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suuuupernovaaa · 1 year

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zeykoyu

zeykoyu [zɛj.ˈko.ju] n. healer

Anonymous Request: I would like to request a Neteyam x Na'vi reader with the "you'll never be her trope", where reader is promised to Neteyam, but he loves another. He is sort of a shitty asshole to her, a girl who is a quiet not very well known member of the clan; he treats reader with the coldest shoulder. However, he overhears the girl talking to her friends about how she just using Neteyam to gain status in the clan. He then sees reader for the caring person she is, and grovels for forgiveness.

I have resigned myself to my fate.

In what feels like a very short amount of time, I will be mated for life before Eywa, to a man who does not love me. In fact, he barely seems to tolerate me.

He looks at me with disappointment, and sometimes, it even looks like he feels disgusted by me.

It wasn't always this way. Neteyam used to be a friend, and someone I trusted. He was so kind and good-hearted when we were younger, but he has turned his back on me and come to resent our pairing.

As if it is my choice! I am the next Tsahik of our people, and he the next Olo'eyktan. We are promised to each other from youth, and there's nothing either of us can do that would not cause much upset in the clan, and with our families.

Though Neteyam clearly does not want to be mated to me, even more than that, he does not want to upset his family.

The change in his heart happened just a year ago, and it was slow at first. We went from friends to acquaintances to strangers, and now to near enemies, because of her.

I don't really blame her, though. He fell in love with her, and she can't control that. I felt jealous at first, but over time, as Neteyam has treated me more and more coldly, I have started to hate both of them.

If I'm being honest, I understand why he loves her; she is beautiful, and funny, and many men have had their eyes on her. I am plain, and small, and not many people speak to me. She does seem a better match for someone like Neteyam, and I almost wish we could be free of this pairing.

As much as Neteyam does not want to disappoint his family, I don't want to disappoint our people; I am a talented healer and I will serve our people well as Tsahik.

So I have resigned myself to my fate.

Our fate.

Neteyam watches Sa'me from a distance, as she approaches the center of home tree with her friends, dropping off a full fishing net from a day's work.

His heart swells with pride at the woman he loves, and then, he gets angry. These two feelings always accompany each other.

Love and adoration for Sa'me, and disappointment towards his fate. It doesn't matter who he loves; he's promised to Y/N, and he can't get out of it. That's just not how it works.

She is the next Tsahik and he knows, despite how he wants things to be, that she will be an excellent Tsahik for their people. He has to put the people before himself.

But he does not have to be happy about it.

He approches Sa'me and her friends, but their backs are to him as they empty their nets, and as he gets closer, he hears their conversation.

"Aren't you worried, about his upcoming mating ceremony?" one friend asks.

To his surprise, Sa'me laughs. "No! I have gotten what I wanted, and I am relieved it will end soon."

He stops in his tracks, listening closely.

"Sa'me!" a friend chastises.

"Well, I have three offers for my hand, from fine men. I owe that to Neteyam. When they knew he wanted me, that made them want me. I think I'll pick Marek - he's handsome and strong. Neteyam is nice, but too boring for me. Plus, the way he's treated Y/N since we started spending time together... I almost feel bad for her. She will have a miserable life."

The girls laugh, and Neteyam spins on his heel, charging away.

He expects sympathy from his sister, but earns only an eye-roll when he tells Kiri what he overheard.

"Well, she's right. You knew you were promised and pursued Sa'me anyway, even though it was kind of obvious what she was doing. And you have been an asshole to Y/N. She's really nice to still put up with you - to even speak with you. You've treated her like dirt the last year, and she's never said a mean thing about you. Even though, she would be right to do it."

Neteyam stares at his sister, slack jawed, unsure whether to feel angry or guilty. A fine mixture of both rises in his chest, and he sighs.

"You used to be friends with her, you know. She's so sweet, and so kind. She's only putting up with your behavior so she can be Tsahik, and not because she cares about the title. She wants to help the People, and knows she'll be able to if she's Tsahik. She just has to marry an asshole to do it."

"Okay, okay," Neteyam says, waving his hand in the air, begging his sister to stop.

"Well, I just don't feel bad for you, Teyam. You need to grow up and deal with what you did."

He rolls his eyes, but he can't deny it: Kiri is right.

Without her noticing, Neteyam starts to watch Y/N as much as he can from that day in. Her daily routine is simple. She rises early, and heads into the forest to gather supplies she can use in her healing practice. Once she's done, she begins going around to people who she knows need her help, in and out of their homes all day, gaining hugs and smiles and thanks wherever she goes.

She is soft-spoken, and kind hearted, and her small stature only serves to make her seem more gentle, more dispositioned for healing.

He sees the way people look at her as she approaches - they look at her with relief, and hope, and when she leaves, she leaves people better than she found them.

Neteyam feels sick to his stomach.

He tries to remember what it is about Sa'me that drew him in. He sees her beauty, he can't deny it still, but it's clear now that her beauty is only on the surface.

Did she ever compliment him? Support him? Offer him a kind word?

He can't even remember what they talked about... for a year.

"Neteyam?"

He turns from the tree he's leaning against and sees Y/N approaching, a large basket in her arms.

"You look ill. Are you okay?"

Neteyam wants to tell her he's fine, that she should leave, but he feels light-headed and instead, he sinks to the ground, a sweat breaking out on his brow.

"I'm... okay. My head feels light."

She kneels in front of him, rummaging through her basket. She pours a few things in a cup, and mixes them together with a powder.

"Here," she says, handing it to him. He takes it, his hands touching hers for a second, and he's struck by how small her hands are.

She's so delicate, like a flower, and he has certainly done his best to trample all over her.

The shame he feels is unlike anything he's ever felt before.

The drink is bitter, but it starts working almost immediately, and the faint feeling begins to fade.

"Thank you, Y/N," he says, handing the cup back to her. She takes it with a small smile and a nod, and rises to leave. Neteyam reaches out, grabbing her arm. "Wait."

She turns, frowning down at him. He stands up.

"I want to apologize to you, Y/N. I have been... terrible. I have neglected you, and I have been an asshole. I'm sorry. I would like to start again."

She tilts her head to the side and narrows her eyes, staring deep into him. He wonders if she can see his soul.

Of all of the things I thought Neteyam wanted to say to me, 'I'm sorry' was not even on the list.

My instinct is to tell him to go to tell, but there is such a strange look on his face... he still looks sick, and sad, and a little bit ashamed.

Well, he should be. But also - what choice do I have? If Neteyam is offering me a chance to make the best of this situation, shouldn't I take it?

I remember how I felt about him once. Hopeful, excited, nearly in love... but that feeling is so far away now. I'm not sure if there's even a possibility of re-gaining it.

But, it seems smart to try, if we are to have any chance at a happy life.

"Okay," I reply finally. "But I don't think Sa'me will appreciate it."

Neteyam hangs his head for a moment, and then meets my eyes again. "What she appreciates does not matter. You are to be my mate. You are all that matters."

He places a hand over his heart.

I would like to trust him, but it's going to take more than one conversation where he says the right things.

It seems I cannot get rid of Neteyam now. When I gather supplies in the morning, he is there. When I make my rounds in the village, he is there. He is always... there.

Not silently, either. He is full of questions. Everything I do and say, he has a question about. If it wasn't endearing, it would be exhausting.

After a week of this, he asks me to take a ride on our ikrans with him - and I can't say no. I have been so busy working lately, that it sounds like a wonderful and welcome break.

Early in the morning, we head out together, and take one of the longest rides I've ever been on. In the air, we twist and turn and glide together, and all the while, Neteyam is whooping and throwing me ear-to-ear smiles.

He gestures to a nearby cave in the floating rocks, and we land together, dismounting. We are both wind-burnt, but smiling.

"I must ask you something," I say.

"Anything," Neteyam replies, chest heaving from the effort of riding.

"Why did you change your mind? About Sa'me?"

His face darkens, and he sighs. "I overheard her talking about how being seen with me has gotten her offers from many fine potential mates, and she doesn't care that I'm promised to someone else."

I wince. Even if Neteyam is a jerk, I don't think anyone deserves to be used like that.

"I'm sorry, Neteyam. Though, that does explain your sudden... interest."

He shakes his head. "No. After I heard what Sa'me said, I went to Kiri and she, uh, pointed out what an asshole I've been. She also pointed out how kind and smart and talented you are, probably to let me know, uh, what an asshole I've been. So I started kind of, uh, watching you. And I realized she was right."

"About what?"

"Well, I am an asshole but... you are the most kind-hearted woman in this clan. And you did not try to withdraw from our match because you deserve to be Tsahik. Not for the title, but because you are best suited to serve our people. You care about them more than yourself. You're selfless. And beautiful. And I was blind to think anyone could be better suited for me."

I bite my lip, and take a step back. "Neteyam, that all sounds very nice, but I..."

He steps forward, reaching out and taking both of my hands in his. "It isn't enough. I know that, Y/N. I don't expect our problems to be solved now. I just want a chance to prove to you, who I really am. What a good mate I can be for you. I can make you happy. I want to. It's all I want."

I can feel the tears gathering in my eyes, and I blink hard to keep them at bay. "I always thought so highly of you, Neteyam. I want us to be happy. I want to try."

He squeezes my hand tightly, pulling me to him.

"I will make you happy. I promise you, Y/N. Please, let me kiss you."

I hesitate for only a moment. The look in his eyes is so sincere, and his eyes fall down to my lips for just a moment, then back up to my eyes, and I can't resist. Everything I want seems to be within my grasp.

He places his hands around my waist, and pulls me in.

"Say yes," he whispers. I can't find my voice, but I nod.

The kiss is explosive. A year of anger, frustration and want packed into one kiss. My body is flush to his, and I feel the tears spilling over, but I can't stop them, and I don't want to pull away.

It feels too good.

I put my hands in his hair, gripping tightly, sighing against his lips, and he groans.

Finally, we pull away, and stare at each other, both breathless.

"I will make you happy, healer," he whispers.

I might believe him now.

#neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam fic #avatar #avatar twow

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reverseexorcist · 4 months

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♡ 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ♡

You couldn't not give me Carmilla fucking Carmine and expect me not to go feral over her-

➲ 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 Carmine + !F!Reader

➲ Romantic ☒, Platonic ☐

➲ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 Count; 1,479 Words

➲ Warnings/notes; Female reader, these are kind've all over the place, Carmilla might be a tad OOC since this is my first time writing her

➲ There are so many different ways this relationship could possibly start. The mind boggles trying to think of all of them. Just think of all the potential shenanigans that could occur and have fun with that

➲ But lemme just say before anything - This woman is fiercely protective over you. Not in the cutesy, clingy kind've obsessive way, but the silently scary scary-dog privilege kind've partner. The epitome of 'excuse me sir, they asked for no pickles', and, because I love this trope, you are the only person (besides her daughters) that she will ever fully be soft for.

➲ Insert 🥺 right here

➲ Just, get you a woman who looks at you the way Carmilla looks at her wife. That's all I can say

➲ The soft moments in the morning when you can just lay in bed and watch her get ready. Pulling her hair up into her signature, gravity defying buns(?) and delicately slip on and twine her angelic steel shoes. The minutes of her fingers expertly working away in a comfortable silence as you just lay under the comfort of your warm blankets? Those are the moments right there 👌

➲ Probably not one for physical affection, at least not in public. Definitely not in public. Her reputation alone would probably put you in danger, which is, y'know, not good, so no hand-holding in public

➲ (Honestly, one part of her probably prefers not to be seen with you in public for that exact reason. The other part wants to keep you in her line of sight at all times because at least then she can personally keep you safe)

➲ All of that being said, can't deny she'd probably give top tier hugs. Proper bear hugs because this woman is tall and strong and would undeniably make you feel safe whenever you're in her arms. Depending on how tall or short you are, she could also probably pick you up if you really wanted 👉👈

➲ (She could 100% pick you up, and probably with one hand as well)

➲ Gives the most tender of little kisses. Small pecks on the cheeks and forehead whenever she's tired from work, her larger fingers gently grazing the sides of your head as her fluffy hair tickles your face

➲ And the adorable little pet names she whispers to you! Maybe you're just passing by each other in an almost empty street or just relaxing at home together, but she'll always try and take the chance to whisper something like 'mi Vida', 'mi Corazón' or 'mi Reina' just loud enough for the two of you to hear

➲ Let's be real, this woman is really goddamn tall, so you're probably shorter than her and she absolutely loves it and would absolutely tell this to your face just to fluster you. What she loves even more is the way you'd have to reach up on your tippy toes with her leaning down to meet you halfway just to have you playfully kiss her on the tip of her nose or her chin

➲ Maybe, very rarely, if she's feeling extra sentimental, she'd love it if you sat on her lap while she works in her home office, just so she can have your comfort and warmth nearby. More often than not this scenario would end up with you falling asleep in her lap and her carrying you back to bed with the smallest of smiles on her face

