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homelanderbutbig · 1 month

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Sympathy For The Dead (G/T Homelander x Reader)

2145 words. Angst, and a bit of hurt/comfort. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.

You are forced to come to terms with Homelander's violent tendencies when he murders someone for flirting with you. Inspired by an ask from @adryrivera.

It's early in the morning on the set of 'In Depth With Maria Menounos'. Homelander has an interview scheduled today, and you are accompanying him as his personal assistant. This is the first time you've had this opportunity to come along to one of his functions outside of the Tower, and you're pretty excited. Being on a television production is an entirely different world compared to the mundane office work at Vought, and you're enjoying it even if you're just watching on the sidelines.

When it's time for Homelander to go on-air, you're standing back by the rest of the crew so you can witness your favourite supe work his magic. You smile as he switches on that acting charm when the cameras start rolling, so easily bringing all eyes on him with the suave nature he's perfected over the years. He's such a sight to behold when he's in the spotlight, showcasing that electrifying personality that's as big as he is.

"Don't remember seeing you around here before," a voice suddenly says from behind you. It happens to be one of the cameramen, grinning as he checks you out.

"Oh, yes, I'm Homelander's assistant. Nice to meet you," you politely respond, tucking your clipboard under one arm to shake his hand.

"A supe's assistant huh? That must be an interesting job," he comments, still smirking.

"It's never a dull moment," you laugh, thinking to yourself that he doesn't know the half of it.

"So… you uh, you doing anything later?" he asks, resting his elbow on top of the camera. You're taken aback by his words. Is he… is he asking you out?

"I-I'm sorry, I'm seeing someone," you disclose, perhaps a bit more curtly than you hoped. But all you can think of when hearing that is how pissed Homelander would be at this poor guy.

"Oh, sorry! I didn't realize," he blushes, quickly getting embarrassed by how spectacularly he's struck out.

"Don't worry about it, it's not a problem," you giggle. You can't fault a guy for trying. "Let's just get back to our jobs and forget this happened?"

You're glad he doesn't seem to have taken offense as he nods, letting out a flustered laugh. He returns to operating the camera, and you back to focusing on your clipboard full of the day's scheduling. At least you successfully brushed this situation off, with no harm done.

However, you don't notice Homelander's reaction as he observes this from the midst of his interview.

~~~

After the talk show is done filming, you get caught up talking to Ashley and lose track of time. She's yapping on about Homelander's points and how well this interview went, just more work talk that you could care less about. When you eventually manage to break free, you notice that Homelander is nowhere to be found, having already left the set. But you doubt that he'd leave the building without you so you start your search, happy to tell him how proud you are of his interview.

But you weren't expecting what you find in the downstairs hallway.

You figured he just made a quick getaway because he's always mentioned how much he loathes these mind-numbing talk shows. But instead, you discover his true intentions.

He was following the cameraman.

He kept his pace fast but light, allowing him to go undetected to the man's pathetic human ears. And when he had him isolated in the hallway, he wasted no time letting this worthless, primitive vermin pay for daring to make an advance on you. He lasered a hole straight through his crotch, causing the man to collapse on the ground in agony. He reveled in the look of absolute terror as this worm realized his fate was sealed. He then painstakingly applied pressure to his head, savouring the satisfying crunch of his bones until it was crushed under the supe's boot, leaving nothing but an indistinguishable mess of blood and gore.

You are rooted to the floor, petrified at the sight of what he's done. His head snaps towards you, face twisted with rage and eyes still shining a bright crimson as they stare directly into your soul.

"Come here," you growls at you, raising his hand to signal for you to approach him. He knows you are afraid; he can hear your heart's pace quickening and smell the cortisol levels in your blood spiking. In his mind, he believes you will come to your senses and realize this decision was for the best. You will understand he did this to save you. You are his. You will listen to him. You will obey.

But you don't listen. You only freeze for a second before you turn around and flee. The last thing you hear as you run out of the building is Homelander roaring your name.

~~~

You spend the rest of the day aimlessly traversing the city, paying no attention to where you are going. You needed time alone before you return back to the Tower, before you face Homelander.

It still feels so fresh in your mind. One moment you were chatting with this man, and the next his life is over. In a flash, a human life is snuffed out. Someone with a family, with hopes and dreams. All for what, because he made the fatal error of asking you out on a date?

And the worst sight of all, was the expression on Homelander's face. There was no remorse, no tinge of regret for seeing how you reacted. It was just pure hatred for this man, an absolute stranger. You can't help but wonder how many people he's killed without you knowing.

Finally, the sun begins to set along the city skyline. Night is approaching, and you know you can't simmer on this any longer. You need to confront him, you need answers. Gathering yourself, you catch a taxi back to Vought Tower, and begin your ascent to the penthouse.

With a shaky breath, you step off the elevator once it reaches the top floor and walk briskly inside. However, not in a million years were you expecting what you see in the penthouse. Your lengthy absence clearly took a stronger toll on him than you ever anticipated… he's destroyed the living room. The large American flag tapestry is torn to shreds, adorned with scorch marks from a now extinguished fire. Every single marble statue is cut clean from his laser eyes and smashed to pieces, the gray rubble scattered across the floor. Not even his immaculate leather couch was spared, having been ripped in half by two inhumanly strong hands.

And lastly, in the middle of the chaos, silently sits Homelander on the floor. He's leaning up against the wall, his arms wrapped around his bent-up knees. His face is flushed, eyes bloodshot and puffy from what you can only imagine was a waterfall of tears. Right now he looks like a child trying to huddle himself into a ball because he knows he's in trouble. Yet, you can't help but notice the bloody viscera of the cameraman still coating his boot.

"Why are you here?" he utters abruptly, snapping you back to reality after being overcome by the state of the penthouse. Despite his sad demeanor, his words are blunt and laced with deflection. When you don't answer him, he exhales loudly through his nose. "Why did you come back if you hate me?"

"I don't hate you Homelander," you retort, not taking his bait. You're not sure if that was the answer he was expecting as you watch him tense his jaw.

"Are you mad at me?" he questions you further. You aren't certain if he's fishing for a reason for you to comfort him, or so he can kill you too.

"No. I'm not angry at you," you reply. "But I am disappointed and upset at what you did."

He swallows hard at that, feeling the tears once again well up in his eyes. Disappointed.

"H-he was dangerous… I d-did it to protect you," he mumbles hoarsely. Your unimpressed glower signals to him that you aren't buying his excuses. He knows you aren't going to forgive him, and that's enough to make him hyperventilate. He lowers his head down into his arms, unable to stop himself from crying again. Unable to stop his thoughts from convincing himself that this is how your relationship is going to end.

With a deep sigh, you cross your arms and shake your head at his behaviour. These tears aren't out of sympathy for the dead. You know for a fact that he has no guilt over murdering the cameraman, he's only regretful because he's displeased you.

But the longer you stare at him sobbing so pathetically, the more you start to realize something. You're not looking at the same supe that killed the cameraman; this is Homelander's inner child. This is the boy who was tortured and withheld from love, that had this violence forcibly bred into him. His power over humans was all he had, and now it's so ingrained into his psyche that he cannot stop it from rearing its ugly head.

When he killed the cameraman, he was no longer a man but a dog. He presented his carcass to you as a present, to show you his love in a way you could never comprehend. His love is something feral, that scares everyone else away when it bares its fangs. Yet it has no bite, when deep down his love is never reciprocated, but feared when it becomes too much for the object of his affections to handle.

And as much as it pains you, you know you are going to have to accept this part of him. Because you are the only one who's tamed this dog, and seen the sweet puppy it becomes with just a little compassion.

Methodically, you walk over beside him and place a hand on his arm. Right now with him sitting on the ground you're standing about a foot higher, getting a vantage point you don't experience very often. Hesitantly, he tilts his head up at you. His blue eyes are teeming with apprehension, with the longing for your forgiveness of his actions… even if deep down he knows he doesn't deserve it.

"Hun, I would never let someone else come between us," you soothe him, lifting your hand up from his arm to lightly caress his cheek, saturated with his tears. The second he feels your soft fingers his tension begins to melt away, moving his head up and down to desperately facilitate a pet.

Slowly, Homelander opens up his posture, to allows you to come in between his legs and up to his face. He delicately rests his hands on your waist, waiting for permission to hug you. He can't just take what he wants, not now. He can't bear to make you this unhappy at him ever again.

"And you know what? If I saw somebody flirting with you, I'd get jealous too," you remark, your hands still cupping his face. "But I'm not going to stew on my jealousy until I feel the only solution is violence. I'm going to get those emotions out by talking to you. Because I love you, and I care about you more than anything else."

You steadily come closer to him, spreading your arms across his shoulders to finally give him the hug he's been longing for all day. He wastes no time enveloping you in his hold, burying you in his massive arms as he rests his head in the crook of your neck. Your fingers scratch at the back of his undercut, bringing this dog down to your heels in an instant. Any semblance of rage he may have had earlier in the day has now evaporated into the ether, leaving nothing but the desire for obedience.

"The next time you start to feel yourself getting worked up… wherever you are, can you come find me? Can that be something we work on together?" you ask. His brief nod against your shoulder is enough of an answer, you know he would never lie. And besides, the two of you don't need to say anything else right now. All that's left for today is to let this moment fade into sleep, and let tomorrow be the time to clean up the mess.

While sinking into your embrace, Homelander has his own realization. The way he feels about you is different than his past relationships. You are not his 'property' that he is envious of others ogling. You are his treasure, one that sees the good in him despite all of his own horrible faults. One that he feels he must guard with his entire being.

He is going to be better, if not for himself than just for you.

#the boys #the boys tv #homelander #homelander x reader #g/t #size difference #my writing #comparing him to a dog because sehtoast gave me brainworms

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wanderingconstellations · 1 year

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FIRSTLY, HERES A GIFT FOR U

IM HERE ☝️😤

so yes!! battle lust reader! encountering our beloved scara or wandere (you choose!) during an adventure!

reader is basically famous like diluc, absolutely skilled with a spear and hand to hand combat, traversing around sumeru, inazuma, everywhere basically and during a fight against [insert whatever monster reader is up against]

scara/wanderer encounters reader who- was gashed up, injured, struggling to stand, panting heavily and absolutely horny, a secret side of reader only she knows—but ofc scara/wanderer appears

im sure you already know what battle lust means (since childe ofc 🤭)

so being affected with lust and adrenaline, making it sense somehow, reader unknowingly attacks scara/wanderer, it takes awhile to regain reader's senses but once they do, reader was already being fucked relentlessly- because scara had notice her palpating heavy breaths, sweat, flushed face, whimpering, grinning with every strike and hit scara/wanderer lands on her, all during the fight

basically, out of fighting, reader is has a good ass elegant and respected reputation as an adventurer, but scara/wanderer had just- witnessed such a contrast from the infamous adventurer, the reader... 🤭

YOU SEE WHERE IM GOING WITH THIS?1!1?2 I HOPE YOU DOOOO (im kinda hesitant to be very detailed in asks since i have no clue if you like heavy details or not 🥹) ILY I HOPE WE CAN INTERACT MOOOREEEEE!!!!

THATS SOOOOO HOTTTTT 🫣

You were famous, known for your elegant skills and traversing to nation to nation. Though, you had a certain enemy that resides in Snezhnaya, one that you loathe. You never ever want to meet him.

While fighting, you ended up losing all senses to yourself. You were gashed, injured, and panting heavily. You were in a state of battlelust and while wandering through out the trees and greenery, you came across Scaramouche, the sixth of the Fatui harbingers. He notices your state for moment before you attacked him out of no where.

Luckily for him, he was able to dodge your attack. He scoffed and threw and insult at you, apparently wondering why the hell are you attacking him out of now where.

"Tch, what the hell are you trying to do?!"

Despite his insults you attack again, a grin was on your lips. This was out of character for the oh so elegant and well respected adventurer. You continued to attack him until he finally successfully attack you, ending up with you landing on the ground and him hovering on top of you.

You gasped. A lustful look on your face, you grinned, getting up once more and kicking him off his feet. You both continued this for who knows how long. You were in a state of battlelust, and it was visible on your face.

"It's pathetic on how much of a masochist you are. What would you do if everyone knew about the so elegant and well respected adventurer who was actually a freak in sheets?"

That was what you heard when you finally came back to your senses. Damn right, before you were getting fucked, Scara noticed how you whimpered and your flushed face whenever he landed a hit on you. He was weirded out at first but it somehow amused him of how you were still smiling despite your injuries.

Currently right now, you were gasping and whimpering at the feeling of his cock penetrating you.

"Ohh wow, finally back to your senses now huh? Well too bad, I was only getting started with you."

A cocky smirk was tugging on his lips, his hands on your bare hips were starting to hurt. Your breasts were out on full display, bouncing with every thrust Scara did. Your legs were hooked over his shoulders, you were in mating press and damn right, it felt amazing.

Your battlelust was whole different person from you, and he absolutely adored that lust you had in battle, that would give him a reason why to fuck you so senselessly like this, or maybe not but he doesn't give a single fuck. Your panting and whimpering look was already enough for him to know that you were enjoying on what he was doing.

"Ahh..I knew it, you wanted me just as bad as I do don't you? Don't deny it, your body here just wants me so much that it's clenching on me so tight, it's unbelievable.."

He was right, your cunt was squeezing his cock so nicely, taking him in greedily and milking him out. His fingers pinch your nipples, making you squeal and whine. Scara would be so mean, bruising your hips, pinching your nipples until it hurts, degrading and humiliating you, but it's not like you were complaining anyway.

"Who knew that the famous adventurer was such a cock hungry slut? Clenching and squeezing onto this cock like it's their last..Ohh..I wonder what would happen if people found out, would you runaway and come back to me just to get your brains fucked out? Don't be ashamed, it's okay. I don't blame you for wanting my cock this badly, you're my cock hungry slut afterall."

Him and his arrogant personality made you want to punch him, but what can you do? After all, his cock was hitting your sweet spot so nicely that you were spasming around his cock already, cumming and coating his length in your juices. He was taunting you, teasing and humiliating you, shaming you for being such a slut for his cock.

Your eyes were glistening in tears, cheeks flushed and nails clawing at his back. Your clothes were either on the ground or teared apart. Your tits were on display for him, bouncing with every deep thrust he made.

Scara gave a zap to your clit, making you shiver in pleasure as his fingers continuing to rub your nipples and fondle with them, his other fingers down on your clit and occasionally giving zaps to your sensitive nub, making you squirt on all over his abdomen.

"So dirty, squirting all over my cock like a filthy whore."

He scoffed, continuing to pump his cock into your drenched and abused hole. You were a complete drooling and babbling mess, quivering and overstimulated by how many times you came.

It was so good, so so good, your pussy was heavenly to Scaramouche. You were so dumbed out by his cock that you lost count of how many times you even came because of his cock and ministrations. The only thing in your head was him, one that you call your enemy, Scaramouche.

#genshin imagines #genshin impact x you #smut brainrot #genshin impact scenarios #genshin smut #genshin impact #scaramouche x you #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #genshin scara #scara smut #scara x reader #genshin impact x female reader #fem reader

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violetpixiedust · 1 year

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part 02 of this angsty piece. thank u sm for the support on the last part, i love u all. there will be one more part after this. steve harrington x sinclair!reader. no descriptions of hair, skin tone, or body type. up to interpretation. tw: slut shaming, public bullying, mean!steve.

part 01

౨ৎ

one day earlier

your nimble fingertips brush against the soft, polyester material of your little black dress, hugging each curve and ridge of your body up until the bottom of your bum. translucent nylons lick up the length of your legs, disappearing into a pair of onyx leather boots that cut off just beneath your knees. a wave of heat washes over your delicate face as you admire your reflection in the floor length mirror of your bedroom, the top row of your pearly teeth indenting against the plush flesh of your bottom lip.

you looked.. sultry.

huh, robin had been right.

the two of you had been finishing up the last bits of your partnered english essay on ‘the catcher in the rye’ the night before, when robin, in her nature, became distracted and started languidly recounting an outfit debbie harry had worn on tour in the ‘70s. the cerulean eyed girl had pulled the cosmopolitan magazine out of her backpack, laying stomach down beside you on the bed as you both stared at the hydrogen peroxide blonde rockstar in front of you. you shyly admitted that you had always wanted to dress like that just once.

it was no secret to the students at hawkins high that you were a sweetheart, a goody two-shoes. you would usually dress in gingham, floral, and lacy babydoll dresses in the summer, or bulky turtlenecks with short skirts and stockings in the wintertime. it’s what drew steve to you originally. your shy smile and innocent doe eyes, waving to him past his car windshield as your silky skin soaked up the summer sunlight, on your way to the flower shop across from the hawkins theatre, sat on top of your two speed yellow bicycle. it threw him for a loop. how much you had bloomed the summer before your junior year. however, your beauty was surprisingly paired with a quick wit and an unmatched sense of creativity. lucas and erica had clearly picked it up from somewhere.

so, after doing some recon on an old, black turtleneck dress that you had worn to a distant family member’s funeral years ago, robin and yourself had successfully designed a little black dress that perfectly melded debbie harry and pat cleveland into one.

you had to be discreet though. your mother, despite being the feminist powerhouse that she was, did not want to have to leave work to give you a change of clothes on the off chance that you were dress coded, which granted- had only happened once. however, despite kindly giving you the snide choice of a sheer cover up to wear when she arrived to that singular meeting, your mother had grilled the geriatric worm that was principal higgens into the scuffed tile of his office floor. at his audacity for making her leave her government job in the middle of the day- all because her fifteen year old daughter, she emphasized for the misogynistic, and terrified, man in front of her, was rightfully showing her shoulders in may.

so safe to say, the spineless principal did not want a repeat of that situation, so while your fashion choices hadn’t changed much, a lot less was said about it.

your mother was dressed in a red plaid pantsuit early that next morning before her shift at city hall, hair big and proud, in the middle of making a cup of coffee before she caught sight of you entering the kitchen. “wow, look at that paint and hair, pretty girl. how gorgeous.” a wave of appreciative embarrassment crept between the hems of your woollen overcoat as the elder woman kissed the crown of your head, smiling shyly as you gratefully accepted a cup of black tea from her manicured hands.

