint down on the glass patio table.

“It’s today.”

“Huh?”

Eddie turns to face him and raises both eyebrows. “It’s. Today. My birthday. It’s today.”

“Wait— shit, really? And you’re telling me?” Steve’s heart pounds in his chest, not blind to the gravity of Eddie telling him his closest kept secret.

Eddie shrugs and smiles without it touching his eyes. “Guess so. Take it to your grave, please?”

“Well yeah, man, I don’t make a habit of going around and telling people’s secrets. But… thanks? For trusting me?” Steve reaches the few inches to Eddie’s shoulder and lets his hand rest there. It's contact but it's not enough. It’s never really enough, but it has to be. He has no reason to think Eddie feels the same way about him and he’ll be damned if he loses his best friend— second only to Robin, but that’s besides the point. The point is, he rests his hand on Eddie’s shoulder and lets his fingers move in slow repetitive circles into the fabric of Eddie’s jacket.

“You’re welcome. It’s just— I have some… not so great memories attached to my birthday so I don’t celebrate it. Rather it just not exist, to be honest.”

“Well, since it’s a big secret, you could just make it another day, y’know. We’ll all respect it and you can, like, create new memories and start over.”

Eddie glances down at Steve’s hand wandering, absentmindedly trailing his fingers along the base of his neck and to collarbone. Fuck his birthday, and fuck the horrible memories Clyde Munson had poured into it. The way his heart tumbles from his chest into his mouth negates all of it.

“Really? Any suggestions?” He breathes, relieved that Steve doesn’t pry. He’s learned enough about Steve’s own childhood though to imagine why he doesn’t. For all of their outward differences, Steve gets it. Gets him.

Steve watches Eddie’s eyes widen before they glance down at his hand and back up, filled with something that looks dangerously like hope. Steve, in turn, feels something dangerously like hope.

“Maybe the day you woke up? In the hospital? I don’t know, I can see you liking the whole phoenix thing. Rebirth into something beautiful or whatever.”

Eddie’s breath catches. Beautiful feels like an overinflated balloon floating precariously through the woods in Steve’s backyard— cheerful and buoyant, but always at the risk of catching on too sharp of a branch and tumbling back down to the hard ground.

“Beautiful, huh?”

“Yeah. It fits you.” Steve’s hand wanders again, this time intentionally, to brush a piece of Eddie’s hair behind his ear and cupping the side of his face.

“Steve…” He whispers as they move slowly— achingly slowly— together, as though attached by an invisible thread. And maybe they are— the little red string of fate that’s been pulling them closer and closer since the day they met. Close enough now, finally, for Eddie to know how Steve’s lips feel against his, how his hands feel in his hair, how his heart beats in his chest when Eddie presses one hand there to tether himself to reality with nothing. No one but his stars watch him find his way back home, to Steve, where he should've been all along.

Eddie’s new birthday becomes April 2nd, the day he’d woken up from the induced coma. Eddie and Steve’s anniversary becomes February 9th, his old birthday. He can’t imagine a better way to create beauty out of ashes.

#steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steddie fic #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stfic #myfic

926 notes · View notes

yukishirostar · 3 months

Text

So people are talking about a post in the Zolu tag by a certain tumblr user in regards to their issues with Zolu as a ship. They shall be unnamed because i dont wish to bring attention to them and instead just want to focus on their arguments because they're not the first people to make some of these points and so this is also an opportunity for me to talk about these things (a tweet is going around on Twitter containing these screenshots with the username so you can find it there if you need to anyway).

The way this person dismisses the relationship between Zoro and Luffy as a result of needing to pair gay Zoro with someone is too laughable, they must be very fit in order to be able to do these mental gymnastics. I believe that many people who are going on about the Zolu scenes in the OPLA were already Zolu shippers who were familiar with the original story and are enjoying the moments because they were well, really good Zolu moments? And there is actually, shockingly, many good Zolu moments in the original story too which is why many people ship them. Wild, I know.

Then there's 'straight-washed Sanji'. Equally if not more of a bizarre thing to believe. I might make some people mad especially the Sanji stans out there who constantly insist on the 'repressed queer' narrative with his character, but Sanji is written pretty explicitly to be seen as a cisgender and heterosexual character. The way you say with your whole chest that Luffy is 'canonically' aroace but don't acknowledge that Sanji is 'canonically' cishet is beyond hypocritical. If you believe Sanji looking like a 'misogynistic straight man' is different from the way he is written in canon then maybe you should go back and reread/rewatch series with your eyes open this time. If you wish to headcanon him with the frankly offensive repressed bisexual/transgender cliché then go ahead, but that is clearly not the intention Oda has with his character.

There's also the fact that aroace people can uh. Be in relationships. Get married. Have children. Did it occur to you that many people who ship Zolu ship them as an ace couple or-

First thing I want to say here, as a trans man who is 'mlm', can other dudes stop with this idea that women or fem-aligned individuals enjoying homosexual relationships between two men is inherently fetishising or that as a masc-aligned individual your enjoyment of a ship is morally superior in some way. Stop pulling out your 'mlm/ transmasc / cis gay' card in order to justify why your ship is superior. Its cringe af.

But if we are to insist that 'cishet female gaze fetishising mlm' is going on then ironically Zosan fits that the better than any ship in the fandom. It being by far the most popular mlm ship means there is likely a higher proportion of people who identify as cishet women who ship it. Its also the classic 'two men who dislike/hate eachother and have a toxic relationship but hot sexual tension' slash/yaoi stereotype. Majority of Zosan I've come across is depicting Zoro as the masculine male man in the relationship while Sanji the effeminate twink that Sanji stans project themselves onto and they go crazy for the bickering that is apparently reminiscent to them of a toxic heterosexual marriage. Meanwhile every Zolu/Luzo shipper I've interacted with has been some flavour of queer and Zolu is closest to the 'falling in love with your same sex bestie' narrative that the majority if not every non-heterosexual person has experienced at least once in their lifetime. This is just my personal view of course, but I think noting a difference in perspective on this topic is interesting and reveals that at the end of the day this is totally subjective and based purely on anecdotes.

Also it's just a very weird point here that apparently OP has 'plenty of varied queer rep' (it actually doesn't have that many canonical queer characters in relation to its cast size but anyway) and other media doesn't so shipping aroace characters in gay relationships is valid in those but not in One Piece … HUH???? So you're saying if One Piece had 'less' queer rep, then Zolu would be fine to ship? Idek my brain hurts.

"I have black friends so I'll speak for the black community and get offended for them" (btw this person then proceeded to block aroace people who had issues with their depiction of aroace people).

Also if we're talking canonical depictions, the only thing Zoro has been canonically depicted as is also aroace, equally if not moreso than Luffy. So by your own rules, you can't ship a cishet (sanji) with an aroace (zoro), therefore Zosan is now invalid. Stop erasing Zoro's aroace identity bigot.

'Categorically wrong' makes me laugh. I don't ship Zoro and Nami but like, people can ship what they want to??

'The general public is aware enough of gay people and how to spot them these days' uh... firstly this sounds very homophobic. Secondly the general public (cishet ppl) are famously bad at recognising queerness even when its in flashing lights before them. Thirdly you make it sound like Zoro was going around on roller skates and booty shorts listening to YMCA and Madonna in the show. I do agree he was gay-coded but it was mostly because he had sexual tension with every man he interacted with, not for the strange reasons you pointed out...

