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#its almost always in the additional tags
qprstobin · 1 year
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I cry why is it so hard to find elumax centric fics feels like Soo many of the fics actually tagged with elumax are b*ler fics which is very much NOT what i want. Actually it's hard to find just plain old lumax centric fics too but at least i can manipulate the tags easier to find those
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kaeyachi · 1 year
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hsr spoilers in the tags!
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kerink · 2 years
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in light of people's confusion over cecil's longevity in @sexymanotd i wanted to document a bit of his history for those unfamiliar or nostalgic
welcome to night vale is a podcast written by joseph fink and jeffrey cranor. cecil gerschwin palmer is the main character and voiced by cecil baldwin.
it debuted on june 15, 2012 it reached its peak in popularity in 2013-2014
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despite this, wtnv has been one of tumblr's top fandoms since staff started tracking fandom-related data in 2014
for the longest time the only thing we knew about cecil's appearance was: "He is wearing a tie. He is not tall or short. Not thin or fat." and that wasn't until episode 19 which aired march 15, 2013. for almost a full year we had no idea what cecil looked like. so tumblr's collective unconscious kicked into high gear and we did what we do best
we created a tumblr sexyman
from know your meme: "Defining traits of the archetype include skinny body type, trickster or villain role and dapper clothing."
know your meme identifies wheatley (portal 2, 2011) and the onceler (the lorax, 2012) as being likely tumblr's first sexymen. and the onceler fandom was at its peak in 2012-2013, the same time as wtnv. in addition to this, the hannibal fandom has been cited as one of the contributing factors to wtnv's success on tumblr.
so tumblr had created an archetype that worked and the wtnv fandom was made up of mostly hannibal fans - the foundation for putting cecil in a suit was there. and honestly? cecil's at work in the show, why wouldn't he be well dressed?
however, while this explains his attire it doesn't explain some of cecil's more unique sexyman features, namely the tentacles. for this we have to return to the 2014 fandom review analysis where you can see the most popular fandom at the time: homestuck
haven't you ever wondered why almost a quarter (189/923 at time of writing) of E rated wtnv fics on ao3 are tagged tentacles or tentacle sex? why cecil having tentacles for a dick is such a seemingly popular headcanon? well look no further then homestuck cultural hold over.
throughout all of this, the development of the sexyman archetype on tumblr and the rise of homestuck, one creator really stands out: kinomatika
kino was one of the most popular homestuck artists on tumblr at the time, popular for their eridan fanart. if you google image search "welcome to night vale" kino's art is still one of the first results you'll get
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their design was so popular in fact it was featured in wtnv related articles from the time
and yes there were absolutely other artists giving cecil tentacles and moving tattoos at the time, but it can't be understated the reach kino had and the influence their homestuck roots had on their design choices
i recommend going through the archive of @nightvaleartclub to see how cecil used to be portrayed back in the early days. unfortunately the earliest fanart i've been able to find is july 2013 and i find it hard to believe it took tumblr a year to draw him. although, i started listening at episode 5 and didn't start drawing him until then myself so who knows...
cecil has had tumblr's heart in a vice grip since episode 1, with "20,000 posts, 183,000 blogs and 680,000 notes using the #Night Vale tag" during its first week. tumblr's love for wtnv has always been fairly genuine, from the impact the writing has had on tumblr humor and future story telling, to how wtnv paved the way for lgbt+ representation in indi media, to how it popularized podcasts as a medium for story telling, to the little comforts some of cecil's quotes still bring people today
cecil is not only a founding father of tumblr culture, but also a blorbo of the people. cecil the character in canon has a tumblr account where he posts his art and slash fanfiction.
although cecil's character has developed over time and we've come to see what a ditzy, eccentric, brat he really is, changing his status from sexyman to babygirl, cecil is absolutely a character you should embrace. and you know what... despite what i've said in the past
#cecilsweep
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[ID: Images one and two are Google analytic graphs for the search terms "welcome to night vale" and "wtnv" between June 15, 2015 and January 27, 2023. They both depict very sharp spikes around 2013-2014 until the lines decrease greatly over time.
Image three is a drawing of Cecil from Welcome To Nightvale. He is white, with white hair, glasses, a third eye on his forehead, and he is wearing a suit. In the background is the silhouette of a neighborhood from the WTNV official art, a galaxy, and a moon. It is tinted purple. Image four is the always has been meme. Instead of the earth is the tumblr logo, and the text is: “a wtnv fansite?” “Always has been”. End ID] id thanks to @princess-of-purple-prose
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kentopedia · 1 year
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dating port mafia boss dazai
contents: f!reader, implied violence, mostly dazai spoiling you so much, dazai is very soft in this, one litte nsfw scene !!
note: this reeks of self indulgence :,) my current obsession is pmboss!dazai being so sweet & gentle to his s/o
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it goes without saying that if you're in the port mafia when you start dating dazai, he’ll probably want you to take less work in the field.
bc his main goal is keeping you safe, and he constantly worries about you when you're going on dangerous missions !!
though, sometimes you miss being in all the action. so, dazai will send you on missions with chuuya or akutagawa from time to time
he still worries, but he has no doubt they can keep you safe!!
he hates being nervous about whether or not you’ll come back to him, but he never wants you to feel like you're a prisoner in your own home.
if you want to go with him, anywhere or anytime, to any meeting, you just have to ask!
bc he trusts you completely <3 and he also knows you can take care of yourself.
if you want to work in other parts of the mafia, whether that be in training, intelligence, or behind the scenes work, dazai doesn’t care
he pretends to be uncompromising on some issues, but you can convince him of anything with a pretty smile.
but, if you're not in the port mafia, he (unfortunately) will make sure you have a bodyguard with you almost everywhere.
you insist its not necessary, but he knows he's made a lot of enemies that would love to use him against you. :(
though dazai has his moments of insanity (lol), he doesn't want to drive you away from him.
if you say its too much, he'll figure out something else. another way to keep you safe.
eventually, you come live with him, so that takes care of that.
dazai spoils you senseless !!
if he's ever late for a mission, he always comes back with something for you.
sometimes its flowers, sometimes its something even more elaborate
loves loves loves giving you jewelry
but everything he buys is very thoughtful!
he doesn't buy you expensive gifts just to flaunt money
its more that there isn't a price tag on things to him. if he sees something he thinks you'll like, it'll be yours, no matter the cost <3
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"i'm home!" you said cheerfully, dropping your bag off by the door as you shouted to dazai through the penthouse.
the sound echoed back, and dazai didn't respond.
with a yawn, you headed towards your bedroom, stretching your muscles as you walked. the weather had been miserable that week, and between the heat and the rain, you were feeling more tired than ever.
what you longed for was a nice hot shower and a night in dazai's arms.
"osamu?" you said again, but the apartment remained quiet. there was no one in your bedroom when you opened the door.
you sighed, disappointed that he wasn't home to lay with you as you took a nap. though, your attention was quickly diverted by the newest addition to your bed.
a soft brown teddy bear, the same color as dazai's eyes, held a card, and a dark velvet box, paired with a bouquet of fresh flowers on your nightstand.
the note was short, but it was enough, and you couldn't help but smile as you read it.
i have to go out of the city for tonight. i'll be back in the morning. sorry i can't be with you, my darling. here's a little apology gift. i love you. - osamu
as usual, the gift was anything but small.
you flipped open the delicate box to reveal a gold necklace, a deep ruby dangling from the chain in the shape of a heart.
for a moment, you did nothing more than stare at the glittering gem that was edged by smaller diamonds, and you swelled with more love than your chest could handle.
carefully, you set the box down, wondering what you ever did to deserve something so beautiful. as much as you wanted to wear it immediately, you'd wait until osamu was back so he could help you put it on.
instead, you placed the card and the necklace by the flowers, and climbed into bed with the stuffed animal. as you nestled deeper into the comforter, curling your arms around the bear, you realized dazai had sprayed it with his cologne before he left.
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dazai isn't the best about telling you how he feels. he is so much better at showing it.
if it isn't obvious, he loves buying you gifts! he has so much money as the port mafia boss, and he has no idea what to do with it. why not spend it on you!!
if you see an outfit in the store window that you like, dazai will have it tailored to your precise measurements. (which he has memorized, of course).
he loves shopping for you.
when he buys you pretty dresses, lingerie, and so on, all the other women in the store are swooning over him.
he knows exactly what you like and don't.
even if he thinks you'd look so beautiful in something, he knows your sense of style.
dazai doesn't want you to ever feel obligated to wear something just bc he picked it out for you.
of course, dazai always gives you his card to go shopping
and to get your nails done! he's obsessed with how pretty your hands look after getting a fresh set <3
he's loves them whatever color/design you think looks best. but i'd be lying if i said he wasn't obsessed with red nails.
dazai really loves the way they looked wrapped around his-
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you rested your head on dazai's shoulder, letting your hands gently splay across his knee, your fingertips moving in a listless, delicate pattern.
though a film played before you, it was forgotten quickly, dazai's breath catching as he exhaled a laugh. "what are you doing?" he asked, and you smiled innocently, drifting your hand further up his thigh.
"nothing."
he blinked at you with wide brown eyes and swallowed, his throat bobbing as you reached his hip. you wrapped a delicate finger around his zipper, pulling it down slowly.
"nothing, hm?" he countered.
you turned to face him, sweeter now, as you tugged at his waistband. though dazai feigned disinterest for a moment, you felt him twitch beneath the thin layer of clothing.
his focus drifted down to your much softer hand, perfectly manicured and smaller than his own. he seemed fascinated, for a moment, by the way your fingers were moving. "your nails look pretty, love."
"i know.” you grinned. dazai's hips shifted, and you lowered his waistband, pressing a line of kisses up his neck slowly, teasing him.
you freed his cock, aching and hard, from his pants, and wrapped your hand around him. dazai let out a small gasp, though he watched as you lazily stroked him, the action perfected from experience.
"you're so pretty, 'samu." you watched his face turn red as he tried hard not to fall apart under your touch.
it was reassuring, really, to know that the most powerful man in the city was wrapped around your finger.
"not as pretty as you, baby," he said, but the word came out strained, raspy as you tightened your fist, running your teeth across the taut vein in his neck.
you laughed and moved onto his lap, kicking the remote off the couch before straddling him. his eyes melted into hearts as he stared up at you, begging for a kiss.
"you’ve been so busy this week,” you frowned. “i wanna make you feel good."
dazai jerked into you, breathing stifled as you brush your thumb over the tip. "you always do." his smile was affectionate, but his touch was desperate, digging into your sides. he was already searching for some sort of release.
"so impatient," you said, but you indulged him with a kiss anyway, his hands fisting in your hair as your tongue met his.
he breathed into you mouth, hot and heavy. "fuck," dazai hissed, lifting your hips to slip off your pajama shorts. "it's hard not to be when you're so fucking perfect, sweetheart. i need to be inside you."
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dazai loves loves loves taking you out to expensive restaurants <3
he's not a big fan of crowds, though, so he'll rent out the entire place instead, just to get a private room for the two of you.
and if you don't feel like going out, but you want a nice meal, he'll hire a chef for the evening. one that specializes in whatever type of food you want
dazai's not the best cook, but he’ll do often, just because it makes you happy
he gets so much better over time, though.
whatever you want, he'll make it for you! and if he can't, he'll definitely find someone who can.
but! back to dazai letting you use his account to buy anything.
when you go to any shop associated with the mafia, everything is on the house
bc if the boss is going to funnel money into their pockets, the least they could do is give his girl some gifts !!
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"is this... going to be all for you today, miss?" the cashier said, looking at the stack of clothing skeptically. he rang up price tag after price tag, watching as the numbers grew exponentially on the screen.
you nodded, smiling politely as he read off the total, a number that no average person would be able to spend reasonably in one go.
but dazai said you could get whatever you wanted for your birthday, and you hadn't let yourself indulge in a shopping spree for a while. so you'd picked up anything that suited you nicely and decided not to worry.
"how will you be paying today?"
you handed over the card, and the cashier read the name, glancing up at you with skeptical eyes.
"dazai osamu?"
you smiled sweetly. "it's my boyfriend's card."
though, the name had caught the attention of an older salesman across the room, and he was to the cashier in two swift steps, knocking him on the back of the head.
"dumbass," the older man swiped the card from the cashier before he could swipe the payment. "don't you know who she is?"
it took the man three more times of reading dazai's name across the plastic for it to click.
"i'm so sorry," he said, wide eyes suddenly anxious. "i had no idea you were—"
"it's okay. don't worry." you smiled, shrugging. "i won't tell him."
you meant it as a joke, but that only seemed to make the younger cashier more nervous.
"we'll take care of everything for you." the elderly salesman said, holding out the card to return it. "it's on us."
"really?" you pinched your eyebrows together, concerned. the bill was steep. it seemed unfair to let them take such a hit to profits. "at least let me pay for some of it.”
"no, don't worry about it. the boss said it was your birthday, so whatever you want, its yours."
for a moment, you weren't sure what to say. though, realizing that this store was just one of the many in yokohama that partnerned with dazai, you finally succumbed to a smile, and accepted their kindness.
you took dazai's card back and slipped it into your purse. "thank you so much.” you said sincerely, turning to leave with a small wave as you gathered up the bags and bags of clothes. "it was nice to meet you. i'll come back soon!"
though they said nothing, they both stared back at you with wide eyes, as most people did when they found out you were the one that had captured dazai's heart.
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when dazai finds out how much you love to read, he clears out an entire floor of the port mafia headquarters to make you a library
its done far too elaborately, with classical decorations, a very intricate chandelier, and a view that looks over the entire city
there are special editions, original copies of your favorite books, books in languages you can't even read and so on
he went a little overboard, but he was just so excited to show you :(
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"osamu." you stare, blinking at the vast room, not really sure what to say other than his name.
"what?" he's pouting instantly, wondering if he made a mistake, and you didn't like to read as much as he thought. "do you not like it?"
you don't think your heart has ever felt so full before, and you manage a shaky smile, wondering how it didn't split your face in two. "this is too much. you did all this for me?"
and he seems surprised you would even ask such a silly question, because why wouldn't he give you something you've always wanted? "if it makes you feel better, i'll tell you i did it for myself."
you laugh, and then you're launching yourself at him, throwing your arms around his neck in a warm embrace. you nearly cry, because even though he spoils you far too much, this is the most thoughtful gift you've ever received.
"thank you." you whisper, kissing him all over his face, and he smiles, his cheeks warm from your affection.
dazai leads you to a shelf after that, pointing out a few novels that have his name scribbled in the front cover, all with varying states of penmanship.
he's collected all his favorite books there for you, hopeful you'll read them first.
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dazai places you next to him in every mafia meeting
if you're going to be his partner, you're also going to be his equal <3
and he knows that you can keep everyone in the mafia in line. he trusts you to be in charge when he's not there
bc everyone in the mafia likes you more than dazai anyway! (except maybe akutagawa)
and yes, dazai is the sweetest to you <3 but certainly not to everyone else
he disposes of people that bother you... far too quickly
the man at the store made you uncomfortable? he doesn't live in the city anymore. someone was too handsy? they'll lose a few fingers.
but if someone in the mafia says even one unkind word to you, you'll never see them again.
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"sweetheart, what's wrong?"
you sniffed, wiping the tears from your eyes as his hands snuck around your waist. he pulled you closer towards him, sliding next to you on the bed.
"it's nothing." you swallowed, but your eyes were still glassy no matter how hard you tried to stop crying. "i shouldn't get so worked up about things people say."
"hey," he coaxed your hands away from your face, tilting your chin up. "if it's upsetting you, it's a big deal to me, my love."
you said nothing for a moment, but dazai remained patient, smiling softly at you as he stroked your cheek.
never able to resist the gentleness that he showered only you in, you sighed. "some people just said…” you trailed off, almost not wanting to tell him. it seemed embarrassing, in some way, to say something lewd about yourself, even if you were merely repeating the words.
“said what?”
you chewed the inside of your lip before sighing, knowing dazai wouldn’t let the issue rest until you told him.
“they just said that you only kept me around to fuck me.” you dropped your gaze to your hands for a moment, letting them rest limply in your lap. “that i was just some stupid bitch you’d leave behind soon.”
you watched the smile slowly fall from his lips, his eyes hardening with a fury that wasn't directed at you.
"you know that's not true." he held your hands tightly, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. "tell me that you know that."
you managed something of a smile. "i know. i really do know how much you love me. doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt my feelings.”
he nodded, somewhat satisfied as the cloudiness began to clear from your face. "who was it? if you don't know they're name, just describe them." his expression was icy, dangerous, even if his hands were soft.
"osamu, i told you it doesn't matter—" you frowned, looking away before he interrupted.
“it does fucking matter." his words came out sharp. "those men work for me, and i'm not going to let them treat you like that. they've got no business being here if they can't respect you."
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at the end of the day, dazai's reputation remains very much intact. he will always be feared in the city, despite exposing himself as a man who's so so in love
but everyone in the mafia is secretly pleased to see him a little happier, even if its just around you.
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fev3rish · 3 months
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hellaur wife kenji sato fic and acc recs PLEASE MWAH MWAH MWAH 🤗🤗🤗
VIC’S FAVS ! kenji sato x reader
hiiii wifey<3 i know exactly who sent this. she’s a newer addition to the fandom and it is my duty to help her adjust 😇 this is a complete YAPATHON. by the way. i LOVE using any given oppurtunity i have to compliment writers because it’s like a win win situation to me. i get noticed by a cool writer and the writer knows someone enjoys their work like what thats so coolio
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overall recommendations . . .
@luneariaa -> stepping into her account is like stepping into another dimension. i remember skimming through the kenji sato x reader tag while i was first settling into the fandom—before i was a writer myself—and they were one of the first writers i saw. their whole aesthetic and the way they format their writing, the way they write in general, is so beautiful and she’s such an underrated writer in the community! im also obsessed with their account theme it’s like a living visual stimboard on my phone. how do u do those silly little gif videos bby. im like one of ur biggest fans please notice me oh mg god pls PLEASE NOTICE ME PLEASE HAVE DINNER EITH ME PLEASE PLEASE (does a handstand) PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE
@yzzart -> my inspiration hello 🙏 she’s the reason i actually started writing for ultraman! her kenji boyfriend headcanons were the first things that caught my attention, and it sparked a bunch of will to write in me. she lowkey got me out of a writing block that lasted almost one year and im forever thankful for her beautiful existence 💗 her usage of vocabulary is IMPRESSIVE. i don’t usually have to google the meanings of words but the first time i ever did was when i read her writing and i mean that in the most positive way possible. it is ALWAYS a green flag when a writer uses big words and uses them right. her writing prowess is EVIDENT. and she deserves every nice word people say about her she is such a GORGEOUS girl
@reyalvr -> my friend who doesnt know shes my friend btw. we both went through the avatar -> ultraman pipeline and i think its so funny ?? i distinctly remember reading her ao’nung fics and eating them up ALL the time. when i discovered her again, i was like “oh! that username seems familiar?” and it’s kind of peculiar because while i do remember reading her writing back when i was still @/victoirey, and enjoying it because she devoured everytime, i don’t know if she’s had the same username for like forever? i digress! whatever it is, her writing always has me hooked. like i physically CANNOT stop reading. it put me in this trance like state and im like so “woah!” when i experience it because usually i can’t sit still. she deserves all the hype shes gotten; her writing is the closest thing to perfect, everything about it is entrancing. from the storyline to the dialogue, it all just falls into place. the only thing that isn’t perfect, is the fact that it ends. like why cant u just like write forever boo… come on😡💗
@mitskicain -> i have her most recent works in my read later list. her previous twoshot lowkey had me all giggly! i kicked my feet while reading and i accidentally stubbed my toe onto the nearby table but the story was so great it quelled my pain immediately. she’s such a good writer and i LOVE her characterization of kenji like it genuinely makes me blush so hard. also her username? is that a reference to ethel cain in it? …if u see this, i love ethel cain. my fav song is unpunishable. ure so cool. also her blog is like so … how do i say, like organized? like she has a way of making everything fit and fall into place . literally even if its a MEME. she’ll make it fall into place because thats judt how skilled she is. also batter up is such a clever name idk why im so impressed whenever i see it on ur blog im like “woh. batter up….. name nice. i love the name kween” but overall shes SO FUCKING GOOOOOOD AUFH
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my fav fics . . .
ultraman, ultrafine, ultramine ; “kenji sato, the man that you are.” / WORD? i fucking love this twoshot its so GOD ugh i gush everytime i read it user mitskicain you are so GOOD
cutely written by @mitskicain
when i was led to you … ; “kenji could get used to his routine, but, only with you by his side.” / grrrrrr grrrrr i 😡😡😡 punchign wall!!1! so good. always so good ysa
gorgeously written by @yzzart
she’s mine ; “catch me, i’ve fallen in love for the first time.” / me after entering the kenji sato characterization competition, seeing user reyalvr and user mitskicain: 🚪🚶‍♀️ so FUCKING YUMMY
extraordinarily written by @reyalvr
piece of art ; aka kenji and u go to the museum / my honest reaction:
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flawlessly written by @luneariaa
mommys here ; reader takes the role of pretty baby emi’s mother🥺 / i haven’t read this in full yet, but from the first few paragraphs i already know its a good story!! I am literally so attracted to this authors writing style for some reason like wow…. beautifully written by @kiwiikato
kenji & baseball!critic reader ; okay so its not really a fic think of it as me recommending you a trailer for a movie im really excited to see because i LURK. and I LURK ON THIS BABES ACCOUNT AND IM READIN WHEN U LEAST EXPECT IT 👀 writing style is flawless, by the way, baby. you’re such a starling .
wonderfully written by @rieamena
labor of love ; I FUCKING LOVE KENJI SATO AUTHORS😭😭/ read this today and i went 🙏 . my hands clasped together in prayer. literally thank you god. i love this so much. spectacularly written by @jinwoosungs
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that’s it from me my loves, if you actually did read this—thank you? that’s sweet? gimme a big ol kiss? and i hope you know that whether or not you’re on this list literally all you need to do if you want to get your works out there is send me an ASK and i will literally edit this post and add my fav work from you i will literally do it. to the authors i included and to the others i didn’t, your efforts are seen and appreciated. i know it is hard to write stories and it is so impressive that you’ve written in the first place. you are all so talented, and i just wanted to remind you of that fact<3
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💋 kisses, v <3
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adelheidvonschicksal · 7 months
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ᴄʜᴇʀʀʏ
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Summary: You make for a good distraction when things get tough. Sukuna's fingers may be bitter, but your kisses are sweet.