“so, is steve picking you up-?” your mother was cut off when the back door parallel to you two practically flew open, robin’s cheeks flushed with cherry red from the winter air as she dug into her backpack, not noticing your mother or her metal thermos of presumably coffee clanging onto the kitchen tile when it free fell from her bag. finally, your friend victoriously pulled out a half squished piece of banana bread wrapped in cellophane.

“aha! there you are. what’s up this morning-?” robin froze as she caught sight of your mother smirking from her place in front of the coffee machine, watching as the pale girl practically scrambled to pick her thermos up off the floor to avoid causing a bigger mess.

“good morning, robin.” your mother smirked from behind her cup of coffee, plum shaded lips spreading into an amused smile as you giggled at robin’s scarlet complexion.

“m-morning. sorry for the noise mrs. s.” the freckled girl winced in embarrassment at her absent-mindedness, only softening her tense expression when your mother held out of plate of toast, quietly offering her a piece.

“oh, robin. if i was concerned about noise, i would have sent lucas and erica to live with their grandmother a long time ago.” the three of you burst into giggles as one of the devils mentioned strutted into the kitchen, pink denim jeans swishing with every step she took.

“what choice words about your only daughter-“ erica shook her head in disappointment as she reached up onto her tippy toes for a piece of toast, nearly taking a bite before begrudgingly making her way to grab a plate due to the gentle warning glare she received from your mother.

“hey! i was here before you, you little brat-“

“sue me for thinking you were going to college in a year and a half. maybe i’ll stick with ‘your better daughter’-”

“mom! erica hid my walkie!” lucas entered the kitchen with a trail of fire lined after him, interrupting your snide remark back to erica. you and robin groaned with relief as the horn from barb’s mom’s old mini van sounded in front of the house, interrupting the argument for a second before it resumed in full force.

“barb’s picking us up.” you mentioned to your mother, answering her previous question as she half nodded to you in acknowledgment, attempting to break up the ever scaling argument between your younger siblings. “good luck.” you bid her an apologetic goodbye, your mother only huffing as she wished both you and robin a good day.

you were on cloud nine as you walked around the halls at school that morning. it was nearly fourth period, and you hadn’t seen steve in the halls yet unfortunately, but his absence only put a slight damper on your mood. you had gotten so many compliments from the girls in your class and above. nancy wheeler, barb, robin (even though she had practically designed the outfit with you, she had basically screeched in the middle of the arts hall when you finally put your jacket in your locker), chrissy cunningham, tammy thompson, and even anna jacobi!

in the fifteen minute break between third and fourth period, you were taking your time exchanging your calculus textbook out for your history text, knowing that your next class was only down the hall and to the left. however, you felt a large, calloused hand touch the exposed skin between your shoulder blades, jumping as you quickly turned around, nervously gaining the courage to tell off whoever was unrightfully touching you, before you made eye contact with steve.

instantly, you felt a soft beacon of light spread throughout your belly, heart fluttering as you took in the soft chestnut locks that curled beneath the nape of his neck, balancing against the laws of physics atop his head. almond toned eyes, his rigid nose, primrose shaded lips. a breathtaking smile spread across your glossy pout as you giggled excitedly, going in to hug your boyfriend before his unusually stoic face hardened when his eyes raked across your outfit. your outstretched arms slowly fell to your sides as your glittery smile faded, suddenly concerned at the way steve chuckled humorously, his bass tone careless and sinister.

unlike him. with you especially.

you nervously toed your boots into the ground as your manicured nails started fiddling with one another on their own accord, shrinking as he continued to stare you down.

“now i know why billy hargrove asked me if you were free use earlier this morning.” you swallowed harshly, not believing that those words had just come out of your boyfriend’s mouth until you heard the acidic cackles of tommy and carol behind you two. steve however, was not amused. “what in the hell were you thinking when you decided to wear this?” his voice only got louder, catching the attention of a few students passing in the hallways. you fought back the bitter response that was fighting it’s way out of your throat, instead whispering honestly.

“i thought you would have liked it-“

“you thought i would have liked you looking like the freaks groupie?” suddenly, a few band kids instruments stopped their cacophony of tuning and practicing at steve’s semi-booming remark, a few other members of the student body stopping to watch as they caught wind of his comment, both cautiously and minorly entertained.

you felt your doe eyes burn with oncoming tears at steve’s remarks, humiliation running deep throughout your veins as you suddenly felt like you were clad in a cheap halloween costume instead of one of your own designs. your body wrapped your own arms around itself, a self preservation tactic you weren’t aware you were doing until carol laughed.

“you were right steve. she is quite meek, hm?” your glossy eyes whipped up to the boy in front of you for confirmation at the redhead’s poisonous remark, his gaze pointedly wandering away from you as the firm line of his lip wobbled ever so slightly. a reaction so minuscule you would have missed it had you not been searching for any ounce of clarity regarding his behaviour. why suddenly his mean boy persona broke the barriers between you and it.

“you’re being mean, stevie.” you suddenly found your voice, but the soprano tone didn’t sound like it was coming from you, your own trembling voice miles away as you confronted steve. something you hated doing. “i like this outfit, and i don’t appreciate you saying those things-“

“oh, so you think it’s okay that the entire school thinks you’re a slut?” gasps and scoffed out laughs ripped throughout the quickly growing crowd, tommy and carol’s laughter seeming the loudest. your manicured nails dug into the skin of your palms unconsciously, crescent moons slowly pulling blood up to the surface as you tried not to cry.

don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

you coughed on salty held back tears as they dripped down the back of your tense throat, deciding you were going to walk away and go home before you could be humiliated any further. you felt hurt. you felt betrayed. you felt embarrassed. how could steve, the boy who goofily serenaded you with elvis lyrics into the handle of a baseball bat to make you laugh, who snuck into your bedroom window after curfew to cuddle and kiss you senseless because he missed you. who held doors open for you and left cute little smiley faces and your joint initials in a heart on the corners of your homework papers, just to see you smile. how could-?

“jeez steve, you’d think for a frigid little virgin she wouldn’t put out for the whole school.” your jaw dropped as the crowd around you burst into whispers, remarks, and exaggerated reactions, meeting steve’s eyes that were now half filled with regret, attempting to save face as his expression stoned once more, spitting.

“yeah, you’d think.” you missed the way steve’s eyes widened as tears began to slip down your face, leaving trails of gritty mascara in their wake. the elder boy felt his stomach flip upside down once he surveyed the crowd, once he realized how many people had heard that. something he had promised to never tell anyone.

“‘oh stevie, i’m scared it’ll hurt’ ‘i don’t think i’m ready’ ‘could we just kiss a little more?’ too bad for you, there are girls in this town that aren’t afraid of a little pain.” steve felt his breath shorten at carol’s suggestive comment, however it proved hilarious for the crowd around them. he couldn’t register what was going on, why everyone had suddenly crowded around you two, why he had kept going with his verbal assaults, why he had listened to tommy and carol and billy of all people in the first place, and why he had any nerve to confront you about an outfit that made him insecure and jealous when you were clearly happy-

“carol- shut up-“ steve finally found his voice, dominating and rough with an undertone of fear. he didn’t want this. you were his girlfriend for christ sake. what was wrong with him?

carol however shrugged carelessly, smirking as you quickly turned towards your locker to gather your belongings, mind on overdrive. “look at that, it’s even backless.“

“baby-“ steve whispered towards you frantically, catching sight of your bloody palms from where your nails had bit into them. he felt his heart break when you smacked his large hand away as it attempted to soothe you, sniffling as the crowd behind you oohed in amusement. you felt like you were under a microscope. you wanted to disappear.

“oh look. it’s the freak now. i’m sure you won’t have trouble gagging on his dick like you did with steve’s.” your leather bag slipped from your trembling hands at that comment, it’s contents spreading across the floor as the crowd cackled like hyenas. suddenly, the aroma of cigarettes, woodlands, and something akin to laundry soap filled your senses. hesitantly, you turned your watery gaze onto eddie, who was kneeled in front of you as he quickly packed your belongings back into your bag. you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him that he experienced this kind of torment on a daily basis from tommy, carol, and steve, but was still decent enough to help you through it. he was quick as he packed your things you noticed. steady, quiet, careful-

trained almost.

tommy scoffed at the sight in front of him as eddie wordlessly handed you your bag, his large bambi eyes intently asking are you okay? before you could lie and nod, tommy chuckled. “jeez, munson. i guess now you can finally fuck something other than your right hand. i wouldn’t push your luck though-“

in a second, steve pulled tommy against the row of lockers opposite to yours, a deafening crash echoing above the crowd as his calloused hands wrapped themselves within the crisp white collar of the shorter boy’s t-shirt. “don’t ever” steve emphasized with a push of tommy’s body to the metal doors behind him. you felt yourself clam up with nausea at the potent verbal and physical violence around you, “fucking talk to her like that again, hagan-“

the dark haired boy forcefully pushed steve back into the middle of the hallway, the crowd beginning to chant as you watched in horror when tommy threw the first punch. robin fought through the barriers of the crowd immediately once she heard you and carol screech, narrowly dodging the pair of boys rolling along the gritty school floors just past her worn out converse. the freckled girl attempted to figure out what happened as she made her way to your left side, soothingly wiping away your tears as her cerulean gaze went wild. she had left you alone for ten minutes. soon, two of the senior boys on the basketball team were pulling the pair apart from each other, most likely fearing their suspension with the championship game coming up after winter break.

tommy spat a wad of blood from his lip onto the floor as he shot a loathing glare towards steve. carol’s snide expression morphed into concern for her boyfriend as he panted, before her features pinched with a bitter scowl towards the man of the hour. “don’t look so sad, harrington. now you can actually get your dick wet with some other slut. after all, that’s all you really wanted from her, wasn’t it?”

the crowd erupted into quiet whispers as steve’s wide eyes turned to your frail silhouette, now gone slack with disbelief. his king steve persona had shattered at that moment, bloody lip trembling as he crossed the hallway towards you, however you weakly pushed him away from your bubble with your palms to his chest. “i hate you, steve harrington.” it was the first time in ten minutes that the crowd had gone completely silent, watching intently as you spat emotionlessly, basking in a hatred so unlike you it appeared as though you were possessed. with eddie beside you, those rumours would spread like wildfire, no doubt. steve’s expression fell into agony for every second that passed, watching in almost slow motion as you promised. “never speak to me ever again. we’re done.”

robin quickly led you away after that, shaking her head at steve with disgust as she pushed through the dispersing crowd for you. eddie quickly slammed your locker closed, but not without adding fuel to the fire as he huffed. “it didn’t look like it to me, but i hope that was worth it, harrington.”

and steve harrington, was now, above all else, alone.

just like he was destined to be.

#drops this in the middle of your dash and runs away #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x sinclair!reader #steve harrington x black!reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader angst #steve harrington x reader fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader fluff #robin buckley x platonic!reader #asshole!steve harrington #bully!steve harrington #mean!steve harrington #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things angst #pixie’s works * ੈ✩‧₊˚

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puppy-byun · 1 year

Text

Just Friends...unless...? pt. 1

pairing: Hyunjin x Reader / a sprinkle of Seonghwa x Reader

rating: 18+

word count: 8k

genre: smut / friends to lovers / angst / university au

warnings: drinking, curse words, Hyunjin (obv but like... there should be a warning at all times), heavy make-out, fingering, light nipple play, dirty-talk, pet names (just one rlly), public...indecencies don't do this irl, minors pls dni!!

summary: You weren’t crushing on Hyunjin. You couldn’t be crushing on Hyunjin because you were just friends, and there was no way he would ever feel the same way about you. Right? Unless...?

disclaimer: This has only been proof read by myself but hey! I’m back! This is angstier than most stuff I've written before I hope u guys enjoy it!

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There had been a time in your life when you had thought you were in love with Hyunjin. Not infatuation, not attraction, and not an incredibly intense college crush, no, but the kind of star crossed, life changing love that you thought you could never possibly get over. You hadn’t had a clue how right you would be about that.

And Hyunjn? He hadn’t had a clue about anything at all, because Hyunjin was a sweet, but he was just about as oblivious as he was caring.

In all fairness, you hadn’t tried to get him to realize that you were head over heels the first time you realized how fast he made your heart beat. You didn’t think that you would be able to handle the embarrassment of him finding out one of his closest friends had been harboring a crush on him, and even less so the possible follow up of rejection. So instead, you had gone through months of fearing that he would realize you had feelings for him. You had constantly been torn about being grateful he was so clueless and hoping despite better judgment that he would realize, and he would maybe reciprocate those feelings. It had been months until you had finally managed to snub out every last one of them, until you and Hyunjin were just friends.

Regardless of whether you were over those feelings or not, it did not stop your friends from endlessly teasing you about that period in your life. Apparently, you had been extremely obvious - according to them. It was just your luck that Hyunjin wouldn’t even consider his friend being in love with him, so even two years later he had no idea there had ever been a time when you had wished you would make his heart flutter the same way he did with yours.

You couldn’t fully blame your friends for teasing you about your feelings for Hyunjin. Neither could you blame them for not quite believing that those feelings were in the past - not when you were so comfortable with each other, it was easy to mistake you for anything but a couple. But even if that did happen a lot it didn’t bother you and it didn’t seem to bother Hyunjin either – because you were just friends.

You had your hands full with eight guys in your life and you definitely did not need or have time for a boyfriend on top of it, so you didn’t mind guys automatically backing off when they saw Hyunjin and you together. And in the three years you had known Hyunjin he had never seemed too interested in starting a relationship with anyone either.

Admittedly, you had tried not to pay any attention to what he was doing when you weren’t spending your time together, because part of your ‘Hyunjin-crush-extinction-program’ had been to decidedly keep your nose out of his private affairs. If he had hook-ups, you had successfully managed to not witness any of them. It wouldn’t have been difficult to avoid situations like this though, considering he was friendly, well-mannered, hard working, and just about the stereotype of the perfect, sweet boy next door. He was ambitious, chivalrous, you had never seen him treat anyone with even the slightest disrespect, and you had never heard him talk badly about anyone. It was unfair, really, that on top of having an amazing character he also looked flawless. Long hair tickling his ears and the tips brushing his shoulders, still soft despite the way he bleached it all blond just a few months ago. Straight eyebrows, dark eyes that crinkled at the edges whenever he laughed, holding a sparkle that made it impossible not to laugh with him. His nose an elegant slope and a cute tip you had desperately wanted to kiss back when you had thought yourself in love with him. And his mouth. His mouth had been the worst part, because the boy looked like an angel but his lips never promised anything but sin, plush and soft and just about the most perfect lips anyone could ever want to kiss.

No, you were definitely not thinking about Hyunjin’s lips now. Even if there’s no problem with a bit of kissing between friends, no strings attached, right?

You shook yourself out of those thoughts, shoving them at the very back of your mind right with the memories of what it felt like to be hopelessly in love with Hyunjin, because those were parts of your life you had left behind and were not ever bringing back to explore.

You were thankfully forced to focus on something else for good when a loud thump sounded next to you, gaze dropping to the table with a slight squeal. Felix and Minho had dumped a whole tray loaded with various assortments of drinks and, to your dismay, also shots, in the middle of the table, spilling some of them in the process and splattering everyone with drops of sticky alcohol.

“I thought we’re not getting shit-faced today? It’s only Wednesday…” You tutted with a raised eyebrow, finger pointing at the shots specifically.

“Oh these?” Minho raised one eyebrow with a cat-like grin. “These are for our heartbreakers, since they look like they need a good amount of liquid courage.��

Changbin, one of said heartbreakers Minho had just mentioned, only rolled his eyes, but Jisung immediately grabbed two small glasses of what was undoubtedly tequila, downing both of them unceremoniously, foregoing the lemon. You laughed at the display, shoving one of the shots in Changbin’s direction discreetly, because even though he was putting on a tough act you could tell he was nervous.

You were occupying your usual booth at your favorite campus bar, attending Karaoke Wednesday for the sole reason of Changbin and Jisung promising they would finally get up on that stage and impress the girls they had been eyeing for the better part of almost two months. It was almost ridiculous, how your entire group had become regulars on karaoke night solely because these two kept saying they would ‘finally make a move this time’ every single week - only to chicken out.

Jisung was already on his fourth shot, ready to grab the fifth one, when you gently put your hand on his arm to stop him. “I think you should maybe slow down or all you’ll be doing is throwing up on her skirt before you can even utter a word.” you cringed, hoping you didn’t jinx it with your words.

Seungmin and Minho both laughed at the likely image of that happening but Jisung slumped back on the seat, rolling his eyes.