➲ If she could really help it, she'd prefer to keep you as far away from her work as possible. As much as she would love to have you in the office, maybe helping her with paperwork or something similar so she could have you at within her reach at all times of the day, arms dealing is a dangerous job. At least her daughter's have each other's backs' when they're out doing business, but you'd probably have to make it on your own or with one of her other employees and that's a big no no in her eyes

➲ Also, speaking of her daughters, your relationship with them would vary wildly depending on when you met them

➲ If you started dating Carmilla when Clara and Odette were rather young, they'd probably cling on to you like a second mother figure. In some cases, they might've even preferred you over Carmilla for the sole fact that their toddler puppy eyes work on you better than their biological mother

➲ Your dynamic would probably just be the three of you racing to see who could give Carmilla a hug first after she gets home from work

➲ (Though, this only works if Carmilla is hell-born seeing as sinner's can't have children)

➲ If you started dating Carmilla when they were older though, there might be a bit of a tense air when you first meet. Carmilla's protectiveness isn't just one way - Her daughters absolutely adore her, and although they definitely couldn't protect her physically, they'd do their damn best to protect her emotionally

➲ They'd warm up to you after some time though, seeing you do truly love their mother with your whole heart. You'd never be a parent to them, barely even a step-parent, but they'd respect you and care for you like family nonetheless because you make their mother happy

➲ Either way, her heart melts seeing the three of you getting alone, and she 100% has a family picture she keeps on her desk for her eyes only

➲ Sometimes she just waits until you fall asleep so she can cradle your head in her heads oh so carefully. She just sort've stares at you, her eyes glowing in the dark with her wild mane of hair spilling out behind her, and she just traces all the intricate details of your face with her eyes

➲ And then she just sort've hugs you closer to her, tugging the blankets a little tighter around the two of you as she presses the littlest of kisses to your forehead before relaxing into the pillows

➲ But just imagine Carmilla with a wife who died so much later after her. Just this tall, scary and proper woman that strikes fear into the hearts of millions with her little gremlin wife who keep talking about shit like reddit that the other sinners just don't understand (not even Carmilla herself, but she finds your antics somewhat entertaining, at least when she doesn't have to act as your self preservation instincts and keep you safe)

➲ Extermination is your least favourite day for multiple reasons

➲ The first being, well, the exorcists descending form heaven to brutally murder sinners left and right, but also because Carmilla changes around this time

➲ It's understandable, especially with what happened in one of the previous exterminations when she and her daughters got caught, but it still scares you to see you usually cool, calm and loving wife turn into a robot who's only goal is to get you and her daughters to a safehouse to wait out the terror outside

➲ Doesn't mean you're not grateful, though. You can look past all of that because you know she's just doing it to keep you safe, and in the end you'd rather be safe and living with your family rather than dead on the end of an exorcist's spear

➲ You probably also have a good relationship with the other overlords, despite never having gone to a meeting

➲ (It's because of this you've never met Velvette or the other Vee's, and if Carmilla has a say, you never will)

➲ Rosie, being the social butterfly she is, loves to talk gossip with you every chance she gets. Zestial likes to join in on your little sessions, not saying anything but bringing tea for everyone to drink and enjoy. Clara also likes to join in sometimes, but her sister would much rather sit with her mother and just watch the chaos unfold in front of them

➲ Almost certainly has caught you trying on her shoes when she's not looking. A part of her is annoyed because she'd rather not have you involved in anything to do with her work, but the innocent look you give her makes her rethink her annoyance in the moment

➲ She'd later found out Clara helped you because you also wanted to try and walk around on pointe like the rest of the family. No idea why you skipped straight to trying the angelic weapon shoes, but Carmilla does offer to help you later

➲ Overall, great wife and I'd give her a 9/10. One point deducted probably because she'd be a tad too overprotective, but everything else about her is great; From her bear hugs to those little moments the two of you share

Rules + Info,

Masterlist,

#carmilla carmine x reader #carmilla x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel carmilla carmine #carmilla carmine #hazbin hotel headcanons #wlw #hazbin hotel x you #carmilla carmine x fem reader

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t-lostinworlds · 9 months

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The Grump & The Drunk | Miguel O'Hara

》 PAIRING: miguel o'hara x spider-woman!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: grumpy x (drunk) sunshine, fluff, humor

》 SUMMARY: You were clingy, feisty with no filter when you're drunk. Miguel had front row seat of it—literally. You're lucky he didn't mind. In fact, he was glad it was him and not anyone else. The thought made him seethe in jealousy even though you technically were not his girl. But he wasn't sure if that still rang true after tonight's drunken confession (or that make-out session).

》 WARNINGS: alcohol consumption, soft!miguel (also emotionally constipated!miguel but what's new), r calls him miggy to tease him, height difference (he's 6'9" he's an effin giant), r thirsts over him in front of his face lol, some innuendos, brief argument about feelings, overall very cute and fluffy.

》 WORD COUNT: 6.1k+

A/N: can anyone guess what movie i watched recently. is anyone surprised that i liked the grump with a side of trauma lmao. ANYWAY. this is the first time i'm writing miguel so pls be nice. wrote this fairly quickly too and it's barely proofread sooo. but i hope you still enjoy it!

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

It was late.

Quiet.

Well, for now, at least.

Moments like these were rare to come by, where there wasn't much to do except to let things happen. The multiverse was stable enough not to need any intervention.

It usually was the epitome of the calm before the storm.

Nevertheless, everyone—well, those left at HQ and weren't on stakeout—in the Spider Society took advantage of it.

There was always some sort of activity going on during these types of days. Most of it were small get-togethers in the cafeteria, or perhaps a low-key karaoke in the cinema room. Other times it was much more on the nose.

Right now, there was a party held on the rooftop.

The music was blaring—muffled for him, thanks to his soundproofing—as it jumped from genre to genre depending on who successfully bribed the DJ.

It was rowdy—that he was sure of. What, with the modified alcohol strong enough to affect any Spider-Person as if they weren't enhanced, how could it not be?

Miguel wasn't one for festivities. Not to mention, strobe lights always gave him bad migraines. So after showing face for about ten minutes—he wouldn't have shown up at all but was begged to go by someone he couldn't say no to—he decided to call it a night.

Well, back to his…Spider-Cave.

He was sure there would be copyright issues if that was made official.

But it was dubbed by you so it simply stuck.

You, with bright eyes and a sweet smile as you pleaded for him to come with you to the rooftop even if it was "just a couple minutes, please?"

You, who wore a simple yet gorgeous black dress as you all but dragged him into the elevator, bouncing with excitement because it was going to be your first party here at HQ.

You, who enthusiastically sipped on your Pink Señorita—a margarita with pink lemonade—giddy to feel the buzz of the alcohol after years of being unable to.

You, who was so joyful and uncaring as you danced to your heart's content when your favorite song came on, right in the middle of the floor, shining as bright as the sun as the others revolved around you.

Miguel only watched from the sidelines, his chest aching with longing. So close but out of reach because he couldn't.

He'd only put a damper on your light.

It wasn't a matter of if, it was a matter of when.

He couldn't do that to you.

Soft spot.

Miguel had very few of those.

Anyone who dared to give their opinion on his life with the bravery to say it right to his face said one was occupied by you.

Some would even imply that you held the biggest one.

And sure, the first time Lyla scouted you and suggested for you to be recruited into the Spider Society he might've said yes far too quickly than he should've. But that was only because he saw the way you took down a sector of the Maggia all on your own. He was thoroughly impressed.

There were also times when he let you get away with annoying him scot-free. Whether that was teasing, various nicknames, talking his ear out for hours as you refused to leave him alone to do work, and sometimes even pranks. If it were any other person doing the same things you would've done, they would be leaving the premises at least fearing their life.

He also let you spend time around his magic carpet—as you so unoriginally named it. You were constantly testing those copyright issues—quite often to the point that some of your stuff had migrated the space. There were little trinkets scattered around, evidence that you'd been here.

Miguel finally bought a desk chair perfectly suited for his big and tall stature all because you complained about not having anywhere to sit while you were up here with him.

It was more your chair than it was his, to be honest, since you definitely sat on it far more than he had.

Sure, he could've bought an extra one for you but he didn't want to encourage the teasing—that had been nonstop since you waltzed into his life—that he was playing favorites.

He preferred to stand while he worked, anyway.

Fine.

He could kinda see why many people would say he had a soft spot for you.

Speaking of…

Miguel could hear you before he could even see you.

You were giggling to yourself, followed by poor attempts at whispered apologies when you knocked over something or bumped against something else.

It made him worry a little.

Sure, you were too enthusiastic for his liking, all optimism and sunshine despite everything that you had gone through—it harshly contrasted with his personality.

But he wouldn't particularly classify you as clumsy.

He waited for you to call for him, anticipating which way you'd say it this time around. Your most recent one was: "O'Hara, O'Hara, let down your floating chair."

You thought you were really funny with that one.

But silence.

No cheeky way of asking him to let you come up.

Where'd you go?

Suddenly, he heard a very annoyed and frustrated groan, prolonged and all dramatic.

Then, that familiar thwip rang in the air.

You couldn't have been more impatient.

He was aware of exactly where you were, shooting your webs in random directions so long as you hit a column that took you higher and higher. But even if he didn't have his enhanced senses, your constant giggling would give you away.

Yet as loud as you had already been, your shriek was even louder.

Miguel didn't hesitate to jump off the platform.

His heart was pounding as he clocked your falling figure, adrenaline and fear all at once.

You looked dazed in your freefall, unable to comprehend that your cartridges were empty as you kept trying to shoot your webs.

In the nick of time, he caught you by the waist—upside down.

He let out a huge sigh of relief at the same time you turned into heaps of giggles.

"This isn't how I imagined us getting into this position," you snorted as if you weren't dangling a couple of feet above the ground, feet in the air, arms limp and swaying. "Wow…your thigh is bigger than my head!"

Miguel's whole body warmed, not only from your comments but also because you were still in your dress.

Thank fuck it wasn't a loose skirt.

Not that he would ever look. He might be a bit of a grump—temperamental at times, he'll admit—but he was still a gentleman.

Though he was glad you couldn't see the obvious fluster on his face given your current upside-down predicament.

He'd never hear the end of it.

"I'm flipping you around," he said.

"Like a pancake?"

He didn't answer. He simply tossed you into the air, your squeal echoing off the walls. He caught you again but the right way up this time—your hands clinging onto his shoulders, legs around his waist.

Miguel tried not to dwell on your closeness as he shot a web and pulled you both back up.

"You flipped me like a pancake!" you giggled, stumbling onto the platform once you reached it.

What on earth is going on with you?

One look in your eyes, his unspoken question was swiftly answered.

"Widely irresponsible to swing while drunk," he reprimanded, arms crossed over his chest.

You blew a raspberry, waving your hand dismissively. "Am not drunk."

"Then why did I have to save you from falling head-first into the ground?"

"I slipped!"

"You could've just called me to let the platform down."

"And have it take so fucking long?"

Miguel blinked.

Oh you were so drunk.

"I know it's an intimidating tactic or whatever the fuck it is you're doing. Either way, it's a choice, but it doesn't have to be so damn slow, Miggy!"

"I told you to stop calling me that," he said, no heat in his tone. He simply couldn't stand the way his heart did a funny thing whenever he'd hear that nickname slip past your lips.

"Sorry, sir," you said, sarcasm lacing each letter.

Miguel took a deep breath.

"Don't call me that, either," he said, voice an octave deeper.

You rolled your eyes, completely oblivious to the effect you had on him. "Someone's extra grumpy today."

"Night."

"What?"

"It's night."

"Pfft, you know, you should loosen up your suit," you said, waving at all of him. "Maybe the tightness is making you grumpier somehow, suffocating your muscles and everything."

"The tightness of my suit has nothing to do with my mood."

"Could've fooled me," you scoffed, glaring at him from head to toe. "You're probably chafing in weird places and it's making you irritable. I bet—no, I know you're naked underneath because even though I haven't seen you naked I can still see…stuff, many stuff, big stuff, you know, imagination and not leaving any and shit."

"Dios mío," he grumbled in disbelief, rubbing a palm over his warm face. "How drunk are you?"

"Zero percent-o, Miguelito."

He bit back a smile.

"Could've fooled me," he said, raising a brow at you.

"Don't you dare throw my words back at me," you warned, attempting to appear threatening with your chest puffed out, chin raised as you got all up in his face. You slumped with a pout a second later. "You are so fucking tall!"

"And you are so drunk."

"M'not!"

"Uh-huh, sure," he hummed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Oh I am very sure—Miguel, can you sit down," you complained, brows deeply furrowed as you tried grabbing onto his shoulders, urging him to settle on the chair.

He decided to mess with you a little, planting his feet firmly so you weren't able to budge him even with your enhanced strength.

Your inebriated state wasn't helping your case.

It was the first time he ever got to see you annoyed and he actually found it cute. What, with your brows deeply furrowed and that pout in full play, huffing and puffing as you pushed at his chest with your full body strength, how could he not?

"Miggy sit the fuck down!" you growled.

He resisted the urge to laugh, throwing his hands up as he obliged, "Okay, okay, I'm sitting."

Now, he was the one looking up at you.