Pairing: Itadori x GN!Reader
Tags: fluff, light angst, hurt and comfort, developing relationships, sfw
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The fingers of Sukuna are an ugly sight; burnt burgundy and twistedly decrepit, crowned with a pointed black nail that scratches at Itadori’s throat whenever he swallows one. The taste is even worse, akin to someone soaking an old cigar in cloudy mop water before clumsily preserving it in candle wax.
It takes all his strength to not pucker his face and dig his nails into the column of his neck whenever the soapy wax flavor hits his tongue. Every fiber of his body would react to reject the intrusion. The lingering aftertaste was another issue. He couldn’t erase it by scraping his tongue against his teeth; burying it with sweet or spicy foods after a mission only helped so much, leaving him to wait until it disappeared on its own as the hours past. He thought it would get easier every time; and for a while, it did.
Until it didn't.
He wanted to stop. But he couldn't stop, not after all this, not until he eats them all, not until he makes everyone's suffering mean something.
So, when he’s about to eat another finger after a grueling, emotionally draining late-evening mission, he braces himself.
As always, the flavor is waxxy, almost non-existent, then putrid when he accidentally bites down. His body knee jerks to react, gag reflex hiccuping and stomach bile rising to reject it, to tell him to spit it out. He closes his eyes tight and squeezes at his throat to loosen the straining muscles, begging his body to hurry up and accept it so it would end faster. Sukuna and everything that comes with eating these cursed objects. It doesn’t want to give in this time, and he squats as if it could help and also because he's so tired of this.
Suddenly, there’s a subtle sweetness, like fruit on the tongue, cutting through the taint. It’s an easy succor to chase and mold to while a comforting force travels up his neck and over his hands, gently forcing them to drop so it can replace them. This touch eventually settles under his bottom eyelids, smooth crescents drawing right along his cheekbones.
This taste is not exactly as strong as the sugar and spice that he normally uses to cover up the filthy flavor in his mouth but there’s something relaxing about the warmth that accompanies it and settles against his lips. Prayers answered, his clenching throat relaxes, allowing him to swallow, and his body quickly adapts to the new addition. 
When the sensation stops, Itadori can finally open his eyes.
It’s you.
You’re here, kneeling in front of him and glowing against the dark backdrop of the night that you’re a little blinding to his lagging mind. 
How could he forget that you came here with him?
There’s a soft silence flowing between you, and he only now notices that you’re holding his face. However, he doesn’t feel the need to make you let go as heat creeps up his skin and his heart begins to echo in his chest, temporarily numbing his mind from the sour aftereffects of eating Sukuna’s fingers.
“Better?” you ask with a small tilt of your head.
Itadori is caught off-guard by the question, feeling a bit dazed and more than a little confused.
“It’s…better,” he eventually mumbles so quietly that his voice gets buried under the breeze. “Thanks.”
His eyes drift lower on your face, finding your lips. He fights the blush threatening to overtake him as he takes in the reddish shine on your lips and pieces together what happened.
“Strawberry?” he hoarsely asks, half-jokingly and half because he feels as if he needs to say something, or else it would be awkward, wouldn’t it?
“Cherry, actually,” you correct with a tiny smile.
“Oh,” he exclaims, his cheeks still a pretty pink as he wonders if the kiss was something you wanted to do. He wonders why it made him feel so much better. He wonders if that would be something you do next time or if this was simply a one-off action thought of in the heat of the moment. He also wonders, for a moment, if he deserved it.
“Could you…” he begins then hesitates.
Is he even allowed to ask such a thing?
“Do that again?” He requests and shamefully palms at his chest for daring to ask for something so personal. “It’s uhm, the aftertaste.”
It’s partially the truth and partially because he wants to figure out why.
Nodding, you give in more readily than he expects and lean in to kiss him again. This time he dares to press the tip of his tongue against your lips, too nervous and confused to breach between them.
You’re right. It’s sweet, slightly tart, blatantly artificial, but so much better than anything else he can imagine right now. Yet he doesn't think it's the gloss causing his body to ease, if only a little.
When you pull away, he finds his mind finally catching up and blushes at the fact your lips are still so close to his. Exhaling slowly, he tries to ignore the dull ache still bubbling in his chest in exchange for thinking about the taste you left behind, the one that makes soft emotions emerge from his heart like a butterfly from its cocoon when he looks at you.
“Yeah…" he reinforces dreamily, letting the wind once again carry away his words, "It’s cherry.”
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xiaosonlybeloved · 11 months
Text
First Words~ Gojo Satoru
featuring:- Gojo Satoru, fem!reader, Megumi, Tsumiki, [d/n] is your daughter's name tags:- fluff, reader has a child with Gojo, Megumi and Tsumiki are still kids and live with them, reader is called mama a/n:- oh my god people writing this killed me how do yall write fluff T.T the next fic i write is gonna be hardcore angst as compensation dudhsufi, also my first time writing fluff and jjk hope u like it :)
wc:- 1.1k
masterlists
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“Excuse me, sorry to bother you, but have you seen a white-haired man with a small kid anywhere?” You frantically asked the nearest shop employee. You had turned your back on your husband for just a few minutes, which had apparently been enough for him to disappear somewhere into the large supermarket, with your child. Thank the gods atleast Megumi and Tsumiki had the good sense to not follow him. Unfortunately, neither of them had caught Satoru disappearing. 
You tightly held Megumi’s hand to ensure that you two wouldn’t be separated, keeping your eyes peeled for the albino male. Tsumiki, being a little older than him, had decided to independently search for Satoru, both of you agreeing to return to the billing counter once you’d found him. “I swear, when I find him, he’s gonna have it from me.” You muttered under your breath as you hurried with Megumi through the endless rows in the supermarket. 
And voila, where do you finally find him? In one of the multiple rows of the sweets and deserts section, one hand carefully balancing your child and keeping her from grabbing at the chocolates, while he stocked the cart with packets of chocolates, in addition to the pile of donut packets and sweets and what not. You narrow your eyes as you leave Megumi’s hand and angrily stomp towards him, causing him to freeze as if he’s been caught red-handed -which he had been. He hadn’t even finished the humongous stock at home, and he was buying more! At this rate, he deserved to develop diabetes with his crazy sweet tooth.
Satoru nervously grins at you as you narrow your eyes at him. “Oh, darling, there you are-” “Cut the crap, Gojo Satoru. You had me searching for over 15 minutes, do you know that? You weren’t even answering your phone, the sheer audacity. We are outside right now, so I won’t make a scene, but you damn better be prepared when we get home.” You shift your attention from your husband to your daughter, whose eyes had lit up on seeing you and was grabbing at you with her chubby fingers, almost falling out of Satoru’s arms. You let out a sigh of relief as you take her into your arms, giving her a kiss on her forehead, which made her giggle and laugh as she started babbling, attempting to say ‘Mama’. It was always so adorable to see her say gibberish- she was starting to speak these days, much to your and Satoru’s elation. From beside you, Megumi gently held her hand, and she closed her fist tightly around his finger. You gently bend down a bit so that Megumi can squish [d/n]’s cheeks and she can grab his spiky hair with her other hand as both you and Satoru chuckled. 
“Gu.. Gu..Mi… Gumi!” Your daughter suddenly exclaims after many attempts, using the nickname you two had given Megumi. All three of you freeze, amidst [d/n]’s babbling of “Gumi! Gumi!” Satoru is the first one to break out laughing as he throws an arm around Megumi, saying with a grin, “Well, would ya look at that? Her first word isn’t Mama or Papa, its you! Man, I’m a bit jealous, but oh well.” Megumi looks stunned as she sticks out her tongue at him, something she recently learned from Satoru. But slowly, a soft smile spreads across his face as he hesitantly reaches his arms out, asking you if he could hold her. You readily give him his little sister as she starts laughing once again, grabbing two fistfuls of his hair. He doesn’t seem affected as he gently plays with her a bit.
Just then, Tsumiki comes running in. “I see you found him!” She exclaims between pants. “What did I miss?” Satoru happily tells her what happened as [d/n] again shifts her attention from Megumi to you, reaching out for you again. He quickly hands her over to you, satisfied, and she snuggles into your shoulder, mumbling her second word- Mama, as you grin and play with her hair affectionately. Satoru excitedly hurries behind you to see his adorable little daughter’s face, but all she does is frown at him for ‘disturbing her time with her mom’. She turns her face away, burying it into your neck, when Satoru tries to get a reaction out of her by poking and pinching her cheeks. “Cmon, sweets, just say my name once? Just once?” He tried to prod at her, and she glared at him, or well… tried to- she just looked adorable as ever with a baby scowl. Tsumiki giggled at his relentless attempts, finally pulling him away from his daughter with a scolding of “Stop annoying her!” Then she walks up to you for her turn of holding [d/n], welcomingly holding her arms out for her. [d/n] stares at her for a bit, before agreeing, as if deciding that she wasnt likely to annoy her. All four of you ignore Satoru’s gasp of utter betrayal. 
“My own family doesn’t stand by me anymore.” He wept dramatically in the middle of the supermarket as the four of you grin and play with [d/n], who finally says her third word- ‘Miki’. (Store employees and other people give you weird looks but ignore you.) You’re surprised at how quickly she’s learning- probably something she inherited from her dad. Ironically, her dad’s name is the only name she hasn’t spoken yet. 
She quietens down after a while, causing the three of you to look at her in puzzlement. “I guess she’s tired by now.” You hummed as she started reaching out of Tsumiki’s arms again, but towards her dad. He immediately grabs the opportunity, quickly taking [d/n] into his arms. She rests her head on his shoulder, as if she was about to fall asleep, and you all look at your little bundle of joy with a soft smile.
Just before she starts snoring, she mumbles another word, the last one before she falls asleep- ‘Papa’. A warm grin spreads across your husband’s face, as he first looks at his daughter, then at his family- all of whom are smiling happily at him too. 
Luckily for him, the scolding you were supposed to give him at home slipped your mind amongst all the excitement in the supermarket. After all, you do love him and the rest of your family with all your heart, so you suppose you can forgive his childish antics this once. (And many more times in the future too.)
requests are open, and darn it i have no idea how to write fluff aaa. reblogs, tags and comments are very much appreciated , thanks for reading :)
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Text
Addition Rambling #18.5- Mandatory kisses now with KISSMARKS
Continuation of this Rambling: Yuu's kiss Language
Since kissing is a huge part of the Language in Yuu's world, I think its common for their people to take care of their lips.
So imagine, Yuu usually wears a lipbalm to keep their lips soft, however they ran out of their colorless lipbalm, which made them opt to buy from the store with their meager allowance crowley provided.
Unfortunately, what they bought in bulk is tinted lipbalm, so now everytime they kiss someone to greet them or express their emotions, it leaves a mark.
Imagine Ace and Deuce, running late to class with Yuu and entering the classroom almost a minute late. Everyone is staring at them but the Adeuce duo don't notice as they're too busy looking for their homework. It isn't until Trein pointed out the kiss marks that they find out.
It happens to others too! Whether its cuz the Prefect was angry, or they wanted to thank or congratulate someone, they always leave a kiss mark!
To find other related post in my blog, the tag is #TwstKissAU
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zhongrin · 2 years
Text
behind the screen
◇ characters ◇ zhongli
◇ tags ◇ yandere, sagau
◇ a/n ◇ ok ok ok story time liSTEN-
i was showing a friend genshin for the first time few weekends ago, and ofc i had zhongli out (she wasn't interested in him tho, sad) to walk around and basically show her around the world. and then we stopped a bit while i explained the whole thing about the usual party composition & the concept of gacha, and ofc zhongli starts talking about osmanthus wine-
so i rolled my eyes (cause i was in the middle of an explanation) and said "zhongli shush" and you know what happened? he. fucking. stopped. talking. the idle animation canceled. i almost pissed myself until i remembered the controller was in my friend's hand and she had moved the joystick. THAT ALMOST SCARED ME TO DEATH SLFJSLJFLS LMAO
so yeah have a drabble 'inspired' by that. toodles~
𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡
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he knows you love his voice.
it's something you always tell him, both directly and indirectly. you would drop in his voiceover menu every now and then, purposefully put him on idle so you can listen to his musings, and whenever he appears on scenes you would visibly deflate if the dialogues involving him are muted from your side. at such times, he takes one step closer to the idea of breaking this world's laws entirely, because if you wish to hear him then you should be able to - you should always get whatever you want, the deity that you are in his eyes.
like now, when you're gushing about him to what seems to be your friend. he's never heard of her before, but you seem close, and he feels the familiar twitch of his fingers, itching to reach out to you, to pull you close and smother you with his presence instead.
from the way you had to explain the basics of his world, he assumes your friend is a complete beginner entirely. but surprisingly she doesn't seem to be too impressed with him, despite the excitement that's filling your voice, and he can sense how agitated it made you. true enough, when he stealthily sneaks a glance, you're pouting a little before you launch into an explanation of how necessary of an addition he is to the team, and the workings behind the gacha system.
adorable.
... but your attention is slipping away from him. now that- he can't have that. he sighs and triggers the idle function with your favorite audio file that he frequently abuses, feeling his body and lips move as per the scripted codes.
"osmanthus wine-"
"zhongli, shush!"
...... what?
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it was a reflex. a force of habit, you could say. no one likes to be talked over by someone else when they're talking, right?
"sorry, he's a little-"
you stop talking because suddenly, it's silent. the hair on the back of your neck rises.
"did you move the joystick?" you ask your friend, eyeing the now-still 3d model of your favorite character on the big tv screen.
"huh? no?" she answered, waving the gadget by its handle with one hand, "uh- didn't you say it has drifting problems? maybe it's that?"
".... yeah........ yeah, that's got to be it. anyway, as i was saying-"
zhongli is needlessly quiet for the rest of your little showcase. you continue to talk with your friend happily, the little event pushed to the back of your mind as you enjoy spending time with one of your favorite people, throwing jokes, laughs, and eventually turning off genshin to move on to celebrity crushes and a cute looking singer that's going to have his little concert in the city soon.
zhongli lets you.
for it would be the last time you could enjoy the such activity before he forcefully pulls you into their side.
to his side, where you rightfully belong to.
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© zhongrin | 2022 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!
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◇ taglist ◇ @paintingsofdragonspine | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-lovee | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @niverine | @silentmoths
ps. if you want to be removed/added from the taglist, just send an ask!
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semiweirdshipper · 6 months
Text
Slashers as fathers with a (teenage) reader.
Notes: 100% NON-ROMANTIC. Platonic love only. Non-binary reader. The reader is a young teenager (you decide the age). Freddy is alive and NOT a pedophile.
Summary: The slasher fathers feeling guilty after hurting their child's feelings. PART TWO. Hurt/comfort addition.
Folks who wanted to be tagged. @hope4rain19, @minaxcarter, @brooke-stinson, @urminebutidontwantyou, @gaipplrhot, @gyarukitti, @raphydude, @thelxapeia, @ant1d3pre55ant5add1ct, @decentsoupperson, @kawaistrawberry21.
Freddy Krueger
Freddy sighed as he stomped to your room in search of his laptop. You had been in such a rush this morning to get to school that you had accidentally left it in there. And while he always respected your wishes for him to never enter your room, he really needed his laptop. Sacrifices need be made some times.
However, as Freddy wandered into your room, he was met with a sight that literally stole his breath. Your bed was completely littered with folders and painted canvas boards. There was a large portfolio bag laying on the ground with its contents scattered everywhere. Painting and drawing utensils alike sat scattered over a table with a still wet painting taped atop.
Eyes ridiculously wide, Freddy looked around and deeply observed the area. He didn't know you owned any of this stuff. Paintings, oil canvases, drawings and sketches, and all of them were yours. And each piece looked really, really good. Freddy couldn't believe what was happening right now.
He thought you gave up on art.
Delicately picking up multiple art pieces, a happiness and sense of pride rushed through Freddy's heart, and he found himself grinning big in a mixture of relief and utter joy. You still loved art, and you were so good at it. He hadn't destroyed your passion after all. That being said though... Why would you hide this from him?
Later that day when you came home, Freddy asked you to go to the kitchen. When you went inside, you froze right on the spot. There, scattered all across the kitchen table, were multiple art projects of yours.
"Dad..." You choked, your heart racing in fear, your words stolen from you, "I..."
"I needed my laptop and uh... Accidentally found these," Freddy explained, a happy smile covering his face as he went to grab your shoulders, "Sweetie, why would you hide this from-"
"I told you not to go in there." You almost shouted, tears blurring your eyes as you pulled away from him.
"Sweetie," Freddy took a step back, hurt by your defensive attitude.
You went to the table and quickly began to gather up your art work. Freddy chased after you to try and get you to stop, "No, stop it. Don't do that- just-just wait a sec, I-"
"I get it, dad, you hate it. You've always hated my art. You-just... J-just leave me alone. Don't touch it, ok," You avoided eye contact while scurrying to protect your work, "I'll put it away."
"No, that's not what I want. (y/n). (y/n), will you please look at me. Hey," Freddy placed a hand on your shoulder and kept you from stomping off, "(y/n), look at me."
With a tense body and watery eyes, you looked at him, art work clutched to your chest and a glare covering your face.
Freddy sighed and said in earnest, "That's not what I want. Your art, I love it. I think it's beautiful an-and amazing! I-I mean, all this time? Really? I thought you gave up on it, I... I thought that I..."
Relaxing, you lowered your arms and looked him straight in the eyes. It felt like your heart had just done a summersault in your chest. "You... You mean it? You... You really like my art?"
"I love it!" Freddy exclaimed almost too quickly, "I love it so much, you have no idea. You have no idea how happy this makes me, (y/n). I thought that I ruined art for you. I... I never stopped feeling guilty about what I did. And I always hoped that one day you would start again, but..."
"Dad," You bit your lip hard in an attempt not to cry. He cared. He actually cared, and he loved your art. He was happy for you.
"Here," Freddy went to grab an old folder off the table.
Suspicious, you set down your art and went to take the folder. When you opened it, you saw dozens of old, un-crumpled papers with very distinct, familiar drawings on them. It took a minute, but you soon realized that these were the very drawings you had thrown away when you were little.
"You... Kept them?" You gaped at your dad, your heart aching in a happy/sad way.
"Of course I did," Freddy's smile wobbled a bit, "I love you and I love everything you do, and I'm so, so sorry for making you feel bad, f-for making you feel like you had to hide this from me."
Lowering the folder, you felt your lips wobble as your heart clenched in great happiness and relief. All this time you believed your dad hated your passion. He had hurt you so badly, but he regretted it. He had always regretted it, and he loved your work.
In a desperate attempt to hide your tears, you rush up to your dad and give him a big hug. Freddy held you as tightly as he could, his arms fierce and protective as he said, "Don't ever give up on your art, (y/n). No matter what, please. I love you so much."
Michael Myers
Michael had wandered out of the garage a few minutes after your friend's dad dropped you off. "Me and (friend's name) are gonna grab a snack real quick, k dad?" You had hollered while rushing into the house.
Rolling his eyes a bit, Michael approached the other man who casually got out of the car. He was grinning big at you and his own kid, seemingly proud and full of joy. "My god, man," He said mindlessly, smiling at Michael, "I tell ya, that was one hell of a game today. Whoo, and (y/n)? My god, they were great."
Puzzled and confused, Michael could only tilt his head in wonder. Game? What game?
The man shook his head and gave Michael an even more puzzled look than he himself sported, "Hey, how come I never see you at any of their games? Rough job or something?"
Michael's silence and confused expression urged the man to explain more.
"You know, the (sport) game? Just had one today- what a show I tell ya. But, I just- I never see you there, you know?"
At that, Michael's eyes went unspeakably wide. (sport)? You were playing (sport)? What? For how long? Why didn't he know about this? He thought you quit playing that when you were little. What was going on?
A week later and Michael was sitting amongst the crowd that was watching your (sport) game. You didn't know he was there. You didn't even know that he knew all your secrets like the fact that you had been playing (sport) for years, how you had won two trophies, the fact that this is where you spent most of your time at, and so on and so forth.
While watching the game, Michael couldn't help but to feel a deep sense of pride, relief and great joy at seeing how passionately you played and how much fun you were having. And you were so talented at it. The other team didn't stand a chance. You had grown so much since you were little. To this day his own actions still haunted him.
He hurt you. He 'scarred' you. And, although you continued doing what you loved, you had still felt the need to hide it from him, for years. He did that. He had made you feel so anxious and insecure that you felt the need to hide your greatest passion from him.
What kind of father does that to their child?
Unsurprisingly, your team won the game, and Michael couldn't be more proud or excited. Once the crowd and commotion calmed down, he patiently waited on you to exit the changing rooms. The way you hid yourself...
Michael gazed around at all the happy families congratulating and/or comforting their kids. It crushed his heart thinking about the sheer loneliness you expressed after the game ended and you had no one to celebrate with aside from your team mates.
When you came out of the changing room, Michael straightened his posture and faced you. It took you a minute, but eventually you looked up, saw him, and froze. A gasp escaped your mouth while your backpack fell from your shoulder to your shaken hand.
Michael's chest ached at the sight of your frightened, horrified face as you frantically looked around as if for an escape. Quickly he approached you and said in sign language, "That was a good game."
"Dad," You stepped away from him, panicked, "I-it's not what you think-I... I-I was just-I'm..."
You were scared, Michael realized, guilt beating on him like a hundred hammers. He waved his hand at you to get your attention, "Why didn't you tell me you were playing (sport)?"
"I..." You stare at him in great panic that melted into sadness and fear. You dropped your backpack and covered your face, saying brokenly, "I'm sorry, dad. I... I didn't mean to. Don't be mad, please, I-I... I'll stop playing it."
What? Micheal rushed to you and went to gently pull your hands away from your flushed face. What had he done? "No, I'm not mad. Please stop panicking. I'm not mad. Not at all."
Confused, you look at him through tear colored vision.
"I just found out you were playing (sport). You even have trophies. (y/n), why did you keep this from me?"
"Because," You winced, "You said I wasn't good at it. You... You hate me for it. I... I just wanted to be happy. I... I didn't mean to..."
He couldn't believe how upset you were, and all because he found out that you were doing what you loved. Marching up to you, Michael pulled you into a big hug that lasted for several minutes. When he noticed you calm down, he moved back a bit and explained.
"I was an idiot back then. I never should have said those things to you, (y/n). I've always felt bad for how I made you feel. You're not bad at (sport) and I never wanted you to stop playing. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I made you feel this way."
You were shocked speechless, so Michael pulled you into another hug. You hugged back, relieved. He wasn't mad at you. He apologized. Everything was going to be alright.
Bo Sinclair
Bo lived in a very, very small town. Everyone knew each other and every piece of information that existed on the surface. Rumors spread and gossip filled the air like pollen. So it didn't take very long for Bo to learn that you had been practicing engineering with the car shop just down the road.