“You’re seriously the worst wing-men, all of you!”

The other boys only laughed more and you patted his hand empathetically, leaning over Hyunjin who was sitting right next to you.

“It’s going to be fine, Jisung. You go up there and you impress her, and she’ll totally fall in love with you. I would fall in love with you, if I weren’t already friends with you.”

The lie went over your lips smoothly, not even cringing inwardly when this was very much not true. Being friends hadn’t stopped you from falling in love with Hyunjin, but that experience had also taught you that you would never again get into the messy business of crushing on someone in your friend group.

“I would trust her judgment, you know,” Hyunjin added, casually grabbing your hand from on top of Jisung’s and placing it back on your own lap so he could lean forward and look at the blue haired boy. “She’s got actual standards, so her compliment means something.”

His hand never left yours, keeping his own slender fingers lightly wrapped around yours, a gesture so casual and normal between you that no one would even bat an eye. You laughed at Hyunjin’s words, whacking him over the back of his head softly. “What do you mean I have standards, I’m friends with you guys.”

“Yes, exactly,” Minho added pointedly, completely ignoring your jab and sliding a drink in your direction which looked suspiciously colorful and like it would make your teeth stick together.

“Shush, I was giving you a compliment bunny.”

You grinned at Hyunjin cheekily, from over the rim of your glass, proud that once again the pet name barely made your skin tingle. He always used it with you, and there was absolutely nothing flirtatious or special about it. It used to make your head spin, and it only took just about two years for you to get used to it.

“So what’s the game plan for tonight?” Chan piped up, the question mainly oriented at Jisung and Changbin, who were the sole reason you had even gathered at the bar and accidentally made it a tradition to get drunk on a freaking weekday.

“Let me guess, same as every week?” Seungmin asked, barely containing an eye-roll. Jisung was still pouting but Changbin set his shot glass down with vigor, sitting up straighter and causing you to snort into your drink. Hyunjin was helpfully patting your back to prevent you from choking while you listened to Changbin declaring how he would for sure win over his crush tonight.

The pats on your back changed to gently rubs once your coughing had calmed down a little and you skirted closer, leaning your head on Hyunjin’s shoulder. The last singer had ended their horrible rendition of Billie Eilish’s ‘Bad Guy’ and they were calling for new daring participants. For all of Changbin’s talk both he and Jisung had gotten very quiet. The drinks Minho and Felix had steadily brought had at least done nothing if not encourage everyone else at the table that tonight really was the night, so you weren’t surprised when Chan jumped up from his spot, waving and hollering to get the bartender’s attention.

“We have two entries here!” he shouted, so loudly that the whole bar had heard for sure and there was no way for Jisung or Changbin to back out of this. Waving him over Chan got up and fished a USB out of his back pocket, deeply engrossed in conversation with the bartender now. You knew he was trying to convince him to let your friends perform their own tracks instead of singing karaoke, which were saved on said USB. Jisung had gotten worryingly pale throughout the last two minutes, but your friends knew no mercy for the boys. Seungmin was already almost forcefully shoving Changbin out of the seat, and Felix and Minho were pulling Jisung, who did his best to resist, up by his arms.

You couldn’t help but laugh throughout the whole display, turning to catch Hyunjin doing the same while watching them.

“You think they’re aware their crushes are most likely watching them right now?”

“Don’t let them know, Jisung will probably pass away on the spot.”

You bit back a snort, nodding in agreement and continued watching how Chan threw a thumbs up in your direction and a very dramatic gurgle left Jisung’s lips. He might actually be about to pass out.

Hyunjin’s hand slipped from between your shoulder blades to your lower back, reaching the expanse of skin peeking out between your top and skirt. You shivered, unable to suppress the sensation and immediately sent your mind into shut down. Even if this was technically a normal reaction, it wasn’t with Hyunjin. You could never allow this with Hyunjin, because if he ever came even close to thinking you had a crush on him you would dig yourself a hole and vanish in the ground forever.

Halfway through the path to the stage the boys seemed to realize that their crushes were indeed watching them and finally managed to get it together so Seungmin, Minho and Felix could stop forcefully dragging them towards the raised platform.

The bartender – Seokjin, who Chan knew because they had a couple of classes together, which was most likely how he got him to agree to play their original songs – announced that tonight the program would be a little different, and you caught yourself sitting up straighter. Hyunjin moved with you automatically, pulling you closer with the movement, but your full attention was on the stage now. After months it was finally happening. The first heavy tunes of the song you had heard countless times by now started, and you watched your friends fumble for the microphones, still visibly nervous. They had performed their own music many times for you guys, but never on a scale this big, in front of strangers, and even worse, in front of someone they wanted to impress. The first few lines were a bit unsteady, making you cringe inwardly and holler out a lout whoop of encouragement. Jisung’s eyes caught your table, seeing you give him two thumbs up in support, and when a grin settled on his face you felt relief flood your body. Changbin didn’t need as much encouragement, immediately at ease as soon as he heard his own music, and once they started rapping you knew they were about to impress everyone in the bar, not just their crushes. Even though you knew the songs by heart you found yourself captured by their performance as well. They were just naturally talented, their charisma flowing through every line they were spitting.

Hyunjin’s hand, which had stilled when he, too, had focused on the performance, picked back up on drawing soft patterns on the small of your back and his nose brushed your hair when he leaned in enough so you could understand him over the music.

“You’re not actually gonna fall in love with Jisung now, right?” He was clearly joking and you leaned back to look at him with a laugh, mirroring his expression.

“Why are you asking? Are you jealous, Jinnie?” Hyunjin rolled his eyes in response at your absurd question. Why would he be jealous or anything even remotely as ludicrous, when your friendship was rivaled by yours and Chan’s only, and he damn well knew that.

“Of Jisung? Hell no, it took him two months to go up on that stage and the girl he’s trying to impress doesn’t even know it’s her he’s flexing this hard for.”

Even if you agreed you lightly pinched Hyunjin’s arm to let him know he wasn’t being entirely fair. Confidence didn’t come as natural to everyone as it did to him.

“I just think he wouldn’t deserve you.” he added as an afterthought, shrugging his shoulders.

“Oh?” you quipped, eyebrow raised because now you were intrigued. You could talk about almost everything with Hyunjin, but you hardly ever talked about something like this. For some reason your dating life (or lack thereof) was reserved for talks between you and anyone but Hyunjin, which you didn’t entirely mind. But now that it had come up, you were curious as to what he was trying to say. “And who would deserve me?”

Hyunjin opened his mouth only to close it again, the music filtering out in favor of a pregnant pause. He had successfully managed to capture your full attention, Jisung’s and Changbin’s performance, as good as it was, not as important as this conversation.

“No one of course.” Hyunjin finally deadpanned, as if it were the most obvious answer.

“No one…,” you repeated, a little incredulous. “So I’m just going to be single forever?”

Hyunjin shrugged, as if that was the obvious solution. “I suppose not. You’re going to settle for someone who doesn’t come close to the standards you’d deserve, and it’s going to be a tragedy.”

“Ah,” you supplied, your tone implying that, of course, how hadn’t you thought of that before? You let your eyes wander the room, settling on a guy halfway across with dark hair, a lean and tall figure and pretty beauty mark under his eye adorning his face.

“What about that one?” you nodded your head vaguely in his direction and Hyunjin followed your line of sight.

“Yugyeom?”

You rolled your eyes, raising an eyebrow at him. “How am I supposed to know? The one with the beauty mark.”

“Yeah, that’s Yugyeom. We share some classes, he’s a dance major.” He caught the wistful smile on your face, your eyes still locked on the other dancer rather than your friend, mentally jotting down his name while thinking that he definitely wouldn’t be a bad catch.

“Oh, hell no. I know what you’re thinking. He most certainly wouldn’t deserve you.” Hyunjin quickly grasped your chin softly but decisively, squishing your cheeks together and forcing your gaze back on him, confronted with your pout. “Don’t look at me like that. He’s a total fuckboy, you don’t want to get yourself into that mess.”

You hmphed, swiping your gaze in the other direction and away from Yugyeom. Instead, your eyes landed on a brown-haired boy who was sitting with a couple of friends, beer in hand and completely immersed in the music. He had a pretty, heart-shaped face, full cheeks and, oh god, dimples.

“What if I want the guy with the dimples? I think I’d want the guy with the dimples,” you decided, directing your question at Hyunjin, who apparently had become the judge of your hypothetical love life.

“Jaehyun, seriously?” Hyunjin’s exasperated tone was enough to tell you what he was thinking of that choice, but you decided to push it a little, just to tease him.

“Yeah, Jaehyun. I should go say hi.” Hyunjin’s hand, which had still been comfortably resting on your back, drawing distracting patterns from time to time, slipped around your waist, his fingers digging into your skin faster than you could react.

“Alright, alright, relax, I’m not going to do it. So he’s bad business?” Hyunjin relaxed his grasp only infinitesimal, as if he didn’t trust that you wouldn’t just jump up as soon as he let go.

“No, he’s actually a pretty fun guy. But I’ve seen his tongue down more girl’s throats in, like, barely a month, than I can count on my hands and toes. He’s football captain, too, so his life is pretty much sports and fucking. Unless that’s what you’re looking for…?”

“I guess not. Shame,” you commented, abandoning the idea of Jaehyun because he was clearly very far from your type. Your type being extremely hard to define because you had barely paid attention to boys other than the casual hookup throughout high school, and the only ever serious crush you had had been Hyunjin, with no other following after. There had been guys, but there hadn’t been anyone who managed to make your heart beat quite as fast as Hyunjin had.

The performance had long but ended by now, someone else already taking the stage, but the guys weren’t back yet, Chan stuck at the bar and engrossed in an animated conversation with Seokjin, who was severely disregarding every other customer. You had lost sight of Seungmin, Felix, Minho, Changbin and Jisung in the crowd so your booth was currently solely occupied by Hyunjin and you.

Letting your gaze glide over the crowd once again, mostly just to see if you could spot any of your friends, they instead landed on a head of white blonde hair, surely long enough to brush over the tips of the boys ears if he hadn’t slicked it back, showing off his undercut and sharp jawline. Oh, you knew that boy. It was true that only ever Hyunjin got your heart to beat fast, but you would lie to say there weren’t other boys who got you excited in other ways – Park Seonghwa right at the very top of that list. He was lounging on the backrest of a worn leather sofa, his back leant against the wall, legs spreading impossibly wide, as if he had no intention of making room for anyone else (he probably didn’t).

Hyunjin clearly had caught onto your not so subtle staring, because his next words were more exasperated than they had been at any other suggestion so far.

“Park Seonghwa?!”

You quickly glanced at your friend with a sheepish smile, before turning your gaze back to the white blond boy, resting your arm on the back of your seat and your chin atop of it.

“Yeah, Seonghwa is hot.”

“God, I take back everything I said about you having standards.” Hyunjin groaned next to you, but it wasn’t enough to pull your gaze away from the other boy. Everyone and their mum knew who Seonghwa was, campus heartthrob extraordinaire, with just the right amount of bad boy flair to make every girl positively drool. Now, you knew you didn’t stand a chance with him, just the way you had known that you didn’t stand a chance with Hyunjin. Guys that pretty were just way above your level, despite what Hyunjin said.

It wasn’t that you were unpopular per se, because hanging with one of the most infamous friend groups on campus had definitely gotten you a certain amount of popularity yourself. It had happened by accident, really, because Chan’s parents had moved in next door in elementary school, making you walking buddies on your way to school every single day for years, forcing Chan to befriend you. It could have ended after Chan had already entered high school and gained quite a bit of a reputation when you finally left elementary school behind to join him. But it didn’t. For some unfathomable reason he had decided that there was no one cooler at school than you, spending every lunch break and free period in your company, dragging you along and introducing you to all of his friends. Slowly but steadily your group had grown, Seungmin, Changbin and Jisung joining first, and then, one by one, Minho, Felix, Hyunjin and Jeongin. All of them had been semi-popular for their talents and charms even by themselves, but as a group they were one of those cliques that everyone wanted to be a part of just once. And somehow, through all of it, you had ended up as Chan’s number one.

Anyhow, all of that meant that you weren’t exactly unpopular, but nowhere near the level where you presumed you could pull someone like Park Seonghwa, just like you hadn’t presumed you could pull someone like Hyunjin, even if you had already been friends at that point.

“Are you even listening to me?” Hyunjin quipped impatiently, poking your side and you had, indeed, not been listening.

“Repeat it for me?”

You clearly heard his annoyed grumble, causing you to grin, although not in Hyunjin’s direction but in Seonghwa’s instead, who exactly at that moment seemed to have sensed that someone was staring at him and caught your gaze.

“I said I don’t—” The words didn’t filter through to you because Seonghwa was running a hand through his hair, one eyebrow raised in challenge, and you thought you might die on the spot. He couldn’t possibly mean you, could he? It felt like the longest staring match possible, even though it was probably only seconds before Seonghwa nodded his head towards the door and even through your disbelief you were ready to jump up and leave. But you were stopped when someone scooted right next to you, successfully ripping your gaze away from Seonghwa and pressing you closer to Hyunjin. It was Minho, decidedly more drunk than before, and when you snapped your head back around to Seonghwa you knew you’d missed your chance because he was already engrossed in a conversation with one of his friends.

With a wistful sigh you turned back around and the first thing you noticed were the two empty cups in front of Hyunjin that hadn’t been there minutes ago, which meant he had downed them in the short time you had spent eye-fucking Seonghwa.

“Care to explain what exactly you’re planning, don’t you have morning class?” You questioned the boy with concern, knowing that usually he held back because he took his dancing very seriously.

“What if I do?” Hyunjin just grunted snappily, reaching over the table to steal Felix’ drink while the blonde boy wasn’t looking.

You made a sour face at him, not knowing what had suddenly gotten into him and deciding that if he wanted to do something he would regret tomorrow you wouldn’t stop him if that’s the attitude he was giving you. Instead, you focused on Jisung, who had accumulated about four table’s worth of coasters and had started building a ginormous house upon his return. He wasn’t very successful at it, most likely because you could tell by his droopy gaze that he was very drunk.

“How did it go?” You inquired nosily, directing the question at everyone at the table who had clearly paid more attention to Jisung’s attempts of conquest than Hyunjin and you had.

“Did you know that in kindergarten they called me the ‘god of crafting’?” Jisung instead slurred, causing you to look at him as if to ask ‘what the fuck’ while everyone else was tipsy enough to deem this a perfectly acceptable answer. Felix even patted his back (which caused the coaster house to crumble) to congratulate him on his title.

You groaned in frustration, noticing how Hyunjin had emptied Felix’ cup as well now, only adding to your irritation.

“With the girl, Jisung, how did it go with the girl?” Jisung didn’t reply, intently focused on building his coaster house and mainly on ignoring you, so you turned helplessly to the other guys, question marks written all over your face. Felix was shaking his head as if to signal that it wasn’t a good topic to talk about but Minho wasn’t quite as sensitive.

“She didn’t like your lyrics? What was it she hated? ‘Excuse me noona, do you have a boyfriend?’” Minho was cackling in the ugliest way possible, causing half the table to almost spit out their drink against better judgement.

“I didn’t even talk to her!” Jisung instead ground out, throwing his head on the table with a thunk that resonated loudly and must have hurt, shaking the whole coaster house he’d built to the ground again.

“What do you mean you didn’t talk to her?”

“I chickened out okay!” He whined, voice muffled against the tabletop and the whole table groaned in unison at the hopelessness of it all.

“What about Changbin?” Hyunjin asked next to you, voice way friendlier than it had been seconds ago when he had talked to you. You decided not to be sour about whatever had gotten into him, because the hangover he would have tomorrow would be karmic energy enough.

“Judge for yourself,” Seungmin commented with a grimace, pointing a thumb over his back and you followed the direction he was pointing, catching sight of a couple pressed up against the wall next to the bar. The others were clearly looking at them too, Seungmin’s grimace not warning enough.

“Oh my god, is he for real?” You gasped, your grimace now matching Seungmin’s at how Changbin’s hands where clearly up the girls skirt right there, no doubt groping her butt.

“Well, he’s still faring better than me,” Jisung commented dryly, and you felt so sorry for the boy you couldn’t even laugh when he knocked his coasters down again.

“That reminds me, a girl asked me earlier if you and Hyunjin were dating,” Felix threw in, looking between the two of you and despite Hyunjin’s suddenly sour mood you couldn’t bite back a grin.

“Which one?” You inquired, curious who had been checking him out. Felix quickly scanned the crowd before finding who he was looking for, unashamedly pointing at her. Your eyes followed, quickly recognizing her from one of your classes. Despite your best efforts you couldn’t help but feel a short sting in your chest because if she was interested in Hyunjin her chances were definitely better than yours had been.

“That’s Chaeyoung,” you explained, managing to keep your voice stable and enthusiastic. “She’s in my Thursday afternoon course, total cutie. You should talk to her Hyunjin.”

“Why are you trying to set me up again?” Hyunjin only asked, not even bothering to grant Chaeyoung a single glance. It was true, you had made it a habit to try and set him up with someone back when you had desperately been trying to overcome your crush, thinking it would be easier if he were taken. Over time it had simply become a tradition you hadn’t really dropped since then.

“I don’t know? I’ve never really seen you hook up with anyone, I just don’t want you to combust at some point.”