Its kinda the elephant in the room too but like. These are just headcanons. You can have multiple headcanons and interpretations of a character's sexuality. I can see Zoro as aroace virgin one day and a gay h*e the next. I'm actually allowed, legally, to do that.

The way they think shipping Zolu is harmful to aroace representation when BOTH characters are closest to being canonically aroace than anything yet ship Zosan, label being anti-Zolu as some kind of pro-ace activism, and then proceeded to block aroace people for criticising their incorrect depiction of what being aroace is...

This was a lot of words to say that you don't like a ship. Just say you don't like it, and it gets in the way of the ship you like, instead of writing a virtue signalling essay to justify your reasoning. Please.

They had some more to say on future posts I'll just pick my favourite bits

They really have this narrative that Zolu is only popular because of OPLA and can't fathom that its just a popular ship in general and always has been huh. And they couldn't make it more obvious that they're totally salty about it ranking in the top 100 most popular tumblr ships, lmao.

Your classic case of 'self-identifying ally who speaks over the people they are supposed allies of'. Its a general rule that you feel the need to declare yourself an ally you're probably not an ally, actual allies know they need to just shut up and do the work. Saying 'this character's aroace' and 'I have aroace friends' actually isn't what allyship is, thats just accepting that ace people exist which is like... the baseline.

Calling a wholesome loving ship like Zolu an icky ship is a severe consequence of online brain (this person is 26 years old btw)

#long post #Zolu #Luzo #One Piece #response

157 notes · View notes

cissyenthusiast010155 · 7 months

Note

Can you do Lady Lesso with prompt 12?

Sure, anon! Thank you for the request!! I took this opportunity to write some more Soft!Lesso 🥰 So, here’s some lovely fluff of Lesso and Girlfriend!Reader for you! 💞

Birthday Comfort ~Soft!Leonora Lesso xFem Girfriend!Teacher!Reader

Mommy… Masterlist

Requests & Prompt-List

#12. “Oh my... I’m... uh... speechless”

Warnings: fluffy fluff fluff, implied anxiety, birthday anxiety, bad birthday experiences, little angst, crying, kissing, hugging, comforting, etc.

Enjoy (:

The more you got to know Leonora Lesso, the more you found out all the things she hated.

Parties, disruptive students, tickles, pda, and the list goes on and on…

But out of all the things that Lesso disliked, her birthday was by far the worst.

“Wait what…? What’s wrong with your birthday?” You quizzically asked the red head, when she had confessed her distain for the special day.

Leonora huffed, taking a moment to set her half graded papers aside.

“I just never had good experiences with that day.” She confessed, “My parents often made it a big deal, as way to manipulate me. Then when I came to the school, I was afraid to tell people. No one asked, no one knew… It’s just a reminder to me of how lonely it was.”

“Oh Leo… I’m so sorry…” you comforted the red head.

Her words made your heart ache for your girlfriend. And by her tone, you could tell it was a touchy subject, so you didn’t push it any further than that.

However, you did resolve that day, that you were going to do something about her not having any good experiences on her birthday…

~~~

A couple months later, the dreaded day finally arrived…

Lesso woke up with a splitting headache. She winced in pain, getting up and getting herself some advil. She popped two little pills in her mouth and then made her way to her closet to get dressed.

Leonora knew since she lay in bed and her eyes had squinted open, what today was. She just did what she always did. Ignored her birthday. It was for the best, she always told herself.

Before she could enter her closet, you came knocking at her door. Lesso sighed at the distraction, but she had to admit, you as a distraction wasn’t too bad. The red head opened the door to you, letting you into her private quarters.

“Morning!” You chirped, giving Leonora a peck on the lips.

The woman blushed ever so slightly at the physical display of affection. She then grumbled a ‘morning’ back to you, before slowly going back to her previous efforts of getting her clothes for the day. She winced in pain once more.

“Headache…?” You immediately offered in comfort, knowing that look of pain on the red head well.

The woman nodded. As she stood at the door to the closet, Lesso couldn’t help but notice your apparent giddy and excited nature this morning. Your eyes were wide, you were bouncing on your heels, and you were nervously biting you lips.

“What’s up with you?” Lesso chuckled in light amusement, but also with a tone of skepticism.

“Ohh nothing…” you teased her with anticipation, trying to stifle your need to erupt in giggles and smiles, “How about you open your closet…?”

Lesso quirked her brow and then simply opened the door. She looked around for anything that might be out of place. Everything seemed untouched… Except for a one, black and brown, classy box, sitting on the middle of the closet floor.

“What’s this…?” Leonora asked, picking the box up and turning around to look at you quizzically.

“Your birthday present from me” you quipped with a light and happy shrug.

Lesso took a minute to process your words. She stared down at the wrapped gift box.

“I wanted to get you something… Please just open it…?” You explained in a softer voice.

She then nodded without words and began to open the box. Her hand slipped off the brown bow on the elegant black box, and she then opened the lid. The red head placed the box on her desk, then picking up the piece of clothing and holding it out in front of her, in order to get a look at it.

“Oh my…” A small gasp escaped Leonora’s lips as she stared at the fine, tailored trench coat in her hands. She placed it back in its box and said nothing. Her back was now faced to you, making you a little nervous as to what she thought about it.

“So… what do you think…?” You quietly asked.

After a minute, Leonora turned around. Her eyes were glossy as they met your gaze.

“…I’m... uh... speechless…” the redhead stammered.

A tear escaped her eye. You came up close to Leonora, taking her hands in your own.

“I just wanted you to have something nice, a good memory for your birthday…” you whispered.

More tears started to flow down the woman’s cheeks.

“Thank you…” she whispered.

Your own eyes started to tear up now.

“Of course.” You whispered back, tucking a stray strand of your girlfriends hair behind her ear.

Without warning, Leonora took you into a full embrace. For a second, you were shocked, but you quickly thawed out of alarm and snuggled yourself into the red head’s form.

“I love it…” Lesso confessed.

“I love you…” you responded.

“Love you too…” she whispered in response.

~~~

Leonora Lesso Masterlist

263 notes · View notes

avisisisis · 5 months

Text

I wanted to talk about this because it's been on my mind since I finished season 4

The way peaches represent Sun Wukong and Macaque's relationship. When they're happy in Flower Fruit Mountain, just the two of them — no brotherhood, no Jade Emperor (along with the entirety of Heaven), no journey to the West —, Sun Wukong gives Macaque a peach.

It doesn't look like much. SWK eats peaches all the time and his mountain is filled with them (seriously, is that all he eats? He really, really really loves peaches, man. How does he not get tired of them? I'd get grossed out after the first few months), of course he'd give one to his best friend! His most loyal subject!

In this scene, they're comfortable with each other. SWK talks about how what he wants is to live a lazy life with him and his monkeys, just chilling and eating peaches and basking in the sun? I can't remember exactly what he said but the point is, that he wants things to stay like that forever. Just the two of them (along with a thousand monkeys), living happily in a mountain with SWK being strong enough to protect all of them

SWK gives Macaque a peach. Macaque accepts it; the peach is fine. They're good.