At first Bo had been ecstatic. You were still interested in engineering? He thought you didn't want to do that anymore; you said so yourself. Ever since the incident when you were little, you hadn't helped him with anything physically constructive- not even stuff as simple as hanging a picture on the wall.
Pretty much everyone praised you and said that you were doing a tremendous job. Your skill towards fixing vehicles was a natural, golden talent. You were an impressive, fast learner and everyone loved and appreciated you.
But when Bo tried to approach you about this exciting news, he was confused to hear you deny all of it. You shut his exclamations off and said that the towns people were lying. You claimed to have nothing to do with engineering. Yes, you hung around the car shop, but nothing was going on, you were just bored.
Bo didn't understand it. Why would you lie to him about this? He knew that the towns people weren't making this up- just ask the guy who took a picture of you and your buddies covered in grease while working on a truck engine. You looked so happy. Why was that something to lie about?
For the life of him, Bo could not figure out what was going on with you. Obviously you were lying to him, but he couldn't get you to explain why. It was as if you were completely and utterly avoiding him now, and it was driving him crazy.
So Bo reached out for help.
"Well," Your engineering teacher said in a tense tone, "I talked to em an' they said it's 'cause they don't wanna make ya mad."
"Huh?" Bo shook his head in exaggeration. What did that even mean?
Your teacher gave him a wearisome look, "I think they're afraid you're gonna blow a gasket on em if they do somethin' wrong. I take it that... you got a short temp?"
At that question, Bo was immediately rushed with memories of the past, and he found himself feeling overwhelmed with guilt and dread. That time he got mad at you when you were little, you didn't just give up on engineering. You gave up on everything that had to do with him. Was this why? Because you were afraid that he would get mad at you if you messed up or made a mistake?
You were afraid of his temper.
Coming to realization, Bo spent quite a while trying to figure out how he should approach you. He wasn't the best at emotions or having deep conversations. If he tried to explain himself he feared he would just say something stupid and cause you to be more upset with him.
So he waited for the perfect moment.
A couple weeks later, Bo dragged you to his shop to show you something that caused your mouth to fall open in awe. "Ram 3500, 2018. An' look at'er license plate."
Gasping the name of the state the enormous truck was from, you faced your dad with absolute excitement and disbelief, "Why's it here?"
"Ah, a little transmission trouble on the road," Bo smiled and slung an arm around your shoulder, "Nice huh? She's a beauty. Needs lotta' work, fast, an' I want 'you' to help me."
"What?" Your behavior changed drastically, "Dad-"
"Look, I've already heard all the gossip. I've seen ya work at the shop. I know you know what you're doin', (y/n)," Bo went to stand in front of you. "But what I don't understand is why ya don't wanna work with me."
"It's not... I just..." You sighed and looked at the ground, lost on what to say. A pain filled your chest as you admitted quietly, "I ain't perfect, dad, I... I make mistakes."
"And?" Bo pushed for a better answer.
His impatience and lack of understanding made you snap, "An' you can't handle that. Every time I mess up even the tiniest bit, you get mad at me. What do you expect me to do, huh? I'm only (age)."
Going silent, Bo relaxed upon learning what exactly your insecurity was. You were avoiding him because you were afraid of him getting mad at you for making mistakes. He did this. He put this fear in you, made you this way. And because of that, you were both teetering on the edge of complete life separation.
"(y/n)," Bo reached out and put a hand on your shoulder, "I'm sorry."
Your entire body froze.
"I... never meant to make ya feel this way. I know ya ain't perfect. You're still learnin' an' you've got a long ways to go, but... I wanna be there for you, (y/n). I wanna help you. I wanna watch ya grow, an' I can't do that if ya ain't around... I'm better than I used to be. So if you mess up, I ain't gettin' mad. I'm helping you, because that's what fathers do."
Shot by your dad's moving words, you find yourself staring at him for a long moment before a large smile bloomed across your face. "Right dad," You say, "Let's take a look at her."
With his heart skipping over the moon, Bo grinned and thanked the very stars themselves for this moment, and he lead you to your first shared project since you were a mere, little kid.
Hannibal Lecter
One night Hannibal got bored and lonely and decided to go to Will's house which was where you liked to spend lots of time at. He didn't mind you staying with Will, but some times he himself felt a little bit left out.
When he arrived at Will's house, he quietly made way up the stairs of the porch and temporarily paused just outside of the window. Casually peeking in, Hannibal spotted Will sitting at the dining table reading a newspaper while you stood in front of the stove in the kitchen. Your sleeves were clumsily rolled up and you had a apron on.
The motions of your arms and the state of the kitchen did not lie. You were cooking. You were quite literally cooking food right in front of him. Hannibal couldn't help but to release a small shudder of mixed emotions. It had been years since he last saw you cook- years since he demolished your feelings and forced you away from the passion you both once shared.
To see you cooking now? It made Hannibal erupt with questions and emotions. How long had this been going on? What were you cooking? Why were you cooking? How come he didn't know? Were you happy? Was this why you always spent so much time with Will?
Speaking oh whom, Hannibal watched as you handed out a spoon to which Will stood up to receive. Taking a taste of the spoon, Will made a bright face and reached out for a container of spice. You smiled, laughed and nodded, happily going to add some of the recommended spice to your dish.
Grinning, Hannibal couldn't help but to feel great pride. So, you could handle personal opinions and constructive criticism? What an astounding chef you turned out to be, and you looked so happy too.
Regaining his composure, Hannibal straightened his hair and went to knock on the door.
It took over five minutes for Will to answer.
By that time, things had grown to be rather chaotic. Now only did Will claim that you had gone to bed, but that he also was the one responsible for the late night meal.
Hannibal knew better though.
Whilst you pretended to sleep in the guest bedroom, Will and Hannibal stood in the kitchen gazing around at all your hard work.
"They told me what happened when they were little," Will said, a disappointed look on his face, "How could you say that to them, doc?"
Hannibal stared down at your unfinished dish, his heart clenching in memory of the past. "I spoke out of impulse. I didn't mean to cause them this much insecurity." To think you would go out of your way to lie to him. "How long has this affair been going on?"
"I don't know. Few years?" Will shrugged, "I was cooking macaroni one day, they asked to help and... The ship set sail, I guess."
"You reignited their flame," Hannibal huffed and smiled, "I'm grateful."
"Ever thought about apologizing?" Will asked.
"I have," Hannibal said softly, "However, they refuse to have anything to do with cooking."
"You told them that they were a horrible cook and a waste of time in the kitchen. What did you expect would happen?"
Hannibal bowed his head in shame. He hurt you, more than he had ever imagined. After all these years he believed that you had moved on and found different passions, but instead you clung to cooking and desperately sought hiding it from him because of fear. What kind of father was he to do that to you?
The next morning after the drive home, Hannibal kept you in the car to say, "(y/n). I know it was you who cooked at Wills the other night. I saw."
Having been dreading this exact conversation, you flushed darkly and turned your head away in great shame, sadness and fear. "I'm sorry."
"Please do not apologize," Hannibal cursed at himself for how anxious he made you feel, "I am more grateful than you could ever know."
That stirred a confused reaction from you.
"(y/n), you do not have to accept my apology, but I want you to promise me that you will continue to do what you enjoy, especially if it is cooking." Hannibal looked to you hopefully. "Seeing how happy you were... You have no idea how much joy it brought me. I thought I had destroyed your passion, but..."
Now completely facing your dad, your mouth was agape and your heart pounding furiously with emotions.
"I've always regretted what I said to you that day. It was rude and improper, and most certainly untrue. You are an astounding cook and I'm proud of you. I'm sorry that I hurt you, but, even if you do not wish to forgive me, I hope that you will always continue to do what you love."
Looking at your dad with watery eyes, you blinked and fought for the right words to respond with. All these years you had been terrified of your dad's wrath and disapproval when it came to cooking. He was right, he did hurt you, and the pain was still lingering inside you.
Even though what he said now brought you some form of relief and comfort, you couldn't help but to still feel a little bit of lingering hurt. "I... I need time." You reply quietly.
Hannibal nodded in understanding, "And time you shall have. I will always be here to support you."
-
If I made a part three, it could be about the reader still suffering some anxiety while doing their passion around their dad. And the slasher dads' will be nothing but happy, supportive and proud. You know, just casual comfort and fluff.
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makoodles · 2 years
Text
ミ tìyawn / ve’kì [nsfw]
🍓 pairing: tsu'tey x fem!human reader
🍓 word count: 12k
🍓 tags: nsfw, human/na'vi relationship, angst to fluff (kinda), jealousy, vaginal sex, tsu'tey is one seriously conflicted boy
masterlist
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It’s no secret that Tsu’tey hates the Sky People.
They are demons, blind to the world around them and so utterly destructive in their natures. His planet, his home, has seen nothing but chaos and hardship ever since they have arrived.
They are small and weak, yet vicious and harmful in just about every way. He has not known true peace since their arrival.
The sky demons have no redeeming qualities. Or at least, almost no redeeming qualities.
“Fuck! Oh, god-”
“Be quiet.” Tsu’tey grunts, gripping the woven cushions that you’re bent over so hard that the skin goes taut and bloodless over his knuckles.
Honestly though, it seems as though this is your attempt at staying quiet – your eyes are squeezed shut tight and your little blunt teeth are digging into your lower lip hard. Your face is all screwed up, your breaths coming in little panting gasps as he ruts into you.
“Are you not embarrassed? So loud.” He mumbles, though his tone doesn’t match his words at all. 
He really can’t manage to stir up the usual feelings of disgust he has for sky demons, not when he can see the way your little toes are curling everytime he fucks into you.
“Fuck off.” You say, but your voice is all weak and trembling.
The sound of it only intensifies that heat building in his lower belly. You’re so small underneath him, your pussy stretched to its limit and dripping all over the thick length of him. Despite the size difference, you’re taking it so easily.
It’s far from the first time that he’s had you like this, on your hands and knees beneath him as you take him so well, but he still gets such a thrill out of it. He enjoys your pathetic little noises, the whimpers and moans and mewls as you wiggle and squirm beneath him, trying to get him to hit just right.
You make a sort of little mewling noise, muffled by the floor as you turn your face into the woven reed flooring beneath you, and then he feels you tighten up like a damn vice around his cock, your cunt fluttering as you come again. 
“Another one,” He notes, not bothering to hide his amusement. “Greedy.”
When he comes into you, it’s with a soft, satisfied little grunt. He has done this many times already, yet the pleasure always surprises him. He’s never felt anything as tight as you, so good that it borders on painful, and the element of illicitness only adds an additional little thrill to the whole thing.
You’re still making soft, muffled little sounds as his hips rock lazily, riding out the last tingling aftershocks of his own orgasm. He enjoys those little noises immensely, and he makes a rumbly sound of satisfaction as he plasters himself over the top of you and allows his weight to press you down into the floor entirely.
“Ow, fuck-” You mumble into the floor. “You’re fucking heavy, asshole, getoffme-”
“Quiet.” Tsu’tey mumbles, his eyes sliding shut as he attempts to enjoy the pleasant tingling feeling in his fingers and toes following his release. “You are always talking, mouth never closed.”
“You didn’t mind my mouth being open earlier.” You shoot back, attempting to throw a pitiful little glare over your shoulder.
 He thinks of your mouth earlier, wide open and hot and wet as you worked your tongue over him, and smirks.
“Okay, seriously.” You grumble, a little louder this time. You reach around and shove irritably at his chest. “Get off, dickhead. Did you tear your stitches? I told you to be careful-”
Tsu’tey just grunts and rolls off you, landing on his back and stretching his spine out with a sigh. No sooner has he started to relax than you’ve sat up to peer closely at the healing wounds along his chest and stomach.
“Do not touch.” He snaps, baring his teeth at you when you prod at the ridiculous little sutures that you had insisted on threading into him weeks ago. 
“You’ve been touching me for the last forty minutes.” You grumble, but you take your hands back all the same.
Tsu’tey doesn’t bother responding to that. He’s feeling pleasantly loose and relaxed, and he’s trying to enjoy that feeling for as long as possible before the weight of all his responsibilities come rushing back in.
Though you’re not touching him, he can feel your eyes on him as you examine his injuries, making sure none of them have torn open during your activities. Your concern pricks at his pride, and he grumbles lowly as you peer closer at him.
“You’re lucky you didn’t bust these,” You say. 
“You would just redo them anyway.” He grunts without opening his eyes.
There’s a pause. Then you sigh.
“Yeah.” You murmur, so quiet he almost doesn’t hear. “I guess I would.”
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This little… arrangement with you had started nearly two months ago. He can’t even fully remember how it had happened – you were some kind of healer, and had stayed around after the battle to help the wounded. Initially, he refused your help. He would have rather suffered the pain of his wounds than feel your little demon hands on him, but you had been practically forced upon him by Jakesully. 
For the first week or so, it had been nothing but sniping back and forth with each other. At some point, his insults and your challenges had evolved into heated exchanges that ended up like this, with you on your hands and knees or on your back for him as you both search for pleasure out of each other's bodies. 
After the great battle with the Sky People, most of them have been forced off the planet. The ones left are loyal to the Na’vi, or so Jakesully says. Tsu’tey is not convinced; they do not belong here, and he does not like them. Their presence aggravates him; he is still healing from the near-fatal wounds he had sustained during the battle, and he does not like having enemies around while he feels so vulnerable. 
You are not an exception to this; your presence aggravates him in a way he does not know how to describe. He is not blind or ignorant enough to claim that you are not attractive, in your own demon sort of way, but that reluctant sort of attraction only infuriates him further. He thinks something may have broken inside him after his fall from the sky during the great battle, but he refuses to think too much about it. 
It’s just a way of working out his frustration and you clearly enjoy these encounters. It’s not worth putting too much thought into.
Life slowly returns to normal after the majority of the Sky People leave. For weeks, the Omaticaya rebuild their home. The loss of Hometree was devastating, and the efforts to rebuild is both physically and emotionally taxing for the People. 
Tsu’tey does his best to pull his weight when it comes to helping out with the construction of their new encampment, but it is made difficult by the fact that you follow him around like a pest.
“I said no heavy lifting-”
“Go away, demon.” Tsu’tey grumbles, irritated by your presence.
“Doctor’s orders.” You’ve tilted your chin up, as stubbornly obstinate as ever. “Put that down.”
“Go away.” Tsu’tey repeats, but this time he reaches out and shoves at your head. It’s not a particularly rough gesture (he doesn’t actually want to hurt you), but it’s just enough to push you off balance.
You stagger a little, but keep on following him. He doesn’t bother trying to hide his irritation – the basket he is carrying is full of building materials, but it is not particularly heavy. He resents the fact that a creature as pathetically fragile as yourself would question his strength. 
And even more than that, he resents the fact that his wounds are admittedly paining him a little.
“I’m the one who’s gonna have to stitch you back up if you burst those-”
“I did not ask for your demon medicine.” Tsu’tey bares his fangs at you, growing genuinely aggravated. “I do not want it. Go and bother someone else.”
“But-”
Someone calls Tsu’tey’s name from further into the village, and he pulls his attention away from you to look towards the call. At his hip, you cross your arms and grumble as though you’re unhappy that his attention is not solely on you. You are a greedy thing, just like the rest of your people – always looking for more.
The one who has called him is Saeyla, and he has to suppress a sigh at the sight of her. She was his student once, and a talented one. She always did have much potential, but things have been very awkward between them since she had offered herself to him as a mate at the Tree of Souls. He had been harsh when he had rebuffed her, but perhaps not harsh enough if she is calling to him once more. 
It is typical that she has appeared in his path while you are hovering at his hip. A Na’vi woman that he rejected, and a human woman that he frequently chooses to be intimate with. It sounds like a bad joke.
“Saeyla.” He greets, hoping that he does not sound as tired as he feels. “What do you want?”
Despite the fact that she had called out to him, Saeyla is not actually looking at him. Her eyes are fixed on you, her brow puckered in visible distaste. There is no way for Saeyla to know of the little illicit sexual relationship between you two, and yet Tsu’tey feels his shoulders tense. He does not like to think of how she would react if she were to find out.
“Go away.” Saeyla speaks, but it’s not directed at him. She bares her teeth and hisses at you, and Tsu’tey bristles despite himself.
You actually take a step back, no doubt cowed by the venom in Saeyla’s tone, but Tsu’tey grabs the back of your neck and holds you in place by his hip. The audacity of his old student irks him, and he narrows his eyes and lets his lip curl as he looks at her.
“You do not give orders.” He says sharply to Saeyla. “I have business with the demon.”
You’ve gone uncharacteristically silent by his side, and he just barely resists the urge to glance down at you. Where is all that annoying fire gone? Usually he can’t get you to shut up at all.
Saeyla is still glaring, but at least now she’s looking at Tsu’tey. “Why is she following you?”
He doesn’t have a good answer to that, so he just glares back at her. He dislikes her tone, and he is not used to being questioned. 
“What do you want?” He repeats himself, an unmistakable edge creeping into his voice.
There’s a pause, and then Saeyla purses her lips and throws her hair over her shoulder. Her kuru is drawn over her chest, long and glossy – her movements are calculated to draw attention to it, in a move that is unmistakably flirtatious. 
Tsu’tey’s ears flatten against his head at her boldness, uncertain what to make of this. 
“I wish to speak to you.” She says, before cutting a glance towards you at his side. “Without the demon present.”
For a moment, Tsu’tey says nothing. He stands there, tail swishing uneasily, as he considers the situation. This is admittedly more uncomfortable than it should be. He had rejected Saeyla’s mating proposal harshly, and now he feels as though he has been cornered by her yet again. 
Even worse, you stand at his side to remind him that he has apparently turned down the company of a fine, respectable Na’vi woman to rut with a human.
With a sigh he removes his hand from the back of your neck and instead pushes at your shoulder. “Go. Leave us.”
You pause, dithering a little, before relenting and stepping back. He does not glance down at you as you retreat, but rather keeps his eyes fixed on Saeyla, who is watching you as though she’s about to start hunting you.
Once you have retreated beyond earshot, Saeyla speaks up. “Ma’Tsu’tey. I was wondering if you have reconsidered my proposal.”
Once, Tsu’tey may have attempted to keep a neutral expression and to meet her bold requests with patience. But since the battle, since his injury, since he had started fucking you, he feels like a raw nerve, pulsing and peeled open and exposed. He feels as though he’s lost some of his control, some of the safe rigidity that had ruled his life up to now. 
“I have not.” He says bluntly.
But just like always, Saeyla does not know when to stop pushing.
“I understand that you are not ready to take a mate.” She says, stepping closer to him even as he stands stiff and still. “But the battle is over, and the People are rebuilding. I am happy to be… if not a mate, then a lover-”
His eyes flare wide, surprised by her brazenness.
“Saeyla,” He bites out. “You overstep.”
“It is an offer.” She says simply, bowing her head in what would have been a gesture of deferment if not for the way she is stubbornly maintaining eye contact with him. “Just an offer.”
Tsu’tey’s upper lip lifts up in a snarl, baring his sharp upper teeth. “I do not enjoy repeating myself.”
As always, Saeyla is unapologetic. She keeps staring up at him in a way that she likely believes is seductive, but is really just uncomfortably intense.
“Consider it.” She entreats him, finally stepping back. “You are lonely, I know it. I wish to share the burden with you.”
His jaw clenches, his shoulders straightening and going rigid. He probably should consider her offer. She is a woman of the People, a warrior-hunter who has completed her iknimaya, and she is not unattractive. And yet, his entire being rejects the idea of taking her as a mate. It feels wrong in a way that he does not understand.
Without another word, Tsu’tey turns from her and marches away. 
He feels restless and discomfited, his tail swishing low around his legs in annoyance as he storms back through the village. Some of the People call out greetings to him as he passes, but he is too preoccupied to reply. 
“Tsu’tey,” Jakesully calls when he passes by him, “Brother, I thought you weren’t cleared for heavy lifting yet-”
“What?” Tsu’tey snaps, turning with a scowl.
Jakesully pauses, his eyebrows creeping up at Tsu’tey’s overly aggressive tone of voice. Chagrined, Tsu’tey takes a moment to breathe, forcing himself to calm down. He is being unreasonable.
“I thought our resident little nurse had ordered you not to be doing any heavy lifting.” Jakesully says slowly. “You’re bleeding a little there.”
Tsu’tey follows Jake’s pointing finger to his chest, and sees that one of the neat little stitches around one of his wounds has torn open a little bit.
“Ah,” Tsu’tey’s brow contorts in frustration. “She will be a pain about this.”
Jakesully reaches out and takes the large basket from him, still watching his face carefully. “Yeah, well, we’re lucky to have her. Most of the medical personnel went back to Earth.”
“All of the demons should have gone back.” Tsu’tey says, but he’s somewhat distracted. He’s basically just repeating old arguments, his attention preoccupied with the blood that’s trickling over his chest from where your careful stitches had torn at the skin.
Jakesully gives him a look of intense disapproval, but Tsu’tey does not quail beneath it. It is a disagreement that the two of them have had several times. Tsu’tey believes that Jake is blinded by his past as a tawtute, and that he is unfairly biased in their favour, and Jake believes that Tsu’tey is allowing his prejudice to blind him when it comes to forming alliances and friendships with the sky demons that remain here.
“What crawled up your ass today?” Jake demands, brow furrowed.
Tsu’tey nearly chokes. “I- what? Nothing is up my-”
“Why are you even grouchier than normal?” Jake interrupts his protests, still frowning. “I thought you were getting along better with her.”
“No.” Tsu’tey denies instantly, his ears pinning back defensively. “I do not like her.”
Jake’s eyes narrow, visibly unconvinced. “Right. Well, Jesus, if you’re so against having her help, go to one of the Omaticaya healers.”
It’s not an unreasonable suggestion, but Jakesully has no way of knowing that Tsu’tey goes to you for reasons other than simple medical help. There is no simple way of describing the strange sexual relationship he has with you now, not without admitting a level of vulnerability that he is uncomfortable with. His attraction to you is a shameful thing that he would prefer to indulge in without having to analyse at all.
He just grunts, brow furrowed, and doesn’t answer.
“Whatever.” Jakesully blows out a frustrated breath, clearly done with both Tsu’tey and the conversation. “Do what you want. But don’t be so damn hard on her, yeah?”
Tsu’tey just scowls at him, before turning on his heel and storming purposefully back into the village. Why is it that everyone thinks they know what he wants better than he himself does today?
Predictably, he finds you in the little outpost that has been built to house the demons that have chosen to stay close to the village. 