“I haven’t seen you hooking up either,” He pointed out and you didn’t really know what to say to that, so you decided to ignore it. He had a point, but the reasons for that were not something you wanted to tell him, of all people.

“Chaeyoung’s a really nice girl and she’s gorgeous, if she’s really interested in you I think-“ you stopped mid-sentence, the words dying on your lips when Hyunjin’s hand unceremoniously slipped onto your exposed thigh. The conversation had apparently been drowned under the music because no one commented on how you never ended your sentence, mouth hanging open like an idiot before you caught yourself. Hyunjin was always touchy when he was drunk, and he was definitely drunk after he had rushed down three cups in a matter of minutes. There was nothing more behind this than him wanting you to stop trying to set him up.

“Someone should really stop Changbin.”

Everyone made the mistake of looking over to your friend again at Seungmin’s words, cringing even more at how the girl already had one leg wrapped around his waist, basically letting him grind into her against the wall.

Seungmin’s prompt evolved into a discussion of who would be the unlucky one to break them up and you were grateful no one was suggesting you. Despite your best efforts you couldn’t quite ignore Hyunjin’s hand, his fingers annoyingly soft on your skin. And, fuck, you weren’t sure if he was even aware but they were brushing the inside of your thigh, ghosting over sensitive skin. He couldn’t possibly be doing this on purpose. Why would he be?

You barely caught that Felix had been the unlucky one who was designated to kick Changbin’s ass and tell him to go somewhere at least a little more private.

“Thank fuck we didn’t bring Jeongin today,” You threw into the round, mostly just to save face and pretend you weren’t fighting with all you got not to clench your thighs together when Hyunjin dragged his nails up the inside of your thigh, stopping only when he ever so slightly dipped under the hem of your skirt. He had to be doing this on purpose.

“I mean, I’m glad he’s getting some, but damn, we’re too good at our own job, this is self-sabotaging,” Minho stated, blatantly ignoring that you had failed big time as wing-men when it came to Jisung, while you barely had to do anything for Changbin.

You chuckled, proud that your laugh didn’t hitch at the consistent movement of Hyunjin’s hand. What the fuck was he doing? You had half a mind to ask him, but you deemed it too embarrassing if he really wasn’t doing this on purpose and you called him out on subconsciously getting you all riled up. He’s always touchy when he’s drunk. He’s always touchy. It was better than him being pissy at any rate.

“Can someone take me home, I think I’m gonna be sick,” Jisung moaned from where he was resting his forehead on his arms, half hanging off the table, and you weren’t sure if he was drunk or close to crying, but either way it would be better if he got back to his dorm right about now.

Minho and Seungmin both got up with a sigh, hooking their arms under his to pull him up.

“You guys gonna be fine?” Seungmin, the only somewhat sober one asked and you were cut short before you could even reply.

“I’ll make sure she gets home safely,” Hyunjin immediately supplied and you didn’t want to point out with the way he was slurring you would be the one taking him home safely. It wouldn’t be the first time you walked home together, either one or both of you drunk, so Seungmin and Minho accepted gratefully and focused back on pulling Jisung up with them.

“Now where’s Cha-“

“How can you be so unaffected?”

You turned to Hyunjin, not quite understanding what he was getting at but giving up your search for Chan immediately. He hadn’t been super drunk when you’d last seen him, and even if, he was a big boy and could get home by himself just fine.

“What do you mean?” You asked dumbly instead, and in place of a reply Hyunjin’s hand slipped lower between your thighs, thumb now brushing the inside too.

“You know what I mean.”

You weren’t sure if it was because he was drunk but his voice was raspy. So obviously, you did the only thing you could think of and started giggling in panic, successfully killing the moment that you weren’t sure had even been one. If it left Hyunjin utterly confused he didn’t say so, instead pulling his hand away from your thigh, finally giving you enough focus to breathe again.

“Do you still want to look for Chan?”

You shook your head, instead grabbing onto his arm and pulling him towards the exit, struggling when you noticed just how much he was staggering.

“Jesus Christ, you’re drunk. Let’s just get you home, alright?” You sighed, swiping his hair out of his eyes and patting his shoulder when he almost hooked his foot in the doorframe and fell.

“M’not drunk,” Hyunjin muttered, burying his face in your shoulder and hanging onto your arm with almost his full weight and that’s when you knew that the fresh air had kicked in. Sighing, you shifted your weight best as you could and continued staggering down the empty road down campus towards Hyunjin’s shared dorm with Seungmin, Minho and Felix, hoping that one of them would be home already and would let you in.

Deciding to push your luck a little you slowed your walk, taking a breath of fresh air before deciding that Hyunjin wouldn’t remember this conversation tomorrow, so if there was ever a chance to ask it would be right now.

“Why did you act so pissy earlier when we were joking around?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” you echoed his words from earlier, but with an entirely different meaning. Silence settled over you, leaving only your steps, dragging under Hyunjin’s weight, and his heavier ones to sound in the empty area. He wasn’t going to answer, so you decided to shortly let go of him in retaliation. You immediately regretted that choice when he only clamped down on you harder and almost caused both of you to fall.

Readjusting your grip you continued shuffling down the road, deciding to give it another try.

“Why did you decide to get shit-faced, knowing damn well you will regret this tomorrow?”

“Nope.”

You huffed in annoyance at how he made the p of the word pop loudly, but decidedly did not give you an answer. You were growing increasingly frustrated.

“Why do you always act so uninterested when I try to set you up with nice girls?”

“Not gonna answer.”

“Okay, then riddle me this, why the fuck did you feel me up in the middle of the bar with Minho literally right next to me?” Frustration was audibly laced through your voice now, with how uncooperative he was being, but he caught you off guard when instead of replying he simply stopped in his tracks, taking a deep breath and then walked straight to the bench at the side of the street, sitting down heavily. You were left standing by yourself, looking at him questioningly.

“Come here.”

You stood rooted on the street, dumbfounded for another moment what he was getting at, before you took a couple of steps towards him, heavy with hesitant confusion, ready to settle down on the empty spot on the bench. Instead Hyunjin grasped your wrist and pulled you off balance, causing you to stumble. It didn’t matter if you tried to catch your fall because Hyunjin had other plans, his other hand catching your thigh and pulling you down on his lap.

“What are you-?”

The rest of your words was swallowed by his lips on your mouth. You felt almost as if you were caught in some type of twisted deja-vu, because this had happened so many times in your mind. But while you had dreamed of kissing Hyunjin, it had never gone down quite like this, and it hadn’t felt like this either. This was needy, carnal. Your legs were splayed on either side of his, skirt naturally hitched up, and his hands were on your cheeks, cupping your face, fingers digging into your skin as if he was scared you’d move away if he didn’t hold on to you. You were way too shocked to do anything, even if he weren’t making sure your lips stayed on his. You couldn’t even react, not until he took your bottom lip between his and bit down, eliciting a gasp from you that was somewhere between surprise and almost whining. His tongue followed, soothing the bite, and that’s when your brain shut down and you whimpered, hands slipping into his hair. It was soft, it always was, but this was different, because when you dragged your nails over his scalp, getting stuck in a tangle of his hair he groaned and you swallowed the sound. It sent warmth straight to your stomach. His hands slipped, from cradling your face to cupping the back of your neck, and you welcomed the added pressure, the way he meshed your lips together so desperately. You whimpered again, a little whinier, a little needier, and it was all Hyunjin needed to slip his tongue into your mouth. He tasted like alcohol, but he also tasted like him, and you thought you couldn’t possibly get enough. Hyunjin’s other hand was everywhere at once, running up your legs, scratching your thighs until you were gasping into his kisses. It was messy, your mouth wet and your lips kiss-swollen and you couldn’t stop touching him either, savoring the way the slightest touches made him react.

Leaning back slightly, just enough to catch your breath, another whimper slipped over your lips when you caught his gaze, dark eyes looking into yours so greedily you wanted nothing more than for him to wreck you.

“What are we doing, Hyunjin?” you whispered, and even that seemed inappropriately loud for the eerie silence of the campus road.

“Whatever you want bunny. Whatever makes you feel good, just tell me.”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath to gather your thoughts because he had never, never, talked to you like this before and it was causing heat to pool right between your legs. Even just the thought of him fucking you until you couldn’t think straight made you clench around nothing, regretting that he wasn’t doing so already.

“But why are we-?”

He shut you up with another kiss, going straight to sucking on your bottom lip, his tongue adding to the pleasure. Your eyes fluttered shut, questions dying down again. He was moving from your lips to your jaw and then to your neck, leaving a wet trail. He wasn’t even close to leaving a hickey, his bites too soft and too quick, doing nothing but to add to the tingle of anticipation running down your skin. You felt his hands move down your arms, almost hoping they would settle on your ass but he stopped just short of the hem of your shirt, running a fingertip along it until you were shivering. You felt him smile against your skin in between kisses, before his fingers settled on grasping onto the upper edge of your top, slipping down the strap and pulling until it left the soft flesh of your tits exposed. You had half a mind to stop him, thinking your bra would go next, the sheer lace doing very little to cover your hard nipples anyways, but instead he bit down, all softness from earlier gone. You gasped, loud this time, the sound turning into a moan when his lips wrapped around your nipple, sucking hard enough you could feel every movement of his mouth even through the lace. His tongue was swirling around your nipple, causing your breath to become erratic and your hands to clench in his hair, so hard he was groaning against your skin again.

“Hyunjin since when-?” You didn’t need to finish your sentence, but you immediately regretted even attempting to talk when his lips detached from your nipple, the spit-soaked material of your bra a cold contrast in the night air.

“I always tell you how pretty you are.” It wasn’t an explanation by any means but his mouth was still busy ghosting over your skin, his other hand now coming to slip under your bra, fingertip drawing over your nipple so deliciously it almost made you forget the questions you were burning to have answers to.

“You call everyone pretty, so why are we, shit, god you’re good-“ It took a few moments for you to collect yourself again, breath agitated and the heat between your thighs impossible to ignore while Hyunjin’s mouth had settled on your nipple again. His hands had finally dropped to your ass. He was pressing you down on his crotch and you had lost all capability to speak when his hard dick pressed against your wet underwear. Holy fuck, no matter what his motivations were he clearly wanted you right now.

“-why am I dry humping your dick on a park bench, you don’t get hard for all your friends, do you?”

„Nope.“

Again he let the p pop, but this time he accentuated the sound with a lazy grin, because despite your protests you were rolling your hips just the way he wanted you to, grinding yourself on his hard dick. Your underwear was sticking to your center, no doubt covering his pants in your juices already and the thought of it only made you wetter. “Your skirt looked so cute today, I really wanted you to ride me.”

You didn’t deem it necessary to mention that you had worn this skirt many times before and it had not ended up with him telling you he wanted his dick inside you. Not when he was swiping his fingers over your wet panties, groaning at the slickness between your legs. “I wanna go down on you so badly bunny, I’d love to make you cum all over my tongue.”

You could only whimper, no coherent words forming in your mind because he had swiped your slick underwear to the side, his finger now slipping through your wet lips. There was something about the fact that he was still holding onto your ass, pressing you close enough that he could reach your drenched folds from behind that made your head swim with pleasure. He had rushed his kisses before, but he was not rushing this, running his fingers from your clit down to your entrance slowly. He kept spreading you open, making sure to coat his fingers to his knuckles in your wetness. It was lewd, night air kissing your exposed skin while he was brushing his fingers over your slickness until you were shaking from just that.

You dropped your face to the crook of his neck, your moan muffled by his skin when he finally sunk two fingers into you up to his knuckles. He stilled, enjoying the feeling of you clenching around him while your fingernails dug into his skin, surely leaving marks even through his shirt.

When you started grinding your hips slightly, trying to get some friction and fuck yourself on his fingers because he wasn’t moving his other hand came up to your waist, stopping your movement.

“Nuh-uh, I wanna make you feel good, let me do this.”

You could only nod, hoping he could feel the confirmation, accepting that you’d behave if only he would finally do something. You were rewarded with a crook of his fingers you felt right at that sweet spot that had you arch your back.

“Right there, Hyunjin, do that again please.”

“That felt good?” He drawled, purposely crooking his fingers again, harder this time, and your moan was so breathy you felt dizzy. He finally motioned for you to move, lifting your hips so he could slip his fingers out before he fully sank them into you again, repeating the motion until you were bouncing on his lap, skirt bunched in his free hand and hitched up so high there was no way it covered anything. Eyes fluttering open to look at Hyunjin you knew you were right because he was mesmerized by the way your lips swallowed up his fingers, wet sounds every time you lowered yourself down on his hand.

“You’re doing so well, think you can come like that for me bunny?”

“Yes, god- fuck, yes-“

You were a stuttering mess, your words barely intelligible when Hyunjin picked up the pace, pushing his fingers into you at an angle that hit your most sensitive spot every time. It didn’t take long to have you seeing stars, your orgasm a tight curl in your stomach. Pressing his face to your tits again it only took one more harsh suck on your nipple and the knot unfurled, your walls clenching as you came hard on his fingers. Your orgasm was causing your body to be wrecked with shivers, his name falling over your lips like a mantra until your throat felt sore. His fingers were still inside you when you slumped against him, his free hand cradling your head, letting it rest on your shoulder.

“The fuck did we just do, Hyunjin?” You mumbled, uncertainty lacing through your post orgasm haze. You were far from calmed down, body still tingling from head to toes, a shiver running down your spine every time he moved his fingers inside you just the slightest bit, but with it came another realization.

Your crush on Hyunjin wasn’t gone. Possibly had never left, and now that he’d made you come on his fingers it was crashing over you like a tidal wave. You needed this to mean something because if it didn’t you were almost sure there was no way you could get over it.

“I don’t know about you, but fingering you in that cute little skirt was definitely on my bucket list for tonight.”

His words were still slurred. God, how had you managed to completely ignore that slur once he kissed you? He was drunk and you let him finger you in public because he was horny. His god damn bucket list for the night. Were you ranked lower or higher than getting shit faced in a cheap campus bar?

Anger was welling up in your chest - at yourself for being so stupid, for thinking you were over him, and at Hyunjin for making you a drunk fuck and disregarding over two years of friendship.

It wasn’t fair, because it happened, friends casually fucked, and he couldn’t have possibly known it would hurt you. You couldn’t have known either, but now it was too late. The squelching sound resonating in the silence when you lifted yourself off his lap made you cringe and you couldn’t smooth out your skirt and step away fast enough. Your shirt was wet with his spit, and you could feel him all over your body, which only made everything all that much worse.

“So, we’re done here now and that’s that.”

It was supposed to be a question, but even to your ears it sounded more like a statement, and you were almost grateful. A question could’ve meant that you wanted more. You didn’t want him to know before, and he certainly couldn’t know now.

For a short moment Hyunjin was looking at you with an expression you couldn’t decipher before he carelessly wiped his fingers on his pants, completely ignoring the awfully visible tent from his straining dick.

“Want me to walk you home?”

You bit your lip in order to stop yourself from crying out in frustration. Who was this person, and where had your best friend gone? Hyunjin cared, he always did, so could he not tell how you were clearly struggling, how you were barely keeping it together while he completely shut himself off from you emotionally? You would not lose this friendship because of one stupid mistake.

“Yeah, please.”

#hyunjin #Hyunjin smut #Hwang hyunjin #stray kids #stray kids smut #enjoyyyyy

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teagballs · 9 months

Note

hello angel! I was wondering if you could write a Dennis Reynolds x fem!reader one shot where basically, reader is apart of the gang and has been for a while. Surprisingly, one time when Dennis was really angry, she calmed him down. Everyone was shocked the first, but slowly overtime got used to it. Dennis always ignored the warm feeling in his chest when she calmed him, but when he went on a date and got really mad and the girl tried to calm him down, he got even more angry than realised he liked reader??

sorry if it’s confusing 😭🫶

calmed | dennis reynolds x reader

read part 2 here!!

authors note: HEYOOO still alive. thank u sm for this prompt anon! tbh it was a bit of a challenge and i struggled 😭 i always struggle to write for dennis. i hope i did this idea justice cuz i love it. also this is my first iasip fic im publishing yayayay please send more requests for it im sooo deep into it rn. ive got a dee fic in the works rn.

cw: average dennis insanity ofc, swearing, mentions of D.E.N.N.I.S ing girls so yk, mentions of sex.

fic under the cut!

You can recall the first time you ever saw Dennis freak out.

"Idiots! Fucking idiots all of them!" Dennis ranted in his usual methodic tone. The gang wasn't phased, this sort of Dennis rant was something they'd become accustomed to. For you - the latest addition the gang - you had never witnessed one of Dennis' outbursts. It was probably that empathic nature or yours that made you want to act, to console him. And you did. Despite the gang's protests, once they noticed you about to leap into action. They knew it was better to just let Dennis ride out the anger and come down again. But you reached out and touched his arm. The gang collectively held their breath, expecting Dennis to bark out some obscenities in response, but it never came. The feeling of your hand on him made him turn to face you, to look at you.

"Dennis, it's okay, we'll fix this, I promise."

And he calmed. And took a deep breath.

"You know what? You're right. I can fix this." Dennis exhaled. Everyone was shocked,

"What the fuck just happened." Mac said blankly. In the whole time they had known him, Dennis had never been able to be pacified from one of these insane outbursts.

But then it became frequent, because Dennis's raging was frequent. Every time he would begin ranting and raving, you were able to calm him down. It was a voice of serene amidst the chaos. It went on for years like this, as you became part of the gang.