The next time we see one of them give the other a peach is during another flashback, the one where SWK and Macaque are talking while Sun Wukong is sealed under the mountain (the position he was in looked so uncomfortable? He wasn't laying on his belly with the mountain on his back, he looked like he was trying to run away before he got caught with the mountain on his back), and they are definitely not good then

Macaque offers Sun Wukong a peach (read; Macaque offers Sun Wukong a peach, when Wukong was the one to offer one to Macaque before. The sun gives the moon its light, but the moon can't offer anything to it in return) and Sun Wukong acts passive aggressive with him, leaving it clear that no, Mac, he doesn't want that fucking peach (well, maybe he does, but we'll get to that later)

They're both in the right here, but they're also both in the wrong. Macaque is right for being angry at Sun Wukong. If he hadn't followed Azure's plan (he [Azure] was so fucking grooming that monkey, what the fuck. Not sexual btw), the brotherhood would've been fine, and Sun Wukong wouldn't be trapped under the mountain. However, Sun Wukong is also allowed to be angry at Macaque; from his POV, Macaque ran away from the fight when he realized they were losing. Macaque pretty much abandoned him first. I'd be angry too, honestly

Macaque is wrong for telling Sun Wukong that he's the one that got himself in that mess when really, that was partly Azure's fault. Weren't it for him Sun Wukong apparently wouldn't have cared about Heaven, since unlike what happens in JTTW (haven't read it yet, pls tell me if I'm wrong!), all he wanted was to live a comfortable life and train his troops (Azure was the one who saw him first; he found this... child? And thought that yeah, he can use this. He put him in a pedestal and showered him in compliments he didn't deserve nor want. He manipulated him to get what he wanted; not a king, but a weapon)

Sun Wukong is in the wrong for treating Macaque like shit here too, since he literally warned him and again, he wasn't at fault. Neither of them were!

Back to the point — in this scene, when Sun Wukong rejects the peach, Macaque crushes it with his hand. Later, after Macaque leaves, Sun Wukong expresses how he actually really wanted that peach. Or, in other words, Macaque tries to offer Sun Wukong his support, his friendship, and when Sun Wukong rejects it, he gives up and destroys any way of getting back together; later, it is revealed that Sun Wukong didn't genuinely want to be left alone, and that he did still wish to be friends, in a way

This, we can say is the point where their relationship was broken. The peach is left on the floor, abandoned, and Sun Wukong with it. As far as we know, Macaque didn't come back after, and even if he did it's pretty obvious that wouldn't have gone very well

(Also, just to add, and you can skip this part if you want! When Macaque is looking at the memory, he looks kinda confused? Like he doesn't remember it happening that way. Maybe that's one of the LBD messed with when she brought him back, if she even was touching them. I'm not sure if that's canon, I forgot. Please tell me if you know?)

The next and last time one of them offers the other a peach it's, again, Sun Wukong to Macaque (it's almost like that's the way it's meant to be. Huh. Sun and moon indeed haha!)

They're in a beach again! Yay! Sun Wukong's (and possibly Macaque's later, if he gets a proper redemption arc) friends and family (MK and the gang, and also the DBK fam) are there too. Sun Wukong is watching them in the sun (lol) when Macaque goes and joins him. He doesn't even go there to annoy him and as far as we know he didn't even get an invite, so he really just went to the event to chill with SWK. During this whole scene, we can see that Macaque isn't interested in starting a fight (fucking finally, man), even if Sun Wukong does act kinda aggressive at first. Which, y'know. Fair

They're in a beach again. Presumably not the same one, but still a beach. They're back to the beginning, but not really, because they're both different people. They've changed, and their relationship(s) with them

This time, it's not an actual peach being offered. It's a peach popsicle. I don't know how to spell that. Sun Wukong offers it to Macaque, and Macaque looks surprised but eventually accepts it. He appears to be happy with this

This I believe represents how they're both willing to begin a new relationship (platonic, romantic or something else, see it as you want). A new relationship; a changed one

Sun Wukong doesn't give Macaque an actual peach, he gives him a peach popsicle. He's offering his friendship, an offering Macaque accepts, but it's not the same it was before, and it never will be. They know they'll never be the way they were in the past, and they accept it. Sun Wukong offers Macaque his friendship, telling him that it won't be the same, but that if they want to heal then they've got to accept that — and Macaque takes it. It's not the same, there are mistakes that can never be fixed and actions that can't be undone, but they're willing to start anew

It'll be different, but it could be even better if they try (if they fucking COMMUNICATE for once)

And the popsicle will eventually melt. They'll eventually fight again; they'll fall apart, and maybe get so angry at each other they'll refuse to talk to each other for a while (y'know how stubborn they can be), but (usually depending on where you live) popsicles can be surprisingly cheap!

If the popsicle melts, if they struggle, they'll just buy another one, they'll just keep trying

Now all we need is a scene where Sun Wukong (or Macaque, to show them as equals if not in power then in... y'know, their relationship? I'm not sure what the word would be) gives Macaque an actual peach to show how they're them again. Not the same, never the same, but still them

#this is kinda making me want to eat peaches #it was so hard to put this in words. o didn't do it very well and some things are probably confusing n not what i wanted to express #but oh well #not everything's perfect. i'll get better at this some day #lmk #lego monkie kid #sun wukong #swk #the monkey king #the six eared macaque #liu er mihou #shadowpeach #i guess?? me personally i see them as qpr but you can take this as whtever you want!#platonic or romantic or qpr. like what u like i won't judge :) unless it's like. swk or pigsy n mk as a ship or stuff like that. then ew #peaches #this is about them so i had to tag em #it just seemed fair #(mentioned) azure lion #lmk season 4 #lmk season four #i might talk about this later #mentions of grooming #idk if i spelled everything right :((#it's 3am and I've been typing since 2:30... something. two thirty something #2:30+#not 100% abt the exact time but it's been almost hslf an hour #i reread this to check for any typos but again. it's 3am and i'm tired so i might have missed smth #avis talks #avis' post

146 notes · View notes

not-your-fucking-kacchan · 2 years

Note

Aizawa x class 1-A reader when he finds out reader is also doing vigilante work? I’ve always wondered how he would feels about that

Icl I feel like he would understand tbh like he was probably doing the exact same thing before his career took off. He has a very strong moral standpoint so I figure he would place justice above legality but hes still a teacher and would have to disapprove but he wouldn't be like angry??

I feel like this was portrayed in the anime but it's been a hot minute since I've watched it - what do you think? :D

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 <3

Check out my kinktober!

𝐀𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐰𝐚 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜) - 𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐒𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞

Dark circles decorate your eyes as you sit slouched at the desk before class starts. Sleep had eluded you as you spent the night with your parents, helping them feed into their warped, self-indulgent sense of justice by doing vigilante work.

Usually, you'd consider yourself to be at a strong, good moral standpoint, focused on doing good by the people rather than focusing on legality and logistics. But to be quite honest, this self-righteous act of "freeing the people" is starting to become exhausting. It's actually getting on your nerves, really.

You love your parents, but they can be very, exhaustingly eccentric at times, and sometimes outright smug. It's absolutely infuriating. It's so difficult to watch that it hurts, and the more you think about it, the more bitter you begin to feel.