He has to loop one of those horrible little masks around his neck when he ducks inside, taking the odd puff of air every five minutes or so as he lopes into the outpost. The ceilings are high, made to accommodate the demon avatar bodies that some of the scientists have, but he still feels claustrophobic in the confined space.
The outpost itself is quiet at this time of day – the sky demons keep busy, often attempting to offer help in the village or just wandering the forests with their stupid technology as they research. 
He finds you in your usual workspace near the back, fiddling with one of the glowing pad things that the demons usually use. You don’t look up as he approaches, even though he’s sure that you hear him. You appear absorbed in your work, except when he gets close he can see that you’re just staring at the pad without actually doing anything.
“What are you doing here?” You ask, still not raising your head. “I thought you were busy.”
Tsu’tey hums, poking at one of the strange machines that line the little room you’ve been working in. All this demon technology makes him uneasy, and his ears stay pinned against the side of his head as he hovers behind you.
“These stitches have broken.” He says, reaching up to scratch at where some of the blood has begun to dry.
That finally makes you turn, though your expression is all crumpled up into a frown as you step forward to peer at his chest. Ridiculously, he feels a little guilty. You had told him to be careful so many times, after all, and now he has made more work for you. But then he pushes those little feelings of guilt down deep – he was not going to be a burden on the clan by not helping out when he should, no matter how much you begged him to be still and useless as he healed.
To his surprise, you don’t scold him. You just purse your lips and gesture to the small flat bed that you use for his medical check-ups, and he sits without complaint. He is familiar with this routine by now, but his tail curls uncomfortably as you remain silent – you haven’t even said I told you so.
You place your small hands on his chest as you lean in to inspect the wound that cuts across his left pectoral muscle, right where the stitches at the top of the cut have torn. Your expression makes it very clear that you are unhappy with what you see, and yet you still remain quiet.
Tsu’tey allows the silence to stretch as you wash your hands and gather your medical supplies, threading a small needle as you prepare to redo his suturing. Even when you actually begin to fix his stitches, the needle pricking at his skin uncomfortably, he waits for you to speak first. 
It becomes clear very quickly that you’re content to do his stitches in silence. Unusual. You should have been scolding him by now, insulting him as you usually do. Then he would be able to insult you right back, and you would respond with a challenge, and then eventually the two of you would wind up in a sweating, moaning heap, as usual.
But you stay silent, your tiny hands gentle as you painstakingly work on his wounds.
Tsu’tey’s tail lashes, on edge. “You are quiet today.”
You just hum, without making any real effort to answer at all. It only makes his agitation worse. Why are you acting so strange?
When you finally finish up with his stitches, you step back and move to wash your hands, still not saying a thing. He watches you carefully, brow furrowed. 
You’re wearing a small white top, but you seem to have gone without your usual breast covering – a bra, you’ve called it before. He hadn’t noticed earlier, but now that he’s looking at you he can see the way your nipples press against the thin cotton material. Despite the oddness in your demeanour, Tsu’tey can feel himself growing aroused.
Perhaps he’s been conditioned to expect pleasure from these little encounters with you, because he’s growing hard beneath his tewng. He reaches for you, his tail swishing slowly as his hand trails over your waist.
You finally look up at him, but you neatly sidestep his hand. Surprised, Tsu’tey’s ears twitch back and flatten. You’ve never avoided his touch before – if anything, you’ve always been deliciously eager for him.
“What did Saeyla want?” You ask, turning away from him to dispose of the used needle and bloody wipes.
He blinks. He’s a little taken aback by the question, so it doesn’t occur to him to lie.
“She wished to offer herself to me as a mate.” He says. “And when I denied her, she offered herself as a lover.”
A muscle in your jaw pulses, and you flick your hair back before throwing him a look over your shoulder. “And what did you say?”
He frowns. Your manner is confusing him. Are you angry at him for tearing the stitches? You have always told him that you would stitch him back up again, so he had not thought you would be mad. 
He reaches out again, and again you step away. He scowls, frustrated.
“Am I not allowed to touch you?”
“What did you say to her? What was your answer?” You repeat, taking another step back as you squint at his face.
He blows out a breath, irritated. “It is not your business.”
“Not my business?” You repeat, sounding faintly disbelieving. “Not my business?”
Your eyebrows are raised and your eyes are narrowed, your mouth pressed into a firm line. Tsu’tey is not very good at reading the expressions of Sky People, but even he can tell that he’s treading a dangerous line here. You seem angry, though he can’t understand why.
“My mating prospects are a concern for the People, and the People alone.” Tsu’tey says, leaning forward to scowl at you. “It is not the business of tawtute.”
You scoff, folding your arms tight across your chest. “You seemed to enjoy making your mating prospects my business when you were fucking me after every damn check-up.”
“That was not mating.” Tsu’tey snaps. “That was…” He thinks of a phrase he has heard Jakesully use before, a human idiom that you will surely understand. “That was blowing off steam.”
You take a sharp breath. If you looked angry before, now you look furious.
“Blowing off steam?” You repeat, your voice trembling with righteous anger. “Are you fucking joking? I mean- I know that you don’t like humans, but I thought- I thought that you-” 
Tsu’tey’s tail lashes, and he pushes himself up off the bed. He does not like this; you are unexpectedly angry, and he does not know what to do with the brunt of your frustration. He has argued with you before, small and petty disagreements as you snipe at each other, and it has always been resolved with you face-down and ass-up as he pounds his way into you. This argument feels different. He doubts there will be such a pleasurable end to this one.
“Do you even-” You start, your face all screwed up. “Do you even like me?”
What a loaded question. He doesn’t even know how to begin answering that – he just stares at you like a total skxawng, his brows furrowed and eyes flared wide in bewilderment. The two of you have never spoken about what it is you’re doing together, or about how either of you feel about it. If anything, Tsu’tey has been trying his damn hardest not to think about things. 
“You-” He starts, floundering a little and trying to hide it. He hates appearing uncertain or vulnerable in any way. “You are… a good healer. And you are… attractive.”
You are more than attractive, really. You are so small and delicate, squishy and soft, and you heal rather than destroy like the rest of your kin. He likes that you are so concerned about him, that you care so much for his healing. Your weakness is also something that is distinctly… thrilling to him. He likes that he feels as though he can protect you, he likes that he feels so strong around you. When you’re not actively tending to his wounds, he’ll admit that his eyes trail after you more often than they should.
He doesn’t say any of that out loud. “But you are still a tawtute.”
“So it’s fine to fuck me, but nothing else, is that it?” You demand, glaring at him. “Jesus, why have you even been wasting your time with me?”
His ears pin back, confused. He had thought that you were both on the same wavelength when it came to where you stood with each other. It had never felt like a waste of time to him.
Tsu’tey hates the Sky People. Everyone knows that. You were the most bearable of all of them, and he will admit that you are enticing with the soft plushness of your body and your sweet little face, but you are still a sky demon. His attraction to you is a shame that he wrestles with constantly, only quieting when he is with you properly.
You’re breathing heavily, your chest heaving as you try to regulate yourself. “You know what? Fuck off. Go ahead and fuck Saeyla, or one of many other Na’vi women that are clearly into you. There’s no fucking reason for you to be wasting both of our time like this.”
When he doesn’t move, you bare your teeth and reach up to shove at his stomach as hard as you can. You are one of the weakest little creatures he’s ever come across, so there’s no chance of you actually managing to shift him – still though, he takes a step back as you shove at him again.
“Get out! Go away!”
Tsu’tey growls warningly, and grabs at your small hands with one of his before tugging your arms to the side so that you can’t shove at him anymore.
“Calm down.” He warns, frowning at you. “You are overreacting-”
“Oh, you asshole!” You yell, visibly furious. “Don’t tell me I’m overreacting! Just go – go find Saeyla and tell her that you accept, and don’t come around here anymore!”
Tsu’tey rumbles a growl, his lip curling at you. How do you have the audacity to tell him not to come around somewhere on his own planet when you are the interloper here?
“You do not tell me what to do-” He begins, but you’re not even listening to him.
“Go!” You shout, and this time he does as you say.
He beats a retreat out of the outpost, his tail lashing in agitation as he storms out. He doesn’t look back once, and you don’t follow after him. 
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For the next couple of days, Tsu’tey stews.
It is his nature to brood over things anyway, but even he can recognise that he’s particularly moody in the days following his disagreement with you. He skulks around the village and tries to help where he can, but Jakesully banishes him from the heavy-lifting. That means that Tsu’tey has even more time to sulk to himself, replaying the argument in his head and trying to figure out what the fuck had happened.
Strangely enough, he does not see you around the village at all. Not even a glimpse in the distance. It makes him uneasy.
Before the incident with Saeyla, you used to follow him around constantly, badgering him about being careful and minding his stitches. It had been irritating, but now that you’ve seemingly disappeared he finds himself hyper-conscious of your absence.
Eventually, he finds himself outside the demon outpost once more. He can’t quite believe that he’s here of his own free will, but he tells himself that it’s just because he needs his stitches checked. They look fine, but it’s better to just make sure.
But when he shoves his way inside, he’s unnerved to find that you aren’t here either. There are several tawtute around the outpost, and they look both startled and bewildered to see him here. He pays no attention to them, searching the place for any sign of you.
There’s another Sky Person in your usual work space, a male, and he looks absolutely terrified when Tsu’tey approaches.
“Oh,” The demon says, straightening up. “I- hello. Do you- you’re here for a check up?”
Tsu’tey’s lips peel back in a sneer, a harsh snarl rumbling in his chest. The tawtute shrinks back, horrified.
“Where is she?” He demands, looking around as though you might emerge from behind one of their strange machines at any moment.
The demon swallows thickly. At least he doesn’t insult Tsu’tey by pretending that he does not know who he’s talking about.
 “Um… she’s not around right now.” His voice is trembling slightly, but he still gets his point across. “She said that if you came in about those stitches, that, um… well, she said to tell you that you should go to a Na’vi healer.”
Tsu’tey’s nostrils flare, and the tawtute flinches. “I want to speak to her.”
The man just shrugs, all jerky and stiff. “She’s not here, man. Sorry.”
It takes days before Tsu’tey sees you again.
He is starting to grow genuinely frustrated with your absence, and in some sense worried too, though he didn’t want to admit it. So when you finally reappear, Tsu’tey is honestly relieved.
That sense of relief doesn’t last for very long, because the next time he sees you, you aren’t alone. 
Tsu’tey knows that you are a healer, of course. He knows that you must surely attend to other people. But ever since he was injured in the great battle, the only person that he’s seen you focus on is him. 
Maybe that’s why it’s such a shock to finally catch sight of you tucked away in a corner of the village with your head bent over the arm of Artuk, a recently blooded male of the Omaticaya. He was a student of Tsu’tey himself, and only completed his iknimaya trials a few weeks ago. 
As a young hunter, he is free to choose a mate for himself. It is utterly galling to see the way that his tail coils so close to your thigh as you inspect the cut on his arm, gently cleaning it of blood. 
Artuk’s ears rotate forward as you speak to him, his eyes half-lidded as he listens closely to whatever it is that you’re saying. He looks too interested, and Tsu’tey feels his own ears pin back defensively at the sight before him.
Perhaps he is reading too much into this. You are a healer. You are healing. Artuk is probably not looking at you in that way at all – surely Tsu’tey is the only one with that specific illness that makes him feel attracted to the sky demons that tried to destroy his home. Or at least, one particular sky demon.
Still though, he ends up hovering nearby and trying to look busy as he steals glances over to where you’re standing next to Artuk. The young hunter’s arm has been carefully bandaged up by your gentle hands, but Tsu’tey notices that you’re still holding onto his arm anyway. 
When you laugh at something he says, Tsu’tey’s ears flick even lower. Art’uk has never been particularly funny, so what are you laughing at?
Artuk starts to grin, looking disgustingly pleased with himself. Then, to Tsu’tey’s horror, he starts to shuffle closer to you. 
And you just stand there, not making any move to edge away. If anything, you look flattered by the attention. As Tsu’tey watches, your smile turns faintly shy and you reach up to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. 
You look so pretty from here, even if you are too small and weak and odd-looking. The fact that your smile is directed at Artuk is disgraceful, and it causes Tsu’tey’s teeth to gnash.
The last straw comes when Artuk’s tail moves low and begins to coil around your ankle. There is no mistaking what a move like that means, and Tsu’tey grimaces in pure shock. Art’uk is flirting with you. His intentions are unmistakable.
What the fuck? Artuk setting his sights on a sky demon is one thing, but setting his sights on you? That is something that Tsu’tey could never have predicted.
He’s moving before he even realises it. There is no plan, he’s not even thinking, and before he knows it he ends up standing in front of you and Artuk with a scowl so forceful that it’s nearly giving him a headache.
Artuk startles, his eyes blowing wide as he attempts to sit up straight. “Ma’Tsutey! I did not see you!”
Tsu’tey just glowers. The youngling is hardly even a man yet, and yet his tail is still coiled around your ankle in some pathetic attempt at asserting ownership. Where did he get the audacity? And you! You were letting him!
“What happened?” Tsu’tey asks, and his voice comes out rough with irritation. He nods pointedly towards Artuk, where his arm has been so carefully wrapped by your skilled hands.
“Oh,” Artuk’s ears twitch, a sign of embarrassment. “An accident with construction. A beam slipped and cut me.”
“A foolish mistake.” Tsu’tey snaps disdainfully.
You speak up for the first time, but you don’t look at Tsu’tey at all. Your gaze is still focused on Artuk’s arm, despite the fact that it’s already been wrapped.
“Accidents happen.” You say, before sending Artuk a sympathetic little smile. “Does it still hurt?”
“A little.” He says, and Tsu’tey snorts in contempt. 
What kind of warrior snivels over such a small injury?
“Oh,” You coo sympathetically, and stroke a thumb just beneath his bandages. “Poor thing. Well, it’s clean now, so you shouldn’t be at risk of infection-”
Artuk is nodding, but Tsu’tey knows that he isn’t really listening. He’s too busy staring at your face, his eyes lingering around your strange little blunt teeth and your odd nose. Tsu’tey understands the appeal – he has studied your foreign features enough to be rather intimately familiar with them – but he finds himself resentful of Artuk’s interest. Innocent fascination would be one thing, but he can see by Artuk’s body language that his interest in you is not innocent. 
“Thank you for your help.” Artuk says so earnestly that it sets Tsu’tey’s teeth on edge. “You have very gentle hands.”
Tsu’tey rolls his eyes violently, but you seem flattered by that little comment. You look down, all flustered, and smile up at Artuk from beneath your eyelashes. It’s a look that would have had Tsu’tey’s kuru tingling and his cock stiffening, if only it had been directed at him and not Artuk.
“Alright,” Tsu’tey finally says, his voice much louder than entirely necessary. “Go away, Artuk. I must speak with the tawtute.”
Your head snaps around, and you glower at him so intensely that it almost physically burns. Tsu’tey doesn’t care – it doesn’t matter that you’re glaring at him so long as he has your attention on him and not Artuk.
“I can’t imagine what you think we have to talk about.” You say sharply, sticking your nose up at him.
You’re such a prissy little thing. He has no idea why he likes it so much – he doesn’t think he’s ever enjoyed that in a woman before. 
“I think we have lots to talk about, little thing.” He rumbles, and watches the way your lips purse.
He is not blind. He sees the way your eyes dart over the muscles of his chest and down over his waist and hips, before quickly darting away towards safer territory. Unfortunately, it seems as though you’ve decided that safer territory means towards Artuk.
Tsu’tey bristles, frustrated that your attention keeps straying. He’s never had an issue keeping your attention before. If anything, he’s always found it difficult to escape your fussing. That he is being denied your attention now is making his skin itch.
“I’ll check on this later, alright?” You say, smiling at Artuk once more before straightening your little tank top and stepping back.
Tsu’tey relaxes slightly as space grows between the two of you, though he keeps darting his gaze between you and the young hunter. Artuk’s tail coyly slips away from your ankle, though it drags painstakingly slowly across your skin as it does so. Tsu’tey just barely manages to resist the urge to grab it and tear it away from you entirely.
“Yes. Thank you again.” Artuk says, his ears lowering in supplication. “Will you have dinner in the village this evening? I will see you then?”
“I’m not sure yet.” You say, a little awkwardly. “We’ll see.”
Artuk takes that in stride, and he gives you one last smile before leaving you alone with Tsu’tey. He doesn’t even spare Tsu’tey a glance as he walks away, and Tsu’tey is struck by his boldness once more. He certainly hasn’t always been this confident; Tsu’tey remembers him as a weedy youngling who cried from frustration when he found himself unable to hit the target during training. 
Now that it is just you and Tsu’tey, it seems as though you’re absolutely determined to ignore him. You drop your attention to the little medical kit that you carry around everywhere, packing away the disinfectant and the bandages that you’ve been using. 
“What was that?” Tsu’tey demands, ducking his head down towards you so that he can speak to you with an illusion of privacy. “You say you will check on that small scratch of Artuk’s, and yet you have not looked at my stitches for many days now.”
“You’ve told me hundreds of times by now that you think human medicine isn’t worth shit and that you don’t want it anywhere near you-”
“You have never listened to me before.” Tsu’tey snaps back, aggravated. “Why are you listening now?”
“Tsu’tey, go away.” You grit out without looking at him. “I don’t want to talk to you.”
“So you would speak to Artuk instead?” He asks, frowning as he shuffles closer.
You turn and scowl up at him once more, and Tsu’tey feels something within him ease at having your attention on him again.
“Artuk actually wants to speak to me.” You say sharply. “Unlike you. Why are you here?”
“I am here because I do want to speak to you.” He points out in frustration. “You have been avoiding me.”
“Yes, obviously.” You sling your little pack of supplies over your shoulder, clearly preparing to leave. “I can’t imagine why that would bother you. You have made your opinion on me perfectly clear-”
“Well, I obviously have not made it clear if you are avoiding me.” He reaches to stop you from leaving, but stops short of actually touching you. “Stop. I wish to talk.”
“Fine.” Your small hands are clenched into fists. “Talk then. Tell me exactly what you think of me.”
For a moment, Tsu’tey just stands there. You’re watching him expectantly, your hands on your hips, and your brows are drawn together challengingly. It’s almost comical to see a small thing like you act so defiantly, but Tsu’tey feels warmth curl in his belly at the sight. It’s sweet.
“Come back to my kelku.” He blurts. It’s not quite what he had meant to say, but the words are already out and he can’t take them back.
You scoff. “No. Jesus, all you do is think with your fucking dick-”
“Not for that.” He says hastily, ears lowering. “Just for talking.”
You're still scowling, your arms coming up to cross defensively over your chest. You don’t appear too convinced by him, but he is not willing to give up just yet. 
“Let us go to the tawtute outpost instead, then.” He offers. “Just to talk. That is all.”
Slowly, so slowly, you start to relent. Your shoulders lower and your arms drop, but you keep scowling. 
When Tsu’tey sees you start to give in, he seizes on it. “Ten minutes. Just ten minutes.”
He’s pleading like a moron, his dignity lying in tatters around his feet. It’s a little mortifying to have to beg a demon just for the chance to plead his case, but he stands firm anyway – he may as well commit fully, after all.
You sigh, and reach up to rub at the back of your neck. You look tired, and he feels guilt creeping into his stomach.
“Ten minutes.” You say firmly, before turning on your heel and marching away.
Tsu’tey wastes no time in following you. Usually, it is him leading the way with you following along at his heels, so for him to be following behind you like this is a novelty. He finds his eyes glued to your back as he walks after you, careful to take smaller steps so that he can stay behind you.
He lets his gaze travel down your back and over the curve of your waist and the swell of your hips. It’s not often that he gets a chance to look like this – he’s usually trying too hard to pretend that he’s not aware of you at all. Now, he allows himself to appreciate the view as your steps cause your hips to sway.
The two of you have just reached the edge of the village when there’s a call of Tsu’tey’s name.
He’s fully prepared to ignore it, but then you pause from where you’re marching ahead of him and turn your head to look back in the direction of the village.
It is Saeyla again, he knows without even looking. He sighs as he follows your lead in pausing and looking towards her.
Saeyla has taken a step towards the two of you, her eyes narrowed and resentful as her gaze falls on you.
“Go away, Saeyla,” Tsu’tey calls, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I do not have time today.”
He places his hand just in between your shoulderblades and pushes, just hard enough to get you walking again. You half-stagger, glancing from Tsu’tey to Saeyla and then back again, before lurching forward.
“Are you not going to talk to-” You sound a little sour and Tsu’tey has no doubt that you’re planning some snappy little comment, but he has no intention of letting you finish.
“No,” He interrupts, still pushing you on. “I am not going to talk to her, vrrtep.”
That seems to mollify you, and you keep taking your somewhat clumsy steps into the forest, leading the way through the trees towards the outpost. Your journey together is quiet – you are still stubbornly avoiding talking to him, and he is reluctant to push his luck by attempting to draw you into conversation. 
It is a relief when the shoddy eyesore of a building looms up from the forest, and Tsu’tey speeds up without conscious thought. You let out a soft sound of complaint, but allow him to guide you into moving faster all the same.
When he follows you into the outpost building, he finds that it is far busier than the last time he was here. The sight of all the sky demons chatting and laughing and working irritates him, and he glares as he straightens up, his shoulders drawing back.
“Get out!” He delivers the order in the same harsh tone he usually uses when he is training the young hunters, and he finds it gratifying when he’s met with a frantic burst of movement.
“You are so goddamn rude.” You grit out, clearly irritated with him, but you just push further into the outpost as the other humans begin to file out.
He doesn’t particularly care for manners when it comes to interacting with tawtute, but you had looked at him so reproachfully that he hesitates to snap at them again. He just follows you towards the little medical bay you work from, looming over the scientists and glowering at them to get them moving out of the building a little quicker.
You lead him into the small medical room and as the doors whoosh shut behind him, you lean against one of the work counters and cross your arms as you watch him. Your regard is weighty for such a small creature, and he finds himself puffing up his chest and rolling his shoulders under your gaze.
“Go on then.” You say, eyes narrowing. “Explain.”
There’s a challenging bite to your voice that has his tail curling. He is getting excited, and he hopes that you don’t notice. He imagines that you will only get angrier at him, but he can’t help it – there’s something about the jagged edges of your anger that is impossibly enticing.
“I told Saeyla no,” Tsu’tey says, and watches you very carefully for your reaction. “I told her no about mating, and I told her no about taking her as a lover. Just as I have told her before.”
Your expression wobbles, but you manage to keep up the veneer of calm aloofness remarkably well. “Am I supposed to care about this?”
Tsu’tey steps towards you, and is pleased when you don’t step away from him. He ducks his head, just slightly, so that he’s closer to eye-level with you. 