You were usually there hanging out with the gang when things would go wrong, and you'd be able to solve it and calm him down. But today, that wasn't the case. Today, Dennis was on a date.

Dennis was in the process of getting this woman to sleep with him, his stock procedure. But the date had been falling apart. It first started with his suit getting ruined. After dressing himself up in a nice blazer and shirt outfit, it was massacred by spaghetti after Mac spilt it on top of Dennis. Mac was haphazardly carrying it through their shared kitchen and failed to notice him.

"Christ Mac, what the hell are you doing!"

But that was okay. He could manage. He would just have to change. And although this did delay him, he could still D.E.N.N.I.S this girl. He could just say he was late because he was helping some old lady cross the street or looking after a stray kitten.

After successfully making it out of the door, he began to drive to the date. A cute restaurant not too far from his apartment, a picturesque rendezvous. But this was stalled even further by the lack of parking spaces available. Dennis groaned at threw his head back against the car headrest. After circling the block for what felt like the 100th time, Dennis decided to just park further away and book it to the restaurant. He settled for a tucked away corner of the city. Sure, it was far, but hey, at least it was a space.

Finally, after running to the entrance of the restaurant, he saw his date waiting, arms folded.

"Dennis! There you are! What took you so long?Are you.. okay? You look at a little out of sorts." Cadence spoke.

"Sorry. Sorry. Some old hags cat was- was trying to cross the road. I had to run from the other side of town." Dennis panted. He didn't expect the journey to have made him so debilitated. 'Not a perfect excuse, either. I might have messed up the wording..' he thought.

Dennis and his date, Cadence finally entered the restaurant. Dennis regained most of his breath and approached the host.

"Reynolds, table for two." He told the host.

The host scanned their notebook with a pen and searching eyes.

"Sorry, sir, I don't see anything for Reynolds here. Are you sure you booked for this restaurant?" The host replied. They lacked any kind of care for the situation, replying in a detached tone. Most likely years of working customer service had drained them.

"Am I sure I booked for- do you think I'm some kind of bumbling buffoon? Of course I fucking did!" Dennis snarled. Seemingly the frustrations from the evening were overflowing and spilling out.

"What do you take me for some kind of idiot!?" Dennis continued to bawl.

At this point, his date was getting embarrassed of his uncontrolled emotions. Cadence leaned in and touched his forearm. And maybe if it wasn't Dennis Reynolds she had performed this action on, it could have worked and soothed him.

"Dennis its okay, we can go eat somewhere else if you want?"

Immediately Dennis shook her grip off him.

"If I want? Why would I want to eat somewhere else when I made a fucking reservation here. What I want is to eat here!" He snapped, tapping his finger on the hosts notebook.

"Dennis, it's okay. We will do whatever you want." Cadence tried again.

"What I want? What I want is... well, what would you know about fixing shit! You're just..! Well, you're not.. not." Oh. And that's when it hit him.

What Dennis wanted now was not a reservation at this pseudo-rich restaurant. And he knew he certainly didn't want Cadence to try and comfort him. Her words didn't seem to hold any mindfulness or meaning... but yours did. She wasn't you. What he wanted was you. That's all he ever wanted. Everything else he had been doing for was a pathetic search to fill the void. The women he was trying to do, D.E.N.N.I.S, the dates he'd go on, the sex he would have, it all meant nothing.

All he wanted was you. A pure undivided love and something he had never felt before. Dennis had an unprofound realisation that he liked someone. Something most come to grips with in adolescents. But for him, that realisation was something he had never had. It made his heart ache and burn. He needed to act. He needed to call you and spill his heart out. Because no one was like you, and that's all he could think about as he turned on his heel and left the restaurant.

#dennis reynolds x reader #dennis reynolds #iasip x reader #its always sunny in philidelphia x reader #its always sunny x reader #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 2 years

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Daemon x velaryon warrior reader please

This is set during the war in the Stepstones. Reader is Corlys’s daughter who is a little older than Leanor and Laena

keep sending requests

Many knights had shared a laugh when you arrived on dragon’s back alongside your brother Leanor. They thought your father was a fool to allow you to join them in the Stepstones, to fight at their sides. According to them– according to men, you needed a cock – regardless of its size – to partake in wars and battles and they were very insistent about that.

Every time you opened your mouth to share your input on a strategy or offer to go on the warzone, someone would oppose and make a sexist comment, but you were always quick to remind them that a war was fought with swords, arrows and dragons, not genitals.

And Daemon loved every second of it. He marveled at the way you never let anyone walk over you and weren't scared of putting men back in their places.

‘’Woman, leave the strategy to the men and stick to the embroidery,’’ Vaemond sniggered, getting other men to laugh along.

Your blood was boiling. ‘’Are you insinuating that I lack the wit to come up with an attack strategy? I'll have you, uncle, know that the last attack was my idea and we successfully put down a hundred men thanks to my night patrolling. You should know by now, uncle, that knowing your enemy is essential to plan an attack. It lowers the fatalities on our side and you know we need all the men we have left.’’

Vaemond refused to believe you. ‘’Lies!’’ he called. ‘’Leanor came up with the idea.’’

‘’Knowing you would oppose to the idea, I shared it to Leanor and asked him to present it to prove you all that I am capable of coming up with war plans.’’

Before you, Vaemond was speechless and Leanor was looking smug, proud of his sister.

‘’What role have you played in this council, Uncle, other than Master of Complaints?’’ you added to fuel the fire just as a dragon’s shriek was heard over your heads, announcing Daemon returned with Caraxes.

‘’Enough!’’ Lord Corlys barked, breaking the bickering between his brother and daughter. He narrowed his eyes at Vaemond, wishing the older man would just stop belittling you and accept that you were part of the war council. Mayhaps if he did, the other knights would do the same. ‘’Leanor! What are our options?’’

‘’The Crabfeeder created a choke point here, beyond these dunes.’’ Your brother placed the paw on the war map to better explain. ‘’Archers hold the high positions, foot soldiers hold the ground. We’ve strafed them on dragon back again and again, but they just retreat within the caves. Dragons can circle Bloodstone until they fall out of the sky–’’

Leanor’s voice was drowned, your eyes and attention shifting to Daemon as he walked up to the table everyone was reassembled around, having returned from flying over Bloodstone. He removed his gloves and put them on the table, then removed his helmet, revealing sweaty silver hair and fierce braids. You felt a tightening in your stomach from looking at him, the dirt on his face rendering him more attractive in his warrior attire armor.

‘’What’s the report, my prince?’’ a knight asked, waiting expectantly.

‘’The Crabfeeder and his pirates retreated to the caves the moment they saw the dragon,’’ Daemon reported, finding himself at a stalemate.

‘’We could block the issues of the caves and catch them when they leave? They can only last so long in the caves,’’ one of the Velaryon knight suggested.

You shook your head. ‘’How long would we be standing there for? Hours? Our knights will get tired and the pirates will use it to their advantages to attack. It could end in a bloodbath for us. We cannot afford to lose more soldiers.’’

‘’Besides, the caves go on for miles,’’ Laenor added, supporting your point. ‘’They probably have food and all else they could ever need in the caves. The Crabfeeder and his men have no reason to leave those caves.’’

‘’Then, we must give them one.’’ It was crazy, but you had used up all the sane strategies by now -- and you were running out of time and men. ‘’An offering of flesh to bait the crab.’’

A thick silence installed itself around the table, knowing your strategy would put someone’s life in jeopardy -- and possible death.

‘’Who?’’ your father asked, breaking the silence.

Vaemond's obnoxious laugh followed. ‘’Which man here will happily go to his death? Show me the knight who will march into that hell pit, niece, and I will show you a madman.’’

Your eyes flickered to the silver haired warrior before you. ‘’Daemon.’’

You would not call Daemon a madmen; he was impulsive and unforgiving, but also a devoted and talented warrior and, unlike some people at the table, he was fighting this war in the Stepstones, swinging Dark Sister and slaying pirates on the grounds.

‘’Please elaborate, Lady Y/N?’’ the prince said, interested in your idea.

Once again, Vaemond was baffled. ‘’You are willing to let the woman direct us? To drive you to your death?!’’

’’Call me ‘woman’ again, uncle, and I’ll have you fed to my dragon. Silverwing hasn’t had her breakfast yet,’’ you said, your threat not empty.

The corner of Daemon’s lips curled into a smirk. ‘’Caraxes could use some more meat too, in case anyone agrees with Lord Vaemond.’’

Taglist: @taylordaughter @gillybear17 @liltimmyst @eos-princess @Kaitieskidmore1 @instabull

House of the Dragon/Game of Thrones taglist: @anastasiaxsworld @lollypopcrazylover @fin-never @dkathl @ayamenimthiriel @nerdy4itall @rraindrops @glors3 @beelanie @hc-geralt-23 @sweetybuzz25 @uniquenightsheep @kaywsworld @i-yam-awesome @caspianobsessed @kelssssxd @dilfsarebetterthanyou @missyviolet123 @leakycauldrns @brezzybfan @khaleesihavilliard @vexedvalerie @lollaa-puff @my-dark-prince @chevelledahuman @caspianobsessed @ayamenimthiriel @yor72 @mirandastuckinthe80s @newtsniffles @cleverzonkwombatsludge @justaproudslytherpuff @ren-ni @green-lxght @anginoguera @bubblebuttwade @comicsol1999 @rockerchick05 @baelavelaryonwp @tnu-ree @beccawinter @alexisabirdie @persage @hayleighloatx @kindaslightlyacidic @perdynerd @elsyyie @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @xannybabyxx @katiepie67 @kjones375 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @queenofshinigamis @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @Wehi02 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @cayleecook38 @yoyopolloobamadaddy @hayleighloatx @vane1999-blog @smptxx @fairyfolkloresposts @yassi-world @todaywasafairytale07 @ESobilal @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @Katelyn15m @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @beggarsnotchoosey @vainillasmil157 @kizzyxren @clayzayden@memeorydotcom @Harryshousewhore @kodzuvk @tnu-ree @omgsuperstarg @futuregws @blackravena @ashlatano7567 @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @uh-no-actually @secretsthathauntus @lemiqa @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @Hc-geralt-23 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @mouldyfrog @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @drusillaravenclaw @softtina @Jelly-fishy-babie @evesolstice @Thelilacmourning @dkathl @Thelilacmourning @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @xannybabyxx

#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd #hotd imagine

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colloquialcolors · 2 years

Text

gonna write a fucking post about the Winter TLOU section and episode 8 because what ELSE am I supposed to do after witnessing that huh.

As someone very very pleased overall with the adaptation from the game to the show, something I have missed a little is, oddly enough- the hard cuts to black and time jumps after emotionally harrowing sequences or intense moments. After Henry and Sam's deaths. Joel collapsing outside the university. This episode, though, made something about that choice click into place.

For more context- in the game, this section comes immediately after Joel's fall and unconsciousness. The entire section with Riley and Ellie panicking was DLC, meaning the original flow of the story does not provide you with that context, and you might miss it entirely. Instead, the game cuts to black as Joel goes unsconscious with Ellie pleading above him-

and you get the title card. WINTER. It was not winter before. And you are Ellie, hunting. You have been playing this whole game as Joel thus far, and you suddenly, after all that chaos, are Ellie. Hunting in a white blanketed forest. Lighter, quieter, agile and a far cry from the girl yelling, panicked, above Joel.

And this Ellie is capable, at hunting- she already has a rabbit or two, and has just shot another- when she spots the deer, she has some idea of how to track and take it down (hindered mostly by us, the player, adjusting to controlling her). Until the encounter with David, where Ellie asks a little desperately about medicine, you have no inkling on if Joel is even alive, and Ellie being so capable is almost its own negative indicator. As the section wears on, Ellie does a lot more killing in game than she does here- she stabs a nonzero amount of clickers, zombies, and people in the neck during various navigation and escape scenes, shoots the rifle and the bow (miss u bow) with her own kind of proficiency, and reflects many things you have to assume she learned from Joel. The game medium lends itself well to a certain level of capability, of course- even for 14 year olds with bloodied hands.

While the hard cuts to black provide a gut punch I do miss a bit, getting rid of those allows the show to fill in some gaps- especially about these characters in their weak moments, low moments, after the dust has settled and they need to pick themselves up again. It does a lot in humanizing them. Shows them rattled and uncertain and shaken and mourning, instead of dropping us back in after they've picked back up their broken pieces, given the dignity of speculation.

Ellie, especially, is more scared here- more uncertain, more shaky, playacting as Joel rather than successfully emulating him. There is no hard cut where we get to assume Ellie has scraped things together and settled in it. We see her fear, playing out, see her desperation firsthand, before she even sets back out. She is so young. She was young, in the game too, but it is driven home in new and more intense ways, here. She is so profoundly out of her depth.

The uncertainty makes these same victories hit harder, too. Ellie, terrified and horrified and angry, sassing back. Ellie with realization and fear dawning- making the play for the keys, snapping his finger. "Tell them Ellie is the little girl who broke your fucking finger." Ellie, telling him- I'm infected, and now you are too. So many of these lines and scenes are almost verbatim, but it lands differently, with this different context, with an Ellie who is much less sure but still so lethal.

Less, and more. David's entire Fucking Pedophile Shit deal was much less prominent, in game. The overtness of it made things so much worse. So much scarier. Bella's delivery of Ellie's yells and reactions carry an edge of panic, of fear, of raw emotion, brings a scene that was always at 150% up to 300%, until Ellie, screaming, swinging down the knife is an almost physical, visceral catharsis.

In the game, Joel finds here there- pulls her off, pulls her into a hug after she fights him for a moment, the music swelling to give their words to each other privacy as they lock gazes and speak. Here- Ellie pulls herself back to reality. She finishes her catharsis. She realizes, on her own, face spattered with blood, what she's done. She stumbles from the smoke to the clean outside under her own power, on her own.

When Joel grabs her- she fights, there is such audible rage and horror and fear, and it hurts more, it cuts deeper, understanding that fear, the depth of it. Before he spins her around, and the comfort scene is only half a minute longer, but there is so much more to it- more that led up to it, and more in the moment, of Ellie's gaze going from panicked to unbelieving to weak with relief to something heavier.

So few cut aways in the show. no dignity of a timeskip and implied fractures, just bleeding characters, holding onto each other in the snow.

#this is allegedly a meta but mostly for me to store my love 4 the winter sequence and capture my thoughts right after the ep #sysfandoming #tlou #the last of us #the last of hs hbo #tlou spoilers #the last of us spoilers #the last of hs hbo spoilers #tlou hbo #idk how to tag this #hmmmmmm.#tlou episode 8 #WHAT AN EPISODE!!! HOT DAMN! WILL REWATCH ONCE I'M SURE I'LL SURVIVE IT.

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pianostarinwonderland · 1 year

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hi! i read the Azul Ashengrotto Thoughts rb and it made me remember smth i thought about last night. i think your idea about "if azul is stronger/better at magic (than jade) then he can bypass the 'once per person' limitation" is more likely than what i thought but

on the contrary if he might not have been good enough to bypass the limitation, do you think jade's uhhh-- history (? im sorry i dont know the right word!!) would apply to him? like lets say jade successfully uses it on octa mob A then transfers it to azul. would azul still be able to use it on octa mob A or not bc it was "already used once on someone"

(this made me wonder something else about whether jade has used his UM on floyd yet. idk if it would have even been successful if he tried but if he did, could he have like. tested it out on him for fun or learned he got his UM unknowingly by accidentally using it on floyd? or would he have avoided trying to use it on floyd when he realized what his UM was because maybe "it could be useful in the future" or "i dont have a need or want to use this on my brother". this is just a baseless idea i thought of jshdjashjaj)

this is one more random question if you don't mind but!! if u haven't answered this before, do u have a favourite twisted tsumtsum? :D

thank you for listening to my ask lajdkhds !!!! have a wonderful day!

[Reply to here!]

you know, anon..............

THOSE ARE SUCH GOOD QUESTIONS

WTFFFFF I NEVER THOUGHT OF THOSE, AND I CAN'T BELIEVE I'D ACTUALLY GET TO READ THIS THREE YEARS AFTER I MADE THE POST SOBSOBSOBSOB

do you think jade's uhhh-- history (? im sorry i dont know the right word!!) would apply to him? like lets say jade successfully uses it on octa mob A then transfers it to azul. would azul still be able to use it on octa mob A or not bc it was "already used once on someone"

Man, this .. this is so interesting, I never even considered that the history of one's magic can be a possible factor. To this, I think that Azul steals the ability but the "history" is not applied. Probably because what Azul gets is really just the ability and not anything about its history. Like, for example, someone had to develop their abilities of course. Azul would probably not "feel" that history in the sense that he wouldn't really "feel" the difficulties or other things that the original user went through to polish their ability to what it is. He just has their ability now. So maybe theoretically, with Jade's UM, he can use the UM on Octa mob A if Jade used it on him again. And also, it's Azul's magic, not Jade's. So maybe the person will block out Jade's magic, but it does not recognize Azul's magic.

But if assuming that he can't bypass the limitation, then yea I don't think that he'd be able to use it on Octa mob A twice.