Yet you still looked frustrated.

"Is that not any better?" he asked, confused.

"No," you mumbled, glaring down at him, pout still prominent.

The next thing he knew, you were already grabbing onto his shoulders, pushing yourself up the chair.

You sat right on his lap.

Miguel was rarely surprised these days, considering what he did for a living.

But he sure as hell wasn't prepared to have you on top of him.

He could almost feel his brain short-circuit, taking a bit more time and effort for it to get its bearings back into place.

But then, you turned shy, eyes blinking at him all wide with shock as if you didn't know that climbing onto his lap resulted in him and you being so close.

"Hi," you whispered.

"Hello," he murmured, fingers twitching to hold you. He gripped the armrest instead. "Can I ask what exactly it is you're doing?"

"What…was I doing?" you questioned, almost to yourself, scanning the nearly non-existent space between you both before your face lit up. "Oh! I'm trying to talk to you without spraining my neck, genius."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah! You try talking to a six-foot-nine Adonis of a man and see if your neck doesn't hurt after a while."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Adonis, huh?"

"Not like that," you quickly said, voice shyer. "I mean like…huge, muscular, a-and plump."

"Plump?"

"Yeah!" You nodded enthusiastically, pressing your palms right on top his chest, one on each pec. "You've got plump boobs and ass."

He almost choked on air.

"What has gotten into you?" he asked, thoroughly amused.

"You, hopefully."

"Diosito, ayúdame," he muttered, resisting the temptation to take your word for it. You were drunk. You had no idea what you were saying.

Miguel shook his head when you stared at him confused, still slow on your Spanish. Then again, he'd only ever taught you a few phrases so far.

"How many lemonades did you have?" he asked instead.

"Why are you asking me so many questions!" you groaned, head thrown back as dramatically as you could. "It's my turn to ask questions!"

"Fine," he sighed, ignoring the urge to nip at your exposed skin. He heavily disregarded the thoughts that brewed in his head from the way you were innocently squirming on him, trying to get more comfortable, your skirt hiking up in the process.

He was good at keeping his composure, mastered it after years. He could do it for a couple of minutes more.

"Why'd you disappear?" you sighed.

"Too bright. Too loud."

"Why didn't you tell me you were leaving?"

"You were having fun. Didn't want to spoil your mood," he stated the obvious. "Besides, my absence didn't affect anything."

"But it did," you insisted, bottom lip jutting out. "Was gonna ask you to dance."

His brow rose at that. "And what made you think I'll say yes?"

"You always say yes," you said, shrugging as if it was a known fact to the universe.

If it was you asking? Maybe.

He honestly felt a little glad he left the party early. He wouldn't even dare to imagine the outcome if he was seen out on the dance floor with you.

He would much prefer it with no audience—just you and him.

"I don't always say yes."

You narrowed your eyes, obviously not believing him by one bit.

But you didn't bother to argue.

Instead, you plopped forward, arms wrapping around his shoulders, face pressed against his neck.

Miguel froze.

He honestly didn't know what to do with himself.

Well, he wanted to do so many things at once, he just didn't know if he should—too many boundaries, too dangerous to cross.

A battle between logic and emotions.

You chose for him, though.

"Will you just—" You pulled his arms off the armrest, wrapping it around you instead. "Want cuddles, please."

How could he say no?

And for the first time in a long while, Miguel finally let himself go.

Body relaxing into the seat, he pulled you a little closer, palms rubbing soft patterns on your back as he pressed his cheek against the side of your head.

It had been so long since he'd cuddled with someone, so maybe his judgment was a little skewed. But still, he didn't remember it feeling this lovely—not until now.

Or maybe because it was you.

And if he didn't know any better, he'd say you were purring.

"Comfortable?" he hummed, rubbing the tip of his nose against your crown.

You nodded, taking a deep breath, humming soon after, "I've always wondered just how nice you smell up close."

He couldn't stop the flush that crept up his face.

"You're warm," you whispered, rubbing your face against his neck like a cat.

It made him wonder if you'd been hanging around Spider-Cat too much—or Meows Morales.

He'd rather not think about it.

Instead, he commanded his suit to uncover his hands, one less barrier between his palm and your skin. The fabric of your dress did very little to conceal your warmth as he continued giving you comforting rubs.

It made you bury yourself deeper into his arms as if you could go any further.

"This feels nice," you murmured, voice muffled against him.

He hummed in agreement.

You both settled into a comfortable silence after that.

But if he listened closely, the steady thump of your heartbeat was soft against his ears. He found the sound relaxing, and the minuscule romantic part of him imagined it was syncing with his own.

A peaceful rhythm.

Your soft breaths tickled his skin as you snuggled closer, his smile unabashedly painted on his face.

No one was here to see it, anyway.

After a few more moments of calmness, he assumed you'd already fallen asleep. He was already preparing himself to carry you across universes and back home when you suddenly spoke up,

"Can I touch your fangs?"

He blinked.

"What?"

You shifted, pulling back a little so that you could meet his eyes, face so close your noses almost touched.

"Your fangs," you repeated.

Before he could even respond, your hands were already on his face, one thumb lifting the corner of his lip while your other hand found his chin, holding him still.

"Wanna feel how sharp they are," you muttered, opting to use both hands now to pull his lips and expose his canines.

"Very sharp and dangerous," he chuckled despite himself, gently grabbing your wrists to stop your prodding. "Just take my word for it."

"You're pretty when you smile," you said, beaming and proud as if seeing his fangs was an accomplishment.

He rolled his eyes, unable to stop himself from grinning.

You smiled wider in return.

Holding your hands between you both, he absentmindedly started stroking your palms with his thumb.

It guided your gaze toward it.

"Your hands are naked!" you gasped, grabbing his wrists and bringing his fingers up to your face, wonder and awe in your eyes as if it was the first time you'd seen them without cover—it wasn't.

You'd seen him in casual clothes before.

Miguel couldn't stop his laugh from escaping even if he tried.

"I didn't know you could do that!" you said, fully amazed before your brows furrowed, pout coming back. "Why can't my suit do that? I have to get all naked just to feel my fingers."

He didn't dwell on that picture.

"I'll tweak it for you if you'd like," he said instead.

Your whole face brightened.

"Really? You'd do that?" you giddily gasped, bringing his hands up to press your palms against his like a double high five. The way your hand was much smaller than his made his heart warm.

He interlaced your fingers together. "Really."

"We're going to make a suit together!" you laughed, lovely and sweet. "That's a big big step."

He chuckled, gaze carefully tracing your beautiful features, each curve and divot glowing with happiness. He felt tempted to count every perfectly imperfect mark that littered your skin, wanting to know if it was there naturally, or if there was a story behind it.

It was supposed to be a swift glance.

He didn't mean to settle too long on your lips.

Nor did he plan to get caught.

"Stop staring," you whispered shyly.

"You're right in front of my face," he deflected, eyes back on yours.

"I know but…" You trailed off, shifting slightly, the tips of your noses brushing in the process.

"But?" he softly prodded.

"You're looking at me weird."

"How so?"

"Like…" you started, voice dropping into a whisper as if you were disclosing a secret. "You want to kiss me."

He couldn't even bother to deny the truth.

"I'll stop staring," he hummed, words holding no weight as he never removed his eyes from you.

"No!" you protested, turning flustered a second later, shyer when he smirked.

"I thought it was weird?" he teased.

"'Weird' was the wrong word," you said, scrunching your nose in thought. Adorable. "I meant different."

"How different?"

"I don't know," you admitted, leaning a little closer. "But I like it."

"Oh, do you, now?"

"Yeah," you breathed out, hands finding their way to gently cup his cheeks.

Miguel leaned into your touch with a soft smile. "Now who's staring?"

"It's because I want to kiss you," you admitted shamelessly. Your fingers traced the outline of his lips, your eyes following their path.

Miguel kissed your fingertips.

You leaned down and kissed him.

He gasped, eyes wide in shock.

A split second, they fluttered shut, head tilting, whole body melting as he kissed you back.

He spent countless amounts of time daydreaming about this moment, different scenarios, wondering what you tasted like, how it'd make him feel. But fuck—nothing could ever compare to the real thing.

It was so many things all at once.

Relief, hunger, satisfaction, desperation, fondness, fear, mind stopping, heart beating faster, soft lips, warm skin, so lovely, so sweet, so fucking addicting.

Now that he'd gotten a taste, he couldn't get enough.

Miguel cupped the back of your neck, arm snaking around your waist to keep you steady, close.

Your hand held onto his shoulder, the other finding its way into his hair, your fingers combing through the strands.

He lost any sense of control when you pulled.

Gripping your hips, he teased his tongue against the seam of your lips, slipping it in the second you opened up for him.

He groaned at your taste.

You whimpered in response.

The sound made him want to devour you.

But then you started moving your hips.

It was awakening, in more ways than one.

But the rational part of him prevailed because it was for your sake.

He pulled away, gently grabbing your chin, when you tried going back in.

"Slow down," he rasped, holding your waist and keeping you still. "Estás borracho, corazón."

"You know I don't understand," you breathed out, chest heaving, lips all plump and tempting.

"You're drunk, sweetheart," he clarified.

"I don't care," you whined, squirming.

He cupped your face in both hands.

"I do."

You pouted.

"Don't do that."

"I'm not doing anything."

"Don't pout," he sighed.

"I'm not pouting," you denied.

"You are," he said, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip.

Your pout only turned more prominent.

The beep of the clock broke him out of his trance.

It was midnight.

Miguel stood up, taking you with him before gently urging you to stand on your own two feet.

"It’s late. You should go," he said monotonously and stepped back.

You frowned.

He looked away.

"Why do you always do this?"

You were frustrated—no, you were getting angry.

He turned his back on you, eyes on the holograms even though there was nothing worth looking at.

"Do what?" he said, acting oblivious.

"Confuse the fuck out of me," you said, loud with frustration. "You act cold and distant one minute and then you're being nice and sweet the next. You keep your distance but then call me all these cute nicknames sometimes—and yes, you say them in Spanish but I asked Lyla about it once and she told me what they meant."

Traitor—thrown under the bus by his own invention.

"But then sometimes you give in and we get closer but the second I chip your walls you push me away," you continued, getting angrier by the second. "I thought things were getting better between us. But now, you won't even fucking look at me even after we just kissed—"

"You kissed me."

"You kissed me back!" you screamed.

It took him by surprise.

You had never raised your voice, much less yelled at anyone.

But honestly? There was no one else who deserved it more than him.

Slowly turning around, his heart sank when he met your tear-filled eyes.

By instinct, he reached out to try and comfort you.

It only made you angrier.

"You're doing it again!" you growled and stepped back, hands balled into fists.

Miguel stopped, hands up in surrender.

"I'm just trying to protect you," he softly said.

"Protect me?" you scoffed. "Or protect yourself?"

"I'm doing what's best for you," he reasoned, wanting nothing more than to wipe your tears away and kick his own ass for making you cry in the first place.

"You don't know that!"

"Maybe," he said, hands dropping to his sides, dejected. "But I know myself.

"Someone like me shouldn't be with someone as pure and as bright as you."

"No one gets to decide who I should and shouldn't be with," you gritted, taking long strides until you were squaring up to him. "No one but me. That's my choice."

Despite your boiling anger, despite the fact that you were glaring at him in a way that should scare him, despite the absolute animosity that lingered in your voice, your next words couldn't have brought the most opposite reaction from him.

"And I want to be with you."

Happiness, warmth, euphoria—the few things that made his heart burst at the seams.

But Miguel shook his head, eyes dropping to the ground, quickly stomping down emotions.

"I'm only going to end up hurting you," he sighed, pacing back and forth as he rubbed a frustrated hand over his warm face.

"I trust you that you won't."

"Well, you shouldn't," he insisted, eyes filled with longing, wanting to pull you close and taste your lips again despite his words saying otherwise. "You deserve so much better."

"If you believe that so fucking much then be better."

With that, you turned on your heel.

So many things flashed before his eyes, one of which was if he let you walk away now, he was going to lose you, for good.

He fucking panicked.

So much so that he jumped—right over your head.

You squeaked in shock when he landed in front of you.

Miguel didn't waste a second.

He grabbed your face and kissed you senseless.

You stumbled back, Miguel quickly webbing the chair, pulling it just in time for you to land on the cushion.

Not once did his lips leave yours.

He was bending over, hands grabbing the backrest, trapping you against it. You cupped his face, a shiver running down his spine when you trailed your hands down his chest.

But then you gently pushed him back.

He ignored the ache in his heart as he pulled away.

Miguel dropped to his knees in front of you, taking your hands in his, placing a kiss on each palm before he pressed it against his cheeks.

"I want to be with you so badly," he confessed, eyes never leaving yours so you could see it—all of him at your mercy.

"But I'm scared," he whispered, leaning into your touch. "I'm terrified that all I'll ever do is fail you, that I will never end up being the man that you deserve."

"How would you know if you won't try?" you said, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones with the sweetest smile. "And I know you think otherwise, but you deserve to be happy, too."