“Yes,” He murmurs. “I think you do care.”
Your jaw clenches, and he realises that you’re beginning to get defensive. He tilts his head in supplication, attempting to appear non-confrontational – he will need to be careful or you will grow too angry to listen to him.
“I do like you,” He says. “You asked me before. The answer is yes, I do like you.”
You sigh, then reach up to rub at your face in frustration. It is rare that he gets access to your face like this; your face always appears so impossibly distant to him, all locked behind the awful plastic bubble of your mask, and he watches with ill-disguised interest as you press your fingers into your eyelids.
“Are you only telling me this because I was talking to Artuk?” You demand, your eyes squeezing shut in frustration. 
Tsu’tey shifts on his feet. He feels as though it would probably be unwise to answer that question, but he wants to be truthful with you.
“I have been thinking these few days.” He says, frowning. “But I did not like seeing him with you. He should not make advances on you like that.”
You laugh, but you most certainly do not sound amused.
“Why not?” You demand, stepping towards him. “He doesn’t mind that I’m human.”
Tsu’tey’s ears twitch, his mouth pursing. “Is today the first time he spoke with you?”
You scoff again, turning your face away from him. At first he thinks that you are so frustrated with him that you can hardly bear to look him in the eye, but then he sees that your mouth is pursed and your eyes are shifty – you are embarrassed.
“No.” You say, clearing your throat. “It isn’t.”
Tsu’tey inhales sharply. This does not please him at all.
“He’s friendly,” Your arms tighten across your chest defensively. “And he treats me like a person rather than a demon.” After that jab you pause, but then keep going as though the confession just spills out of you. “He… he’s hurt himself a couple of times over the last few weeks. He brings me fruit when he comes to get fixed up.”
That is a revelation that leaves Tsu’tey reeling. There is no reason that Artuk could not find a Na’vi healer in the clan to fix him up – and why was a hunter who had completed his iknimaya and was recognised as a man in the eyes of the People getting injured so often, anyway? And bringing you fruit? That, in conjunction with how his tail had curled so boldly around your little ankles, was undoubtedly a mating display.
And this has been going on for weeks? Tsu’tey has been fucking you for months, at least two, which means that surely Artuk has smelled his scent on you. That means that he has chosen to challenge Tsu’tey’s claim to you anyway, a fact that has Tsu’tey bristling. Not that his claim is obvious, admittedly. He should have noticed, should have done something about this.
To realise that his old student has been seeking you out like this is utterly galling. He feels a little ill at the thought of you accepting Artuk’s offering of fruit, of you smiling at him as you patch up his wounds, of you allowing Artuk to touch you.
Tsu’tey steps forward without thinking, reaching for your waist. This time, you don’t back away from him. His stomach leaps a little bit in mingled excitement and relief, and he lowers himself to his knees as both his hands cup you by the waist. It chafes at his dignity a little, to kneel before a sky demon like this, but when your eyes settle on his face he feels something in him ease.
Your eyes dart down to his hands, so large where they wrap around your torso, before darting quickly back up to his face.
“You only have ten minutes.” You remind him, raising your chin. “And you haven’t done much talking.”
Bossy, he thinks, amused despite himself. He has never been very good at talking, but he’s determined to do the best he can.
“I do not like Artuk talking to you.” He says, his fingers curling into the soft material of your clothes. “I do not like him bringing you fruit. I do not like that he is attempting to offer himself to you as a mate-”
“Oh, that isn’t what he’s doing.” You roll your eyes, but Tsu’tey ignores you.
If Artuk was brave enough to be so damn unapologetic about his desire for you, then Tsu’tey should be too. It might be shameful to desire a tawtute, but it would be even more shameful to have the tawtute he desired stolen away by another.
“I enjoy your softness, I like your small hands, I like that you care so much about the wellbeing of other people,” He starts, his tail lashing. “I like that you are small and bold. I like it when you get angry. I like the noises you make when you open up around my cock-”
You let out a noise of pure mortification, your hands jumping up to grab at his wrists where he’s holding you.
“Oh, stop!” You hiss, clearly flustered. “Where is this coming from? I thought we were just blowing off steam. If you want a lover, go to Saeyla-”
Tsu’tey cuts you off with a frustrated snarl, his fingers tightening around your little hips. 
“You are angry at me for something that I have not done.” He points out, clicking his tongue. “I have rejected Saeyla, I have rejected Txisma, I have rejected Ninat. Can you not see? You are the only one I have had.”
Your forehead is all wrinkled as you frown. You seem confused, and he can’t blame you – his feelings have been confusing him, too. 
“Do you-” He starts to ask, insecurity rising up in his throat like bile and gripping him tight. “Do you like me?”
“Ugh!” You throw your hands up, narrowly avoiding knocking him upside the head. “You’re so stupid! “
His ears pin back and his lips press tight together, but he does not argue. He is still waiting for you to answer the question, and it seems as though you’re just working yourself up.
“Of course I fucking like you!” You snap. Tsu’tey doesn’t even have time to feel pleased about that before you continue. “Do you have any idea how humiliating all this has been? I didn’t even really care that you were being a total asshole the whole time we were hooking up because at least you were noticing me. I understood why you called me a demon, I understood why you talked all that shit about humans. I still do undertand! We’ve been awful!  But I thought that maybe you were getting over it, since you were coming to find me damn near every day just to fuck. I thought that maybe you might like me-”
“I do like you.” Tsu’tey says quickly, but you actually hiss at him. 
“Shut up!” You snap. “I’m not finished!”
You have no fangs, so you should be utterly unintimidating, but he finds his ears flattening as he sits back on his knees, falling silent. It probably shouldn’t be attractive, seeing you like this. He attempts to stifle his reaction the best that he can in the hopes that you won’t notice the way he is shifting.
“You’re rude, and grumpy, and sometimes talking to you is like trying to talk to a brick wall!” You continue, your little face all contorted in frustration. “You think you know best, even when you don’t, and you won’t listen to my goddamned medical advice even when it will fucking help you! And I’ve had to redo those stupid stitches of yours at least a dozen times-!”
Tsu’tey’s own brows are furrowed now. Are you confessing that you like him, or are you just going to list out all of his faults?
“And yeah, I like you anyway.” You sigh, rubbing at your face. “God knows why. Maybe it’s your nice face, or stupid sexy body.”
Ah. A compliment. Tsu’tey tosses his braids back and smiles smugly. So you do like him. Excellent. 
“I am sorry that I upset you.” Tsu’tey says, his voice low in the intimate quiet of the room. “I have been… confused. But I know that I want you.”
“Like, actually want me?” You ask, one of your eyebrows cocked in challenge. “Or do you mean you just want to fuck me?”
“No, I mean-” Tsu’tey takes a breath, confused but determined. “Fully. I want you fully.”
Your expression falters, and you bite your lip hard in an effort to conceal your feelings. “Oh yeah? Even if I’m just a human? Are you willing to defend your choice to the rest of the clan?”
“Yes.” He breathes. “I… I think so.”
Your face collapses into a scowl, and he realises almost immediately that he has made a mistake.  
“Well,” You say; your tone is so faux-sweet that it’s almost sickening. “Why don’t you just come back when you're certain, then?”
You reach down and knock his hands off your waist, then turn from him and begin to march towards the door. The sight of you trying to leave sends his stomach plummeting to his feet. Has he lost his chance? Is his ten minutes up? Panicked, he lunges forward and grabs at your little hands.
“Wait.”
 He is still on his knees, which makes it difficult to shuffle after you, but he still manages to lightly tug you back to him. You yelp, reaching up to plant your hands against his chest in an effort to keep your balance. 
“I want you,” He says urgently. “I am certain.”
You pause, your breathing coming heavier as you stare at him. He can see the whites of your eyes as you watch him in what looks like disbelief.
“What if you want to take a mate later?” You demand, eyes narrowing. “What if you decide that I’m not enough, or that you want a Na’vi mate-”
“You are it.” He interrupts, hoping that his tone conveys just how earnest he is being about this. “Demon or not, I… it is you that I want. Just you.”
He’s not expecting you to lurch towards him, your little hands reaching up to grab at his face. When you press your soft little lips to his in a kiss, his hands find purchase on your hips and he uses his grip there to haul you closer.
"Sweet little demon," He breathes against your mouth, "Please, just- let me-"
"Yes," You gasp into the kiss as you reach up to tangle your hands in his hair, desperate to make the kiss last. "Yes, alright-"
When Tsu’tey’s hands slip down your back and over the curve of your ass, it sends a visceral jolt up your spine. He lets out a soft grunt, and squeezes at the pliable flesh there as you kiss him fiercely. He doesn't know how you’re able to do this, to make every small contact feel so unbelievably good. He swears that even your chastest touches make his head swim. 
The hand that he had on your ass slips around to your front, where he plucks at the waistband of your stupid leg coverings.
“Remove.” He groans out, his voice rough and gritty with arousal. 
You do as he says eagerly, pawing at the button closure before shoving your pants roughly down over your thighs. You are so sweet and insistent, and you keep kissing him with unrelenting heat as you push your trousers off. He unclasps his own tewng and tosses it aside before his hands return to your body.
His hands roam over the soft material of your top, landing just over your squishy breasts. You are not wearing a bra again today, and he delights in the feeling of them in his palms through your top. You are so much smaller than him that your breasts fit neatly in his hand, and he marvels at the sight. 
“Fuck,” You whimper as his thumb brushes over one of your firmed up nipples. “Oh, fuck, please.”
His fingers curl into the fabric covering your tits, and he tugs at it lightly. “Remove.”
You start to wrestle your way out of your top, and Tsu’tey feels a little thrill at how easily you are obeying him right now. As soon as your top is removed and your breasts are bare, his hands coast down over your ass. His hands squeeze lightly over the squidge there, and then he uses his grip on you to haul you up into his arms. 
You squeal a little in surprise, before you dissolve into laughter as he holds you against his chest and nuzzles into the base of your throat. Tsu’tey breaks out into a wild grin at your reaction, unrestrained and thrilled – your laughter is an unspeakable relief after being on the receiving end of your ire for so long.
You’ve barely stopped kissing him once, your little hands cupping his face and keeping him firmly in place as you nip at his mouth. The wet heat of your tongue against his has his head spinning as though he had drunk too much of the fermented nectar the clan makes for celebrations.
When one of his hands slips into the flimsy cotton of your panties, he takes a sharp breath when his fingers find the slick heat between your legs. Oh, you’re so wet, all sticky and slippery as the pads of his fingers ghost over your swollen little clit. 
You moan, your hips jerking, and Tsu’tey grins into the kiss, sharp teeth bared. It seems as though you want him as badly as he wants you.
His fingers press into at the same moment as he ducks his head down and bites at your throat, and you wheeze as your back arches. Your hips are chasing his hand, rutting up and trying to get him where you want him. It’s cute, and he suckles at your neck as you shiver against him.
“Tsu’tey,” You breathe, your hands winding into his hair. “Tsu’tey, please-”
He is almost unbearably hard, but he can’t bring himself to tear his hands away from you in order to take care of himself. He just grunts, and allows his thumb to roll over your clit as you gasp a tremulous little breath.
"Tsu’tey," You complain, beginning to writhe around his hand. "Will you- can you just-" 
When he just chuckles at your tone you huff and reach down, grabbing a hold of the hand he’s got between your thighs and rutting your wet pussy against his fingers.
“Yes,” You breathe, your eyelids fluttering dazedly as your head tilts back. “Like that.”
Tsu’tey watches with an open mouth as you grind against his hand, sucking his fingers in deeper as you rut your clit up against his thumb. Heat flares through his nerve endings at the sight alone, and he ducks his head down and laves his tongue over one of your breasts.
You cry out, pressing closer, and he takes the hint to keep going. He suckles at your firm nipple, enjoying the way that your breath stutters as you absolutely soak the hand between your legs.
“Fuck!” You sob, but then you bite your lip hard to stifle any more sounds as he rolls his thumb insistently over your clit.
Tsu’tey breaks away from your chest, his mouth leaving a string of drool connected to the breast he had been sucking at. He frowns at the sight of you biting your lip to stay quiet.
“Let me hear you.” He says, and the gravel in his voice surprises even him.
“No,” You grumble, though you’re breathless. “You always say I’m too loud. Mouth never closed, remember?”
Damn. He curses his past self for sabotaging him like this.
“I was a skxawng. You must not listen to me.” He murmurs, kissing your breast before licking over your nipple. “I like it. Let me hear.”
The next time his thumb rolls over your clit, you let out a soft, breathless moan. The sound hits him like a punch to the gut and goes straight to his cock. 
He feels a little bit feral as he takes a hold of your hips and lifts you, walking quickly to the large medical cot in the corner of the room.
The medical bed was built to withstand the weight of avatar bodies, yet when Tsu’tey lands heavily on it with you in his arms it judders unsteadily beneath him. You let out a small noise of concern, grabbing at his biceps for stability as he clambers atop you, settling between your legs and looping your thighs around his waist.
His fingers return to your cunt instantly, and his chest rumbles in a satisfied purr when your little cunt swallows them inside with ease. Your hips buck up to meet his thrusting fingers, it seems without conscious thought on your part. You’re absolutely soaking, and your pussy makes obscene, wet noises with every plunge and retreat of his fingers as you pant.
Your obvious pleasure and the feel, sound and smell of your sex ratchets up Tsu’tey’s own excitement. He finds himself rock hard just thinking about how good it’s going to feel to have your soft, slick body envelop his cock, and he moans against your breast.
“Okay,” You breathe, spreading your thighs further as he settles into the cradle between your leg. “Come on, fuck me.”
You’re such a pushy little thing. It’s taking every ounce of strength in him not to flip you onto your stomach and just pound you senseless, but he’s trying to prove himself to you here. He will make you feel good, but he will do it carefully.
“Yes, little thing,” He breathes, his cock hard and unyielding as it rubs against the folds of your sex. “Alright.”
He grips the base of his cock, grunting with the effort it takes to hold himself back. He pushes his hips forward, the tip of his cock dragging against you as he grinds lazily in between your thighs. 
When he does finally begin to push in, he does it painfully slowly. Your brow puckers, your lower lip sucked in between your teeth as you inhale sharply and whine. He watches your reactions with avid interest, his eyes tracing over your face as he pushes into you. He thinks you look beautiful like this. You are soft and strange and small, but your features please him just as your bossy little attitude does.
“Relax, vrrtep,” He murmurs, nosing at your sweat-slick temple. “Or I will not fit.”
“Just- do it-” You’re trying to hump your hips onto his cock like a damn little brat, and it nearly makes him laugh out loud.
He knows you can take it – he’s had you before when you were less prepared, and he’s not sure why it feels so different this time. 
He eases his pelvis back, and then pushes forward all at once until he’s halfway inside. You shriek, clawing at his strong shoulders, and he stills for a moment to let you adjust. 
You whine, breathy and wanting, as Tsu’tey lowers his chest so that he’s pressed tight against you with your breasts all squished up against him. Like this, he can feel the frantic flutters of your heartbeat against him, and his own heart thumping rhythmically as if to mellow yours out. He purrs, chest rumbling soothingly as he slides deeper.
Your eyes are squeezed shut as you gasp, and Tsu’tey’s purring takes on an edge.
“I want you to look at me when I claim you.” He says, his lips dragging over the base of your throat. 
“Stupid,” You gasp, your nails biting into his back. “As if it could be anyone else.”
"I want you to watch," He clarifies, nipping at your collarbone. "After this, your cunt will know no other than me."
“Jesus fuck-”
He hunches over you until you’re engulfed beneath him – you’re so tiny, and he’s never felt like such a mighty warrior as he does right now, with you safe and caged in by his own body.
With a grunt, he begins to rut into you properly. You fit around him like a vice, so tight that it feels as though you’re trying to actually squeeze his cock right off. The wet heat of you steals his breath away, and he moans senselessly into your throat. He feels lightheaded with pleasure, and clutches mindlessly at the soft flesh of your ass.
You scrabble at his chest, and he blinks in bewilderment as you grab at the breathing mask looped around his neck and bring it to his mouth. He takes a deep breath and some of that lightheadedness fades, but he still feels positively dizzy.
He looks down, and feels his brain practically blank at the sight of your pussy stretched taut around his cock, swollen and shining wet as he fucks into the hot cradle between your legs. You take him so well, entirely at his mercy as he lifts your ass up so that he can push into you at an angle, your legs locking tight around his narrow hips.
You reach up and fist his braids in your hand, and he snarls like a beast. Has this always felt so good? Or does his body recognise that his mind has finally opened up, accepting you as a potential mate?
His strokes steadily became long and powerful, angled just the way that you usually like. You reach above your head and clasp the steel bars of the medical bed to hold yourself steady, and Tsu’tey’s eyes drop eagerly to your chest as your breasts bounce.
“Lovely,” He mutters drunkenly, bowing his head to suck a bruise into the top of your breast. “Yuey, ma’tawtute.”
The noises that you’re making have his head spinning. How could he have ever shushed you? He was a bigger fool than he can even fully comprehend.
He grips your ass and pulls you up closer, your thighs squeezing tight around his hips. You whine, then choke, then go silent as he strokes into you as fiercely as he dares without hurting you.
“Do not go quiet on me now, mate.” He croons, one hand pawing between your legs in search of the swollen bead of your clit. “Let me hear you.”
He isn’t going to last long in the agonisingly tight heat of you, but it’s so terribly important that you come first. It is a matter of pride, of dignity, of his honour as a man – he needs you to know that it is a priority for him to please you.
“Oh, fuck.” You practically wail it, the word all drawn out and slightly slurred as your head tosses back. “Keep- keep touching me like that, please!”
Tsu’tey does as you ask, his fingers rolling insistently against your clit, so soft and swollen from your arousal. Your back arches and your cunt clamps down on him, and he damn near blacks out from the sheer overload of sensation.
“Oh, yes,” You pant, eyes wide and mouth open. “Tsu’tey, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna-”
“Yes,” He says eagerly, a purr ripping through his chest. “Yes, let me see your pleasure. Give it to me.”
It seems to wash over you like a wave, your eyes rolling back as your head tips against the bed, your fingers scrabbling across his back. Your walls tighten around his cock in pulsing waves, and you let out a soft keening that sounds like a garbled version of his name.
You’re a mess, all sweaty hair and glowing skin and limp limbs as your orgasm rocks through you. You look beautiful, and Tsu’tey doesn’t allow himself to blink the entire time you’re coming. 
Your climax marks the end of Tsu’tey’s control, and he lets himself go. His head drops to your shoulder and then he’s running on pure instinct and biting. His teeth are sharp and pierce your soft skin easily, without the need for any real force. He drives into you, breathing heavily, grunting as he thrusts harder and faster, letting the world fall away until he’s aware of nothing else but the singular sensation of fucking you, of knowing you’re his, of keeping you safe, only you, his and his alone.
With that thought, he comes suddenly – harder and faster than he’d intended – and the shock of it ripples down his spine like an electric current, sparking in his blood and seeping into his veins. He moans around your shoulder as he spends himself inside of you, feeling his release fill you and overflow, dripping out of the tight space already stuffed so full.
For a long moment, the only sound in your little cramped office is the sound of the two of you panting for breath. It doesn’t occur to Tsu’tey to breathe from the mask again until you start fumbling for it, but he releases your shoulder from his mouth and takes a deep inhale when you press it to his face. His tail waves lazily at the gesture – you’re such a caring little thing.
Just like all of the previous sexual dalliances between the two of you, Tsu’tey goes entirely boneless after his orgasm. He doesn’t even bother to pull out of you, just enjoying the feeling of intimacy as he goes lax over you, ensuring that his body weight is rolled slightly to the side so that he doesn’t crush you. 
“Okay?” He manages to ask, still feeling a little as though his brain has been liquefied.
You pant out a breathless laugh. “Oh yeah. I’m so okay.”
Tsu’tey hums as he nuzzles your jaw, the side of your neck. When you raise your hand and run them through the braids at his scalp, his eyes flutter shut instantly. Your small fingers scratch lightly at his scalp, and he lets out a purr so loud it nearly shocks him. How could Saeyla have ever thought she could compare with this? It feels so right, and he curls himself around you with another quiet purr thrumming in his chest.
You let out a soft noise, and Tsu’tey raises his head so that he can look at the bite mark he’s left on your shoulder. It’s bleeding lightly and sluggishly, and he runs a thumb lazily over the indentation of his teeth, smearing some of the blood over your skin. The sight of his mark on you, his claim on you, has his spent cock pulsing tiredly inside of you.
“Are you hurt, small one?” He wonders. He can’t quite drum up any guilt over marking you this way, but that doesn’t mean that he wants you to feel pain.
You just scoff, your head tilted back towards the ceiling as you breathe. “It stings, but it’s fine. You’re a real asshole, you know that? What the fuck was that? You’ve never bitten me before!”
“Of course not,” Tsu’tey mumbles, laving his tongue over his own teeth marks on your shoulder. “I have not claimed you properly before. It was important to fix that.”
You exhale at that, a breathy little laugh. “Oh, claiming, huh? Why didn’t you tell me? Next time, I’ll give you a big nasty bite too.”
Tsu’tey’s tail curls, his ears twitching in excitement. Do you mean that? You wish to claim him too, in the way of his People? How would it feel to sport your mark on him, made by your blunt little teeth? He would wear it with pride, he thinks. He can imagine your smug little face at the sight of Saeyla noticing, and he barely stifles a quiet snigger in your hair.
“Next time, tìyawn.” He promises you, hardly able to contain his own excitement at the idea.
You just yawn, blissfully unaware of the way that his thoughts are racing, and turn your face into his chest. “I feel like I want to sleep for a hundred years.”
Tsu’tey chuckles, his hands drifting low over your back. His fingers pet absently over the base of your spine, fascinated by the lack of tail there.
“You must sleep later, vrrtep.” He murmurs, before nipping lightly at your other shoulder that doesn’t have his bite. “Come. Let us go and get food.”
That catches your attention, and you squint up at him through disbelieving eyes.
“Now?”
“Yes.” Tsu’tey says simply, his tail lashing. “Artuk is waiting to see you there.”
He nuzzles into his mating bite on your shoulder, and feels you sigh under him. There is no possibility of you misunderstanding what he means, what he wants Artuk to see.
“You’re such an asshole.” You say yet again, but this time Tsu’tey’s ears twitch at the unmistakable fondness in your voice. “A possessive asshole, apparently.”
He doesn’t bother trying to deny that. He is a possessive man, and always has been. There are very few things in life that he has to call his own, and he is fiercely protective of them. Now, that stretches to include you.