!! It's always been an hc of mine that Jade used his UM on Floyd at some point! And that's how he even found out about his limitations. Not sure what moment exactly would have gotten him to unlock that kind of ability, because from what we see in main story, UMs just suddenly kinda appear when someone is in a particularly stressful moment (like Deuce with the thugs in chapter 5 and Epel with the rogue Charons in chapter 6). Either way, unless they really fought a lot as kids, I don't think his first target was Floyd. But definitely Floyd witnessed him forming the UM, and then volunteered himself to be a practice dummy for Jade. And then they just learned from there.

#twisted wonderland #twst #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #floyd leech #twst theory #ask

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skylarstark4826 · 6 months

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“Tu'ux yaan???” Where is it???

Young Ch’ah Toh Almehen frantically searches through his stacks of belongings, where could it be?

His sketchbook. His seashell-shaped sketchbook!

The one Na’ made for him years ago, when he started to show interest in drawing when he was young.

His everything is in there! His sketches, new ideas and innovations, mathematical calculations of the size of the sun, names for the newborn whale calves, drawings of layout for their new market, sketches of water lilies, English that he’s planning to learn, latest training plans and formations, Na’s recipes!

Ch’ah scratches his head in frustration, he sighs and feels like giving up for a second. Watching the flow of the current leading to the outside of his room, a sudden inspiration struck him.

Could it have been washed away by the water and carried away somewhere else?

Ch’ah hurriedly went to check. Following the current, he passes by his mother and aunts. His mother, Fen looks at him with a smile and asks,

“Tu'ux a biin áalkab, yaabilaj?” Where are you rushing off to, sweetheart?

“Yaan in kaxtik in cuaderno bocetos ti', na', u sido arrastrado tumen le sáasilo'.. Séeb in suut.” I'm going to find my sketchbook, Mother, it’s been washed away by the current. I'll be back soon.

Ch’ah lingers awhile more before leaving, gazing tenderly at his mother with silvery hair, she smiles dotingly at him and he reassures her once again, smiling.

“Suut séeb”. I’ll be back soon.

And off he went, drifting with the water. The flow was swift, and soon he found himself in the place that his mother often talked about - the surface.

Young Shuri paces by the beach, looking towards the sea and back to her new-found sketchbook. Engrossed, she writes and sketches away, forgetting the world.

But she didn’t forget what she’s here for.

She’s waiting for the owner of this pretty seashell sketchbook to show up and return it.

And maybe they could be friends too.

A few days ago by the shore

Shuri ran away in jubilation after she successfully pranked T’Challa into trying her new invention.

Now, his hair was braided with super sticky vibranium-made magnet strips that stuck and sucked everything, his head now adorned with various gadgets, roaring to spank her!

Of course, she ran, as fast as she could! Wait until T’Challa calms down and she’ll go back~ Gonna seek the support of their parents, explaining that her brother got stuck with gadgets on his head because he disturbed her during her experiment!

Shuri giggled happily while sinking her feet into the moist and warm sands, she started picking some seashells along the beach, and soon, she found a seashell that stood out the most from others.

It was a seashell coloured in majority cream-white but with soft red and pink hues. It was bulky, unlike the others. She immediately puts down the other seashells she picked along the shore, examining this outstanding shell.

It was pretty… and it looked yummy.

Who left a thick vanilla-filled seashell-shaped cookie on the beach??????? But…

Little Shuri thought for a moment, looked around, and tentatively took a bite. Hard. Was it a seashell-shaped white chocolate?

She bit harder, but it remained unyielding!

…Alright, it's hard, not a cookie or chocolate, but a real seashell—

Shuri spat out the sand and then looked around, she giggled in relief. Fortunately, no one saw her foolish behaviour. It would be embarrassing if her brother witnessed it. T’Challa would call her dumb!

She cleaned off the seashell and only then discovered another mystery! Layers of vanilla filling under the sunlight!

This time, Shuri used her fingers to dig it open, and then she discovered a whole new world—

Mesmerized, she carefully flipped through the vanilla pages, it’s not just any seashell, it’s a seashell-shaped sketchbook! And with sketches, drawings and symbols filled in it, this definitely belongs to someone else…

Shuri looked from one end of the shore to the other, she didn’t bump into anyone who was looking for this precious little thing.

Watching as the sun goes down and T’Challa should’ve calmed down by now, and before the Dora Milaje came looking for her, she cradled the seashell sketchbook preciously to her tummy and ran back home. Making up her mind along the way with every little step, Shuri decided to come back tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, and so on, until she returned the seashell sketchbook to its owner.

Back to present

Shuri enthusiastically writes and sketches in the seashell sketchbook, creating her entry on a new page starting with her name, Shuri, as the first page like the owner.

After she returned home, she scanned the symbols that she couldn't understand using T’Challa’s technology. She deciphered it and found a match in a language called Yucatec Maya. A language she never heard of.

For the past few days, she casually skimmed through most of them, respecting the owner's privacy and content. After all, it belonged to someone else.

What caught her eye the most, however, was the owner of the sketchbook attempting to calculate the size of the… sun? If she was translating correctly…

Was the owner trying to create the sun?

It seemed impractical since there's only one sun, duh~ So, taking matters into her own hands like the boss she is, Shuri drew her sketches and thoughts, sharing her calculations and all the information about the real sun. The pages were filled with her innocent, expressive and endearing handwriting, in contrast to the owner’s handwriting which was a lot steadier but still childlike too.

Shuri was sure that the owner didn’t mind and for sure will feel her through her writing. Her pages were filled with her childish handwriting, but the sincerity and warmth were palpable.

Shuri wondered if, in return, the owner of the seashell sketchbook would make a similar sketchbook for her as a token of gratitude, thanking her for keeping their sketchbook so safe?

Perhaps they would agree? She hopes so. Shuri looked at the bite marks on the seashell… and hoped the owner wouldn't… notice…

But as Shuri carefully read through her meticulously written arithmetic and ensured everything was correct, the sunset illuminated the rough, milky paper, casting a golden glow as the reflection of her orange silhouette reflected on it.

Shuri feels a slight disappointment. No one had come today either, and it was time to leave before the guards or T’Challa came to look for her. She looks towards the sea one last tim—

Shuri froze in place.

…She hadn't noticed when a soaking wet boy had quietly stood in front of her.

He stood there, captivated by her with a focused expression.

Shuri swallows nervously. Where did he come from?

A boy, almost the same height as her, with an equally slender and delicate physique, gazing at her, fixated.

Perhaps both of them thought they were hallucinating as they finally blinked at each other— Wait, no, the other person was still there…

Shuri purses her lips. Should she say hello????

"Um, hi," she shyly smiles, waving the hand that held the seashell sketchbook. Layers of light and shadow play on her contours as she moves.

Ch’ah stares at her, and the glaring hues of the sunset can't even compare to the clarity and brightness in her eyes.

A sweet, shy smile adorned her lips, accompanied by a fleeting but brief glimpse of fear, quickly overshadowed by the courage and determination she shouldn't have had at her age.

Ch’ah Toh Almehen swears he has never felt this way before.

His entire heart was swept away by the girl before him.

It’s too late.

There was no turning back.

Shuri awkwardly set down her hand, gazing down at her feet washed by the gentle waves. Why didn't he greet her? Did she stare at him rudely for too long? No?

“Mina,” his voice came like a breeze, eliciting a surprised look from Shuri as she raised her head. Although she couldn't understand what he said, but…

The boy smiles at her…

He smiled at her.

Gone was the stunned expression, replaced by a cute smile playing on his lips, his eyes sparkled with amusement. His eyebrows curved, his cute nose charmingly wrinkled, and his lips lifted with infinite satisfaction and tenderness— a gentle and proud smile. His shining brown eyes were illuminated by the blazing sunset, casting her silhouette in his eyes.

So beautifully brown...

Shuri gazes at his deep yet tender features, thinking that he would surely be breathtakingly handsome when he grew up…

As he looks at her with eyes full of curiosity, his gaze slowly shifts, and she follows it, looking at the seashell sketchbook in her hand.

Shuri joyfully tilts her head, beaming at him with a radiant smile, almost jumping. With excitement, she confidently held out the sketchbook to him, asking in a determined tone,

"Yours?"

“In tia'al,” he whispers. It's mine.

Ch’ah takes it, gently stroking his seashell sketchbook. Luckily, he found it, and it seemed like he had found… another person who would become as important to him as home and family.

Shuri nods in satisfaction, happy to return the sketchbook to its owner, and she asks something else, "Is your name perhaps…"

"Nkosazana!" Princess! Several footsteps approaching where they are.

Shuri turned to see the guards coming to find her, she stomped on her foot in frustration, turning back around to face the boy, intending to ask the boy his name—

He was gone. He left.

Great, now she was even more annoyed. Shuri pouts sadly, her face full of regret.

He didn't even say thank you!!!

In the end, Shuri obediently followed the adults back home, thinking maybe she would come back tomorrow to see if she could meet him again.

To ask if his name is…

The name is translated from the symbols on the first page of the seashell sketchbook.

ch’ah toh almehen

Ch’ah rushes back home, eager to tell Mother that he met a girl from the surface nation she always told him about.

“Na’-”

“In ajawo’.” My King.

He looks at the servants in confusion and them anxiously surrounding his home. Immediately alert, Ch’ah tensed as to what had happened when he was away briefly. He enters to greet his mother, who is sitting by the hammock, reaching out to touch his cheek when he kneels before her.

“In chan paalo’, in k'iin ku nats'a'al....” My baby, my time is approaching…

Ch’ah’s heart sinks.

No.

These days, he spent day and night by his mother's side, staying with her, keeping her company, talking to her, with endless things he wanted to tell her, expressing words he couldn't fully convey.

He told her about the girl he met on the surface, and his mother encouraged him, saying it was good and urging him to be friends with her.

He showed her the sketch of the sun from his sketchbook, assuring her that he would bring the sun to their people. She agreed, expressing her belief in his capabilities. He said he would start right away, he could make it in time… he could—

Fen reaches out to cradle his cheek, wiping away his tears tenderly.

“Ch’ah, ti' ka' kíimil, na'atik in ti' le lu'umo' k patria wáaj u k'aax t'aanil.”

“Je'el na', ba'alake' ba'ax a'alik, teech ka prometo.”

-Ch’ah, after I pass away, bury me in the soil of our homeland, alright?-

…

-Yes, Mother, anything you say, I promise you.-

He stands on the edge.

So young and hopeless.

Got demons in his head.

No ground beneath his feet.

Mother was no longer there

to hold him.

Ch’ah Toh Almehen went to the surface

to bury his mother

in the soil of her homeland,

…

and what returned was Namor.

Shuri never met the boy ever again.

20 years later

“Auntie! Look what I found on the beach! At first, I thought it was a cookie because it looked so yummy!!!! Turns out it was a real seashell! I even took a bite to be sure and it was so hard! I was so dumb! Please don’t tell Baba and Mama about this…”

The adorable babbling of her nephew wakes Shuri from her light nap, and she, somewhat annoyed, scoops him up into her arms, squeezing him as he happily squeals.

Shuri rubbed her eyes, and her nephew's cute murmurs struck her chest like a heavy blow, stirring up memories long dormant.

Seashell? Cookie? Tasty? Bite? Very hard? Silly and stupid?

Why did each sentence feel so familiar?

Wasn't there someone, a fool, who did something like this once upon a time?

Shuri finally yawned herself awake and extended her hand towards Toussaint, asking, "What's this about a delicious-looking seashell cookie but it was a fake and turns out it's a really hard seashell you tried to bite? …So, did you ruin your teeth?"

“No, Auntie! I didn’t!”

Shuri felt as her little spoiled nephew placed a light and airy seashell into her hand…

…No, that's not right. In her memories, it was weighty.

Shuri stares at it, her heart certain.

The seemingly dreamlike interaction from years ago was real.

How could the seashell sketchbook she picked up in the past suddenly reappear before her eyes?

“You found it at the beach?”

“Yep, Auntie, it was washed up to the shore… it looked pretty… so I picked it up… for you… it looks like… something… you would… love…”

The lively and active little one who was just babbling a moment ago melted in his aunt’s arms, drifting into the clouds. Was her embrace this comforting? Shuri smiled sweetly.

She carries Toussaint back to his room and settles him down, looking at his little sweet face, which reminds her of her brother.

Things have become busier lately, the Americans and France are on it again. Going after their vibranium. No fun.

Her brother and sister-in-law, T’Challa and Nakia went on a mission together, her Mother, Queen Mother Ramonda is managing the nation, and she, the Princess of Wakanda, was supposed to be in her lab, backing them up.

However, they entrusted her with the important task of taking care of the little one, so she came.

Shuri makes sure Toussaint is sound asleep before slowly closing the door. She looks forward to sharing his embarrassing little moment with T’Challa and Nakia when they return, hahahahahahahaha—

Returning to the living room, Shuri tidies up her belongings, her holographic tablet and the seashell sketchbook.

Taking a deep breath, she picks it up and flips it open to peek, revealing her childhood handwriting.

Shuri curses under her breath.

She grabs a jacket, tucks the haunting seashell into her pocket, ensuring the house's defense systems are fully activated, and then strolls away towards the beach.

The sun is setting.

This whole thing is so fishy that not even Bast would believe it.

Ch’ah thought he could make it.

…

He thought he could make it in time.

To bring the sun to his mother.

…

He couldn’t.

It was too late.

…

But Namor made it.

Many years later, as Namor flips through the perfectly preserved sketchbook with a heavy heart full of nostalgia, he discovers the naive handwriting and sketches that didn't belong to him.

Namor stares blankly at the childish handwriting and messy yet clear lines on the sketchbook, vivid and understandable. Pages were filled with various knowledge about the sun. From sentences to paragraphs, from drawings to diagrams. His fingers trace the sketches, following the lines and the innocent handwriting stirred the memories buried deep in his subconscious.

The girl.

After losing his mother, he was engulfed in endless darkness, unable to recall the brief light. Let alone reaching out to the girl again.

She was from the surface world.

But his mother, like soothing waves, gently pushed him forward, giving him eternal faith.

The girl that he briefly encountered gave him endless strength with her tireless writing and overly detailed sketches, nudging him soft yet strong to move forward.

Soon, Namor brought the sun to his people, his home, Talokan.

His fingers gently caress the page that marked the end and beginning for both him and her.

Namor’s fingers tenderly trace her name, longing to meet her again.

Shuri

The orange-red ray of the sunset envelopes Shuri, making her glow.

With great interest, she flips through the small sketchbook, now only the size of her palm. As she flipped to the last page that she had written approximately 20 years ago, behind her sketch was the next page, and she found the owner's handwriting again.

The same symbols that she didn't understand unless she had GRIOT with her were now mixed with some English words. Quickly, Shuri could understand everything he wrote, sketches and all his thoughts and creations effortlessly.

Shuri read with gusto, evidently not concerned about someone blocking her sunset light as the observer watched her with immense amusement.

Namor stares and stares as not even the lingering warmth of the sunset could compare to the radiant and pure smile shining on her face.

Shuri continued reading without lifting her head, then calmly spoke, acknowledging his presence.

“You didn’t say your thanks, nor return a gift after I’ve been helping you safe keeping that sketchbook of yours, someone would’ve…” claim as their own.

Shuri finally lifts her head while teasing the… man. She silently observes him from head to toe. Well, he sure looks ain’t entirely human to her with those elf ears and wings on his feet. He still has those unique earrings of his, his beautiful nose now pierced with a septum…

The boy from the past and the man before her overlapped.

His sculpted features made Shuri momentarily lose herself.

The same smile playing on his lips, the same eyebrows cocking smugly, the same nose charmingly wrinkled, the same, soft lips—

His gleaming brown eyes light up by the ablaze sunset, casting her silhouette in his eyes.

The same beautiful brown... Shuri gazes at his deep yet tender features… She said he would surely be breathtakingly handsome when he grew up.

Wasn't she right?

Shuri stares and stares, at some point, she sighs dreamily.

The man seemed to have witnessed some beautiful miracle happening before his eyes and exhaled the breath he knew he was holding all along, murmuring to her.

He murmurs tenderly to her as if from another time, like a dream. Unreal.

“Mina.”

His voice echoes like a breeze, a seductive serenade like that of a mermaid, a siren call. Captivating enough to startle her momentarily.

Stepping back, Shuri instinctively clutches her arm around her rumbling abdomen while skillfully tossing the little sketchbook up and down in her hand, defiantly meeting his gaze with a smile that is challenging boldly.

“Yours?”

She eyes slyly at him, but there was full of teasing mischief in his eyes too. Shuri curses under her breath again. He definitely could understand what she said, but she couldn't comprehend his words.

She stopped tossing the sketchbook, holding it out to him, done playing. As he approaches, water drips incessantly from his mouth-watering body onto the sand. Her eyes widen slightly, and Shuri stops herself from whistling.

Watching him rake back his damp hair, droplets cascade down his forehead, sliding over his deep eyes, down his prominent nose, embracing his cheekbones, reaching his parted lips, sliding along his jaw, flowing into his beard, and trailing down his chin, glistening drops by drops landing on her delicate feet.

Taking a deep breath, Shuri swallows and kindly reminds him, "If you lost it again for the third time, it might not be as lucky anymore." She watched him reach out to take his seashell sketchbook, she reached it out too, finally getting rid of it. “By the way, I still—” don’t know what you’ve said.

Namor’s outstretched hand skimmed past the sketchbook that belonged to him, grasping her wrist instead. He gently tugs her towards him, pledging an oath,

“Mine.”