Or maybe this is just the exhaustion talking. Who knows?

It feels like you're just sacrificing little pieces of yourself at this point, giving your body and soul to some 'vigilante work' and your training to persue your career as a hero.

Aizawa is the first to notice the change in your attitude. He is the first to realise that you may be burning out, and he's the first to genuinely worry about you.

As your teacher, and considering the amount of security hazards your class has been subject to in the last year, Aizawa is well within his right to keep tabs on all of you and your home lives. He knows your secret.

After class ends, you're pulled aside by your teacher.

Part of you wants to cry. What is it this time? A failed test? Maybe a lecture on missed homework.

Apparently not. And judging by the look on his face, it's much more serious than a missed assignment. He looks... genuinely concerned, which is an expression you've gotten to see far too many times than you should have to. Wow, you think. The poor guy deserves a break.

"I know what you've been doing every other night, so don't bother trying to lie. I want to say that I'm proud you're taking your hero work so seriously, but don't you think you're overdoing it? Maybe even just a little? You're exhausting yourself, and pretty soon you're going to burn out. Did you even sleep last night?"

Oh, like he can talk about sleep and burnout of all things.

And really, he can. But the brewing bitterness and hostility inside of you is starting to bubble, and you can feel in the back of your throat that a breakdown is imminent. God, don't cry. Please, not now, of all times.

Shiny, salty tears start to collect at your waterline, and the tired teacher lets out a defeated sigh, placing his hand on your shoulder. It's an oddly comforting gesture, really.

"I-... I just want to help... My parents will go out with or without me- and they're not very experienced- so I just worry that if I'm not there, something will happen..."

"Look... The first part of helping is knowing how to best help yourself. Look after yourself, or you might not live long enough to see yourself become the hero you've always wanted to be... Youre a hero, not a martyr - the self sacrifice isn't necessary yet."

Wise words from a man who's seen it all.

He looks disappointed in you, at the very least, but there's a spark of pride in his eye for his tryhard students who do the best they can, and even if you don't see it yet, you will soon enough.

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction #mha #bnha #bnha fluff #bnha headcanons #mha fluff #aizawa x reader #mha aizawa #bnha aizawa #aizawa x you #aizawa x y/n #platonic aizawa x reader #aizawa x reader fluff #dadzawa

985 notes · View notes

dearshelby · 11 months

Note

Hey, Lora! I adore your dark headcanons. I'd like to ask you to write a headcanon for yandere Thomas where the reader is kidnaped)

You are very talented

🩷🩷🩷

Hello! Thanks a lot 🤗 I didn't stick to the usual Stockholm Syndrome story because I thought it'd be cliche, I hope this fits your taste!

• Your torment started in the first months of 1919, the great war broke Europe's economy and as result of that, you had to abandon every dream to provide for yourself and your family.

• The salaries were low, the jobs were rough and you didn't have much experience in anything. You were about to accept a job opportunity in a factory when the light at the end of the tunnel, that eventually would turn into a frightening darkness, showed up: A betting shop in need of a bookmaker.

• At first, you were intimidated by the male lead ambient. You never worked in a place like that before and the illegally worried you, however it was still better than a factory.

• The woman to interview you was serious and intimidating, Mrs. Polly Gray explained she couldn't pay much, times were hard for everyone. After finding out about your lack of experience, she backed off and that was when you met him…

• Thomas Shelby was Polly's nephew and responsible for attracting new gamblers, the moment he set his eyes on you, it was like time froze. You've heard the rumors about him and the Shelby family as a whole, but you had no idea of the sickening tendencies hidden under his handsome face.

• He was the one to step in and argue you'd gather experience with time. Walking over Polly's authority, he hired you.

• From then on, you worked from 8:00 a.m to 6:30 p.m, compared to the working hours and salaries around, you got lucky. The job was relatively easy, the other employees were friendly and besides the tough pose, the Shelbys were nice people.

• With the past of time though, you noticed a certain favoritism coming from Mr. Shelby, Tommy as he asked to be called. No gambler could stay at your desk for more than five minutes without getting a stare from him, on rainy nights he allowed you to leave earlier than everyone and he often checked on you, asking if you needed something or if someone was bothering you.

• Also, as an addiction to this strange event, some nights while walking home you noticed someone following you from far, which forced you to ask Scudboat, your working mate, to accompany you. However, once he started to, it didn't take long for the mysterious person to leave you alone. After that, you noticed Scudboat and Tommy's relationship deteriorated.

• Since it was too soon to make assumptions, you let the subject die, there was no need to spoil your relationships at work over something you weren't sure of. A few weeks went by until Tommy started to surround your desk again, this time with a more straightforward approach.

• He asked questions about your personal life and offered himself to walk you home (or actually, gave you an ultimatum). Not wishing to make things awkward, you saw yourself obligated to accept.

• That night you felt strange in his company, hesitant to behave freely because you still remembered the terrible rumors, but interested in an unknown side of him. He didn't seem intimidating under the moonlight, walking slowly with a cigarette between his lips.

• However, you couldn't focus solemnly on him when you got home and found the broken door handle. Someone had broken into your house and you had to hold yourself back from panicking. Like a true gentleman, Tommy offered himself to walk in first, he checked every room and stated there was no one there anymore.

• Apparently, nothing was stolen either, making you wonder what interest someone would have into breaking in. Tommy comforted you by saying it was probably some idiot looking for a place to hide from the police, but if you felt unsafe, he'd gladly keep you company.

• You refused, not wanting to step over any lines, besides everything he was still your boss and you wanted to keep a professional impression. After this occurrence, your routine carried on incredibly quietly, Tommy walked you home and sometimes flirted, you never responded to any of his advances. You also started to look for another job, believing the invasion of your home was the result of your proximity with the Shelbys and their gang.

• Every opportunity you got was ruined by sudden lacks of employees at the betting shop, forcing you to stay until late hours or people not being interested in hiring you. The upsetting situation eventually guided you to the Garrison, where you could drink away your frustration and he always kept you company.

• Suddenly, you got the perfect opportunity, the interview went well and all you had to do was to sign the contract next week. You went to the Garrison to celebrate, Tommy congratulated you but he didn't seem very happy and then, on the very next day, you received a dismissing letter.

• Days later, when you confessed your frustration after he walked you home at the end of your shift, he was comprehensive in a way you never imagined he could. You'd be glad if he had stopped at the soothing hug.

• Tommy cupped your face and attempted to kiss you, you immediately looked the other way, apologized and went inside. Everything was awkward from then on. Avoiding confrontation, you kept your head low when he was around.

• Logically, this couldn't keep up forever, he demanded to talk to you after long, rough weeks. It was weird to enter the Shelbys' house and sit on their kitchen's table, especially to talk about that matter.

"I believe I've made my intentions towards you very clear," he started, "I need to know if I'll be reciprocated or if I'm wasting my time,"

• Even if you had a really tiny soft spot for him, you weren't able to picture a future by his side. Tommy was a man on the run and involved in questionable business, much more than the betting shop, you were sure of it.