Miguel didn't know what to say.

So he didn't.

He kissed you instead.

It was slow, reassuring, a soft touch of your lips on his, but never less passionate.

He would've opted to deepen it a little more, but then you downright yawned between the kiss.

And here he thought you couldn't get cuter.

"You need sleep," he chuckled.

"I don't wanna go home," you grumbled, burying yourself into his chest. "It's too far."

"My room, then?" he offered.

You quickly nodded. He could almost feel you grinning against his suit.

He kissed your forehead. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

"Bed?" you gasped, emerging out of your hiding spot to wriggle your brows at him teasingly. "Gosh, take me out to dinner first."

"What am I going to do with you," he grumbled, shaking his head

"Many things, I hope."

He rolled his eyes, pressing the button to let the platform down.

"Miggy, can you give me a piggyback ride?" you asked, pouting for good measure. "I'm tired."

He sighed, turned around and crouched down.

"He doesn't always say yes he said," you giggled.

"Are you getting on or not?"

"Okay, okay, geez." You grabbed his shoulders and hoisted yourself on his back, arms around his neck, legs around his waist. Cheek pressed against his shoulder, you grinned. "Always eager to have me ride you, huh?"

His face warmed.

"I'll drop you if you won't stop."

"No you won't."

Miguel loosened his grip.

You yelped, quickly tightening your hold around him.

"You're so mean!"

He chuckled, turning his head as much as he could and puckering up his lips.

You giggled as you gave him a chaste kiss, pressing your cheek in between his shoulder blades with a deep sigh.

"Lyla, please send extra blankets and pillows to my quarters," he said, smiling to himself when you suddenly got heavier on his back.

He was sure you'd already fallen asleep.

Lyla appeared in front of him a second later, her grin far too wide for his liking.

"Not a single word about this to anyone," he interrupted whatever it was she was starting to say. "Please. Just…give us time to figure this out."

"Gotcha, boss," she said. "But for the record, I'm doing it for her."

"Good."

•••

You squinted at the bright glare that roused you from your sleep. You always close the curtains, it was part of your nightly routine. Why did you forget it this time?

Sitting up, you flopped back down with a deep groan.

Your head was pounding.

Hungover.

You didn't miss this part of drinking at all.

After a few moments, you slowly opened your eyes, the ceiling looking too unfamiliar.

Glancing down, the color of the sheets wasn't the sky blue you recently changed it into. As a matter of fact, that bed was much bigger than you were used to.

This wasn't your room.

In fact, this wasn't your world.

"What did I do?" you whispered, glancing at the nightstand. You saw the tall glass of water first, then the few pills of aspirin.

It was the framed picture that made you realize where you were.

This was Miguel's room.

Memories from last night came rushing in like a train, using your brain as railroad tracks which made your headache worse.

You quickly gulped down the water and meds, throwing the blankets off of you only to flush at the discovery.

Boxer shorts and a huge jacket—you were wearing his clothes.

Stumbling into the en suite, your heart warmed at the extra toothbrush that was already waiting for you.

You quickly made yourself as presentable as possible before making your way to the only place you knew he would be at this time of day.

First to clock in, last to clock out.

The platform was already down when you got there.

It was as if he was waiting for you.

"Morning, sleepy head," Miguel greeted without looking away from the screens.

"Good morning," you responded shyly. You picked at the hem of his jacket, second-guessing your choice of not changing out of it.

You honestly didn't know where to even begin.

As if sensing your discomfort, he turned his chair to face you.

Something flashed in his eyes for a brief moment, something primal as he regarded your figure. It was gone the next second you might as well have imagined it.

"Come here," he murmured, reaching out both hands for you to take.

Walking over to him, you slipped your hands into his, the platform beginning its ascend once you did.

You gasped in surprise when he suddenly pulled you onto his lap.

He placed your hands on his shoulders, his strong fingers curling around your waist.

You couldn't look him far too long in the eyes.

It felt like you'd combust if you did.

"What, now you're shy?" he teased, smirking freely. It was a good improvement, but you didn't know if your heart could take it having him smile at you like that. "You didn't seem to have a problem with this last night."

"Don't remind me," you groaned, hiding your face between your hands.

Miguel chuckled.

God this was so new.

It felt like you were drunk all over again—no sense of what was real and what was all in your head.

But with the soft squeeze on your waist, and the gentle fingers circling around your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face, you knew this was as real as it was going to get.

"What else do you remember?" he asked, thumbs drawing random shapes on the insides of your wrist.

You scrunched up your face. "Everything?"

He hummed, leaning a little closer to nudge the tip of your nose with his, urging you to keep your eyes on him.

"I have no idea how to do this…relationship thing. It's been a while," he started, a faint blush on his cheeks that made him so much more endearing. "But I'm willing to try this—with you."

Your heart grew ten times its size, you were sure of it.

"Yeah?"

He nodded, kissing your knuckles. "If you'll let me."

"We'll figure it out together," you said, holding his face in your hands with a smile.

"I'd like that," he whispered, grin turning cheeky. "On one condition."

"What?" Your brows furrowed.

"Morning kisses are mandatory."

You let out a hearty laugh, sound quick to turn into giggles when Miguel pressed his lips against yours.

It didn't take long for things to get heated.

You were picking up right where you left off last night, a little further given that alcohol wasn't in the equation anymore.

Yet with the way Miguel's hands were roaming your body, grabbing and groping whatever he could reach, tongue hot and heavy as it slipped past your lips, his deep groans vibrating against your palms as you rested it on his chest, his kisses moving their way onto the warm skin on your neck, softly nipping, tongue soothing—it was far more dizzying than any modified alcohol and then some.

It was a familiar voice that broke you off this time.

"Ahem! Uh, hello, I'm here!" It echoed from below. "The baby, too, by the way. So make sure you're…uhm, decent when you bring that thing down."

Miguel pulled away with an annoyed groan, eyes landing on the floating figure that appeared behind you.

If he could kill Lyla with one look—

"What?" she exclaimed. "I didn't say anything!"

"She didn't! You guys just weren't particularly…quiet," Peter B. defended on her behalf, chuckling. "And this place has the worst echo."

"Yeah, that's your fault," you whispered against his lips, pecking him one last time before getting off his lap.

He wasn't particularly happy about that either.

You pushed the button before he could say anything, the platform descending, smiling at him all innocent.

"I'm not done with you," he warned, voice deep with lust it made your whole body tingle.

"I'm counting on it." You winked, hopping off the platform before he could even respond.

Mayday landed in your arms before you could take a step.

"Hi, beautiful girl!" you greeted cheerfully, her chubby cheeks lifting as she giggled at you. "

"I wouldn't rush it," you heard Peter say.

"What?" Miguel gritted, still so annoyed.

"I know you're thinking about having a baby with her."

You bit back a laugh.

The utter silence from Miguel made it so much harder.

"You know nothing," he grumbled.

"Maybe," Peter chuckled, patting him on the back. "About time you made your move though."

Miguel grumbled something incoherent and turned back towards the screen.

Still, you caught the smile he was trying to hide.

It made you warm and fuzzy inside.

You walked over to him with Mayday in your arms. "Say hi to Uncle Miggy!"

Always your best accomplice, Mayday made grabby hands at him, blubbering, "Middy! Middy!"

Miguel sighed, carefully taking Mayday from you, before giving her a soft smile—the only other person he wasn't grumpy to. "Hello, peanut."

She giggled in response, climbing onto his shoulders, settling on them with her arms above his head. She always loved being so tall.

Miguel shot you a glare then, no heat to it at all. If anything, it was filled with pure fondness.

You grinned at him.

"You're a bad influence," he whispered to you.

"I don't think I am, Middy," you teased, standing on your tippy toes to place a kiss on his lips.

The way he suddenly turned flustered was adorable.

And when Mayday made a yucky sound, and Peter B. laughed, you knew your work of teasing him for the day was done.

"Come on, bub, let's go get you ice cream," you called, the little girl giggling in delight before jumping into your arms. You sent Miguel a wink before leaving him to deal with his beloved friend's teasing. Peter was practically waiting for this moment.

Many people regretted what they had done while drunk, especially when it involved something embarrassing.

Not you.

You regret nothing at all.

✫*｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ♛ *.

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midnightshade · 10 months

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GojoHime: Evidence and Discussion

Jujutsu Kaisen isn't a romance series. It's a horror action series that focuses more on platonic bonds and camaraderie between its characters. That being said, just as any shounen series, it has its fair share of ships, each with its own assortment of crumbs and small details.

GojoHime is a particularly interesting ship to look at. Being a massive fan of it myself, it's fun to pick through the evidence that supports it. I'd like to share the evidence that I and many other GojoHime fans have found. I'll be starting with the smaller, weaker evidence first and working my way up to the strongest evidence.

Before I start in earnest, I want to clarify that this isn't made to attack any other ship. People can ship whatever they want, and no ship in the series is canon (aside from exceptions like Hakari and Kirara). I like GojoHime so I want to talk about it. That's really it.

With that out of the way, let's begin.

First, let's start with the evidence outside of the manga itself. This one isn't very compelling, but it is cute. In Japan, there is a chip brand called Bakauke. Bakauke has two mascots known as Borin and Barin, who are girlfriend and boyfriend. When Bakauke collabed with Jujutsu Kaisen, Utahime and Gojo were chosen to represent the Borin and Barin respectively, thus being depicted as girlfriend and boyfriend.

Moving on to evidence found within the actual manga, we see that on the splash page for Gojo and Utahime, the print behind them depicts arrows known as a Yagasuri pattern. In Japan, this is a symbol often used for weddings. It's meant for good luck because "a shot arrow does not return," and therefore, a married woman does not (or should not) return to her parents.

We also see depictions of them under an umbrella often used at weddings. Sharing an umbrella is also a common romantic trope in Japan.

Other smaller evidence exists in the form of their phone call. This consists a beeper code, where the number of their call spells out "I like you" in code, and another interesting detail is that Satoru calls Utahime from his recent contacts, implying that he calls her often.

Gojo and Utahime were made to be opposites. Aside from the obvious "opposites attract" trope, it creates a compelling visual story between them. Man and woman, strong and weak, modern and traditional, blue and red. Satoru hates alcohol and loves sweets while Utahime loves alcohol but hates sweets.

Gege said Gojo only puts down his Technique with people he trusts, which we see him do with Utahime. He trusts her enough to have to actively put his Technique back in place after she throws a teacup at him.

Moving on to some of the strongest and most convincing evidence, we have Waka Inoue, Utahime's very own technique, and Gege's past works.

Gojo had a picture of Waka Inoue as his background as a teenager. He clearly finds her attractive, as is common, considering she's a popular model, but the reason why this is important is that Inoue shares a lot of similarities with Utahime.

Both women have noticeable bangs, they're the same height (166cm), and they share a love for alcohol, karaoke, and sports, specifically baseball. Waka is described once as a "competitive crybaby who hates to lose," and as we see in the Anime, Gojo has a way of firing Utahime up and she is also prone to being a bit of a scaredy-cat and a crybaby. We also see her more competitive side come out during the baseball tournament between Kyoto and Tokyo.

Moving on to Utahime's Cursed Technique, as some Japanese fans have pointed out, Utahime's Soro Soro Kinku (Solo Forbidden Area) is based on a real love song about forbidden love with lyrics about a masked lover. The records from the singer, Akina Nakamori, are called Utahime records, and the singer even does Gojo's unlimited void hand sign during her live performances of her song, "Fin."

The most compelling bit of evidence for me is Gege's past works. Two of his three one-shot manga have characters who are very similar to Gojo and Utahime. The male protagonist is usually cocky and teases the female protagonist, while the female protagonist gets annoyed at his antics but is otherwise down to earth and kind.

In Nikai Bongai Barabarujura, the protagonist, Noroma, reminds me of teen Gojo in appearance and behavior. He is "the strongest" who teases Nodoka, the female protagonist, for being weak but has an obvious respect for her drive and inner strength.

In Kamishiro Sosa, we have a similar set-up as before. The male protagonist, Ganji, is very energetic and careless with the female protagonist, Rekko's, feelings, and is seen to have a very similar type of banter as Gojo and Utahime have.

Gege clearly likes that type of pairing, which isn't surprising given the bickering couple and rivals to lovers is a popular trope in romance. It's not unusual for Mangaka to reuse old ideas, and that seems to be what happened with Gojo and Utahime. Even their appearances share similarities.

As you can see, GojoHime has a lot of thought put into it, and it's very interesting to see the little details Gege has put into their dynamic. There's definitely a reason why so many adore this pairing, and I'm glad Gege has paid attention to that.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojohime #gouta #gojo satoru #iori Utahime #forbidden writings #jjk meta

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sanjoongie · 4 months

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𝔚𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔖𝔢𝔞 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔐𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔐𝔢𝔱

@pirateeznet 's Secret Admirer event

🏔For @staytinyville, i hope you enjoy this, i had fun weaving this tale for you 💞 sorry it was late once again

🌊Pairing: Njord! Prince! Jeong Yunho x Skaldi! Princess! Reader (f)

🏔Genre: smut, angst (happy ending), fluff

🌊Au: Norse mythology au, njord and skaldi au, mythology retelling au, royal au, medieval au, historical au

🏔Trope: strangers to lovers, opposites attract

🌊Warnings: mentions of parent's death, mentions of someone falling deathly ill, hand kink HELLO, fingering (f), wall sex, penetrative sex with no barrier, nipple play, big dick! yunho

🏔Word count: 5,178

🌊Beta's:

🏔Summary: upon your father's murder, a council allows you to choose a husband as recompense--based on what his hands look like. Yunho, a prince of the sea, and you, a princess of the mountains, are as opposite as you can get, so can you make the marriage work?