It’s no secret that Tsu’tey hates the Sky People. But he’s willing to admit that you just might be an exception to that.
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kaciidubs · 1 year
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Open Heart
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❣ Summary: When you don't know what to say or do, when life starts living you, you can always rely on Chris to bring you back. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 3.2k ❣ Warnings: Mental breakdown, existential crisis, implied panic attack, angst, fluff, comfort, crying, Supportive BF! Chris, Reader is a mess mentally and emotionally, discussions of family, careers, life, and the future, self doubt, self deprecation, mentioned disassociation ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Channie, Baby, Christopher, and Christopher Bahng [wowie], Reader is referred to as Princess, Baby, Love, Sweet Girl, this is the one that's personal so I'm sorry if you can relate but also you're not alone ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist
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“Yeah, dad, I know... Mhm... No, I haven’t heard back from them yet, but it’s only been a week since I applied so... Yeah, I know…”
You paced the living room of your apartment, holding your phone to your ear as you did your best to tame the headache brewing in your head. 
“I know you do, it’s just - there’s so many things I can do with my degree, I’m just trying to figure out what I want to do... I know... Yeah... Okay... Talk to you later... Love you too, bye.” 
Ending the call, you tossed your phone onto the couch with a heavy sigh - the weight of the world piling on top of stress already weighing on your shoulders. 
Everything sucked - almost as if the world was out to get you for simply existing; years of doing what was right, doing what you were supposed to, only for you to still feel like you weren’t doing enough. 
People pleasing. 
A wave of guilt made your stomach turn, tears stinging behind your eyes as you stood in the silence, yet it still felt so loud. 
You knew your dad meant well, your parents meant well, your family meant well, but every question, every poorly veiled nudge of ‘What’s your next big move going to be? You’ve been stagnant for so long.’ ate at your psyche at every turn. You felt like you did everything; you graduated high school in the high percentage of your class, you went to college, you graduated as a first generation student after five excruciatingly long years - yet through all that they still wanted more from you. 
A pleasure to have known. You have so much potential.
If you had a dime for the amount of times you’ve heard those words, you would’ve been a millionaire by now. 
A shaky breath rattled in your chest as you sighed, your hands rising to cup your rapidly heating face. “Fuck... F-Fuck.”
Your vision blurred, salty tears stinging your eyes before burning fiery trails down your cheeks with no signs of stopping. 
When was it going to be enough? When were you going to be enough? 
Your breath hitched, choking on a sob that your body refused to let go - not now, not right now. You were still young, you had so much potential - so why did it feel like you were being rushed? Why did it feel like everyone saw some invisible clock above you, counting down the days until you’d become useless? 
Wasted potential - those words always used to scare you, the famous buzzwords of any educator wanting to instill proper work ethic in their students; the future of the workforce. 
Wasted potential - that’s what you were beginning to feel at your 9-5; a quaint little job you kept throughout your final semester, something that got the bills paid and kept a little more in your savings. 
Wasted potential - that’s what you felt when your days began blending together, when you realized disassociation was your coping mechanism until your mouse hovered over ‘clock out’. 
You wanted to do so much, so much, but there was never enough time in the day - they were never ideas that would earn you a proper living wage, a career path your family wouldn’t agree with. 
Your body shook as a sob finally tore through your silent cries, your head throbbing as air tried to force its way into your lungs - crying never used to hurt like this.
Your world spun, it felt like time froze while speeding up, but all you could do was cry - stand in your living room and cry like a reprimanded child because you weren’t doing what you were supposed to. 
“Princess?” 
Your eyes snapped open behind your fingers, quickly registering a bigger, warmer pair wrapping around your wrists. 
“Baby, can you hear me?” 
Guilt. 
Chris was home early, and instead of relaxing like he deserved, he now had to tend to you - crying over the same thing you cried over four months ago. 
He felt you tense, he could see the spiral of overthinking, and his grip tightened, “Hey, hey, it’s just me - it’s just me, princess.” 
You sniffled, biting back another sob as you shook your head, “’M s-sorry-” 
“Shh, don’t apologize - you don’t have to apologize, not to me, not for this.” 
Understanding - he was always so good at that, making sure you knew you weren’t the problem of anything; he always joked he got better at it from you. 
Another wave of tears surged through you, nearly making you double over at the rush of fresh emotions popping off in your brain, your jaw tensing as you tried to stifle the illegible babbling falling from your lips. 
“I- It’s- I can’t- And- It’s just so-” 
Chris pulled you into his chest, one arm wrapping around your shoulders while the other cradled the back of your neck, his thumb rubbing circles just behind your ear. “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay - I’m here, you’re okay.” 
He blinked away his own tears, the sounds of your cries breaking his heart when he entered the apartment, and now the feeling of your body shaking against his like a fall leaf utterly tearing him apart inside. 
You weren’t sure how long you both stood there, him whispering words of comfort in your ear while you stained his black hoodie with your tears, but you slowly came out of your breakdown with uneven breaths - your hands holding onto his hoodie as if he was your lifeline. 
He was your lifeline.
“Can we go to the bedroom, princess? Can we manage that?” He cooed softly, a soft smile settling on his lips as he felt you nod. “Okay, we’ll go slow, yeah?” 
True to his word, he slowly led you into the bedroom with shuffling steps, noting how you clung to him like a baby koala, as if you separated from him at any point you’d float away into space. 
Sitting on the bed first, he scooted toward the middle of the mattress and you quickly followed suit; crawling toward him before laying your head on his chest, tangling your legs with his while he pulled you into his side. 
It was quiet, save for the occasional hiccuped breath and sniffle, the sound of his heartbeat slowing the thudding in your own head, the rise and fall of his chest reminding you how to breathe again.
“Love?” 
You hummed softly, your free hand nonchalantly playing with the drawstring of his hoodie. 
“Wanna talk about what happened?” 
Dropping your hand to lay flat on his chest, you took a deep breath to fight back another round of tears threatening to come out. “I... My dad called to check in, see how we were doing and all... He wanted to know if I found a different job yet, one that uses my degree, and I told him I hadn’t.” Swallowing thickly, you squeezed your eyes shut as you continued, “He’s worried that I’m not using my full potential, that I’m not getting paid what I should - and I don’t blame him, really, I went to college for a reason and everything, but it just feels like I'm being rushed into making another decision I’m not ready for." 
“Another decision like picking your major?” Chris chimed in - he’d remembered you telling him about your realization of wanting to switch majors in your junior year, but ultimately choosing not to since you were close to graduating at the time. 
You nodded, “I know he means well, I love my dad, I love my family, but it just feels like they don’t understand that I'm just...tired. I’m so, so tired that the idea of getting a new job - when I’ve only been at this one for just over a year - makes me feel like I can’t breathe. Fuck, the fact that I’ve been at this job for a year makes my skin crawl because this isn't what I want.”
Picking mindlessly at a few cotton pills collected on the fabric of his hoodie, a heavy sigh escaped you, “I feel like all I’ve been doing my whole life is performing for other people, catering to other people, to the point that I don’t even know who I am. I’ve always been told all these great things about myself, but-” A hot tear rolled across the bridge of your nose, “I don’t believe them, at all. Everyone sees all this potential in me and it drives me crazy because I don’t see potential in myself.”
Your name rolled off of his tongue softly, with so much care and gentleness that it made your heart hurt more because he’d been part of the crowd singing your praises and you practically confessed that you didn’t believe him. 
“Princess, my sweet, sweet girl…” 
“C-Chris, I’m-” 
“Please,” he cut you off with a gentle squeeze, “you already know what I’m gonna say if the next words out of that pretty mouth of yours are ‘I’m sorry’.”
Sighing softly, you accepted that fate as his right hand slid down your arm to take your hand in his, another gentle squeeze to remind you that he’s right here. 
“I just... I don’t know what I’m going to do.” 
“Well,” Chris hummed softly, taking in the way your smaller fingers threaded between his own, “what is it you want to do?” 
It was almost as if you stopped breathing, guilt and shame swirling around in your head at his question - the golden question everyone had, but never got the full answer to. 
“...open heart?” 
This time it was Chris’s turn to falter, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of your tear stained face. “Open heart, princess, always.” 
Open heart, something you’d both established years ago in your relationship as a way of asking for full attention - reestablishing that you both were in a safe space with zero judgment, remaining heart to heart with one another. 
“I-” You paused, fighting against the will of your mind wanting to keep yourself protected, from being seen. “I... I don't want to do anything…”
Before he even had the chance to breathe, you jumped into the defensive, “A-And I know that’s stupid- I’m in such a position so early on in my life and there’s so much I can do, but, baby, I’m at a point right now that I can’t see myself working a 9-5 for the next month, let alone another 40-or so years of my life!” Panic quickly began to set in as your thoughts ran a mile a minute, your brain begging you to stop but your heart pleading for you to get rid of this weight. “I can’t be a girl boss, I don’t want to be independent, I-I just wanna be taken care of and loved and supported - I wanna take care of all the things at home and be the one helping you reset after those stressful days. I wanna learn about myself and my hobbies and discover what kind of person I really am underneath all of these learned traits. And I’m sorry, I know, it’s pathetic, it’s shameful, it’s selfish to want to put all of this onto you-” 
The sound of your name falling firm from his lips stopped you in your tracks, your blood running cold as you laid as still as you could be against him. 
“Open heart means we can’t speak for each other, remember that rule?” His tone was softer, light and teasing, quelling the tinge of fear spoiling every word you spoke as you nodded. “Okay, good - now, can I say something, or would you like to continue?” 
“Please say something, Channie.” 
“Alright, first and foremost, don’t ever, ever call anything you want ‘stupid’ - your desires are what make you you, and that includes wanting that 24-inch green matcha squishmallow.” 
He felt your body shake - short laugh, a huff of air, a sign that he was breaking through.
“Second, I don’t think you wanting to be provided for is pathetic or shameful or selfish - it takes a strong person to admit that, and at the end of the day I think that’s what everyone wants in their own special form; somewhere they feel safe, cared for, loved. And, you’re not putting it all on me,” he felt you tense, but his hand held firm to yours, “because I want to be that for you. I want to provide for you, take care of you, handle all the things that are too big and scary for you to figure out on your own. I want to give you the freedom to explore and be yourself, pursue what you want and don’t want to do - and if that makes you ‘selfish’ then, princess, I’m the most selfish person of them all.”
“You-” your voice cracked, throat raw and sore, “You don’t mean that, baby, please-”
“C’mere.” He huffed, pulling you up with him as he sat up before tapping your thigh, signaling for you to sit on his lap - and once you were situated, he cupped your face in his hands, “I would never lie to you, you hear me? Since the day we met I knew I wanted to do everything in my power to care for you, even when we were just friends and you would join the kids in teasing me about how old I was even though you weren’t too far off yourself.” 
Your pouted lips morphed into a sad smile and he had to stop himself from cooing over how cute you looked, even with puffy eyes and an even puffier face.
“Plus, I’ve been taking care of seven other people for the better half of five years, what makes you think I don’t want to do the same for the love of my life?”
Teary eyes searched his for any sign of dishonesty, but all you found was overflowing truth and love, a fresh breath of acceptance cooling your lungs like drinking ice water after eating a mint.
“Open heart?” You murmured softly, taking his hands in your own before pulling them off of your, embarrassingly sore, face.
He nodded, ducking his head to press a fleeting kiss to your knuckles.
“I was always a little jealous of you, you know that?”
“Me?!” 
The shocked squeak in his voice made a giggle, a genuine giggle, bubble up inside of you and you nodded in earnest. 
“Yeah, you. I always felt like I was so far behind everyone around me when it came to having their passions in order, having their lives in order, and when I met you all I could think about was how sure of yourself you were - how you were able to follow through and actually do what you love for a living not only because people around you supported you, but because you believed in yourself.” Dropping your gaze to your entwined hands, you traced your thumbs along his knuckles, “You always knew what you wanted and you worked toward it - I always wished I could be like that, I still do.”
“Baby, you know you can’t-”
“-compare my life to yours, yeah, yeah, I know.”
He didn’t miss the lilt of playfulness highlighting your words, a smile finding its way to his face as he shot you a lighthearted glare, “No mocking! But, really, you shouldn’t - we come from completely different backgrounds, and if anything I’m more jealous of you than you are of me; there’s so many things you’ve done that I haven’t had the chance to experience.”
You let out an incredulous scoff, tilting your head inquisitively, “Like what? Work a draining part time job in the food industry?”
“Yes!” Though he was laughing, you could still hear the serious notes in his voice, “You got to work retail, you went on family vacations whenever you wanted, you fucking graduated college before I did!”
“Okay, first of all, all of my horror stories should deter you from ever wanting to become a retail employee in your near future!” Dropping his hand, you poked him in the chest with a faux glare, “Second, I guess you’ve got me there - between how often I’ve seen my family compared to you, I do win that spot… But that last one you definitely have over me, Mr. Double Major!”
“Oh shut up - you’re a graduate, I’m still in classes; you didn’t have to go from having practice at 8 but an exam due at 8:30, while still needing two demo tracks ready for the first listen at 10!”
The two of you dissolved into a mess of giggles and smiles, whatever tension remained melting away with each melodic sound that escaped you.
“Princess?”
You hummed, a soft smile settling on your lips, “Yeah, Channie?”
“Open heart,” Chris started warmly, deep brown eyes sparkling with a love only you could know, “I want you to know that I meant every word I said - I do want to take care of you, physically, mentally, financially, whatever way you’ll let me. And - not to sound cocky or anything, but I definitely make enough to support the both of us with no issue. Aside from that, I want to build a life with you - so if that life includes you being the hottest stay at home wife then it’s the best life I could’ve ever asked for because you’re in it.”
A wave of heat rushed over you as butterflies erupted in your stomach, “Stay at home wife, hm?” 
Of course, you paid attention to everything else he said, but you didn’t think you’d be able to say anything on it without bursting into tears again.
“Would you prefer stay at home mom? I mean, you’ve already got seven kids calling you it anyways - and I can’t lie, it does have a nice ring to it.” He grinned, releasing your other hand to wind his arms around your waist, scooting your body closer to his.
Rolling your eyes at his less than subtle tease, you snaked your arms around his shoulders, nails playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck, “Let’s just start with stay at home girlfriend and see where we go from there, yeah?”
“So you’ll quit tomorrow?”
“Christopher!” You stood no chance in holding back the burst of laughter that escaped you, narrowly avoiding knocking your head against his as you shook with unabashed giggles, “Tomorrow? You sound like you’ve been waiting for this confession to come!”
“Baby, I was one more angry rant of your supervisor ‘springing last minute work onto you’ away from quitting for you.”
Reeling yourself back in, you leaned forward to capture his lips in a soft kiss, your world finally feeling like the pieces were slowly falling into place - or, at the very least, revealing themselves to you. “I love you, Christopher Bahng, wholly and truthfully, there’s no words in the entire galaxy to express how much you mean to me.”
He held you tight, pressing his forehead against yours with a soft sigh, “I love you more, more than you ever know, more than all the stars in this universe and the next. Whatever you decide, whatever you want, I’ll give it to you - just say the word.”
“Does that include ordering takeout for dinner tonight so we can keep cuddling?”
“Find a menu while I change?”
“Order it while I wash my face?”
“Deal.”
Everything sucked, sure, and there was still much left to figure out - but with Chris by your side, you realized that things could get better with an open mind and an open heart.
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9. "If I'm desperate it's all for you." For Nanami?
Last Call {Nanami Kento}
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When the battle in Shibuya reaches its peak, Nanami decides to give you one last call just in case
A/n: so... since the request wasn't really specific, I took it upon myself to figure out the rest of the plot.
Pairing: Nanami x sorcerer!reader
Trigger warnings: mentions of character death, mentions of anxiety and panic that are purely related to the situation,
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Truth be told, neither you nor Nanami had expected the events of Shibuya to go that far. Having Gojo there had once been a comfort but now that he was gone, it was pretty much obvious that it was a life or death situation for many sorcerers and normal people.
But you had faith in both yourself and the rest of the sorcerers that were going to be there despite originally being somewhat conflicted about the participation of the students.
Nanami didn't say anything. You knew how he was, confident that the whole thing would end up in a matter of seconds. Everyone believed the same thing. Until Gojo was sealed.
There was a moment when you thought you should probably call Nanami after the news broke. "Just to hear his voice." You kept repeating to yourself, trying to prevent the panic and anxiety from settling in. He was a grade 1 sorcered after all, of course he would get the short end of the stick.
You nesorcver ended up doing it because you had to deal with some curses.
With your own battle having come to an end and with no further orders from above, you waited, keeping an eye on the rest of the sorcerers, helping whenever you could.
"I'm going in."
His voice startled you, almost making you flinch. You didn't have to turn around to unerstand that he was beyond frustrated. It was clear from the sharp tone in his voice even though Nanami always spoke in such a gentle and soft way to you.
When you turned around, he was standing right behind you, leaving little to no space between the two of you. Under different circumstances he wouldn't have done something like that but you needed that level of comfort and so did he.
"In?" You knew what he meant but the denial had started settling in; that this was far from over. It wasn't about defeating a couple of curses, lifting the veils and hoping to find Gojo hidden under some cardboard boxes.
"The next battles require at least grade 1 sorcerers." He said, looking down at you as you fixed his shirt and hair slightly. His chest was heaving, his own battle with Shigemo having just ended.
"I am grade 1." You quickly responded.
"We're packed."
"Nanami-"
"I have taken Ijichi to a safe place. Join him and wait for reenforcements."
"Excuse me?"
You knew what he was doing. Disclosing information to keep you safe even though one more person would make the situation slightly better. You knew he didn't want to offend your abilities or belittle you. He just wanted you safe but still... it hurt.
"Please, sweetheart, do it for me." Hearing Nanami like that was odd to say the least. He was pleading, begging you to stay safe without even attempting to 'argue'.
"Additional help won't hurt." Nanami turned his head to the side, a desperate attempt to keep his cool. He would fall down on his knees to beg you if he had to.
"Please."
"Instead of being desperate to keep me safe, you should be begging for help. Who knows what else they've got in store?"
"If I am desperate it is all for you, so please. Hide."
"And let everyone else suffer?"
"I'll suffer." He breathed out. "I will suffer if I come back and you're not alive."
Nanami never came back.
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Tags: @vera-deville
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beom-pyu · 1 year
Text
like the moon ☆⋆。𖦹°‧★ huening kai
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huening kai x gn!reader , tags; mermaid!kai , human!reader , modern fantasy au , fluff , courting , slightly inspired by the little mermaid ofc , rejection , angst , getting together ? in a mermaid way , mates/soul ties , reader is sleep deprived , taehyun is a smartass , totally not stealing outfit inspo from sugar rush ride as an addition to the plot wdym haha
warnings: making out , reader's gender isn't specified but you wear dresses , near death experience? reader almost drowns
a/n: hiiii! sooooo i tried something a little different this time for my fairytale-esque fantasy lovers??? lmk how u guys feel about it :] i hope you enjoy!!! (edited but not beta read so pls excuse any mistakes aaaa)
wc: 8.4k+
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you love the ocean more than anything else in this big, wide world. you treasure the crisp air and the salty, but comforting scent of the atmosphere,  the way the rays of the sun would bounce off of the rushing waves and onto your skin fills your heart with an uncontained warmth, and the sunset reflected on the surface brings you a sense of serenity. you have loved the ocean since you were little—growing up on the coast, the sea was basically your backyard.
your mother had nicknamed you “droplet” from the way you would always run into the house dripping with ocean water, spending most of your days out at sea swimming—your favorite thing to do was pretend to be a pretty mermaid, chosen to protect the reef from any bad guys nearby. the ocean is your home, your sanctuary… where you belong.
ever since you moved towards the inner, bustling part of your town, you have made it your mission to visit the beach every few days if you can, whether it be to stay for three minutes or three hours. so here you are, stepping onto the sand with bare feet in a secluded area of the beach, jacket discarded on some random rock, notebook and pen in hand. you prefer writing your lyrics out here; the sounds of small waves hitting the shore and the occasional squawk of a passing seagull always seem to calm you, letting you release any tension in your muscles. you have been overworking yourself lately, staying up all night to produce and write songs, barely having any time to yourself to just be.
you settle down into the sand, resting your back against a washed-up long, and from there, you let your pen do all of the work. the air is a bit harsher than usual, the breeze whipping around you, knocking the bottom of your dress up slightly with the movement. you cross your legs, digging your toes into the sand as you look up at the sky—it’s a dull gray filled with heavy clouds making their move toward your small town. 
a faint frown makes its way onto your face; a summer storm must be coming soon. the clouds are still a ways away though, so you bask in the small time you have left to relax, writing down a few more lyrics as you listen to the quiet song of the sea. 
words flow easily onto the page as you let your train of thought take the reigns, a familiar serenity washing over you. the wind, although slightly aggressive, feels nice on your skin—it’s a little clammy outside, the humidity of summer lingering in the atmosphere. everything is hushed, peaceful, and you think you can fall asleep right here on the shore.
the calmness in your body only lasts for so long—your body snaps to alert as a loud, echoing shriek interrupts the quiet. you tuck your legs into your chest as your eyes scan the beach, but nothing seems out of the ordinary, save for a forgotten towel a little further down the shore and the heavy clouds above you.
you squint a bit as you look out onto the water and a beat later, you notice a head peek out from under the deep blue surface. it’s not alarming in the slightest, though—divers do frequent this area during this time of year. brushing it off, you let your body relax as you settle back against the log, watching the diver go back under the water.
for a while, things go back to the way they were, your pen writing down as many lyrics as possible, tapping your foot in the sand as you hum a quiet tune to yourself. figuring out melodies has to be your favorite part of songwriting—hearing the words on your page come to fruition is a beyond-satisfying feeling. it isn’t until a few minutes later that your groove is heckled once again, that same shriek you heard before ringing through your ears. 
your eyes immediately find their way to the water, your heart nearly stopping in your chest as you lock gazes with the same head you saw a moment ago.
you’re quick to realize that whatever you’re seeing isn’t a diver. the man, or rather… creature has emerald green eyes, almost glowing as they glare from above the water, its dark hair wet and pressed down against their forehead. something akin to white, fish-like scales line the side of its face, flashy and sparkling. you can’t see the rest of the face due to the waves, but the head goes back under before you can fully process what you just saw.
you’re frozen still—those unnaturally green eyes send a chill down your spine. there’s no way that was just a diver, or a passing fish. whatever it was, it freaks you the fuck out. maybe you’re just imagining things. you’ve been running on less than three hours of sleep a day, staying up late to write and produce. you have over 20 commissions to complete in the next two months, so to say you’ve been neglecting your health would be an understatement. thinking of the fact, you decide it’s best to head home early; not only to avoid the soon-to-come storm but also to possibly squeeze in a quick power nap before the all-nighter you’re about to pull.
shooting a quick text to taehyun about how you’re so looped out, you’re starting to hallucinate (and receiving a lengthy scolding of a text back), you make your way home—and you don’t let yourself look back onto the water after a third noise sounds from behind you. must be a dolphin mating call.
or something like that.