"I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, but I'm not interested on you like that," you explained, "I hope we can still be friends, I enjoy your company besides everything,"

"Alright," he nodded, "will I see you on the Garrison tonight?"

"Yes, of course." you smiled, glad he wasn't offended by your rejection.

• Later that day, the pub was strangely quiet, he leaned on the counter with a scow on his face. Noticing your arrival, he poured you a glass, whiskey wasn't your usual drink, but you went along with it anyway.

• Clearly you shouldn't have, minutes later your head was spinning, you felt nauseous and about to pass out. The last thing you saw was Tommy's worried face.

• Waking up in an unknown bedroom, you realized someone had changed your clothes to pajamas. Still dizzy, you found out the door and window were locked, leaving no option but to call for help.

• After a few minutes, Tommy showed up with a glass of tea and a sandwich, there was a creepiness in his eyes you couldn't shake off, the possibility crossed your mind but you didn't want to believe, it couldn't be, you must've passed out and he helped you, that was all.

"What happened?" you quietly asked under a shaky breath.

"You drank too much, love," he lied.

"No, I had one glass, just one,"

"Alright," he sighed, "I won't lie to you, you passed out and I took you home,"

"The door was locked," you gulped, "and you didn't have to change my clothes, whose pajamas is this?"

"Yours,"

"No, they're not,"

"They are, just like this is your home now," he explained, his tone giving you bad shivers.

"What do you mean?"

"I talked to your mother, you know? She said-"

"You don't know who my mother is," you interrupted.

"But I do, she's a lovely old lady living alone at thirty minutes away from here, or so you wrote on the notebook you keep on the center table,"

• Only then you connected the dots, your stomach churned at the bitter realization, it was Tommy who followed you home, he was responsible for the invasion of your house and for your job interviews never going well.

"... you're fucking mad," you whispered.

"Your mother told me you were always complicated when it came to men, you've never been in a relationship, so I took this decision for you-"

"What decision?"

"A taster of how good life could be if you weren't just some bookmaker," he said, "I can give you much more than that,"

"I don't want anything from you," you teared up, "let me go, Tommy,"

"Listen, Y/N, this can be easier or harder for both of us, it depends on you,"

"How so?"

"You behave yourself and everything will be like before, you can even work in the fucking betting shop again, but at the end of the day you come back here," he pointed to the floor to indicate the bedroom.

"Do you think this will make me love you?"

"Relationships are sustained by respect and mutual benefit, love comes with time,"

"In your sick mind perhaps," you hissed.

"... I want to take care of you, Y/N, and I assure you won't find anyone better, not in Small Heath at least," he confessed, "now, eat something, I'll check on you later,"

• With disturbing normality, Tommy got close and pecked your lips. Thinking fast, you cupped his cheek, giving back another two tiny kisses. Looking surprised, he gently squeezed your arm and headed out, locking you again.

• Now, you had two options: pretend to be in love with him until you have the opportunity to escape or truly try to indulge in his plan.

• The choice is yours.

#dark!tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #dark!AU

373 notes · View notes

odyssean-flower · 7 months

Text

The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 2 - Spring: Three Meetings and a Proposal

Masterpost Pairing: Neuvillette x Female Reader Summary: Somehow, you keep running into Neuvillette. When something unexpected happens, he offers you an unexpected proposal. Warnings: None except for restrictive gender roles, also for some reason Fontaine’s regency england (sort of) now? Note: I update this story on AO3 first so please go over there if you'd like to read it faster

Have a picture of neuvillette standing next to the skull of Oroboshi

Previous | Next

A month had passed since that unexpected encounter. You hadn’t told anyone about it, because it felt unreal even to you. Maybe you really had drank too much champagne.

In any case, the events of the ball were quickly forgotten amidst the immense preparations you had to do to obtain your governess license. It was a long, grueling process that involved leaving your hometown and moving all the way to the city, but it was about to bear fruit at last. After one last history exam, you would finally obtain your license and be able to advertise your services in the newspapers and bulletin boards.

And then, you would finally be blissfully freed from all those marriage-hunting obligations. No more balls, no more disappointments...

It was those thoughts that kept you going as you stared at the tiny words in your history textbook while being surrounded by people who seemed determined to scream their lungs out today.

“Get him, get him!” your sweet, adorable sister shouted next to you.

“Send him to jail!” her new beau also shouted from next to her. I’m pretty sure one can’t be sent to jail for hoarding ashtrays, you thought, but said nothing. He probably couldn’t even hear you, anyways.

Today, you were forced to chaperone your sister and the viscount’s son on their “romantic engagement.” Said “romantic engagement” happened to be attending a trial at the Opera Epiclese. Apparently, this was a popular date spot for young couples. It was things like these that made you feel dreadfully old and out of touch sometimes.

The seats were packed for today’s trial, for good reason. This trial was just one part of a lengthy divorce proceeding between a celebrity couple, in which they were trying to figure out how to divide their many, many assets. It was akin to a serial and even had its own dedicated column in the newspapers.

You glanced over at your sister and the young lord. They were whispering together and giggling. Even though the viscount’s son seemed a bit, for the lack of a better word, dopey, from your short interactions with him you could tell that he was a good-hearted and generous young man. Plus, there was a certain charm in watching him and your sister getting closer, the same feeling one would get from observing two cute puppies playing together. Perhaps your mother would live to see one of her daughters get married after all.

You looked back down at your book. You were on the chapter about Remuria, one of your favorite subjects. You loved reading about that long-deceased God King and his drowned empire of music. You knew that there were extensive ruins from that period near the town of Petrichor, but it was much too far and dangerous (without shelling out the exorbitant amounts of money for protection) to go there from the Court of Fontaine, so you could only ever dream of visiting there.

The cacophony faded into the background as you became engrossed in the topic.

It felt like no time had passed before you felt your sister shake your arm. “Sister, Sister! The trial’s over! Let’s go.”

You looked up to see people walking past you towards the exit. Judging from their chatter, the wife seemed to have won. What she was going to do with a vault of ashtrays, you had no idea.

You snapped your book closed and followed everyone else out. “I don’t know how you can read that boring book when there’s such an exciting show going on,” the viscount’s son commented, eyeing the thick textbook.

“Oh, that’s one of Sister’s special powers! The ability to read anywhere, no matter how loud or unsuitable the place is. I don’t know how she does it,” your sister chimed in.

“You can learn it too, you know, if you apply yourself to it,” you informed her.

“Ugh, you’re already talking like a governess,” your sister pouted.

“A governess? You want to be that?” the viscount’s son said, sounding incredulous. Seriously, why does everyone sound so shocked when they hear about it? “I had a governess once. She was always alone and wasn’t even allowed to eat with the family. Seems like a rather miserable job if you asked me.”

“Yeah, that’s what I told her, but she won’t change her mind! She kept talking about how it’s ‘her role in life’ and her ‘fate.’”

You tuned the two out. You had heard variations of this conversation too many times over the years.

Once the three of you reached the main hall, the darling couple decided to go get some refreshments while waiting for the rain to subside. You decided to sit on one of the comfy stuffed couches under the stairs and resume your studying.

The words on the pages flowed into your brain. Remus...Sybilla...harmosts... what would it be like to live in that era? Or at least, to walk the places where these words were once part of everyday life? To touch the artifacts—the once-cherished, once-used items—of the people from back then?