🌊Author's Note: the story of Skaldi, a giantess and goddess of the mountain and her husband, Njord, God of the Sea, intrigued me enough to want to try a re-telling. I changed the feet to hands, in choosing a husband, and who is better to use that than mofo jeong yunho

Once upon a time, when the world was young, a woman experienced a father's death and was repaid with a choice of her husband.

"But you must choose by his hands."

The woman chose hands that were callused, for surely a strong husband would come from those hands.

Instead, she chose the man who couldn't be more than the opposite of her. This is a retelling of their story.

You stared intently at the set of hands in front of you. Each owner of said hands were behind a heavy curtain so that you could not pick your future husband based on his appearance but based solely on his hands.

You were hoping for San, if truth be told. You wanted the happy prince who was also known to throw himself into work with his fellow peasants. You wanted to add his giggles to your empty castle, now with your father gone.

There was one set of hands that continued to draw you back. They were long and lovely but also they had calluses; they had seen hard work. Surely they belonged to San? Without another thought, you pointed to the hands you had been admiring and hoped for the best.

The curtain parted and… instead of San’s pleased smile that he had been chosen, you were met with the wide eyes of Yunho’s. The two of you stared at each other, unable to comprehend that you were to be wed to the prince who lived by the sea, the complete opposite to your mountainous upbringing.

“Wait--!”

"No, princess, this is your choice,” The counselor preceding over your choice proclaimed. “The death of your father is repaid. You have a husband now.”

You and Yunho were ushered into an antechamber to sign the papers and a small ceremony made it official. It was clear everyone wanted you out of here before you demanded even more over the death of your father.

“First, you should live in the domain of your husband,” The priest informed you. “You need to understand who he is before you take him to your home.”

The plan was to spend ten days at Yunho's place by the sea and you were already not looking forward to it. The sea was not your favorite place. And once you arrived, it really just confirmed how you felt.

Except now there was Yunho.

Yunho was a shy prince. He dined with you in the morning, offering options of how you could spend the hours of your day. The walk along the shore was hardly what you would consider romantic. You struggled under the shifting sands, always managing to carry some home with you. The squawking of the seabirds always interrupted your questions towards Yunho in order to learn more about your new husband and his home. You couldn't even appreciate some of the cliffs by the sea, the closest thing to home for you, because of the bashing of the cursed waves against the walls of stone. You were starting to think the gods were playing with you; that they still wanted you to suffer.

“Princess?” Yunho brought you back to reality.

You had picnic-ed in the dunes beside the sea with a sturdy blanket and practically everything weighed down so that the hefty winds didn’t blow away anything you planned on dining on or with.

“Apologies, Yunho, what did you say?” You wondered, sipping the strawberry rhubarb wine.

“There’s a story that they tell of how the first king was found. It was said that he would never become king. The prophecy said that when the fishermen of the area would find a diamond in the sands, then their king would finally be found.”

You scoffed at the fanciful tale. “Sounds like no one wanted a king to be found.”

Yunho laughed. “One would think. But truly, what the purpose of the story is, is that kings can be found but the right king, a good one for the people and for the kingdom, is like a diamond in the sand.”

You thoughtfully ate a tiny sandwich--emphasis on the sand part of the sandwich--and attempted to not wince at the grit in your mouth. “So a good king was found?”

Yunho shrugged, blinking furiously when wind blew hair in front of his face. His hands attempted to push it back and you were momentarily distracted. Those hands had been your downfall. “Oh, we had kings alright, but no one has truly found the diamond in the sand.”

Yunho had yet to touch you with those hands. You hadn't consummated your marriage but you were sure that had more to do with this poorly-worded trial period than anything else. Ten days to learn about your husband and ten days for him to learn of you in your realm. The marriage wasn’t made for two romantic fools, it was a settlement on reparations done to you. The lost of your father still panged in the depths of your heart but Yunho’s ‘love’ hadn't done anything to settle the lose, truly. Perhaps your heart wasn’t truly into it. Perhaps--

Yunho sighed and began to pack up. He was used to you losing yourself in your thoughts. “Back to the castle then? I’m sure your handmaiden could prepare a cool room for you.”

Ah, the disappointment coating your husband’s words. “Yunho, I--”

Yunho shook his head. “Do not worry about it, Princess. You head back. I’ll clean this up.” Yunho held out your parasol with a face that didn’t speak of his disappointment at all.

The two of you spoke the same language but it always seemed like you never understood each other. Yunho was patient and you attempted to show interest in his world but you compared everything; it couldn't be helped.

Yunho’s world was too windy, too warm, too loud, too much. You were used to solitude, you were used to your halls in the mountains. This world Yunho loved so much was too much for you. You often found yourself pulling back to the comfort of your tower that Yunho had declared was yours. He thought the height would help you remind you of home and it did, but in the worst ways. You simply pinned for home that much more.

Before you knew it, the final night in Yunho’s home was upon you. You wanted to go home so badly but you didn’t want to lay it on Yunho. So you smiled politely as he brought you through the town around the castle, a bustling morning market that had you avoiding the touch of the crowd so much that Yunho knew he had failed you once again.

“Princess?” Yunho offered his hand to you. He had one final plan to enact.

You cautiously gave Yunho your hand and he protectively pulled you into an enclave away from the crowds. Yunho’s height allowed him to tower over you. Suddenly you were very, very close to your husband but he didn’t let go of your hand.

Yunho sent a hopeful smile your way and you felt a jolt in your chest. What the hell was that? “If you will allow me one more excursion tonight? I promise, I have one final surprise that I would like to share with you. It is my favorite. I left the best for last.”

You bowed your head. “Of course, husband,” you agreed.

The day dragged by. The food that had been hand chosen by you and Yunho had been cooked for a midday meal and Yunho showed you bright gardens cultivated behind the walls of the castle. You smiled and listened politely but you couldn't help but think of what kind of surprise Yunho had been hiding you all this time. Why not surprise you the first night to impress you? Your husband was still a mystery to you, it seemed.

The sun set and you waited in your rooms for your husband to retrieve you. And you waited. And waited. Then you began to pace. Was this waiting on purpose? Was he looking to vex you? After hours passed, you were about to rip the hinges off your door and storm the castle looking for your husband before he politely knocked on your door. You smoothed your hair back, picking something off the skirt of your dress and let your handmaiden know your husband could enter.

Yunho’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “You will need those hiking boots of yours, Princess, and a change of clothes. This is not a dress excursion.”

Yunho led you to the sea and you were beginning to think that your husband truly didn’t understand you. He was simply taking you to every place in his kingdom and expecting you to love it. You weren’t sure if this was going to work, if at all. You couldn't simply throw away what was given to you. It somehow belittled your father’s death. But could you take a lifetime of this?

With a hand raised with a lantern, and your hand in his other, Yunho led you inside of a cliffside cave. For a while, there was only the soft sound of the water dripping down stalactites and the squeak of the lantern on its handle. Yunho didn’t feel the need to fill the air with conversation and you were stewing in your thoughts, if you were being honest.

But when the tunnel through the cave opened up into a larger room, your jaw couldn't help but fall to the floor. Inside was a pool of calm water that almost perfectly reflected the night sky through an opening in the roof. You could see the moon, the constellations your father had taught you, even some fluffy clouds as they floated across the night’s sky. It was beautiful.

“They say this place used to be the home to mermaids. One of my great grandfather’s married one apparently. This place has been kept sacred ever since.” Yunho’s eyes had been raised to the sky but then he lowered them to yours. “Do you like it?”

You opened your mouth but found that you had no words. At least, you had none of the easy words that had been tearing down Yunho and his home piece by piece. “It’s lovely,” You managed.

Yunho allowed himself to smile hesitantly. “Do you know the story about the god who froze their toe and it became a constellation in the sky?”

You moved towards the pool and sat at the edge of it. You were completely comfortable looking at the sky through the portal of the water. “That one always made me laugh as a child. Now I shudder at freezing a toe and breaking it off.”

Yunho sat beside you, dimming the lantern so you two could see the sky’s reflection clearly. “Ah, I suppose that’s a worry from where you’re from.”

You nodded, pushing some hair out of your face. “Yunho…”

Yunho shook his head. “I know we leave for your home tomorrow.”

Yunho’s soft world was not like yours at all. You worried for him. “I don’t expect to find it beautiful,” You admitted.

Yunho smiled somewhat bittersweetly. “Like you didn’t find mine?”

You sighed. “Your world is too much. Too much sun, too much noise, it’s not what I’m used to.”

Yunho's hand beside yours twitched. His pinky moved but his hand did not. “I tried. I shared with you everything I love. I wanted you to be happy, if that means anything.”

“It’s not your fault, Yunho,” You allowed. “I did pick you, after all.”

“You didn’t want me though,” Yunho said.

“You didn’t want me to pick you!” You retorted with a laugh.

Yunho half-laughed with you. “Well, I didn’t expect you to pick me, that’s for sure.”

You cocked your head. Your hand moved a little closer to his. “You’re the one with the pretty hands that are also callused. It’s your fault really.”

Yunho chuckled. His hand moved until both your pinkies were touching. “I still work the fishing boats every Manadagr morning.” He looked at you through the corner of his eye. “And what do you mean my hands are pretty?”

You winced. You had not meant for that to slip. “You know…” you let the uncertain air hang between you two.

Yunho nudged you with his shoulder. “No, I really don’t.”

You sighed again but picked up one of his hands. You played with his lithe fingers, feeling birds thrash against your ribcage. “They’re hard working hands but they’re pretty. I want…” If only your father could see you now, your courage failing you simply because your heart was betraying you right now.

Yunho grasped both of your hands between his. “You want?” He prompted you.

You swallowed hard, not sure if you had it in yourself to tell your husband you lusted after his hands. “Yunho, I--”

“We haven’t kissed since we became husband and wife,” Yunho blurted out. His eyes widened at his own words and then you watched as redness crept up his ears.

That was the second time you were speechless tonight.

Yunho let go of your hands, dropping them like they were hurting him, and mumbled about going back now.

“Yunho, wait!” You stood up to stop him.

“I’m sorry you don’t feel the same way, but I really like you!” Yunho blurted out again. “I’ve planned all these outings and every time I only seemed to annoy you or let you down. I’ve felt your bad mood darken and develop like a storm in the middle of the sea get worse as it came closer to the coast. I won’t apologize for trying to woo you but I want you to love me!”

It was as if an arrow from Ullr hit your heart. So instead of speaking, since you were failing in that regard, you let your body speak for you. You wrapped your arms around Yunho’s neck, pulled him down and you kissed him. You didn’t kiss him with passion and lust but rather with a need to tell him that he had been enough.

Yunho looked so confused when you released him that you had to giggle. If you had thought his ears were red before, they now appeared as hot as iron in the forge. “Your ears get red when you’re embarrassed, Husband. Do my kisses embarrass you?”

Yunho’s eyes avoided yours but a smile he couldn't fight was pulling at the corners of his lips. “Your kisses do not embarrass me.”

“No?” You teased, leaning to the side to capture his gaze.

Suddenly, Yunho went from an embarrassed man to a dangerous one. His eyes were dark. “No.”

You raised your chin defiantly. “Then prove me wrong.”

Yunho cupped your head between his beautiful hands and then kissed you. His kiss was different. It was soft but it was deep. His tongue sought out yours and you met him halfway. His kiss pulled the lust that was bubbling deep in your womb. You pushed onto your toes again, meeting his kisses with lust of your own and Yunho moaned into your mouth.

His hands steadied your hips and he broke the kiss. With his forehead pressed to yours, he panted against your lips. “Will you let me make you mine?”

“Only if you’ll let me claim you,” You countered.

Yunho’s eyes traveled over your face. You didn’t know what he was looking for but whatever he found there, it seemed to satisfy him. “I didn’t mean to lure you here to seduce you,” He admitted, as if he was half apologizing that your first time together would be in a cave.

“I may be a princess, Husband, but I am no soft woman. I’ve fucked in worse places,” You snickered.

Yunho’s eyes widened before he half smiled at your boldness. “Then let me have you by the sea and the sky and let the gods witness our consummation of our marriage.”

You impulsively grabbed Yunho’s hand and sucked on his middle and index fingers. Your tongue swirled around his long digits and you said huskily. “Show me why I picked these pretty hands, husband.”

Yunho’s now slick fingers reached under your pants and pressed to your clit. You tossed your head back in ecstasy as he easily rubbed you, warming you up from the inside out.