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the clouds have parted for the sun the next day you make it onto the beach. the wind is still persistent, but it’s not as bad as the day before, so you simply zip your jacket up to your neck as you walk through the sand. you didn’t bring your lyric book today—partially because taehyun had chastised you over the phone about your workaholic tendencies—but you really just wanted to relax. there’s a slight crook in your neck from the awful sleep you had last night, your eyelids heavy and your movements nearly sluggish. this lack of sleep has really been doing a number on you, but you know the sound of the ocean waves can help you de-stress, even just a little bit.
as you make your way to your usual spot against that big, washed-up log, you notice things sparkling in the sand right where you normally sit. you tilt your head in confusion, making your way over with a little more ferver in your step.
a small circle of pretty shells rests in your secluded spot, sparkling as the sun hits their smooth surface. they twinkle like stars in the sky and you can’t help but gasp at how beautiful they are, luminescent and bright. in the center of the circle sits a small, rusted gold necklace with an attached hand-carved pendant—the symbol is a crescent moon with faint initials at the bottom that you can’t quite read. you look around to see if anyone is around to claim the necklace, frowning a bit at the deserted beach. someone must’ve forgotten their things. 
you take a closerlook at the beautiful array, running your fingers over the awe-worthy shells—and one, in particular, catches your eye. it’s a pristine white, so rich you’d think it were manmade. it glimmers as you gently pick it up, holding it up to the sunlight. the color reminds you of those scales you had seen above the water the last time you were here.
it’s odd—whatever you imagined seemed so vivid and true. you can still physically feel the intensity of those green eyes, sharp and prying from where they watched you over the colliding waves. the sight had been so jarring that when you closed your eyes to rest that night, a pair of verdant ones glared back at you in the darkness. you don’t get enough sleep as it is, but you were barely able to get a wink of it with that image in your head.
you take a good look at the shell one last time, declaring it too beautiful to leave here all alone on the deserted beach—you slip it into your tote bag before taking a seat a few feet away from the necklace, just in case anyone comes back to retrieve it. the waves are gentle as they crash onto the shore, leaving seaweed, pebbles, and little crusteaceans in its wake. the sound is lulling as you settle your back against a nearby rock, letting your eyes slip shut to bask in the peaceful bliss.
you may have underestimated just how tired you really are, because as you blink your eyes open with a tiny yawn, you realize you had fallen asleep. the hidden gleam of the sun has moved towards west and you aren’t sure how long you’ve been here, but the uncomfortable pain in your lower back from the sharp rock behind you is telling enough.
it isn’t until you hear a small, surprised noise next to you that you actually will your brain to wake up. the scream you let out at the sight of a man crouched down next to you is absolutely embarrassing—especially with the way he simply fliches back a bit, his eyes widening at the sudden noise.
his eyes.
they’re a shockingly vivid green, round and dilated as he blinks owlishly at you.
they look incredibly familiar.
he seems to be just as startled as you are, and as your vision focuses a bit more, you notice the pearly white scales that sit on his face, glistening in the sunlight. tiny, pointy fangs peak out from his slightly ajar mouth, his black hair fluffed up and sun dried as it falls in waves on his forehead, framing his face prettily.
he’s very pretty.
but holy shit—you gasp as he blinks at you again, finally remembering where you’ve seen those eyes from.
well, this is great. you are so sleep-deprived that your imagination has now festered into some sick lucid dream. 
wake up, y/n! 
the man—the thing—seems to sense your disarray, a quiet noise sounding from the back of his throat as he reaches out to you with furrowed brows. you jump, moving back from the sudden movement, eyeing the fangs that rest on his bottom lip. 
oh god, this dream feels all too realistic and now you’re about to get eaten by some sexy monster man! this is why it’s important to have a consistent sleeping schedule, y/n!
you can hear your heartbeat in your ears as he stands to move in front of you—from this angle, you can get a good look at his figure. he’s incredibly tall, with long legs that go on for miles. his frame is covered by a tatted black and white sweater that just barely hangs onto his shoulder and a satchel across his frame, his upper body completely exposed to the slightly chilling air. he wears loose white shorts that reach just above his knees, littered with holes and tears—as if they had been washed onto sea after a treacherous journey across the ocean. that gold necklace from before rests in his hands, the chain dangling down and clinking softly in the wind. it must be his, you register. you open you mouth to defend yourself as not-a-theif—but you’re quickly cut off. 
he doesn’t speak other than to hold out the necklace to you with a small and insistent noise, his green eyes flitting quickly between yours. the pounding in your chest is incredibly persistent, every single bone inside of your body urging you to not take it—but your hand seems to have a mind of its own, reaching up to grasp the damp gold, your fingers shaking as they brush over the green-eyed man’s.
you can see the way his eyes glimmer as you warily hold the necklace against your chest, your breath stuck in your throat as he digs around in his satchel again. there’s no way you aren’t dreaming, everything seeming like a haze around you as you inspect the scattered white scales on his cheekbones, eyeing the fangs that slightly peek out from his mouth which leave shallow indents on his bottom lip.
his head turns towards you again and you feel your neck heat up from being caught staring, your gaze shooting down to your lap. you squeeze your eyes shut, willing yourself to wake up from this lucid dream, ignoring the way you can hear the man so clearly shuffling around in front of you.
you’re lucid dreaming, y/n. you really shouldn’t have eaten right before bed! wake up, wake up, wake up.
you count to ten in your head before you open your eyes again, flinching back as you find emerald green staring directly into yours. he’s kneeled down in front of you now, one of his hands in the sand next to your foot, his head cocked curiously as he scans your face—his thick, black hair falls into his eyes messily and up close, you notice the tiny beauty marks littered across his face and neck, the way his lips are bitten red, and the steady rise and fall of his chest.
so you aren’t dreaming? then that means… 
the man is cautious as he raises a hand to his chest, pressing over his heart before he bows to you. your mouth is dry—what the hell is going on?
you have no time to think before he lifts his head again, gazing up at you through his impossibly long eyelashes, the tiniest shadow of a smile slipping onto his lips. 
“i am kai.”
his voice is clumsy and horse, almost as if he doesn’t use it much, and a heavy, unknown accent paints his words as he speaks. the white scales on his face gleam in the sunlight and you find yourself slightly intrigued, wanting to reach up and feel them, but stopping yourself from doing so.
the man… or rather, the creature seems gentle enough—if he had planned on biting your head off, he surely would’ve done it by now. you let your guard lower as you sit up a bit, the necklace still clutched tightly between your fingers.
“my name is y/n,” you respond quietly—and the way his face lights up is absolutely blinding, a broad gleam taking over his initially shy smile, his scales twitching in an almost cute way. you watch as his hand drops from his chest, moving into your space to cup the side of your face. your body immediately tenses at the unexpected touch, a noise of surprise leaving your lips.
he leans forward as if to kiss you and a surge of panic courses through your body, cringing away from his hold—but he does no such thing. instead, he rests his forehead against yours, mumbling something in an unrecognizable language as his eyes flutter shut. you’re frozen in slight shock, but the lack of fear in your body confuses you to no end. you should be trying to run away from this strange creature, but instead, you feel… relaxed. a calm washes over you as his skin touches yours, feeling yourself be lulled by the quiet words he speaks to you.
when he pulls away, the grin is still on his face, running his finger down your cheek before moving out of your space. you try not to acknowledge the slight emptiness that fills your chest at the loss of touch, a faint and warm trail lingering from where is finger had traced.
“you took… you took one of m-my shells,” kai speaks with an eager bounce in his tone, gesturing toward your tote where that glimmering white shell still remains. your eyes follow his hand, quickly reaching for your bag to pry it open and search for the shell.
“oh, i’m sorry! i didn’t know it had an… owner…” you trail off as his eyebrows furrow, his lips twitching downwards as you grab the shell out of your bag. “you can have it back if you want…?”
the creature’s eyes comically widen, shaking his head at your words. he pushes your hand back towards you, a small whine emitting from his throat. 
“gift,” he states firmly, nodding towards the shell. you look down at the shell quizzically, everything slowly piecing together in your head bit by bit.
“you… did you leave all of those shells for… me?”
the bright smile quickly returns to the creature’s face as he nods fervently, his scales rippling in excitement. while you finally got answers to the weird phenomenon, you’re still full of bewilderment—what is this creature and why is he giving these gifts to you out of all people? it simply makes no sense.
“for you,” kai confirms, leaning into your space again now that you seem to understand. you catch the way his verdant eyes flicker with an emotion you can’t quite read. 
offering him a genial smile, you gently place the shell back in your bag. “thank you… but… why?”
the creature cocks his head, confusion overtaking his charming features at your question. he turns his head to glance back at the water before meeting your gaze again, pointing in that direction. 
you blink at him a few times, trying to understand what he’s referring to, but nothing comes to mind. seeming to sense your puzzled state, kai reaches into his satchel again—his eyebrows are furrowed with concentration as things clink and clang around in the bag. all you can do is sit and watch as he hums with contentment, pulling out a tiny metal ring before setting it in the sand before you.
you gape at the object, glancing down at the ring and back up to his eyes a few times—because if this is what you think is happening… and if this isn’t a dream… then you’re definitely hallucinating. you aren’t ready to get married! especially not to some strange being who clearly doesn’t know the concept of personal space.
“what is… what is this?” you ask quietly, your voice wavering slightly. kai smiles at you, nodding towards the ring gently.
“for the humans to know y-you are my mate, y/n.”
you blink at him, feeling your breath catch in your throat.
his what?
“i’m sorry… i’m not your… uh, mate. i—i think you’ve gotten me confused with someone else…” you begin slowly as you move to stand and get the fuck out of here; something you should’ve done when he first approached you. kai is quick to shake his head, his vibrant eyes dulling with something melancholic and heavy, reaching out to grab onto your bag so you can’t go.
“i am not confused. you are my mate,” kai speaks desperately, still kneeling down with the ring now slightly buried in the sand. you don’t know what type of creature he is, or what is even going on, but you are certain this doesn’t have anything to do with you. 
you’re a human and he’s a… whatever he is. there’s no such thing as mates. he’s surely one hell of a hallucination. next time, you’ll actually listen to taehyun’s lecture about the side effects of sleep deprivation and too much caffeine intake.
“this is… this is crazy. i have to go,” you respond sharply, ripping your gaze away from his distraught eyes—something in your heart pangs deeply at the pure sadness on his beautiful face, your gut twisting with something sticky and vile.
kai’s fingers hesitantly let go of your bag with a quiet, pained noise, shrinking in on himself as you give him one last glance before quickly heading towards your car. 
when you take a glimpse back to the shore as you begin to pull off, the man is nowhere to be seen—except for a slight glimmer of a white scale disappearing beneath the tide.
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for the next few days, it rains—thick and heavy clouds cover your small seaside town, drenching every bit it can reach. the beach is closed off due to high tides, the waves all too harsh and cutting to be safe for visitors. being cooped up in your apartment is starting to drive you crazy—you already miss the salty smell of the water, the softness of the sand between your fingers…
and the calming touch of the strange creature you encountered.
it’s something horrible in the way that this… thing has been overtaking your mind, tainting your mind with emerald green every passing second. every time you sit down to write a new song, your pen develops a mind of its own; going on about the ocean’s waves, and glittering white scales, and vibrant eyes. it’s like a curse, the way you can only think about kai and nothing else.
after ruminating in your thoughts as the rain continues to nearly flood your town, you’ve come to the conclusion that kai wasn’t a hallucination. that shiny white shell sits nicely on your dresser, right next to the gold necklace you had been so selflessly gifted. 
you try not to let the guilt eat away at you—the creature had been nothing but kind to you, but the uncertainty is too much. what, with the talk about mates, the gifts, and that eerie calmness that overtook your body as he whispered those foreign words to you… it sounds like something straight out of a fairytale. 
it’s late when you settle into bed, your laptop resting in your lap as your phone sits on speaker next to you—they say curiosity killed the cat, but you need answers. sleep be damned.
“so what you’re telling me is that a strange, sexy man with scales on his face gifted you random shells and an old ass necklace before claiming you to be his mate?” taehyun recaps through the phone, voice coated in monotone incredulity. it sounds absolutely ridiculous when he puts it that way, but you’re having a hard time believing it even happened yourself, so you can’t blame him.
“i said a strange, sexy creature, not man.” 
the line is silent for a second.
“y/n… i know you’ve been stressed lately, but don’t you think it’s time to bring these delusions to a licensed professional—”
“taehyun, this isn’t a delusion! it actually happened!” you huff out, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. you try to put yourself in his shoes—if your friend told you they’ve been approached by a majestic creature, you’d also recommend them to get help—but you know what you saw. what you felt.
“that’s exactly how delusions work, sweetheart. we may think things are real, but—”
“hold on, shut up. listen to this,” you click on a link to a news page set in your town, the article dated back to 2007. “two foreign aquatic creatures were spotted near the shore on june 6th, at approximately 3 pm. they are described to be humanoid beings, with scaly, fish-like features.”
“y/n, that’s literally like every fish ever.”
“since when were goldfish considered to be ‘humanoid-beings’,” you quip, actually rolling your eyes this time before you zoom in on the blurry pictures provided on the site. It’s hard to make out in the 480p photo taken from a distance, but there seems to be two people, a male and a female, washed up on shore. they have long, shiny fish-tails that glisten in the way the scales on kai’s face did, their torsos completely human save for the gills on the sides of their neck. 
it’s all too jarring, all too real—and in your mind, right then, it clicks.
“please don’t tell me you think—”
“i think he’s a mermaid, taehyun.”
back when you were young, still the little “droplet” everyone knew, your grandmother would tell you and the other kids in your town stories about how she once fell in love with a mermaid when she was young. they’d met on the same beach you frequent and pursued their love in hiding. she’d go on and on about how he was the most beautiful person, or rather, creature she had ever laid her eyes on. how he was gorgeous and alluring—and the way his green scales sparkled in the sunlight.
you seemed to be the only one to ever believe her stories, even in the slightest. you already loved the sea, and the prospect of mermaids, real-life mermaids, inhabiting the waters you adored so much intrigued you to no end. you would stay at the shore with your grandmother after all the other kids had gone home for dinner, begging her to tell you more stories about this mysterious mermaid who held her heart.
she had said mermaids were forbidden to interact with humans, let alone be with one—but the two of them didn’t care. they had believed their love was too strong for even the wind and sea to tear apart. she spoke of how after the fishing industry became prevalent in their town, she had begun to see him less and less, until one day, he had stopped showing up at all—thus being the dull end of their story.
thinking back on her words now as you stare at the pixelated photo, things slowly begin to come together in your brain. he’s a mermaid. he has to be. there’s no other explanation.
“you’re still stuck on that? you know your grandma once told me a watermelon would grow in my stomach if i ate the seeds? i was scared for years, y/n. years! i don’t know if she’s the most reliable source—”
“this is the only thing that makes sense though,” you mumble as a pair of bright green eyes fill your thoughts.
it’s like something is calling you from deep inside your soul, something anguished and distressed—and it’s calling you back to that beach. you know answers are there. even if this all turns out to be some weird, ongoing delusion, you need to find out the truth—for your own peace of mind. (and maybe taehyun’s as well, seeing as he’s still rambling on about his fear of being pregnant with a watermelon.) 
and in all truthfulness, you want to… need to see those eyes one more time.
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it’s a horrible idea. actually, it’s in your top 10 most stupid y/n moments.
sneaking onto the shore is easy enough. there’s no lifeguards on watch, or any lingering public safety employees as you step onto the sand. only a sliver of it is visible—even your usual spot is covered with water as the waves crash against the shore with untainted vigor. the rain is heavy, grimly pouring from the sky in buckets. your jacket isn’t doing enough to block it from seeping through the fabric, making your clothes cling to your skin uncomfortably. 
honestly, you pitched yourself to be smarter than this–-everything in your body, ever nerve and muscle screams at you to run around and go home. there’s no point in trying to prove something that simply doesn’t exist. they say the human body can only run on so much sleep before you start to feel out of character; and you already feel like you’re outside of your body.
it’s like you’re in a trance, under a spell as your feet keep on walking, your vision completely focused in the darkness of the night as you scan the water for anything. it feels like something inside of your body is calling for someone, the feeling profound and wretched to the point where it makes your heart heavy and raw.
that feeling tugs you like a magnet, past the public part of the beach and to a more vacant, woodsy area where trees and bushes reside, the branches hanging over and dipping into the water, leaves being whipped up by the unforgiving breeze. you’re close—you can feel it, deep inside your soul.
the waves are unrelenting as they tumble over eachother, some shallow ones hitting your ankles and splashing up your legs—and you’re too out of it, too entranced by whatever song is singing inside of your chest to watch where you’re going.
you trip over a rock hidden in the sand, falling over yourself as your already drenched form becomes soaked with ocean water, the harsh waves tumbling over you as you try to sit up. you’ve always been a great swimmer, phenomenal even, but the storm has turned the ocean into something wicked and unlawful, pulling you further and further into the water the more you struggle against it.
you’re tugged into the rip before your brain can process it, having only half the mind to call out for help—but it’s not use. the waves are too loud and the pouring rain drowns out any and every noise in the breeze. it’s too dark to see anything and you can already feel yourself tiring out as you fight to stay afloat. 
the ice cold water does wonders to sober you up from whatever hypnosis you were under and now that your mind is clear, true panic and terror sets deep into your chilled bones. you’re going to die out here, in the hands of something you have loved since you were a child. things really do come full circle, don’t they?
the full moon resting in the condensed sky is the last thing you see before you completely black out.
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you feel it before you even open your eyes. a heavy, burning hand on your back and a heated finger trailing down the slope of your nose. your entire body is warm from head to toe, your cheek cushioned by a soft, cotton-like material. a captivating voice sings a gentle song in words you can’t understand, the volume just under the perpetrator’s breath—the sound is almost completely muted out by the roaring sea outside.
the roaring sea.
you inhale deeply as if you’re searching for air that’s nowhere to be found, sitting up quickly with labored breaths. your eyes automatically lock onto a figure—an all too familiar figure with worried green eyes and luminous scales and soaking wet hair that drips water onto the sand.
kai.
you fling yourself into his arms despite both of your wet clothes. his touch is grounding and comforting as you bury yourself into the crook of his neck, holding onto him tightly. he doesn’t speak as his arms hesitantly wrap around your torso, his hands smoothing down your back in silent consolation. only then do you register the thick sweater that is strewn across your shoulders—it’s the same one he had on that first day you met. 
the thought makes your eyes brim with slight guilt. he has just saved your life, even after you so rudely ran away from him. you want to apologize, but nothing comes out as you finally break away from the embrace. he won’t meet your eyes, and that fact alone makes your heart wrench.
“how did you… how did you know i…?” the words are stuck in your throat as you gape at him, trying to not let your eyes wander down his exposed clavacle where a few more shiny scales reside. kai’s pretty, pretty emeralds are sad—the kind of sad that radiates off a person and spreads to everyone nearby. your gut clenches. he’s quiet for a few beats before his hand moves to his chest.
“i… i can feel it. your fear,” he whispers, his hand resting over his heart as a visual communicator. you don’t know what to say, any words that come to mind die on your tongue just as quickly as they appear. your silence is incredibly loud as kai’s bottom lip trembles, hastily standing to his feet. your eyes follow him as he take a couple steps back, creating distance between the two of you. your body immediately goes cold, feeling a harsh shiver run up your spine, wracking your entire body.
“i am sorry,” kai mumbles solemnly, looking down at the sand below him, his hands folded tightly in front of his body. you’re still shivering despite the sweater draped across your shoulders, staring up at him as you wrap your arms around your body.
“why… why are you sorry?” you inquire, feeling your heart pang at the whine that leaves his throat. he won’t meet your eyes and you already find yourself craving to see those vibrant irises again.
“you r-rejected me as your mate. i must leave you alone now,” kai nearly whispers as he strictly keeps his eyes trained in the sand. he should be cold in his sopping clothes—this heavy wind and pouring rain outside of the small cove is enough to freeze just about anyone—but he seems completely apathetic to the weather. 
an ugly, weighted emotion rips through you at his words, mentally cursing your past self for being so rash about it all. you don’t know the implications of “rejecting” a mate, but with the way kai is weary of stepping any closer to you, you’re sure you’ve done enough damage to last a lifetime.
“kai—i’m sorry about what i said. i’m still confused, but…” you inhale deeply, watching the way his scales sparkle with the reflection of the moonlight on the water. he’s truly gorgeous. “i’m willing to listen if you want to teach me. about what all of this means… about yourself.”
you can physically see the way kai’s breath hitches, his body tensing up as he just barely lifts his head, emerald green peeking through his dark shaggy hair. kai’s eyes meet yours and you feel something akin to relief wash over you. he seems to be waiting for something as his eyes glimmer with hope and hesitancy, so you give him an affable smile, warm and inviting, before patting the spot in front of you.
kai’s scales ripple as his weary demeanor softens, quickly moving to take a seat in the sand. he mirrors your position, pulling his legs up to his chest, your feet almost touching from how close he is to you. your heart stutters a bit as he watches you, his gaze filled with so much infatuation and mesmerization, it fills your stomach with knots. 
“what would you like to know, y/n?”
the way your name rolls off of his lips, sounding oh, so elegant coated in his unnamed accent makes your head spin. his moles are placed perfectly on his unblemished skin like stars at night, his eyes shining like the moon herself. 
“i want to know what you are,” you start, speaking quietly so that only he can hear your words. kai smiles at you, his pearly fangs showing themselves once again. they aren’t so scary now—not with the way his hands are so delicate as they mindlessly draw shapes in the sand or the way his scales ripple once again as enthusiasm overtakes his body. 
“i am a mermaid. the sea is my home.”
the words would have surprised you, had he told you the very first time you two met, but now they simply settle the uneasiness in the pit of your gut. it all makes sense now. the scales, the eyes, the shells, and his fantasy-esque features… he’s a mermaid. 
you inhale deeply to collect your thoughts—the fact that this is all real is too much to take in at once. you look down at your own feet buried in the sand, shivering again at a harsh gust of wind. your heart rate picks up as kai lets out a soft sound, reaching up to adjust the sweater around your shoulders, running his hand down your arm before retracting. the touch that lingers in his fingers’ wake is incredibly warm, feeling it spread throughout your entire body. you want to feel it again.