You shook your head. Sometimes, your mind would drift to things that weren’t anywhere on the horizon of your life, just like how you would sometimes indulge yourself by reading romance novels and light novels from Inazuma. No, you needed to hone your mind and focus on your reality. You were in no position to move off your pre-determined path. You needed to think about how you were going to teach these concepts to children—

“Good day to you, Miss [Name].”

You nearly jumped at that voice. A very familiar voice. Knowing who you were going to see, you stood up with your head bowed.

“Good day to you, Monsieur Neuvillette.”

You lifted your head. The man himself was standing in front of you. You had only ever seen his face in the papers and only met him once (in the dark, no less), but you thought he seemed a bit fatigued. You couldn’t blame him, though. You were sure you would feel the same if you had to preside over such a ridiculous series of trials.

“I do apologize for disturbing you,” Neuvillette immediately said upon seeing your face. Maybe your poker face wasn’t as good as you thought.

“It’s alright, Monsieur. I don’t mind.” You tried your best to sound like you meant it.

“May I sit down?” Neuvillette said after a pause. You nodded, and he proceeded to sit next to you. You moved all the way to the other end of the couch. It didn’t seem like anyone had noticed you two, considering how this couch was somewhat hidden away from sight, but you couldn’t take any chances. A governess’s job prospects hinged on having a spotless reputation, after all.

“Are you here with someone?” Neuvillette asked.

“Yes, Monsieur. I’m chaperoning my sister, who has been invited on a date here.”

Speaking of your sister, you glanced out of the corner of your eye to see how the two lovebirds were faring. They were currently in the process of choosing from a large menu, giggling and nudging each other as they did so. They probably weren’t going to be finished any time soon.

“Date...” Neuvillette mused. “Yes, I’ve heard that it has become quite a trend among young people to have romantic engagements at the Opera. I must admit, I don’t quite approve of having the sanctity of trials be used for such purposes.”

“I agree,” you nodded. “Although since trials are already spectacles, I suppose this isn’t so preposterous.”

“You certainly don’t mince words, Miss [Name].” there was an amused note in his voice. All you could do was shrug and smile. It wasn’t like you could refute him.

Another awkward silence. Maybe you had offended him with your comment? You didn’t really know why he would be offended though, considering that trials in Fontaine were like performances.

“What did you think of the trial, Miss [Name]?”

You had to think about it for a minute. It felt like you were being quizzed on something you hadn’t studied for. “I think they are both idiots, Monsieur. They would save everyone’s time by dueling it out between themselves.”

Neuvillette blinked for a minute, and then a small laugh slipped out his mouth. You took that to mean that he agreed with you.

His lilac eyes moved to the thick textbook in your hand, seeing it closely for the first time. His brow furrowed. “Were you reading that during the trial?”

Under his puzzled gaze, you felt like you had done something wrong. “Um, yes. Not out of disrespect for the proceedings, I assure you, Monsieur. But I have an important exam for my governess license coming up, so I need to grab any chance I have to study for it.”

“Studying in such a chaotic environment... you’re very dedicated to your goal. I can think of a few people who might be able to learn from you.”

You didn’t hear any sarcasm in his voice. He sounded genuinely impressed. You felt your shoulders relax. It had become an unfortunate tendency of yours to become defensive when you talked about these things. “Thank you, Monsieur.”

“What are you studying?” He leaned closer to you. How long is he going to stay here?

“History, Monsieur. I was reading about the older periods of Fontainian history like the Remurian Dynasty,” you opened your book and flipped to the chapter.

He tilted his head to the side as he looked at all the underlined passages and marginal notes on the pages. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t believe that the subject of Remuria would make up such a large portion of the exam that it would warrant all these notes. Is it a personal interest of yours?”

The idea that Neuvillette knew what was on the exam was surprising. You didn’t think it was something he would have much knowledge of, but since he was the head of the Maison Gestion, which administered the governess exams, maybe it wasn’t so surprising?

“...I suppose it is,” you said at last.

"What do you like about it?”

That question caught you off guard. "I just...do,” you said at last. “The story of that civilization is very fascinating to me, so I couldn’t help but read more about it.”

No one had ever asked you about this, so you didn’t know how to answer it.

Neuvillette looked down at your notes again. Was he reading them? You had the urge to close your book. Somehow, it felt like a violation of privacy, like he was reading your diary.

You were saved by the footsteps running up to you. “Sister! Sorry we took so long! We got the—oh Archons, is that Monsieur Neuvillette!?”

Your sister and the young master were both holding boxes of Conch Madeleines in their hands, staring at the Chief Justice with identical expressions of shock. You might have laughed if the atmosphere ’t so serious.

Neuvillette stood up. “Good day to you both,” he nodded towards them, then to you. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.”

The three of you watched as he left. Once he was out of earshot, your sister turned to you excitedly. “Sister! You know the Chief Justice?”

“I don’t,” you said, which was a half-truth. You really didn’t know him. “He just came up to me and started chatting.”

“Really?” she lifted an eyebrow. “The Chief Justice, who is so notoriously private that he rarely even does interviews, just randomly struck up a conversation with a stranger?”

“Look, I wish I could give you a good reason, but I can’t.”

Your sister continued to stare at you with narrowed eyes. You were usually pretty good at lying to people thanks to your excellent poker face, but your sister was one of the few people who could see right through you.

“Hey, it stopped raining!” Luckily, you were saved by the viscount’s son’s shout. “That was quicker than I expected.”

With snacks in hand, the three of you left the opera house and headed towards the aquabus station.

The exam day came, and in your honest opinion, you performed excellently. The questions were so easy that you could answer them in your sleep. The results would be finalized next week, and you knew for certain that you had qualified with flying colors. You handed the exam to the invigilator and left the Palais Mermonia with a spring in your step.

Now that you had the rest of the day free, whatever shall you do? Well, since the weather was so nice out, you thought you’d go to the Café Lucerne and get some Conch Madeleines as a celebratory snack. You had brought along your treasured copy of The History of the Decline and Fall of Remuria Volume 1 as well. Just the thought of spending the day eating sweets and reading your favorite book in the warm sunshine brought a smile to your face as you walked towards the elevator.

The thought distracted you so much that you didn’t notice the other occupant in the elevator until they cleared their throat. You spun around. It was as though fate was playing some kind of sick joke on you, since it was Neuvillette—who else could it be—standing in the tiny elevator space with you.

You thought about excusing yourself and leaving the elevator, but it was already descending.

“We do seem to meet quite often, Miss [Name],” he said. “My apologies.”

“Yes, we do indeed, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you said, resigning yourself to your fate. Why did he apologize just now?

“Did you have business at the Palais Mermonia today?” he asked.

“Yes. I had to write a history exam for my governess license.”

“Ah, I see. I wish you luck in passing.”

“Thank you, Monsieur,” you smiled and nodded.

An all-too-familiar silence fell. Couldn’t this elevator go any faster? It felt as though this shaft was going on forever.

You racked your brain for something to say but came up empty. You and Neuvillette simply lived in two completely different worlds. In situations like these, it was better to stay silent and pretend to be invisible, in your experience.