You guided his other hand to grope your breast and you watched in awe as his fingers nimbly pulled at the tie at your chest in order to spill your breast out for him. He neatly tugged and pulled and played with your nipple.

His fingers became bolder as they dipped lower to find your own slick dripping from between your folds. “Wife of mine, why are you so wet?”

You moaned. “You, Yunho, it’s all because of you.”

“Do my fingers give you that much pleasure?” Yunho teased you lightly.

“They look so pretty against my body,” You admitted.

Yunho whirled you around suddenly, your back to his chest. It gave you an easy view of Yunho twirling your nipple in one hand and his other playing with your cunt. You swallowed hard, suddenly very tempted by your own husband’s hands.

“Will you come undone simply from my hands playing with you, princess?” Yunho wondered, his voice husky against the shell of your ear.

Your mind was silent and empty, with only one voice chanting ‘feels so good feels so good feels so good’ over and over. You had a one track mind, and it was coming against Yunho’s fingers. You gyrated your hips into the motions of Yunho’s fingers. Your first orgasm came easy, tempted from the nimble hands that had condemned you to your current fate.

Your hand went behind you, behind Yunho’s neck, for support as you trembled against his chest. “Oh Yunho, oh gods, it’s so goddamn good, Hel’s left tit.”

“I'm not sure if I should be proud of that,” Yunho laughed behind you.

“Oh, you should be proud of that,” You assured him. “I can’t brag of many men that could get me to climax that fast.”

Yunho pulled his fingers from you and you turned your head and watched as he cleaned them diligently. He hummed as if he had a taste of honeyed wine and you pressed your lips together. “Will you take me now?”

With Yunho’s other hand, he cupped your face and ran his thumb against your lips. “I would see your face when I bring you to your next peak,” Yunho informed you.

You nodded and immediately Yunho’s hands went around your waist to hoist you upwards. You had no choice but to wrap your legs around Yunho’s waist as he sought a section of cave wall that wasn’t dripping with water.

Yunho's hands dived into your hair to hold your head in place as he kissed you again. Yunho was hungry for you. His lips went from pink to red as they became swollen from the kissing. His tongue twirled around yours, looking to intertwine with every part of you. He only set you down so that you could strip your pants off and he could push his down to his thighs. You pulled at the rest of your shirt, giving Yunho complete access to your chest.

Your back was pressed up against the wall again, legs around his waist, except now Yunho’s curved, glorious cock was pressed up against you. “Yunho,” You cooed his name.

“I’ll go slow; so slow. I’ll be careful,” Yunho promised.

Yunho's hand tilted your head so that he could place kisses along your neck as he rubbed the underside of his dick against your wetness. His kisses continued along your jaw as his cock slid downwards. You held your breath to wait for him to penetrate you but Yunho simply fucked his cock between your thighs, the top of his cock now getting a good coating.

“What if I don’t want it slow?” You growled.

Yunho laughed, his shoulders shaking under your hands. “I must. You can endure it, surely?” He tilted his head flirtatiously, although it was still a challenge directed to you.

Yunho didn’t wait for you to answer, he brushed the head of his cock against your hole. You cocked your hips to give him easier access and you both moaned loudly as he entered you. Yunho spent equal time watching your face as he watched his cock make its way into you. He slid inch by precious inch with dedication only a man with grace could manage. You wiggled your hips and whined, but Yunho simply cupped your face and pushed a thumb into your mouth to silence.

Yunho braced himself against the wall with his free hand and reached under one of your legs to cock it so that you were spread even wider for him. “Let’s make the motion of the ocean jealous.”

“Gods, Yunho,” You cried out.

His hips worked between your legs that were stuttering at best. Your cunt fought him for every inch he could manage. Yunho was soon sweating and stuttering. “You’re so--gods, so tight! I--” He moaned, biting down on his lower lip. “Your warmth encompasses me so completely.”

“I never imagined being with you would be so consuming,” You whispered to him.

“I have needed you for such a long time,” Yunho told you, kissing you sweetly. “I thought you would never let me touch you.”

“I would never let these hands not touch me, husband,” You informed him.

Yunho paced himself inside of you. He didn’t pound into you until you indicated to him that your climax was approaching. “I’ll not last any longer than you,” Yunho admitted, “I’ll follow your lead.”

With that said, Yunho reached under your other leg and you had nothing to brace against except the wall behind your back. Yunho had complete control of the pace and it was grueling. He fucked you mercilessly, the slapping of skin against skin echoing against the rock walls. With a scream, you came hard, and Yunho was good on his word. He came as soon as your pussy walls fluttered around him. He gasped, high pitched and desperate.

The two of you came down slowly, breaths intersecting each other as you kissed lazily. Yunho’s thrusts came to a stop eventually and he let down one leg, then the other, leaning back to pull his softening cock from your cunt.

You gathered your pants and tied back up your shirt. “Yunho…”

“I’m sorry,” Yunho squeaked.

Your head shot up to look at your husband. His ears were red-hot and his eyes were shaking slightly. “Sorry for what? For giving your wife your seed? For giving her a climax? What’s to apologize for?”

“I--I don’t know what took over me!” Yunho said with wide eyes. “I just knew I had to bring you to your climax and you looked so pretty with your eyebrows furrowed and your mouth parted, I simply wanted to come with you as well, I--” Yunho laughed at himself, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m making a fool of myself, aren’t I?”

“Yunho.” You grabbed his hand between yours and kissed it. “You are fine. Everything is fine. You were wonderful.”

Yunho smiled, then wiped his face blank, then smiled again. “You were wonderful,” he murmured, biting his lower lip again.

“Will you escort me back to my room?” You suggested.

“Will you hold my hand?” Yunho replied.

You both knew the answers to your questions.

Your trip to the mountains was a different one from the sea. You and Yunho huddled inside a carriage for the better part of the day. Which was fine between the two of you. You kissed and giggled and acted like newlyweds, finally. You had Yunho and some heavy fur coverings and you were heading to your childhood home, where you would reside for all of the winter months. You had no worries hanging over your head. You had been too drunk on love to realize that as much as you hated Yunho’s world, the same would be true for him.

That evening, in your grand, empty hall the two of you dined. You were at one end and Yunho in your father’s seat. You were so far apart, neither of you talked much. The servants offering each course and the clatter of utensils against plates were the only sounds in the vast space.

You had a gnawing uncertainty in your gut but it was quickly banished when Yunho came to your bed that night. You rode Yunho in your childhood bed, rocking your hips and making him hold your breasts in place as you coaxed the both of you to an easy climax. You fell asleep in Yunho’s arms and thought everything was right in the world.

Except it wasn’t for Yunho.

It was worse because he always attempted to brush it off. You would watch him smile brightly when you asked him if he was cold, but then he would frown and run his hands up and down his arms. He denied getting lost and insisted he wished to see the sweeping views your castle offered. He told you it was picture perfect but you had a sense he simply wished to go back inside.

Not that inside was any better. You offered him walks along the long corridors lined with your ancestor’s portraits. He yawned as you explained each of their hard-earned exploits at protecting this castle. He glanced cursory over the fine treasures that your family had accumulated during their reign.

Eventually, you two spent less and less time with each other. You began to spend long hours in your father's study, writing letters to your vassals to be sent by carrier pigeon. You weren’t entirely sure what Yunho did with his free time, but you often caught him staring off into the air, like he wasn’t even present.

You watched your glowing prince of the shore fade. It killed you when you made love and could see the tired circles under his eyes. And still Yunho would smile at you and insist that he was alright. Yunho would stop showing up for dinner. When he collapsed on his way to your bedroom one evening, that was the end of the line.

You immediately sent Yunho away. He was bundled up in the same carriage that had brought the two of you to the mountains. Your wise woman traveled with him to inform the doctor’s in Yunho’s land of what ailed the prince. You promised with a soft kiss, careful of how frail Yunho appeared, to follow him as soon as you could.

The first month when you didn’t show up, Yunho sent a letter. He made plenty of excuses on your behalf. He understood you had to rule in your father’s stead and you had been away for a while by meeting with the council and visiting his kingdom. Then when a month turned into two, he asked about your health, which was fine. Then the third month, your husband showed up on your doorstep, banging on your bedroom door.

“Yu-yunho!” You stuttered, shocked to find your husband in your castle, let alone in your kingdom.

“What have I done now?” He raged. “Why have you not come back for me?”

You were taken aback by his questions and his anger. You had never seen this side of Yunho before. Your mouth opened and closed but you found that you could form no words. Your husband was always making you speechless.

“I promise you I’m not a sickly individual. You needn’t worry about our heirs. It was just a lapse. I can do better!” Yunho informed you as he strode into your room.

You quietly closed your door and watched as Yunho paced in your room. His hands moved around as he spoke and you cursed yourself for always being drawn to them.

“Yunho,” You said his name quietly, gathering up his hands. You kissed the back of each hand and looked up at him forlornly. “Living with me made you sick. It was your love for me that made you fade. I don’t want you to die.”

Yunho blinked at you, a cute moment that you had to push away because of the serious discussion. “What?”

“You can’t live here. It’s detrimental to your health. I can’t live with you, it would drive me insane. We simply aren’t meant to be. I think it would be better if we--”

“No.” Yunho shook his head. “No, I will not get a divorce.”

You frowned. “Yunho, we must.”

“No!” Yunho said more forcefully. He gathered you to his chest, with your head against his breast. You could hear the beating of his heart, quick but firm. “I won’t let you.”

You allowed yourself one more moment in your husband's arms and then you pushed him away gently. “It’s not meant to be, Yunho. We’ll only end up miserable with each other. I don’t ever want our love to twist into hatred.”

Yunho’s lips dipped downwards and it looked like he was fighting some tears. “But I love you.”

You felt your throat tighten. “I know you do.”

“Don’t you love me too?” He pressed.

“I do but it’s not enough. My love won’t keep you healthy. My love isn’t a sustenance which you can live on. My love--”

Yunho cupped your cheeks with both hands, your head feeling tiny in his large hands. His thumbs rubbed against your cheeks. When had you started crying? “I can’t take care of you, Yunho. It’s all I want and yet I’m not capable.”

“I don’t care what it takes,” Yunho said. “I will build a castle at the halfway point between our kingdoms. We will make every official travel to us to deal with the problems of both kingdoms. But I cannot remain separated from you. I will die from that, that I can promise you. You don’t want me to die from a broken heart, do you?”

You tipped your head up, to see Yunho’s half smile, part somber and part hopeful. You loved him, you loved him with all your heart, you knew that. But wouldn’t your love kill the both of you? Spirit, body and mind?

Yunho shook his head. “Don’t think with your mind, for once, think with your heart.”

“Yunho--”

Yunho put a finger over your mouth. “Husband,” he quietly corrected you.

You admitted defeat. You knew you would also die from a broken heart if you couldn't spend the rest of your days on Midgard with Yunho, with your husband. You barely survived your father’s death, you couldn't handle another loss.

“I love you, husband of mine,” You whispered.

With a choked sob, Yunho gathered you in his arms once again, hugging you tightly and kissing the crown of your head. The soft kisses turned into hard ones, Yunho desperate for you, hungry for you, since he hadn't been with you for months. You moaned into his mouth and pressed your body even tighter against his.

“Will you let me make you mine?” You echoed the words Yunho had once spoken to you in the sea cave.

“Only if you’ll let me claim you,” Yunho repeated your words back to you.

“Then let me have you by the mountains and the rocks and let the gods witness our love for each other,” You said, solemnly. “You never know, maybe they’ll write our love story into a saga.”

#pirateadmirer #pirateeznet #kvanity #kwritersworldnet #cultofdionysusnet #ateez smut #jeong yunho smut #atz smut #yunho smut #topaz's work #ღatz #ateez scenarios #jeong yunho scenarios

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springseasonie · 11 months

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Two worlds apart | JJH (M)

Prince Jaehyun x maid fem reader, arranged marriage trope, forbidden love trope

Part 2.

Summary: Jaehyun can't stay away from you, even on his wedding night. And his new wife knows about the fondness you both have for each other, but is willing to rip it apart. However, the last thing Jaehyun wants is to be a part from you, for better or for worse. (This is based in 19th century england, regency era fashion bc i love bridgerton and used it for inspo for this fic.)

Warnings: sexual content, angst, unprotected (it's literally the 19th century), standing sex, infidelity, historically inaccurate but idc, proofread but there may be little mistakes here and there

Word count: 7,2k

Song recs: cool with you by new jeans

A/N: this was requested but I loved the idea so much that I had to write more than needed lmao. Wasn't intending to write smut for this but sometimes shit happens. Feedback is loved and appreciated as always 🩷🩷

"Jaehyun?"

You rubbed your eyes, voice groggy from just being woken out of your sleep. The prince was in the maid's quarters. Why was he in the maid's quarters? It was the night after his wedding and was spending it on one of his family's many estates, but why was he not spending his night with his new wife and looking for you?