…

Shuri didn't know if it was his impactful "mine" or if he had stealthily leaned in, gently kissing her, his longing sigh lingers on her lips,

turning her world upside down.

It led her, almost involuntarily, to lift her arms, entwining them around his neck, kissing him back.

Shuri, too, sighed blissfully into his mouth, feeling like she could forgive his sudden and bold kiss for now.

And thus, under the setting sun, they embraced, kissing fervently, and fell into each other's arms.

Shuri gasps and clings to him, their bodies trembling intensely as if trying to melt into each other. Gasping for breath, she tilted her head back, leaving only half a centimeter between her lips and his to only feel like she couldn't breathe without his kisses.

Soon, without needing her to tiptoe, Namor firmly presses her head while embracing her entirely, once again tilting his head, leaning and diving deeper to savour her lips delicately, inviting her tongue to tango with his.

Shuri couldn't help but moan in his mouth with abandon, his repeated gentle yet assertive kisses making her toes curl with a tingling sensation, her body pressing against his, burning up together, feeling dizzy and exhilarated.

It was as if they were about to take flight.

Namor finally gave her one last lingering and intense kiss, sucking on her tongue for the last time before pulling away. Both of them press their foreheads together, desperately catching their breaths. Shuri was devoured to the brink of tears, her cheeks flushed, cradling his face breathlessly, breathing and whimpering on his lips.

“Breathe- in yaakunaj—” my love, “—breathe, shhh…”

He, too, struggling for breath, started to softly comfort her, trailing kisses along her forehead, her eyes, and her cute nose. Patting her back, he nuzzles her face tenderly, kissing away the tears that slip down her cheeks.

Namor contentedly held her entire body in his arms, embracing his girl tightly, having infinite reassurance.

Shuri realized with a start that… she was passionately kissing a stranger!!!! Her face burns further, hot enough to cook an egg. She buries her face in the crook of his neck, frustratedly slapping his strong shoulders, attempting to calm down. But Shuri finds it challenging more than anything she encountered.

The heartbeat resonating from his bare chest to hers was like a curse, making her wildly pounding heart impossible to cease.

Namor chuckles softly in her ear, sending her heart racing even quicker while he continues to pat her back, also attempting to calm his racing heart, with little success.

“Hmph.” She's not so easily underestimated!

It was then that Shuri remembered the sketchbook she had been holding in her hand. Fortunately, the shell was hard enough! Otherwise, she might have crushed it long ago.

Finally, after catching her breath, she asks, “I still—” don’t know if I had pronounced your name right all these years. Shuri interrupts herself, thinking there’s a better way. Reluctantly leaving his embrace, the two remain standing close together.

And this man really didn't give her any breathing space!!!!! He leans in again, tirelessly rubbing his forehead against hers and giving tender kisses.

Shuri fumbles so hard to open the damn sketchbook, resisting crashing her mouth to his again.

In the end, he helped her steady her hand, and once it was stable, she finally opened it. She realized she had turned it around. Without hesitation, Shuri turns it around, flips to the first page with his name on it, thrusts the sketchbook to his stupid breathtaking face and clears her throat, pronouncing with her best accent in her life,

“Chaahtaeh Almeheiiin?”

…

Shuri swears she didn’t get it right when Chaahtaeh shakes his head in defeat, eyeing her in glee.

And he graciously pronounces it for her.

“Ch’ah Toh Almehen.”

“For Bast’s sake…” Shuri swears that what she just pronounced sounded nothing like the name he pronounced.

She clears her throat loudly again, attempting to mimic him but… already forgot.

Shuri looks at him unapologetically, smiling sheepishly, and humbly asks, “Again?”

In defeat, Namor patiently repeated his name for her.

Alright, she got it!!!

“...Ch-ah Toh… Al-me-hen?”

But even when Shuri said it, it didn't sound very confident, stumbling over the pronunciation.

But when his eyes lit up, happily smiling at her with the corner of his mouth curved upwards to the sky and his ears and wings fluttering, Shuri felt more reassured with each attempt.

“Ch’ah Toh Almehen?” She pronounces again, “Ch’ah Toh Almehen—” again, “Ch’ah Toh Almehen,” she’s freakin’ smooth now, “Ch’ah Toh Almehen!” Shuri feels like she’s summoning an ancient being now.

Namor chuckles as he gazes sweetly at her, his eyes filled with warmth and longing. It had been a long time since someone called him like that. Finally, he couldn't help but interrupt and tell her the truth. He reaches out to cradle her face, caressing tenderly, and telling her everything.

“I have many names. My people call me K’uk’ulkan… And my enemies call me Namor… But in yaakunaj, my love… ” Namor watched as her eyes lit up at what he had called her,

“You can call me Ch’ah.”

…

“How are three names many names???” Shuri mocks playfully, ready for a comeback. She wouldn't let someone who merely kissed her address her with such an intimate term as if they were lifelong lovers in their every single past lives.

“Shuri.”

…

…He called her name.

How did he know... Oh, Shuri remembered. She copied him back then, writing her name on the first page that she continued after his last page.

Ch’ah’s tone was helpless yet filled with an indulgent warning, making her stomach churn.

“Mina,” his voice came like a breeze.

But the way Ch’ah pronounces her name, so affectionate and familiar, almost as if he had called her name tens of thousands of times, a million times— no, approximately 1018 times with those lips of his—

Ch’ah’s voice came again. Calling her home like a gentle breeze.

“Mine.” You’re mine.

And Shuri knew at that moment…

It’s too late.

There was no turning back.

The rest was history.

Namor confronted T’Challa, King of Wakanda about how the American military detected vibranium under his nation’s domain. They needed Wakanda’s help to prevent it from happening again.

“You have exposed the power of vibranium to the world. Your choice has compromised us. They are coming for us. It is only fair that Wakanda helps to resolve our dilemma.”

“We need to find a peaceful way to resolve this.” Shuri knew things were not needed to go this far. It will be a war.

But Namor needed them to know, “I need to know if Wakanda is an ally or an enemy. There is no in-between. If we make an alliance, we can protect each other by striking them first.”

With a stern look, T’Challa asked, “And if Wakanda does not accept, what then?”

“The scientist will die and Wakanda will be the first nation to fall. And I want you to know, Wakanda cannot win a war with Talokan.”

T’Challa and Shuri looked at each other, knowing each other's answers.

Shuri looked back to Namor, standing tall, “With the Black Panther—”

“We’d love to see you try.” T’Challa’s unwavering gaze and resolute voice echo.

Namor looked at him, at Shuri, and smiled.

A few years later

Namor’s palm gently pats her back in a soothing force, luring his beloved wife to sleep…

“BABAAAAAA—!!! RAYRAY ATE MY BOOKIE!!!!”

Before that little angel in disguise of theirs comes squeaking at the top of her lungs, demanding her parent’s attention immediately.

“Bast…” Shuri grunts and hides her face in her husband’s chest, curling into a ball on his lap, shutting everything off, letting Namor face the little “devil” alone.

Namor helplessly smiles and makes a shushing finger at their 3-year-old daughter, “Shhhh, in chan paalo’, Mama is sleeping…”

“No, she’s not! Mama is peeking!!” Their daughter, Siphosihle, Princess of Talokan, heartlessly exposes her mother, leaving Shuri no choice but to chuckle helplessly in Namor’s arms.

“Sihle, Mama told you not to casually expose others' shortcomings, haven't I?” Shuri grins as she looks at their daughter, feeling his chest trembling with suppressed laughter.

“But Mama, Rayray ate my bookie!!!” Sihle skips over to them in a few bounces, hugging her Baba’s leg.

“Your bookie or cookie?” Her Baba asks.

“Ah! My kookie!” Namor knew it. “But my bookie is gone too!” Poor Rayray, Sihle’s pet stingray taking the blame for the fourth time this week.

“Now I only have one kookie left, not enough to share!" Sihle pulled out her cookie which was slightly bigger than the size of her little palm from her pocket, a seashell-shaped one – a real cookie he made for their daughter. The cookie already had a bite taken, Namor and Shuri weren't sure how she planned to share…

“All right,” Namor takes Sihle’s cookie, brings it to Shuri’s mouth, and she knowingly bit off half, savouring the sweet vanilla and soft white chocolate cookie, it was so sweet that it could potentially lead to cavities.

Namor then eats the remaining half of the cookie in a big bite. Her cookie was gone in a second. Brushing off his hands with cookie crumbs, Namor turns to their gaping daughter, shrugging.

“Now you have nothing to share.”

The King and Queen of Talokan eyes each other slyly, smitten, and as expected, their daughter burst into loud wails, “WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—!!!!” The entire cenote shook with her loud cries.

“You just had to tease her until she cried?” Shuri playfully slaps him in the face, amused by their daughter's dramatic crying.

“Who told her to wake you up?” Namor indulgently responds, then lovingly squeezes his crying baby girl’s cheek. "Okay, Baba was just joking with you, chan ch'úupalo…” baby girl.

“MY KOOKIEEEEYYYYYYYIWUUUUUWAAAAAAAA—”

Namor and Shuri embraced tightly, laughing hysterically together, disregarding everything. Seeing their carefree and unbothered demeanor, Sihle, who had been crying hysterically just moments ago, stopped crying and buried into her parent’s embrace, joining their laughter while wiping her tears.

“It's okay, Sihle, we were just teasing you.” Namor grins, pulling out a brand new seashell-shaped cookie from behind. He gallantly offers it to his baby girl, receiving a sweet sniffling "Tha-nk yo-u, Ba~ba~~!” from his precious daughter.

Namor carefully lifts his wife, 8-months pregnant Shuri and Sihle, placing them on their bed with numerous layers of soft cushions. He kisses his daughter's moist eyes and brows, amused yet tender.

“Don't cry, usana. Mama and Baba were just teasing you," Shuri comforts her daughter with difficulty as she tries to hold her close with her huge belly. Meanwhile, the daughter had already moved on, happily nibbling on her cookie. She then extended it towards her mother, offering a bite.

"Mama~ not only Mama likes to eat, will little brother like it too? I'll share with him when he comes out, if he plays with me… of course…"

Shuri chuckles sweetly, looking at Sihle and back to Namor, who gazed back affectionately at his princesses.

…

Namor never gets to wage the war that he always wanted to wage at the surface world.

Not when Wakanda is standing in his way. He hates to see a certain princess suffer while watching the lives of her people lost.

But war came to them instead.

T’Challa and Namor made sure that they regretted their actions, and together, as allies, they protected each other’s nations and fought for what was behind them, their home and loved ones. They fight for what they love.

When everything slowly settled down, Namor asked for a hand in marriage from the Princess of Wakanda, out of alliance.

Shuri said yes, out of love.

They indulge freely in a cozy two years of married life, just the two of them, until Shuri suddenly wants to have a child like him. It was Namor who first heard the tiny heartbeat in her belly as they crushed each other, and moved to tears.

During her pregnancy, he transformed into an obstetrician, chef, psychologist, masseur, photographer, and father who would undoubtedly spoil their child.

In the third year of their marriage, they welcomed their little princess. They raised their daughter together. And now, the little princess is three years old, and they are about to meet their little prince soon.

…

“I’m sorry to break it to you, nkosazana, but you gotta wait for your little brother to grow up a bit before he can play with you~” Shuri tells her with amusement.

“Oh, that’s good, then I can have all the kookies to myself!” How clever is their baby~

“But Mama, I lost my bookie… The one Baba made for me…” Sihle sheepishly and sadly tells Shuri, on the verge of wailing.

“Where did you last have it?” Namor knowingly asks. Sihle eyes him cheekily, “By the pool…”

“I dropped it into the pool…” Sihle grins.

“You dropped it into the pool?” Namor sighs. Facing her, he amused, “So what are you waiting for? Go get it.”

“But I don't want to get wet... but I want to draw…” Pouting and cooing, Sihle said, much like her mother.

“Come on, baby, use mine,” Shuri reached for her sketchbook and Sihle happily took it and started drawing along with her mother.

It was his, and hers too.

“Go ahead, Baba, we are waiting for you~” Shuri calls him dotingly, and Namor makes sure they are sitting properly before he goes out to retrieve their daughter's sketchbook for the umpteenth time that month, he sighs in loving defeat.

Namor paces to the pool, picking up toys along the way, picking up and setting the neatly cooked plate of cookies aside. Upon reaching the pool, he circles it, quickly finding Sihle’s seashell sketchbook. As he was about to pick it up, Rayray swiftly brought the sketchbook to him. He kneels to pet it, “Thanks, Sting, you've been a great help.” And Rayray swooshes away in happiness.

Soon, he returned with Sihle’s sketchbook and a pouch of small seashell cookies made for her. Seeing the mother and daughter still immersed in their drawing, Namor’s heart melts miserably. He places her mini sketchbook in her tiny hands and sits behind Shuri and Sihle, watching the two of them draw.

Sihle draws in the seashell sketchbook he made for her. Her bookie was a milky-white color, adorned with little stars of purple and green, the seashell had soft golden hues on it.

And what Shuri drew in was still in that cream-white seashell sketchbook with soft red and pink hues — theirs.

“This is a dolphin, Mama~”

“Dolphin~” Shuri hypes her up, even though said dolphin has three heads and six eyes.

“Look, Mama, shark!”

“Yep, that’s a great white shark indeed!” Shuri secretly smiles at the shark with a mouth of smiling teeth, how adorable.

“Mama, this is me and you!”

Shuri draws every version of the dolphin and shark Sihle mentions, perfecting her daughter’s sketch, from shaky circles and cross lines to a cool three-headed and six-eyed dolphin and a shark with smiling teeth and love eyes, but her baby’s next sketch was her favourite. Shuri looks at the drawing that was thrust to her face, “Me and you, Mama!” It was whales.

A Mama whale and her baby whale calf. Just like her and Sihle. Shuri swears that although their daughter was a handful of chaos sometimes, she was her namesake - a beautiful gift.

After witnessing the beautiful moment between mother and daughter, he didn’t want to be left out too! “Here you go, chan ch'úupalo~” Namor waves the pouch of cookies in front of her eyes and immediately, like a little kitten, Sihle lunges for it, he dodges and dodges until he lures the baby kitty to crawl onto him.

“Baba~ My kookies!!! Gimme!!!” Sihle climbs and climbs until she hangs on Namor’s face, “Mama, help! Baba is not giving me my kookies!!!” Making Shuri laugh in amazement again.

“What do you say, baby girl?” Shuri presses on her kimoyo beads and starts recording these two goofy father and daughter.

“Thank you, Baba! I love you!” Although with Sihle’s little butt blocking him, Shuri knows how smug and doting Namor is smiling there.

“Not enough~”

Sihle tried everything to get her kookies. “Baba, I’m your princess!!!”

“Yes, you are, Sihle. But your Mama is my princess, you are just my… little princess. ”

“Okay! Mama is your princess and I’m your little princess!!”

“Now we are talking~” Namor smiles in defeat, reaching out to lift the Sihle away from his face, skillfully switching to place her behind his neck and let her sit on his shoulders. The daughter immediately embraces Baba's head, her tiny ankles swaying and tickling against his facial hair, making adorable giggles.

Finally, Namor hands her the pouch of seashell cookies, and Sihle sits on his shoulders, enjoying the treats. The first piece was given to her Mama, Shuri, and then she alternated between eating and feeding her Mama, completely forgetting about her Baba.

“Hey, what about me?????” Namor protests! How dare she!

“Uh-oh! I forgot, Baba!” Sihle playfully passes a cookie in front of him with her short arms, one hitting at his forehead, one tossing at his eyes and thank Chaac Namor closes his eyes in time, another stuff in his nose, and finally, one successfully reaches his mouth.

“Look at your daughter, Shuri…” Namor complains to his wife.

“I didn’t see anything, Namor, I'm too focused on recording,” Shuri said with a proud smile, winking at her daughter and she winked back cheekily.

“I saw that, you know?” But his two girls openly ignored him, eating enthusiastically without him. Namor pouts sadly until Shuri can’t take it anymore and she feeds him with lots and lots of cookies, “Here you go~” The crunchy sound of cookies fills their cenote for quite a while.

“You want to go sink some ships, yaabilaj?” Namor teases. Sihle immediately wiggles behind him, kicking excitedly, “Let’s go sink some ships, Baba!!”

“Don’t give her ideas, Ch’ah!” Shuri facepalms, the father and daughter would venture out to the ocean and flip over ships that are mining underwater resources.

“Uh-oh, sorry, chan ch'úupalo, no sinking ships for today~” Namor informs and the little girl just pouts sadly, just like her father, but Shuri knows how to cheer her up easily.

“Didn’t you say you want to share your cookies? Now you have a whole pouch of it.” Instantly, Sihle’s brown eyes lit up, her dark curls bounced in joy, wiggling to get off her Baba’s shoulder, “Yes, Mama! I’m going to find Zuri and Nala!” Toussaint’s little brother and sister.

“Off you go~” Watching as Sihle tiptoes and plants a kiss on her Baba’s cheek, she does the same to her Mama too. Then, she looks for the big-sized seashell cookie that she ate halfway earlier, picks it up and takes a bite without hesitation.

Shuri and Namor burst into mad laughter. Sihle had picked the wrong one, it was their sketchbook.

“You didn’t tell me, Mama!!!” Sihle protested with little arms crossing, stomping at the soft quilts.

“I wonder who she got that from?” Namor teases her hard. He had noticed the bite marks on his seashell sketchbook long ago.