“So, Miss [Name], what do you think of the fall of Remuria? Do you believe it was truly predestined?”

“Huh?” That was the last thing you expected to hear.

Neuvillette repeated his question.

“I heard you the first time, Monsieur...I was just confused as to why you asked me that.”

“I simply want to know what a scholar of history like yourself thinks about it. I’ve asked this question to several others, and I’ve always received different answers. It’s very fascinating.”

A scholar of history? You felt embarrassed at how your heart lifted at hearing yourself described as such.

“Well, if you don’t mind listening to the opinions of an untrained layman like me, Monsieur...”

You cleared your throat and began to launch into the theory you had been brewing inside your head for several years. As you talked, the two of you walked out of the elevator and into the main hall, where people gawked at the Chief Justice listening attentively to a plain-looking woman prattling on about Remus and Boethius.

You noticed none of these things, for you had gotten too carried away with the excitement of finally having the opportunity to express your opinion on things that you actually cared about. You also didn’t notice the soft amusement in Neuvillette’s eyes as he observed you.

“...And so, I believe that Remuria might have lasted for much longer if those in power didn’t covet the things that weren’t meant for them, and instead focused their energies on preparing for their inevitable fate,” you concluded as the two of you neared the Café, then smiled up at him triumphantly. It was then that you realized that you had been the only one talking for the past fifteen minutes. “Oh, my apologies, Monsieur. I got carried away. It must have been dreadfully boring to hear me talk on and on.”

“Not at all. I was the one who asked, and it’s fascinating to hear such long-ago events from the perspective of a modern young lady. Have you ever considered becoming a historian or an archaeologist?”

Your good mood immediately faded upon hearing that. “No, Monsieur,” you said, sounding curter than you meant to. “I have not. Being a governess is my sole goal in life.”

Neuvillette seemed to sense your shift in mood, and the corners of his eyes lowered in regret. “My apologies. I have overstepped my bounds. But still, I do believe that the academic world is missing a brilliant mind like yours.”

You knew he was just being kind, but you still couldn’t help but feel a bit proud. And guilty. Your personal issues weren’t his problem. “Thank you, Monsieur.”

“I must admit, I had a very different impression of you from when we first met.”

“You did?” What he said baffled you. You always considered yourself to be a straightforward, “what you see is what you get” kind of person.

“Yes. I assumed you to be much more somber and cynical, but you’re nothing of that sort. You’re much livelier and passionate than you seem.”

“No, I’d say you were right the first time, Monsieur,” you said, amused. Lively and passionate were not words you had ever heard yourself associated with. “I think everyone acts different when they’re talking about the things they like, because they’re really talking about themselves. For instance, my sister loves to tease most of the time, but she gets deathly serious when it comes to shoes. I’m sure even you have moments like that, Monsieur.”

“No, I’m afraid not. My emotions are not so mutable or varied as yours.”

“Hmm…” you stared at him. It was true that his face wasn’t very expressive, but many people had said the same thing of you and assumed that you were unfeeling, which you knew wasn’t true. Perhaps it was the same for him.

The scent of coffee caught your attention as you realized that you were standing in front of the Café. “Ah, this is where I was heading, Monsieur. Would you like to, ah, join me?” you said awkwardly.

“I would be delighted to, but I am in fact invited to the opera house for a special performance, so unfortunately, I must decline.”

“A performance, huh. That sounds wonderful. Well, I mustn’t keep you then. Goodbye, Monsieur Neuvillette.”

“Goodbye, Miss [Name]. Have a lovely day.”

You watched him as he left. You had been looking forward to your reading time, but now you couldn’t help but feel a little lonely.

“Congratulations, Miss [Name], you are successfully qualified as a Court of Fontaine-licensed governess.”

The Gestionnaire’s monotone voice did little to dampen your excitement! You did it! After all your hard work and perseverance, you had finally obtained what you longed for.

“Now, you will be placed on the waiting list.”

You felt your smile drop off your face. “Waiting list?”

“There is a large volume of applicants whose applications are waiting to be processed before yours. Not to mention, there is currently a surplus of governesses in Fontaine. You need to wait for the older ones to retire before taking their spots,” the Gestionnaire dropped their voice to a whisper. “I would advise you to reconsider your career aspirations. If you want, you can also be placed on the waiting list for schoolteacher licenses.”

You frowned. School teachers were a somewhat less respectable profession for noble ladies than governess. It wasn’t as bad as laborer or factory worker, but it was still cause for other nobles to gossip about your family behind their backs.

For poor, low-ranking nobles, a spotless reputation was as valuable as gold. Any perceived blemish could attach undesirable labels that would take generations to erase. You thought of your beautiful, angelic sister, smiling so happily with that viscount’s son. That fragile relationship could be so easily snuffed out by a single bad rumor.

There were other jobs open to you, such as lady’s companion. However, you knew yourself well enough to know that you wouldn’t last very long in a role like that.

But on the other hand, you were desperate. You needed to fulfill your role for the sake of your family’s future and your own.

“Okay, put me on that list too,” you nodded tightly. “How long is it?”

“For both lists, it would take at least a year before we reach your application.”

“A year!?” you said. You hadn’t intended to sound angry, but the Gestionnaire recoiled. You forced yourself to calm down. Getting angry wouldn’t help your case.

A year was far too long. You lived in a boarding house in the centre of the city, and your savings were running out quickly. You didn’t even know if you would be able to pay next month’s rent. As a governess, you were supposed to receive a stipend for the first few months after obtaining your license as you searched for work, but those hopes were now dashed.

You thanked the Gestionnaire and left the Palais Mermonia with heavy steps, eventually ending up at the Café Lucerne. You considered going to a tavern to drown your sorrows in drink but decided against it. You were angry and frustrated, yes, but not to the point of doing something so foolish.

So, instead of a nice bottle of alcohol, you ordered five bottles of Fonta. Maybe you could drown your sorrows with their refreshing taste instead.

You slumped in your chair as you guzzled down the first bottle. You didn’t get it. You had worked so hard to fulfill the role granted to you by fate, and yet an obstacle was inexplicably placed on your path. It was such an inoffensive, unassuming role, so why...?

And what were you going to do from now on?

You could go home. Your family lived in a small town that was some distance away from the Court of Fontaine. But you would rather not. You had moved out in the first place to alleviate the financial burden on your family, and if you did move back, you would have to endure your mother’s tireless attempts to find you a husband.

You tilted your head back and stared up at the sky. It was a clear blue, not a single cloud in sight. It felt like it was mocking you.

Just then, a pale face framed with long silver hair blocked your sight. Lilac eyes looked down into your own.

Of course he would be the one to witness your current state. You wouldn’t be surprised if you went home and found him in your sitting room at this point.

“Hello, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you stood up and curtseyed half-heartedly. “As you can see, I’m no state to keep you company today. Please feel free to converse with someone else."

Neuvillette did not leave, but instead surveyed your surroundings. His brow furrowed at the bottles of Fonta.

He sat down across from you.

“My apologies for being so presumptuous, but I simply cannot stand by and watch you in such a state. Please, tell me what is distressing you.”

You stared at him. He was leaning forward, his eyes brimming with concern. Even though you barely knew him and was still considering just excusing yourself and leaving...