"My grace, what are you doing–"

He pulled the covers off you quickly, wild eyes looking between you and the other maid that was fast asleep on the other side of the room. The oil lamp was bright, shining in your eyes in the pitch black room. "Come on," he said quietly, pulling you up from your bed.

You shook your head, trying to get away from him, but his grip was too strong. Before you knew it, you were out the door of your room and being pulled down the hall of the basement. "M-my grace, you shouldn't be doing this right now," you said, trying to remain calm as your heart basically beat from your chest.

"Y/N, I tried, I really did." Jaehyun led you up the stairs, looking around for any guards or any of his wife's staff.

His hold on your hand was strong as he sped walk through the hall, wanting to avoid the lurking eyes of anyone who might ruin his plans for the night. Jaehyun was the prince of Florin, a small but wealthy country. His whole life, he was mentally beaten with the responsibility of continuing the family line, marrying a princess from another country to join Florin and make it richer and more powerful. His parents were never in love, his mother only fulfilling her responsibility as a woman and bearing a child for the king.

His whole life he thought love wasn't a real thing, that's what his father told him anyway. "Love is weak. It makes you weak, and you can't be weak in a world where weakness gets you nowhere." He believed these words for a long time, never having a reason to care about anyone, or even himself. That was true until he met you. You were his first love, and possibly his last. Jaehyun couldn't even tell you when and why he loves you so much he just did and he wanted to be with you forever, but he knew that couldn't be. Both of you did.

You couldn't say you were in love with him, but you definitely fell first. Maybe it was his handsome face, regal demeanor, the way he carried himself. You didn't know. But what you did know is that your feelings crossed the line. You remember the first time he kissed you after making you confess your feelings, the smile on his face, the way he looked down at you in his fancy clothes. At that moment you knew you couldn't get yourself out of the hell hole you were in now.

You and Jaehyun have been flirting around for years, him always pulling you away from your responsibilities. He often snatched you from your duties in the kitchen, taking you into the pantry to kiss and talk to you. The other maids saw the way he looked at you, but never said a word about it. He would watch you around the castle, eyes lingering and never looking away even when they should. His parents knew how much he liked you, but never said anything. But one day, his mother did catch the both of you. She threatened to have your head on a stick, but Jaehyun convinced her it was all him and she let you stay.

Jaehyun pulled you to the back of the estate, opening the door as he walked you through the rain.

"My grace, it's storming. We shouldn't be out here," you shouted, covering your head as much as you could. Jaehyun didn't care about the rain, he didn't care about anything. He just needed to be alone with you.

Jaehyun didn't say anything, his face remained completely stone cold as he pulled you under the cabana a ways from his home. He stood in front of you, staring at your bewildered face. Your hair was wet, moist eyes shining in the moonlight. The fabric of your clothes were clinging to your skin, the now wet gown going see through.

You hadn't even noticed, but Jaehyun did. He was right to always be a gentleman, to never let his desires cloud his eyes, but goodness. Your chest looked so good through the fabric. However, he has to remain calm and collected. Jaehyun took a deep breath, gulping before speaking.

"I want to be with you Y/N."

You truly did not know what to say. He pulled you out of your bed in the middle of the night out into the rain just to tell you this? "My grace, is this what you woke me for?"

Jaehyun took your hands looking down at you, eyes shifting between your eyes and lips. "I don't want to be married to her Y/N." His eyes shook, grip on your hands getting tight. He needed to be near you, close to you. For the past couple of months, you were his world, his only concern. But being forced into a marriage with a woman he barely knew for a week crushed him. He knew he couldn't be with you, but it hurt nonetheless.

"We should not be out here. It is your wedding night and you should be with her right now," you said sternly. Jaehyun noticed the way you looked around frantically. You were scared of being caught again, he could tell.

"Don't be scared. There is no one out here on a stormy night like this," he said softly.

"But the queen– she'll kill me if she sees me. She'll kill you if she sees me. Jaehyun we cannot continue like this," you said, brows furrowing. You didn't want to see him in a loveless marriage. You cared for him too much, but you couldn't keep putting your safety on the line. You always felt like he didn't understand you. Jaehyun had always had everything his whole life, never having to live with fear of losing anything or anyone. Of course, his responsibilities as a prince were different from yours – you were just a poor maid after all. But he seems so oblivious to your life and what you do, and this is one of the moments when he thinks life is easy for you just as it is for him.

"My mother says a lot of things. You do not need to worry about her. Her threats are empty," he said with a small smile.

"My grace… you are very naive," you sighed. "I am not safe here. I am not safe with you."

Jaehyun's happy expression slowly fades after hearing your words. You weren't safe with him? "You'll always be safe with me," he said, letting go of your hands.

"We are from 2 different worlds. I can never be safe with you. Even if you shield me with armor, I still wouldn't be safe," you said, taking his hands softly. "Please don't make that face at me."

"I'm not making a face." Jaehyun looked angry and hurt. He couldn't even lie to you even if he tried being the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. But he wasn't hurt by your words, more so the fact that everything you said was true. "I love you Y/N."

You've heard him say he loves you many times, but never like this. This time wasn't like a lovestruck puppy, he said it with conviction. Jaehyun was seriously in love with you. You didn't say anything, the storm getting worse as the big rain droplets fell onto the roof of the cabana, filling the space. "My grace–"

"Please just say my name," he sighed. "Right now it's just you and me. Just say my name, there is no need for formalities."

"Jaehyun," you started, "you can't love me. You must love your wife in the house."

The words stung his heart like needles. The reality of this unwanted situation kept coming through the light over and over again. He did not want to be with anyone that wasn't you and he knew he was in too deep. Just look at him – in the rain with you and not consummating his marriage with his now wife. He hated himself for falling so deeply for you, but was addicted to the fuzzy feeling in his heart, the butterflies in his stomach when he saw you. He wanted it all the time.

"Do you love me?"

You always pushed the thought of loving him to the back of your mind knowing it would get you nowhere, but at the moment, maybe you really did. You would never tell anyone how badly his marriage hurt you, watching him be wedded to a woman he barely knew for a week and expected to have a child with her. It was supposed to be you. In another world or another life it would've been you. But there's no point in suppressing your feelings anymore, not when his pretty brown eyes are looking at you like you're his whole world.

"Jaehyun, I cherish you alot," you answered, not wanting to confess yet. "I'll always cherish you."

"I..I want to be a good husband to her, but I don't think I can," he said. "I don't want to be like my father and have a mistress, I don't think I can live without you."

You hadn't realized you were crying until Jaehyun reached a hand up to your face, cupping your cheek and wiping away your tears with his thumb.

"Please don't cry. I hate seeing you cry," he said softly. Jaehyun pulled you closer to him gently, kissing your forehead.

"I'm tired Jaehyun," you sighed. You didn't want to talk anymore. The more you talked, the more you wanted to cry in his arms. You already had a long stressful day doing whatever task you had to do, so you would rather not create more stress for yourself. "You have a ball tomorrow, and I have to help set it up and help your– my princess."

Jaehyun gulped, reluctantly letting your hands go. Nodding, he took a step back. He did have a ball that he completely forgot about. Instead of getting rest, he was out in this stormy weather with you. "I understand. We will talk again tomorrow."

"Jaehyun–"

"We will talk again tomorrow," he repeated, tone dominant and a bit loud cutting you off.

You shook your head at his persistence. "Fine. We'll talk tomorrow. Goodnight, your grace.

"Goodnight." Jaehyun watched you run off into the rain, covering your head as much as you could to protect yourself from the rain. He wished he could just run away with you far from this place, this country, the palace. But for now all he could do was whisper the words he meant dearly as you ran.

"I love you."

"And are all the decorations ready?"

"Yes, your grace."

"And the invitations have been sent out?"

"Of course your grace."

Princess Rose stood tall as you pulled and tightened her corset, disposition remaining unphased as the garment squeezed her waist without warning. She was beautiful. Many people said she may be the most beautiful woman in the world. When you first met her, you wondered how long it would be until Jaehyun fell out of love with you. Her skin was as clear as a lake, eyes big and brown, body made of soft curves. Her smile lit up a room, but even with her image, Rose demanded respect and power anywhere she went. The perfect princess. The perfect queen.

She cleared her throat, making you glance up to look at her through the mirror. You almost stopped breathing realizing she was staring at you through the reflection, face stone cold. "Everyone out. Except you miss Y/N. You stay."

You tie the string tight in a bow, removing your hands from her body as soon as you are done. All of the other women in the room left in a hurry, not turning back to even get a glimpse of you or her.

The door shut, a loud echo making its way around the room. Rose turned around, her beauty becoming even more evident in the sunlight that peeked through the curtain. You stood there, hands folded in front of you as the both of you stood in silence. Rose looked you up and down, blonde brows scrunching as her mind raced with thoughts.

"I'm not jealous of you, you know," she said, breaking the silence.

You stared back at her confused. Jealousy? Where did that come from? "Jealous? I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean my grace," you said softly.

"I mean I'm not jealous of you," she repeated, a small smile tugging at her lips. But this wasn't a normal smile, it was condescending. "I was told that the prince and I would have some issues to work through in the early days of our marriage but I had no idea that said issue would be his very obvious relationship with his maid."

You stood there completely still. She knew. She knew about you and Jaehyun. Was it last night that she found out? Or did she see something the week she was in the country? You and Jaehyun had been so careful, or at least you tried to be. Jaehyun never cared as much as you did. "Let them find out. I don't care," he would always say.

"Calm down, you looked like you've seen a ghost," she said, laughing dryly. "It's alright that you and him have a secret relationship. I find it cute."

Your once shocked expression slowly turned hard, jaw clenching at the tone of her words. Cute? You didn't like that she called what you and Jaehyun had cute, especially not in that belittling tone. "Are you going to punish me for it?"

Rose suddenly burst into laughter hearing your question, her pretty smile making your stomach turn. "No. Why in the 7 seas would I do that," she said between giggles. "I don't care that he loves you and that you love him. In fact, I'm happy for you. It's hard for the poor to find happiness."

You winced at her statement. So this is what she was really like. Underneath the money, fame, clothes, face, body, she was just like every other royal you ever met. It wasn't surprising, but you didn't think she would shed her skin so quickly.

"I thought he would at least have some sense last night to consummate our marriage." The smile faded from her face, now being replaced with irritation. "A marriage means nothing if you can't produce an heir."

She was right, and it hurt you that she was right. Deep down you wanted all these things with him. The wedding, the wedding night, the honeymoon, the ball – just all of it. It was starting to feel like the princess was throwing all these things you couldn't have in your face. Rose took a step forward, looking at you deep into your eyes with an emotion you couldn't read.

"I know his mother must've caught the two of you at some point," she said quietly. "I'm not his mother, so there is no need to be scared of me."

You let out a small sigh of relief, but the small positive feeling was completely crushed under her feet. "But one thing about me is that I strive to be the best person possible at all times. I will be the best princess, queen, and wife. And the last part doesn't consist of you being with him within these walls."

"So what are you saying?"

Rose squinted her eyes at your sudden drop of honorifics, frown tugging on her lips. "Jaehyun is a very stubborn man, I'm sure you know this. Unless you release him from this mental anguish, he will never be happy, and I'm sure you want him to be happy don't you?"

You did want him to be happy. The only thing you ever wanted from him was to be happy. And your life has taught you that sometimes happiness takes sacrifice. "So you're saying that you want me to end things with him?"

"I knew you were smart," she said with a slight nod. "End things tonight. If you don't, just know things will be painful for the both of you from this point on. Now, do me a favor and let everyone back in."

You hurried to the door, opening it quickly. The other maids all walked back in a hurry, continuing what they were doing like they never stopped. Rose turned around, moving her hair to the front. You've never been more excited to work more than right now. All you wanted to do is delete the conversation you just had from your mind but it weighs heavy.

You have to do it tonight. You have to end things.

All you could hope is that he doesn't make it harder for you.

You stood in Jaehyun's office, the lamp softly brightening the space. It smelled of oak wood and lavender, two of his favorite smells. It was such a small space, completely closed off from the rest of the mansion. His office was his favorite place to be. It offered him lots of privacy especially in these days of high stress. He couldn't stand being pestered with all his royal duties, running away from everyone almost immediately.

You stood in the middle of the room, hands toying with the waist of your apron. You were on cooking duty for the rest of the night, so you were covered in all kinds of food and powders. Jaehyun was supposed to be outside with friends, family, acquaintances , her, but the moment he saw the note from you to come to his office he dropped everything to be there.

The music was blaring through the windows, all you could hear and see were expensive people drinking expensive wine in the most expensive clothes. It was traditional for the bride and groom to just simply be on a honeymoon by now, but because this was a special occasion of joining 2 kingdoms, there was a ball for the night.

You jumped, turning around instantly when the door opened. There stood Jaehyun in the most gorgeous suit you've ever seen. This was going to be very hard for you. Your heart pounded right out of your chest excited to see him but saddened with the thought of breaking his heart.

"I got your note," he said, walking up to you. Jaehyun looked you up and down, a smirk on his face at your messy appearance.

"Don't look at me like that," you said, face growing hot.