“Mama didn’t know which one either!!” Shuri quickly shifts the blame, “It's all your Baba’s fault, he distracted us, blame him!”

“No, don’t blame my Baba, Baba made me my sketchbook and kookies! Baba, next time remember to tell me not to bite first, remember to look first, okay!”

The way Sihle defended him just made Namor melt into a puddle of happy water. “I got it, sweetheart, Baba will remember,” he promises.

"But you won’t remember,” Sihle deadpans, learning from her parents, “All your eyes are on Mama, Baba, you forgot about me," she mutters nonchalantly, obviously jealous.

Shuri and Namor often thought their daughter was too clever for her age, a real little mischief-maker.

“That’s because I have all my eyes on you, Sihle, Mama got you covered!” Shuri reacts quickly, kissing her little cheeks.

Bast, whenever Sihle got jealous, she was totally a mini super jealous Namor throwing a tantrum!

“But Mama has all eyes on Baba too…” Sihle squints her beautiful little brown eyes, seeing through everything.

Namor beams sweetly at the accusation, then with utmost patience, he coaxes their little jealous daughter with ease.

“That’s because me and your Mama have all eyes on you together! You got four eyes when we only had two! And when Baba and Mama have all eyes on each other, you can sneak out to play with your cousins and forget to come back home for dinner, right?”

Happy to hear her Baba’s explanation, Sihle immediately grins in mischief, nodding honestly, “Right, Baba is so clever like me, hehe, I’m going to play with Nala and Zuri, bye, Mama, bye, Baba~~~” She runs away then runs back, leaving a kiss on Mama and Baba’s cheeks and also on Shuri’s baby bump, can’t miss out her little brother! And she quickly zooms away before her parents can say anything more. Sneaky little baby as Shuri watches her dash to the pool, beckoning for a ride.

“I thought you don’t want to get wet—!!” Namor tries to call for his daughter but Sihle has jumped into the water, swimming away on Rayray’s back to go look for her cousins to play with. Leaving them with splashes like a whirlwind.

“...Last week, she made Zuri and Nala cry because she scared them with lobsters… Toussaint was so helpless to stop her.” Shuri smiles and cradles her belly, feeling their son’s kicking incessantly all the time, they predicted he was going to be as handful as Sihle.

“Why am I not surprised, hmm? Maybe because I was the one who spoiled her too much, yep~” Namor caresses her belly, soothing the baby’s kicking, they both knew Sihle would be a great sister, well, they hoped. “I hope she doesn’t… bully her brother like how often she makes Zuri and Nala cry with her antics…”

“And yet they loved following behind their sisi, T’Challa and Nakia had to drag them away as well before they followed Sihle and came home to us, remember that one time they did follow Sihle and everyone freaked out? Hilarious!” Shuri reminisced when they finally found them, all full and dozing off.

“I remember. We even found them in a pile of snacks, Rayray was guarding beside them like he was worried they were too full.” Namor remembers cradling all three babies back to the surface, he almost broke his arms.

“Now I’m more worried when this little Ch’ah is born, little Shuri is gonna bring him and turn Talokan upside down.” Shuri was certain, when her daughter grew up to be more and more like her, she knew they were screwed, except Namor dotes on her even more badly because of that, because he said, “Were you like this when you were young? I love watching her making trouble, it reminds me of you. The day I met you.”

“I’m glad Ixchel blessed us, I was always afraid she might be a bit lonely,” like I was. Namor didn’t say it out loud, but Shuri understood everything, “Two is better than one, right~”

“Well, if you have come looking for me sooner, I’m sure we will have more kids by now.” Shuri caresses the seashell sketchbook that tied them together since the day she picked it up on the shore.

But Namor slips into deep thoughts, murmuring distantly…

“...When my mother… died… it feels like I lost everything. I could not bear to look at anything, every corner has her traces, I could no longer look at—” Namor strokes the back of her hand, Shuri holding his seashell sketchbook. “...I have witnessed so many births of my people, aging, illness and death, it was a circle of life… Yet I cannot see through it… nor find solace… in the waves that cradled me like my mother once did…”

He could not find peace.

Not after what he had witnessed on the surface world. His mother loved and mourned the life on land that she once knew…

But it was nothing like what she had told him.

…How heartbroken and disappointed she must be… if she saw it with her own eyes.

Listening to his gentle whispers, endless tears welled up in Shuri’s eyes, unable to suppress the overwhelming sorrow, grief and heartache she felt for Namor. Shuri dared not imagine how. How when she was disappointed that the boy on the beach never showed up again…

He was torn apart in the abyss of the sea, screaming heart-wrenching cries.

“It took me years… to come back to you, Shuri.” Namor gently brushes away her tears with his thumb, kissing away the sadness in her beautiful brown eyes, the taste of her tears breaking his heart.

“I’m sorry… it took me so long… to come back to you…”

Shuri holds him tightly, enduring each drop of his tears falling on her cheeks, she promises him.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“I got lost in the grief of losing Na’... and I forgot about you…”

“I’m not going anywhere, Namor.”

“—I told her about you… and Na’ told me to come be friends with you... She was still fine moments ago… She was—”

“I’m not going anywhere, Ch’ah, I’m not going anywhere without you from now on.” Shuri places the seashell sketchbook in Namor’s palm, then surrounds his trembling hands with hers— the same hands that always tenderly caressed her baby bump. Despite the difficulty, Shuri gently bowed her head, placing devout kisses on the back of his hands, on his knuckles, on his fingers, all of him. She helped him grasp the seashell tightly in his palm so that…

The love his mother left for him would never be lostagain.

Namor gazes at his beloved as Shuri plants one kiss after another on his hands, and in that moment, the shattered pieces of his heart and the endless grief and loss in him all these years have finally found a home.

He belonged with her. Namor knew it long ago.

He tilts Shuri’s chin up gently, trembling lips meeting her quivering ones.

When they had tasted every tear of sorrow, only tears of solace remained.

Namor kisses his way up, finally landing a firm kiss on her forehead— with infinite tenderness comes infinitely devotion, belonging and love.

They held each other tightly, thankful that their daughter had gone out to play; otherwise, Sihle would have been scared to death.

“Our reunion was no coincidence…” Shuri didn’t know that a fishy seashell would change her life one day.

“It was my courage to come for you.” And Namor would tell her this, over and over again.

“...In the depths of the ocean, I brought the sun to my people…” Shuri listens to his gradually steady heartbeat as Namor murmurs, she smiles when he kisses her again and utters softly on her lips, “My sun.” And kissing her baby bump, “My two little stars. My sun and stars.”

“Sihle is more like a meteorite than a shooting star.” Shuri couldn’t help but jest oh so smoothly.

Namor couldn’t agree more. “She’s an unstoppable little ball of fire that no matter how big the waves are, they can't extinguish her.”

The proud and beaming expression on Namor’s face when talking about their daughter is one of Shuri’s favourite sights.

“Soon enough she’s going to ask us to make a ship with a big shark smile that can dive, fly, and blow bubbles for her…” Shuri thinks Sihle got that creativity from her.

“She told you that? She knows we make anything for her, doesn't she?” Namor amuses, chuckling while shaking his head in defeat.

“Yep, she did. Saying she’s gonna fly it with Toussaint, Zuri and Nala to scare away some fishy people.” Shuri can imagine that already. It’s gonna be so fun.

“That’s my girl.” Namor chuckles proudly, lowering his head to caress the seashell sketchbook in his hands, feeling its texture and weight. It’s still as heavy as he remembered. He places the precious sketchbook into Shuri’s hands, bringing her wrist that tied with his mother’s bracelet to his lips, kissing it gently, reminiscing with a gaze full of longing,

“My mother made it for me… That’s why I was looking for it… That’s how I met you.” Namor knows that his mother, Fen would be happy for him for the life he has now. With loved ones.

Shuri beams in understanding, “And you made one for Sihle.”

“We made one for Sihle.” We. How beautiful it sounds.

Shuri cradles the seashell with care. His mother’s memories will live on, and on, and on. In them. In their children. “Think you better catch up and make a new one before this little one grows up too fast and has that same artistic sense just like his Baba, Mama and Sisi.”

Namor pulls her into his embrace, letting Shuri lean all her weight on him, safe and sound. “I was thinking about blue… and white.” The sky. The ocean.

“Blue and white sounds just perfect to me.” Shuri tosses the seashell sketchbook in her hand, remembering the day she met him has a very blue sky and she…

Leaning against him, Shuri comfortably nestles in the curve of Namor’s arm. With just a slight lift of her head, she could easily steal a few kisses.

She reaches out her hand, holding the seashell sketchbook up to him, and asks triumphantly,

“Yours?”

Namor chuckles affectionately,

“Yours.”

Hooking her arms around his neck, Shuri kisses the corner of his mouth, brimming with mischief and love, she whispers with adoration, “Say it again.”

He tilts his head to meet her, sharing a smug smile as he tightens his grip, ensuring she stays forever in his arms. As he tenderly gave Shuri the kiss she had longed for. With devotion, Namor whispers,

“Yours.” I’m yours. Forever.

The End.

💜🐍🐈⬛💚 Little bonus 🪽🐚🌊❤️

“Run, in bebés, run to your Mama for me~” Namor nudges them to be his ever-loyal messengers as he watches his babies dash across the beach, running to their mother on the other side.

6-year-old Sihle holding hands with her 3-year-old little brother, Sitha, running in full speed towards their Mama, Shuri, who was waiting for them by sitting on the beach, grinning as she watched them zooming to her.

She catches them both fully, kissing her beautiful girl. And her baby boy, like his namesake, light. He had brought more light into their little family, just like his sister.

“Mama! Baba said you must write back to him!” Sitha squeaks at her with excitement, waving the seashell sketchbook with soft red and pink hues.

“Quick, Mama! Baba is waiting!” Sihle urges her, dancing with her brother.

Shuri laughed and flipped open the sketchbook, flipping to the latest page, she saw he had written:

🐚 Are you still angry at me?🐚

She huffs and writes her reply, then gives it back to her babies, “Mama’s done, run along now~” Sihle and Sitha sprint back to their father by the water, his eyes lit up when he sees them running back to him. Sihle tosses the seashell to him, almost hitting his face.

“Ouch-” But Namor couldn’t care less and eagerly flips to the latest page, checking for her reply as Shuri had written:

🐚 YES🐚

Namor giggles as the children jump into his embrace, all three of them babbling non-stop.

“Baba! What did you do to make Mama angry!” Sihle amuses.

“Baba! Mama waiting! Quick!” Sitha was eager to run back to his Mama already, it was a fun race!

“I forgot to give her a morning kiss when I was busy snuggling with you two! Now Mama’s angry.” Namor shamelessly shifts the blame to their babies.

“Easy! Baba! Easy! Give Mama a kiss!” Sitha doesn't get why that is a problem in the first place!

“Times up, Baba! Are you done yet???” Sihle takes the seashell from her Baba’s hand and rushes away with Sitha again, with Namor yelling at the back, “No peeking!”

They both go, “Okayyyyy—!” Bolting towards their Mama.

Shuri mumbles when it’s taking forever as she squints her eyes at the other side, watching as the trio have small talks without her, hmph! In truth, they were only a few hundred meters away from her. She didn’t need to eavesdrop because of how loud they were babbling.

Soon, the children rush into her arms and Shuri takes the sketchbook, precisely flipping it open to read the words written beneath hers:

🐚 As an apology, please sit on my face tonight🐚

Shuri cocks her eyebrows towards him in the distance, watching as Namor flashes his most proud, delighted and smug smile she had ever seen, making her blush and wet and heart racing at the same time.

Shuri secretly flutters hard, thinking it was about time for the third baby they both wanted for some time now.

Suppressing her cheeky smile, Shuri quickly writes her response and hands it to the children, saying, “Thank you, my Sihle and Sitha,” and kisses each of their little faces. They gasp in disbelief,

“Mama, why are you so quick?” Sihle figures Baba is a slowpoke!

“Mama~ have you forgiven Baba~?” Sitha asks cleverly on Baba’s behalf.

“Not yet,” Their Mama said with a proud smile. Then Shuri watched as the children ran off quickly, heading to their Baba.

Namor flips with precise, gazing upon and grins:

🐚Very tempting offer BUT not enough🐚

And so, the two babies acted as messengers, running back and forth across the beach. A few more rounds later, they had had enough!!!!!

“Baba, Sitha is tired! Are you done yet?!” His baby boy stomps in frustration, protesting already.

“Not yet,” Namor writes with relish, clearly enjoying more than anything.

“Baba! You are flirting with Mama! We don’t want to help you anymore!” The clever princess she is, Sihle counters with brains.

But their Baba is a clever ass too, “How about having lobster for dinner tonight?”

“Okay!!” The two children eagerly agreed to continue their mission! It’s their favourite food!

"Where did you learn the word 'flirting' anyway???" Namor scratches Sihle's little chin, amused.

"Uncle T'Challa taught me! He says this is what you and Mama are always doing! Are you there yet, Baba?!" Sihle reaches out to cling onto his back, dangling.

“Almost there, Baba is about to coax your Mama, thank you for waiting so patiently, zithandwa zam ezincinci.” My little loves. It took Namor a few more moments to come up with a sassy reply.

In the end, the two children came up with their own plan.

The two small heads with dark curly hair shimmer beautifully under the sun. The little girl with two buns and the little boy with a little braid moves in sync. They were kissed gently by the sun, a perfect blend of their parents.

The older sister guided the little brother, and soon they had their plan ready, each heading towards one of their parents.

“Baba, Mama says she doesn't want to send messages to you anymore. She wants you to come see her in person!” Namor had long figured out what the two small figures were up to on the beach since he’d been watching all along. He picks up his daughter, following her plan.

“Got it, little princess, let's go find your Mama and brother~”

On the other hand, “Hug, hug, Mama! Mama! Hug! Hug!” Sitha raises his little arms at her, cooing adorably. Shuri sets aside the sketchbook, lifting her precious little one. “Tired, aren’t you? Come, let Mama hug you,” She affectionately kisses her little prince and Sitha beams with joy, looking just like his father.

“Mama, Baba says he doesn't want to send messages to you anymore! He wants you to come see him in person! Come on, let’s go!” Sitha snuggles into her. Shuri raises an eyebrow, hugging him up more securely, “Alright, let's go then~”

Slowly, Sitha leads his Mama, pointing to the seashells along the beach. “Mama, look! I found seashells for you!” Shuri bends down to pick up the shells, then hands them to her baby boy, “This looks nice, isn’t it?”

“There are so many more, Mama! Let's bring them all home, can we?” Sitha pleads with his Mama. “Sure, Mama is following your lead!” In this way, the mother and son followed the seashell-lined path, picking up shells and admiring them together.

Not long after, the two souls destined to cross met in the middle.

“Quick, Baba, Mama is here!”

“Hurry, Mama, Baba is here!”

Namor and Shuri looked at each other and smiled with pride. Their daughter and son had put “so much” effort into their little plan. They each hold their children and walk towards each other.

“I heard you were looking for me,” Namor preempts.

Shuri beams at him, proud of their laughing daughter and adorable son. Then, she gazes at Namor, with infinite infatuation, and says,

“Yes, I've been looking for you for 20 years.”

Namor’s face softens instantly. He reaches out, pulling Shuri and Sitha, squeezing them in his and Sihle’s warm embrace.

The royal family of four held each other tightly under the glow of the setting sun, their faces adorned with smiles full of happiness.

In that tranquil moment, bathing in the warm glow of the setting sun, their laughter echoes as they stand in unity. As the waves whisper tales of years gone by, Namor and Shuri have shared an unforgettable reunion that mends the lost threads of time.

Their children, Sihle and Sitha, the living proof of their love story, play at their feet, weaving joy and innocence into the story of their shared journey. With hands entwining, hearts connecting, and smiles that speak volumes, Namor and Shuri embrace the love they have built together over the years.

By the shore, the beginning of a chapter was lost, but a new chapter begins and continues its legacy. The family of four walks into the horizon, leaving their big and small footprints in the moist, soft sands and the moment they cherished now etched in their hearts.

“Mama! Baba said we are eating lobsters today!” Sihle squeals in joy.

“Hungry, Mama! Me and Sisi are hungry already, Baba!” Sitha shakes Namor’s head playfully, making him laugh.

“I’m hungry too,” Shuri chimes in.

“Alright, let’s go home for dinner then.” Namor tugs her forward, heading home as the babies lead the way.

Shuri leans in and secretly whispers in his ears, “I’m still angry at you, you know?”

Namor smirks, stealing a kiss from her lips, “You're even more breathtaking when you're mad, Shuri. It's like anger enhances your beauty. I might be onto something here…”

“Don't think you can get away with flattery,” Shuri shakes her head in triumph.

But Namor has all the tricks up his sleeve, “Then I must confess, my love, I am defenseless against your “still angry” face. How about a peace treaty sealed with a kiss?”

“I think this could work~” Shuri tiptoes and claims his surrender, sealing a treaty as Namor smiles into their kiss, swaying her like the tender waves as always.

Love had conquered time, and in the gentle embrace of the evening breeze, they discovered that some reunions were written in the stars.

And so, as the Wakanda sun dips below the horizon, they swim back to their underwater home, Talokan, as myriads of household lights up in the darkness, no longer untouched by the sun— their family sprouts and grows with love that transcends the sands of time, forever theirs.

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