You sat back down and told him what just happened and your current circumstances. As you did so, you felt hot tears building up at the back of your eyes. You squeezed your eyes in a desperate attempt to stop them from coming out. You prided yourself on never crying, on taking what life threw at you without complaint. But there was also another reason, something you were surprised to admit even to yourself.

You didn’t want Neuvillette to see you cry.

It was a pathetic wish, but you wanted to show your best side to him. You wanted him to keep being impressed by you.

You didn’t know if Neuvillette picked up on your feelings. You hoped not. If he tried to comfort you, you would really lose control.

It felt colder than it did a few seconds ago. The area darkened; the shadows of clouds casted onto the ground. You could hear the people around you discussing if it was going to rain. Perfect. You would welcome rain at this point.

Neuvillette didn’t say anything for a while after you finished talking. You wondered if he understood what you told him. Surely the Iudex, the highest authority figure in the land next to the Hydro Archon, would find the concept of financial issues foreign?

You decided to grab another bottle of Fonta. But just as you reached for it, Neuvillette’s hand blocked yours and gently placed it down on the table.

Unaware of your reeling, he spoke in a quiet voice. “I can see that you’re in an extremely difficult situation, Miss [Name]. It troubles me greatly.”

You simply nodded. What else was there to say.

“I would like to propose an... unorthodox solution to your problems. One that would be beneficial for both of us.”

You looked up at him at that. You had expected him to tell you to go back home and tell your parents what happened and obey their wishes. But Neuvillette himself was offering a solution? What could it be?

Every nerve in your body was telling you that this could lead to nothing good. You usually trusted your instincts, as they were always right, but currently you were desperate enough to listen to anything.

“What do you propose, Monsieur?”

“Marry me.”

Previous | Next

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x female reader #my works #the winding path of fate

136 notes · View notes

im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 2 years

Text

Au where Danny is Damians twin. He had gone on countless solo missions since the time he was six and niether he or his brother had ever failed. This time however, was a bit different.

Dr's Jack and Madeline Fenton were playing with forces beyond thier comprehension and endangering the entire world with thier actions. They were clearly aware of it too if thier sketchy work with the government was taken into consideration. Daniel's job was to infiltrate thier lab and copy all thier data into a flash drive before killing the parents and destroying everything. Simple enough, but he made a crucial mistake.

He got curious.

Isn't that always how the eldrich and unknown gets you? You start asking questions and before anyone knows it you're a raving lunatic.

Once he had completed his first three tasks, Danny had put on one of the suspiciously numerous white and black and child sized hazmat suits and went into the beckoning maw of what was mentioned to be the portal. He looked down to step over a bundle of wires and in his momentary distraction hit a button on the wall with his hand.

The next thing he knew everything was tinged green and he was screaming.

Awaking to find his form had changed, leaving him with glowing green eyes, pale skin and white hair he was confused. Mother and Grandfather did not have a meta-gene and according to mother thier Father-the Batman- also did not have it.

Then It clicked. The scientists were studying the afterlife, more specifically the spirits of the dead and how to invade thier realm. Daniel, at the tender age of eight, had died. Whats worse is that he apparently had the ability to flop between life and death at will. Fearing what kind of experiments his Grandfather would no doubt subject him to he finished his mission by rigging the place to blow far more spectacularly then planned and fleeing into the portal.

The resulting explosion could be seen for miles. Upon seeing it from her place on a park bench with her friend, Jazz had immediately knew something terrible had happened.

Three years later Daniel- now going by Phantom- found that the portals maw had survived even if the portal itself did not and it was reactivated by a pair of nosy teens. Amity Park was being attacked by ghosts and the Justice League, a group of famous heros lead by his Father, Wonder woman and Superman, refused to even answer thier calls for help. Odd.

Phantom stepped up and began fighting them both with his powers and his training from the League of Assassins. The people hated him for being dead. The dead hated him for stopping thier rampages and his annoying ability to just disappear. (He's so glad he kept the half living thing to himself, even if it meant he often had to sneak away to living realms to get human food)

As it turns out, the Fentons had a back up location that niether he or the League of Assassins knew about where they stored notes on thier theories about the nature of ghosts and how "evil and mindless" they were. A government based group eventually formed called the Ghost Investigation Ward, or as the locals called them, The Guys In White who then passed a set of laws called the anti-ecto acts.

Daniel had grown up hearing tales of his Father. A paranoid man who thought of everything and had eyes and ears in every sector of the government. He and his League of Justice would never allow this...and yet days passed since the announcement of the acts. Then weeks. Then a month with no words speaking out againsts laws that essentially stripped the rights of an entire species. Did Father believe the lies and slander from the government and the remnants of the Fentons "research"?

If he knew about him would he think he was a monster? A threat to be eliminated?

Daniel fiddled with his domino mask as he began applying the weekly dose of phase-proof paint to the metal of the portals blast doors. He loved his mask. It made him feel just a little bit safer. Yes, he knew logically no one would ever think that a dead child would ever secretly be a living one, but facial recognition software was a very real thing and it wouldn't be long before the GIW modified it to work the blurriness out of ghost photos. Even if they didn't (which they might never considering the groups overall intelligence) people have eyes

Daniel wasn't technically living in Amity Park. At least not legally. He stole whatever he needed and stayed hidden away in abandoned houses and underground caves. Not the most luxurious life, but better than a scapel and rib shears. He shuttered at the thought.

It was almost a week after his and Damians birthday that he saw his parents again. They were fighting in the streets near Polter Heights, the rich side of the city. He wondered what they were there for. He had long taken the portal deep underground where no one could access it without intangibility and Amity really had nothing to offer otherwise. They couldn't possibly know who he was, could they?

He flew closer invisibly, listening to mother state that she planned on recruiting this "ghost child" into the League. Interesting. She didn't know it was him.

Batman. His own father argued that she knew nothing about these creatures and that they were dangerous but handled by the local authorities. Daniel couldn't fight back his sneer. The GIW did nothing while Phantom did all the work and he highly doubted any of the living considered him an "authority". Nevertheless, this proved to Daniel his fears of his Father hating him was well founded.

He did however, find himself surprised at the familiar chill of a blade at his throat. How? Then his brother, his beloved twin ordered him to surrender. Not a chance. Not even for him. Phantom fought his brother that day, no matter how much it pained him. The GIW have been chasing him relentlessly since thier founding and would do anything to get thier grubby little paws on him. If he was taken into custody by any form of law enforcement or was an immediate Game Over, even if it was the Justice League.

Daniel managed to escape but Damian left knowing he recognized that fighting style.

Damian ended up telling the rest of his family about his twin, Daniel and how he had died and how he suspected the ghost protecting Amity was his lost brother.

Unfortunately, Daniel had overheard what Batman had said to his Mother and believed his change of heart and attemps to get him to come home with him were a ruse to get him to let down his guard.

Thus begins the chaotic time in Amity Park where his Mother and Father both try to convince Phantom to live with them.

#fanfiction prompts #prompts #dp x dc #danny phantom #danny and damian twins au #batman #robin #long post #damian wayne #talia al ghul #danny fenton #sorta #daniel al ghul #danyal al ghul #dami and dani sounds cute though

1K notes · View notes