“i… i thought mermaids aren’t supposed to be seen by humans,” you nearly question as you find his eyes. something sharp flashes through them, as stormy as the night sky above, and you feel your breath catch in your throat.
kai glances away as he thinks for a moment, his pupils shaky as the words strike him. he’s tensed up again and you begin to think you’ve said the wrong thing.
“you don’t have to tell me, kai. i’m just… i’m just glad you’re here with me right now.” your voice is incredibly gentle as you coax him to look at you again, watching the way his shoulders slowly relax at your tone. he doesn’t look at you, though—his eyes stay trained on a random rock, his fingers twitching from where they sit in the sand. he’s quiet for a bit as you two sit in a light silence, the sound of the fierce rain and the rough waves outside filling in the space around you.
it isn’t until he takes a deep breath, those emeralds on his face absolutely glimmering when they meet your eyes. there’s no smile on his face, but his eyebrows are slightly furrowed and his eyes are so incredibly sincere, you feel it pierce through your heart like a sword on fire.
“you are my mate, y/n. i will do anything for you,” kai speaks, closing his eyes for a second. “even if i had to betray m-my coven to find you… my life is for you. nothing else matters.”
his words invoke a deep stirring inside of you—the urge to reach out and caress his face, to hold onto his hand, to feel his skin—it’s untameable. it’s as if a flame is ignited inside of you as he opens his eyes, hearing your heartbeat pound incessantly in your ears, watching the way his scales flicker as they reflect the moonlight. his eyes are entirely dilated as he scans your face, the vibrant green of his irises overtaken by his dark pupils—you feel completely bare despite being fully clothed, vulnerable like a butterfly pinned to a board.
it’s only then does he move, untucking his legs to kneel on one before you—almost an exact replica of the way he had bowed to you the first time you met. he reaches his hand out to you and without a second thought, you take it, letting him pull you both to stand. his fingers are ice cold, but a warmth spreads throughout your body like wildfire, a soft gasp leaving your lips as he tugs you closer. he lifts his other hand to rest on your cheek, his eyes flitting in between yours. 
when he leans in again, you’re ready, your eyes slipping shut as he presses his forehead to yours. you can feel his breath on your lips, the sensation sending tingles down your spine. he’s silent for a moment before he whispers something in that enchanting language of his—even though you can’t understand what he’s saying, his timbre is like a lullaby, filling your head with cotton and stardust.
“i… do you feel it?” kai whispers as his nimble fingers stroke your cheek gently.
he doesn’t elaborate—he doesn’t need to, because you do. you feel the way his touch leaves a burning trail against your skin, the way his eyes pull you in like quicksand, entrancing and bewitching, and the way his voice sounds like music to your ears. you feel it all, and you’re nodding in response before you even realize it, registering the way his hand grips onto yours tighter, his breathing picking up ever so slightly. 
“it does not matter if you are human, y/n. our souls are connected… and mine has not stopped searching for yours.”
you’ve always wondered why you resonated so much with the ocean. sand is a pain to clean out of shoes, the waves can be terribly unforgiving, and the tide even stole your favorite pen once. but nothing can deter the pull you feel toward the sea—or more so, towards what resides in the sea.
your mate.
you don’t have to say anything for kai to know you finally understand, blinking your eyes open as he lifts his head. his eyes are practically glowing as they lock onto yours, his fangs peeking out as he smiles at you, his scales rippling and fluttering animatedly. 
“you are so beautiful,” he speaks through his small gleam. it’s such a cliche, but the way he says it holds so much weight, it squeezes your heart painfully. he says it like you’re a breath of fresh air, as if you’re the most captivating thing he’s ever had the pleasure of seeing with his own eyes.
the heat that crawls up your chest blooms throughout your entire body, wrapping your heart in a cozy blanket as his fingers trail down from your cheek to your jaw, tilting your head up ever so slightly. you don’t move away—and in all honesty, you have no desire to. he’s gentle in the way his hand lets go of yours, finger by finger, before moving to find a home on the small of your back. 
you’re not shivering anymore. his touch is incredibly searing, yet impossibly calming, feeling your mind go dizzy as his eyes search yours for something you aren’t quite saying. it’s almost nerve-wracking, how the suspense builds up in your chest as those emeralds flicker down to your lips, feeling your body grow hot all over. 
“will you allow me to… to k-kiss you?” kai whispers, not even the aggressive waves outside able to drown out his voice in your ears. 
there’s no doubt in your mind as a breathy “yes” slips into the air. 
he’s clumsy with the way his lips find yours, your hand coming up to his chest. his heartbeat under your palm pounds at lightening speed, his body slightly trembling as your lips move against his tranquilly. there seems to be no rush, melting into his embrace with each passing moment.
the press of his fangs against your lips only slightly stings when the tips of them dig in a little too hard, and kai is quick to soothe over the pain with a swipe of his tongue. he tastes of ocean water, a bit salty, but there’s another sweet undertone as well that you can’t quite place your finger on. you don’t linger on it for too long—you don’t want to have to use your brain, so you lose yourself in the feeling of his fingers against your spine, his thumb brushing over your jaw so delicately, you almost want to cry.
his tongue prods against yours as he presses closer to you, as if close is never close enough, as if he wants to sink into your body and become one. your mind is hazy, but you feel safe as his fingers trail down to the side of your neck, leaving fluttery, ticklish sensations in the process. he explores your mouth as if you are a cavern full of gold, mindless to the way small, needy noises leave his lips. it’s overwhelming for the both of you, engulfed in this little bubble you’ve created. 
when he pulls away, it’s slow and reluctant, leaning back in a few more times to get another taste of you, peppering kisses down your jaw and your neck. you can’t help but moan softly at the feeling that stirs in the pit of your gut as he nips and bites and sucks at your skin—completely enamored with you.
he places one final kiss under your ear before his emerald eyes meet yours—you preen at the way he looks at you like you’re the heart of the sea, the ocean herself. it’s too much and not enough at once as you tuck yourself into his broad chest, your heart beating in sync through your dampened clothes. it feels right. this—him. he feels right and now you’re certain he isn’t just a measly dream.
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the sky appears to be unreal, coated with lovely hues of pink and purple, a deep orange settling near the horizon as the sun lowers itself from the sky. it’s still warm out, the tide low as you tip-toe through rocks and shells, feeling your heart fill as tiny hermit crabs take cover in the sand, holding the bottom of your flowy dress up so as to carefully watch your step. the waves wash against the shore with a subdued rhythm and the sky is void of any clouds—the calm after the storm.
your breath catches in your throat as you see the man waiting for you at the end of the shore, his black hair mussed and slightly damp. it seems as if he’s been waiting for a while—he stares off at sea, sitting just a few feet from the tide as his hand mindlessly picks up sand and lets it fall through his fingers.
he’s oh, so gorgeous, even from afar. the white button-up he adorns is rolled up to his elbows, legs covered by brown pants that flow in the wind. his trusty satchel is slung across his frame, seemingly full to the brim as it rests in the sand next to him. a contemplative look resides on his face, his head slightly tilted to the side as his mind wanders. you almost feel guilty for the thought of disturbing this quiet moment. 
but then you’re reminded that he’s waiting here for you—your stomach flutters as he turns his head, those vibrant eyes lightening up at the sight of your figure making its way toward him. he stands to his feet with the brightest smile on his prince-like face, his pretty fangs pressing into his bottom lip in the cute way they always do. 
his scales ripple as he pulls you into the tightest hug you’ve ever experienced, a serene buzz washing over you as he safely holds you to his chest. you register the feeling of him pressing small kisses onto the crown of your head and you giggle a bit at the fluttery sensation. you tilt your head up to meet his eyes; and they never fail to make your head spin, containing so much sincerity that squeezes your heart in all of the best ways. he cups your cheeks, the warmth of his fingers spreading down your neck and blossoming in your soul.
“i missed you,” you speak softly, and you mean it—nothing, no one can compare to the way kai can make you feel so loved and wanted with a singular, simple glance. you dream about his little beauty marks, his wide smile, and those iridescent scales that sparkle when the sun hits them just right. even just a few days without being near him makes your core surge with a deep longing—and now that restless feeling finally dissipates as he leans in to kiss your nose, and then your cheek, and finally your lips.
“i have missed you more,” he mumbles against your lips, his nose brushing yours as he kisses you so delicately, attentive to every little noise that leaves your lips. his hands smooth down your sides, running his fingers over the soft fabric of your dress, coming around to press against the small of your back.
when the kiss breaks, you’re rendered breathless, blinking your eyes open to find him already watching you. the faint smile on his face widens as you reach up to carefully touch the sparkling scales on his cheekbones before running your fingers through his disheveled hair. he leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut with the gentle movement of your fingers. 
“how long have you been waiting?” you question as you finish adjusting his hair, resting your palm against his chest. he hums in thought before he opens his eyes—and you’re in awe at the way the setting sun manages to reflect in them, looking like specks of gold against his irises.
“not long at all. i-i made something for you last evening,” he responds almost shyly. your eyes widen in surprise, watching as he takes a tiny step back to open his satchel. his cheeks are flushed a pinkish-red once he pulls out a handmade crown, woven with dried seaweed, softwood, and the prettiest, eye-catching flowers you’ve ever seen. there are even a few tiny shells tucked in here and there, and they all sparkle the same, twinkling as the sunlight hits them.
“you made this?” your voice comes out airy, in awe at not only the gift, but also the thought of him spending time handmaking something for you. kai nods timidly, looking up at you through his eyelashes. your heart threatens to explode as he gestures toward your body.
“m-may i put it on y-you?” he asks, a slight nervousness coating his voice and you’re quick to nod, bowing your head a bit to give him better access. a quiet, enthused noise escapes his lips before he can contain it, stepping close to you again. he adjusts your hair ever so slightly before situating the crown on your head. you can’t see yourself, but you’re sure it looks amazing by the way kai’s scales flutter, his gleam almost blinding as he moves back to admire his work. the crown is light and a few of the flowers tickle the side of your face. you feel beautiful.
“you know you don’t have to keep gifting me things, right?” you softly chide with a little chuckle, but kai’s bright smile falters at your words, cocking his head in confusion with a little whine.
“do you not… do you not like m-my gifts for you?” kai’s voice slightly trembles and you’re quick to backtrack, grabbing onto his hands with both of yours.
“no, no, no, kai–-i love your gifts. it’s just… isn’t the courting stage over? you know i’m yours, right?”
kai’s eyes sparkle with admiration as you speak, letting go of your hands to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you close to his body. he’s warmer than he usually is, and you suspect it has something to do with the humid air around you—the storm has long since passed, the shore drying up quickly, leaving only fluffy sand and a quiet, sedated ocean in its wake. 
it’s a reflex now, to close your eyes as he gently rests his forehead against yours, a faint, contented hum sounding from the mermaid.
“you still deserve the entire sea and all of the stars, my beautiful mate.”
it’s horrible, the way your entire body tingles, feeling your face heat up from his words. it should be sappy and sickeningly sweet, but his voice brings you nothing but peace, letting yourself melt into his embrace as he subtly sways you both to the rhythm of the waves.
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metize · 1 year
Text
Mate (AFAB!Dragonborn x Farkas
Rating: Explicit
Additional Tags: PWP, In Heat/Mating Cycles, Werewolf Mates, Companions Questline, PIV
Summary:
You were already pent up as it was, but seeing Farkas in nothing but his breeches almost sent you in a frenzy. As you walked into the room, it took everything in you not to bury your face on his pillow, instead you tried arranging his bed while he closed the door to his bed. You could almost see the gears turning inside Farkas’ head, you gathered he was probably smelling your pheromones and trying to understand why you were there. You tried not to stare at his bare chest and how good it would feel to run your hands through his abdomen. “I… I thought I had more time to prepare. Aela told me this would happen, but I…” You sighed, fidgeting with his pillows as you tried to adjust the bedding.
“Are you… nesting on my bed?”
You dropped his pillow. Right, that was what you were doing.
A/N: I didn't find A SINGLE Heat Fic pwp with Farkas. They're werewolves! That's the whole point of being a werewolf: feral sex. Anyways, hope you enjoy it.
Jorrvaskr was asleep. The night had draped its serene embrace over Whiterun, as the weary warriors found solace within their familiar haven. Farkas himself was deep in the realm of dreams, enjoying the peace of his unassuming chamber. Yet, the tranquility was abruptly shattered by a sudden and insistent pounding on his bedroom door. Startled from his slumber, Farkas jolted awake, heart racing in surprise with the sound of pounding on his bedroom’s door.
He was ready to assume the worst, a strategy that worked just fine for Farkas over the years; strike first, think later. He grabbed the greatsword at the end of his bed and readied his stance until he heard your voice from behind the door.
“Farkas, are you up?" Your voice was breathy, a hint of urgency in your tone.
He put his guard down, it was just you, the dragonborn. He respected and greatly admired you as his shield-sister, appreciating your company whenever you came back from your adventures. He trusted you with his life. He stored his sword away before opening the door.
Sure enough he was met to the sight of you as he opened the door. He was always happy to see you, almost forgetting for a second it was the middle of the night and you woke him up because you probably needed something. You weren’t wearing your full armor, instead you sported a more casual outfit that you used to sleep in, the sight was welcome to Farkas. Seeing you in a more vulnerable position was different, he was much more used seeing you armored from head to toe. It brought back memories from the first time you arrived in Jorrvaskr, full of questions, wanderlust and with a very unusual story to tell. Vulnerable in your nightclothes, yes, maybe that was why he was feeling a sudden overprotective urge.
“Shield-sister, it’s late. Did something happen?” He asked, his eyes darting around the hallway to check for any danger. That was when it hit him. The scent.
Your scent.
Farkas and the other Companions had a very strong sense of smell, it was normal for Farkas to recognize someone solely by their scent, but this wasn’t just your usual scent, this was stronger. Sweeter. And way more distracting.
“Close the door, I don't want to wake the others,” you said, making your way past him and sitting on his bed. You were already pent up as it was, but seeing Farkas in nothing but his breeches almost sent you in a frenzy. As you walked into the room, it took everything in you not to bury your face on his pillow, instead you tried arranging his bed while he closed the door to his bed. You could almost see the gears turning inside Farkas’ head, you gathered he was probably smelling your pheromones and trying to understand why you were there. You tried not to stare at his bare chest and how good it would feel to run your hands through his abdomen. “I… I thought I had more time to prepare. Aela told me this would happen, but I…” You sighed, fidgeting with his pillows as you tried to adjust the bedding.
“Are you… nesting on my bed?”
You dropped his pillow. Right, that was what you were doing. You blushed hard, caught off guard. This was your first heat, Aela had warned you about heats and how they worked after you had been turned. You had simply completely forgotten. You couldn’t be blamed, you had a lot to do as Dragonborn and your first heat was supposed to happen later, you were sure you had more time to prepare. You were always planning on talking to Farkas about it.
“I… guess I am,” you admit defeated “Farkas, I’m… going into heat.”
“Then you really,” his breath hitched, a low growl in his voice “really, shouldn’t be in here.” His hand gripped the door handle to ground himself, his knuckles turning white with the strength of his grip.
“I’m here for a reason, Farkas,” you said solemnly, you got up and walked towards him. He shot you a glare.
“Don’t come any closer,” his voice was raspy and his commanding tone made you stop in your tracks. “I don’t know how much longer I can control myself with you in this state.” His breath was labored and his gaze was intense.
“Farkas I don’t want you to control yourself,” you looked at him through half-lidded eyes, regaining courage to walk closer and reach for his hand. “I want you to help me…”
As soon as your fingers touched his hand it sent a spark of electricity through you’ve been hit by a Chain Lightning spell. You didn’t even get to hold his hand, he grabbed your wrist and pulled your body flush against his. He leaned down burying his nose in the crook of your neck, taking in as much of your scent as he could. You couldn’t help but sigh in relief at his proximity, at the sheer intimacy. You grabbed onto him like a lifeline, your instincts slowly taking over your mind, the wolf inside you screaming for more.
“Please… Farkas…” You muttered under your breath.
Farkas pulled you up by your thighs and you wrapped your arms around his neck. He dropped you on the bed, oddly enough the little organizing you managed to do added so much to your comfort level. Farkas was on top of you, his mouth was hungry for yours and you were all too happy to oblige, you kissed him back, running your fingers through his long hair.
“I don’t know if I can be gentle,” he admitted through gritted teeth, his hands undoing your blouse and groping your breasts.
“You don’t have to be…” You reassured him, his mouth was on your neck now marking you with his teeth as he pinched your nipples. You moaned in pleasure but with a hint of impatience, you squirmed under him pushing your hips up to feel some friction. “Please, please, I need you inside.”
He grunted before gripping your waist and forcing your hips down.
“It’s your first heat. I don’t wish to hurt you.” “I can take it, Farkas, please, my mate, I need you, need your cock,” you begged, your instincts completely overwhelming you with need. Farkas froze at your words before eagerly undressing the both of you in a rush.
You whined each time his hands left your skin, you felt feverish and aching with need. You were already soaked when Farkas pressed the tip of his cock against your entrance, he looked down at you, his eyes dark with lust. You didn’t trust your voice to beg him again, so you tried to give him a pleading look hoping to get him to have mercy on you and give you what you were craving.
A broken moan left your mouth as he entered you with his length, Farkas seemed to be losing control, as you hoped, his patience and kindness giving place to his feral instincts to take and breed. He was fully in, save for his knot, when he started moving his hips fast and deep.
Your whines and moans were loud, you couldn’t help it, his tip was hitting deep into you and your body programmed itself to feel nothing but pleasure at this time. Your mind was completely gone, solely focusing on Farkas’ cock slamming into you with force and speed.
“Mine, mine, mine…” Farkas kept repeating and his words only brought you closer to climax, giving yourself completely to your mate to be owned and used to his content was embarrassingly arousing. “My mate… You look so beautiful, so needy for me, for my knot, you want me to stuff you full, hm?” You nodded rapidly, trying to let him know how eager you were without depending on your words, since you weren’t sure you could even string a sentence together. But that wasn’t enough for him, he pulled at your hair and growled into your ear. “Say it, say what you want.”
You whined, the sting in your scalp only fueling your pleasure, you looked up at him with an imploring look. “Farkas please, I want y-you to breed me please…”
He grunted, his pace steady as he looked into your eyes. “Do you? Then why did you wait so long to seek me?” He punctuated his phrases with deeper thrusts, making you cry out as he hit your deepest and sweetest spot. “Why parade around Jorrvaskr smelling this sweet and ripe for the taking? Were you hoping just any Companion would take you out in the hallway?” His voice was aggressive, possessive and it turned you on so much. “Skjor? My brother?”
You shook your head. “N-Never! Just you, I’m yours Farkas… Please!”
“Cum for me.” He growled and picked up the pace. You do. You saw stars when he reached deep inside you, the warmth of his body against yours and his teeth biting down your neck. Farkas wasn’t too far behind himself, his pace getting erratic and you could feel yourself yearn for his knot. “I’ll cum deep inside of you, my mate. Is that what you want?”
“Please… I need it, please, please…” You begged pulling him into another kiss.
His mouth devoured yours as he pounded you into the mattress, his own beast ordering him to breed you, to take you, to claim you. He thrust one last time into you, his knot plopping into you, locking you together as he buried his seed deep inside your pussy. He moaned against your ear, tugging your hair as you felt his breath on your skin.
You held each other for a second, catching your breath and letting the afterglow warm your heart. Farkas placed a kiss on your forehead and stroked your hair.
“I’ll take care of you, however many times you may need it, my mate,” he said, voice low and earnest. You hummed contently and nodded.
“Can we go once more?” You said and he chuckled.
“However many times you need it.” He repeated.
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adobe-outdesign · 10 months
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Thoughts on the Aisha? It’s been my favorite neopet ever since I got a mcdonalds plushie of it when I was like 8 before I even knew what neopets was
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Aisha are great because they're almost somewhat normal cat-like creatures—except they have two pairs of ears, one normal set and one set sticking up like antennae. These ears are the most important part of their design, as they're both visually distinct and very memorable.
Aishas also vaguely implied to have some degree of extra-terrestrial origins due to the existence of alien Aishas, which is a nice bit of worldbuilding and helps explain the weird ears even more (not that they're that unusual by Neopet standards, but still, it's neat).
In addition to the four ears, the other main notable thing about Aishas is their near-constant closed eyes (though some Aisha characters do have theirs open), which are punctuated by a ring around the outside. The ring is nice, as it helps break up their otherwise solid body colors a bit.
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I'd also argue that Aishas benefited greatly from customization. First, their old artwork was getting very dated and needed a refresh anyways, and secondly, the only real change is that they're standing now, which doesn't really affect anything.
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But the other big benefit the Aisha received is that their collars became a wearable item that can now be removed. I'm not going to lie, I never liked the collars. First, they're weird because in-universe, Neopets are anthropomorphic, and indeed, no Aisha characters sport the collars. Secondly, as a species, where do those collars come from, and why do Aishas wear them? And thirdly, they tend to add unnecessary color to their designs (like how the blue and green Aishas shown above sport red and yellow collars—though this varies depending on paint job). The "A" tag also feels clunky. They're not the worst, but having the choice to remove the collars or keep them is the best of both worlds.
The only big benefit to the collars is that they do sometimes do some really fun things with them depending on the color, as I've spotlighted below.
Favorite colours:
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Alien: No Aisha review would be complete with talking about alien Aishas, which are absolutely iconic in their own right. Species-specific colors are always enjoyable, and the fact that the alien Aishas have SIX ears is fantastic. I also like the spacesuit/helmet combo, and the red triangle at least accents the red color a bit if you choose to keep it on. I just wish they had done something fun and futuristic with the collar, instead of sticking to the standard version.
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Darigan: The converted version of this pet isn't terrible, but the unconverted version is fantastic. The thin body looks great, almost snake-like, and the pointed tail matches the tall ears, which are given a delightful devil-horn look. The spots help break up the body a bit, as does the addition of an underbelly, and the collar changes shape to a D for darigan, which is fun.
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Mutant: Mutant Aishas, my beloved! What a great design. Replacing the second pair of ears with mouths and then accenting the pink lips with floppy, tongue-like spikes on the back is just great, with the pink working great against the blue. Bonus shoutout for the singular eye and the mutated "A" on the collar. My only nitpick is that the collar tag should've been the lighter teal of the stripes on the ears, and the band should've been pink.
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BONUS: I'm cheating by including this, but I have to give a shout-out to the baby Aisha for being downright adorable with its little binky collar and soft blue color. I'm not usually big on baby pets, but this one's actually pretty great.
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