A deep chuckle erupted from his throat as he stepped to you, placing a hand on your waist. "I think you look very pretty tonight."

You didn't want to blush but you did, he was far too nice especially when you were covered in food, practically smelling like a bakery. "You should be saying that to your wife."

Jaehyun frowned, sighing at your response. "I did, but she didn't appreciate it as much as you did." He loved your shy, timid attitude. He loved the way you would look at the floor when you were embarrassed or nervous, like you were doing right now.

"J-jaehyun, we cannot continue this," you spoke softly. You needed him to listen to you, but you could tell he wasn't. The man was too busy staring at your lips, eyelids getting heavier the more he stared at you. "We cannot keep seeing each other like this. You are married now and-"

"Please. Can we not talk about this right now," he said softly.

"No. We have to." You removed his hand from your waist, but all he did was put both of them back. At this point, you were internally panicking. Knowing yourself, you can't become assertive with him. Every little touch, look, mention sent you into a spiral. "I want you to be happy and I'm sure you want to be happy. I don't want you to be miserable because of me."

Jaehyun pulled you closer to him gently, staring down into your eyes. "As long as you're around me, I won't be miserable." Jaehyun took your chin gently, tilting your head to look at him. You begin to feel yourself melt into his touch, resolve slowly melting away as he leans in. But you quickly regain your mind, shaking your head as you remove his hand.

"No. I will not do this. I will not be your mistress," you declared, stepping away from him.

Jaehyun stared at you without saying a word, looking at you with an unreadable expression. He knew you better than yourself at this point. When you were nervous or hiding something you would bite the inside of your cheek. Something definitely happened that he didn't know about, and he wants to find out.

"And why not," he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Because you deserve to be happy. You deserve a marriage full of love and happiness and I don't intend on stopping that," you said. You could tell he wasn't listening to you since again, eyes trailing up and down your fully covered body.

"Fine."

Fine. Is that it? "Fine? Is that all you have to say?"

"Yes. I agree. I deserve to be happy."

You didn't understand, lashes fluttering in confusion. It was safe to say that you were a bit hurt, his soft stare turning intense, hands never leaving his front. But nonetheless, you nodded despite not wanting to and gathered your dress in your hands. Walking quickly to the door, you grabbed the knob when he spoke again.

"I don't want you to leave," he said.

You gulped, still turning the knob in silence.

"I said I don't want you to leave." Jaehyun's soft tone switched into a deep dark one, walking up to the door, holding it shut with force. He clearly shocked you and watched you remove your hand from the knob startled. Jaehyun had a million things going on through his mind at the moment, all of them having to do with you. "You aren't being yourself. I want you to tell me why."

"What are you talking about," you said quietly, not knowing if you were going to upset him or not.

"I'm saying that there is something you aren't telling me about and that's why you told me to come here tonight."

You couldn't tell him. Not tonight. Maybe another day or night where his reputation isn't solely based on the way he looks at his new wife. You know how he can be when angry, living and taking care of him and his family for many years now. Jaehyun is horrible at hiding facial expressions, even worse when he has to speak. His words have a bite to them, attitude on full display. You didn't want to ruin his night, be the blame for another reason he won't be happy in the future.

"I don't know what you're implying." You placed your hands behind your back, nerves now affecting your once still hands. You were shaking. This situation was a bit dire. You were only a maid, now being stuck in the middle of relationship politics you wanted nothing to do with. Jaehyun was growing ever more irritated with your persistence claiming there was nothing wrong. You looked like you saw a ghost, eyes continuously shifting between him and the window behind him.

Jaehyun likes to think he was a man of great intuition, always able to read people well. He knew right away it had something to do with Rose. "Did she say something to you?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Rose," he said, making himself more clear. "Did she say something to you? Does she know about last night?"

You didn't answer, but your silence was everything he needed. He was angry, face turning red, lips pursing into a thin line. You've seen him mad, but never this mad. He was a smart man, but very impulsive, so when you saw him reach for the doorknob, your heart stopped for what felt like a million years.

"Please don't," you choked out, looking at him with pleading eyes. "We don't need to make this harder than it already is."

"I will not allow anyone to make any threats towards you, especially not on my property," he growled angrily through gritted teeth. Jaehyun grabbed the knob about to turn it, but stopped feeling your hand on his.

"Stop. Just stop." Your voice cracked, tears on the verge of spilling over. "This is why I agreed to do this. I don't want this, Jaehyun."

"Agreed to do what? Tell me. I demand it." His voice boomed through the room. You were certain people outside the window could hear him, like always he didn't care.

"Rose talked to me today in her room," you said, wiping your tears and sniffling. "She said to end things with you."

"And you agreed?"

"Because I had to," you sobbed. "I just want you to be happy. I don't want to be the reason you can't be happy. I don't want to be your mistress, I want to be your world, but if I have to give that up, I will."

Tears spilled down your face, hot and heavy as you cried. Jaehyun was still angry, but his expression softened as he watched you cry. The man wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace, trapping you in the warmth of his arms. No one has ever cried for him like this. No one has ever cried because of him like this. Jaehyun starts to feel the weight of the situation and regrets all his last actions. Nothing he has said or done has been in an effort to figure any of this out while you're left with the burden.

"It's okay Y/N. I'm sorry," he whispered, stroking your hair gently as he kissed the top of your head. "I'll never let anyone or anything come between us. I don't care what it takes."

You looked up at him, brows furrowing in worry. "But Jaehyun-"

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes. Of course I do."

"Do you love me?"

Yes, I love you. You said the words in your head, but you couldn't get them out. "I.. I.."

Jaehyun sensed your worry, moving his hands to your face, cupping you by both of your cheeks. "I need you to forget about everything that happened today. Forget about whatever she said to you. Just tell me one thing. Tell me if you love me."

"I do love you," you answered sniffling. "I love you Jaehyun."

He wished he could contain the feeling that swelled in his heart finally hearing you say those words but he couldn't, smirk plastered on his face as he wiped your tears with his thumbs softly. Even when you were crying, you were so pretty. He admired you in the silent room, the sound of people chatting and the string instruments being played outside filling the air.

You wrapped your arms around him, huffing his body tight. Jaehyun didn't mind that all the flour was getting on his clothes. He didn't care, as long as you were okay. But Jaehyun wasn't perfect even though he was a prince, he was only just a man.

As much as he hated seeing you sod and cry, there was a tiny voice in the back of his head going on and on about how pretty you were with tears down your face. Your shiny, wet eyes looking up at him wide, brows furrowed. You and Jaehyun had been close before hugging each other or kissing each other when you got the chance, but you've never been close. Jaehyun thought about it all the time, the thought of you pressed against him, hands molding your skin like dough and touching you anyway he wanted. not just telling how much he loves you but showing you.

He was so deep in thought that he never realized that you were staring up at him. "What are you thinking about," you asked softly.

"Just you. Only you." Before you could respond, he leaned down cupping your face as he kissed you deeply. You didn't expect it, stumbling against the wall a bit. Your back was pressed against the wall as Jaehyun pressed his body against yours, lips never leaving yours as he kissed you over and over again. You and Jaehyun have kissed many times, but nothing like this. When he kissed you before, it was sweet and innocent, but this time it's hot and desperate. You've never seen him act this way,

"Jaehyun wait," you painted softly, pulling away from the kiss. Your words went right through him, lips going right to your neck when you pulled away. You grasped his clothed arms being completely taken back by how fast everything was moving.

"I love you Y/N," he said against your neck. "I love you to the moon and back. Just let me show you how much I love you." Jaehyun locked lips with yours once again, almost knocking the air out of your lungs as his hands slid onto your back, undoing the tie that held your apron on your waist.

Placing your hands on his shoulders, you held him close, lips molding with his slowly as he let the fabric drop. Jaehyun's hands moved up your body slowly, cupping your chest through the top of your dress. This sensation was new to you, his touch barely there but you could still feel his fingertips pressing against your nipples. Your hands fell slowly from his shoulders onto his chest, wanting to just take off his jacket, but you were so nervous.

"Don't be nervous, okay," he whispered, taking your hands in his. You hadn't realized it yet, but you were shaking. You opened your eyes only to see him looking at you with the purest expression. "Let me take care of you."

He let go of your hands, placing them on your chest as his fingers toyed with the buttons on the front. You watch him, buttons coming undone one by one in what felt like forever. In this day and age, there are so many layers of clothing before you can see someone's skin. Jaehyun usually becomes irritated with these circumstances, but for some reason they were all the more exciting for him. You on the other hand just wanted to get it over with, anxiety taking over your mind as your thoughts jump from one thing to another.

Jaehyun pulled the sleeves off your shoulders, helping you remove your arms out of the grasp of the fabric. Your dress finally fell from your body. Jaehyun gazed at your figure, you being in nothing but a slip and corset. You were beautiful, probably the most beautiful woman he ever laid his eyes on. "You're so perfect," he sighed, a small smirk on his face.

"Please Jaehyun," you whined quietly. Your eyes fluttered shut as he leaned in, kissing you softly. Jaehyun made quick work of his coat, taking it off and throwing it in the chair next to the fireplace. Next went his waistcoat, lips now moving against yours feverishly. He pulled away for just a second to look at you, but smiled to himself as he watched you fumble with your corset.

"Do you want me to help you with that," he muttered.

You gave him a silent nod as you turned around. Jaehyun skillfully helped you, chuckling to himself. "What's so funny," you asked.

"I just love you so much. That's all," he answered. "I never thought I'd get this close to you."

You smiled to yourself, nodding at his words. "You're so sentimental, it's endearing."

A soft deep chuckle erupted from him, making you shiver. He loosens up the strings and helped you out of the constraining under garment. "I hope I'm still endearing when my cock is inside you." Jaehyun could tell how flustered he made you when he turned you around. You couldn't contain your emotions, palms clinging to your slip as you stared at your feet. "Don't get shy on me now. I want you to watch me. Can you do that?"

You looked up, watching him unbutton his shirt. You have always tried to be the best maid possible, but that never stopped you from having fantasies about him. You always thought about what he would look like under his shirt, or what he would look like on top of you. Now that it's about to happen, there are too many emotions flowing through you at once. One of them was excitement, his chiseled toned body against the dim light of his office, the way he looked at you as he let the shirt off his arms and onto the floor behind him.

"You must really want me don't you?" He took your waist, holding you tight. Jaehyun felt better than he did all day hearing pleasured sighs leave your lips, brows knitting at the feeling of his strong grasp.

"Do you know how pretty you look right now? How pretty you sound when you gasp like that?" Jaehyun began hiking your slip up, watching you gulp, the dress getting shorter and shorter below you. "I will never let anyone take you from me. You're mine, all mine."

"All yours," you whispered, nodding as his fingers trailed from your stomach to right above your soaking wet core. "Please touch me."

Jaehyun obliged, teasing you as his fingers ghosted right above your clit, softly gliding them in the sensitive bud. He watched you, eyes glossed in pleasure as your body twitches, haven't felt this feeling in a while. "So pretty," he whispered, rubbing the bud slowly. "Every part of you."

Soft sweet moans filled his ears as he touched you, gulping as you held onto his arms. Your eyes shut, taking in the pleasure he was giving you.

"Does it feel good?"

"Y-yes," you moaned quietly.

"Look at me my love." Jaehyun's cock jumped in his pants when you did as he asked. You even follow directions perfectly, it's unbelievable. He maintained eye contact with you as he began to rub you faster, evoking whines from your throat. Your nails dug into his skin, not hard enough to scratch it though.

"Jaehyun," you whimpered softly. "M-more, please."

Jaehyun nodded fast, heart growing tender at your cute pleading. He moved from your clit to your wet entrance, fingers rubbing and tracing the hole. Jaehyun slowly pushed his fingers into you, the long thick digits giving you the stretch that you needed. You threw your head back slightly, resting it on the door as you moaned.

"Oh God.." You were already squeezing around his fingers before he started moving them. But you had to hold out, this could be the first and last time you got to do this with him.

"I love you so much," he muttered against your neck as he started pumping his fingers in you slowly. The noises coming from you were astonishing, the slow sounds of your wet cunt bouncing off the walls. Your expression and moans made his cock rock hard, all he wanted to do is make you cum.

You leaned in, kissing him deeply as he moved his fingers in you. "Feels so good," you whispered against his lips. You closed your eyes, lips still ghosting above his as you pant into his mouth.

He sped up his hand, fingers digging deeper into you as he thrusted them fast. The friction of his fingers set your body on fire, hands gripping his arms hard. "You're so beautiful like this, melting into my hands. Do you know how much I've thought about this moment?"

You could barely hear him though he was right in front of you, brain not being able to concentrate due to the feeling between your legs. Your soft whines and moans filled the air, quiet cries of his name falling from your lips. Jaehyun pressed you against the door even more using his other hand to lift your leg to thrust his fingers deeper in you.

"Oh my god," you whimpered, clinging to his body.

"I know, darling. I know it feels good," he cooed in your ear. "I want you to make a mess of my fingers."

You were now grinding on his hand, clit lightly brushing against his palm driving you to your orgasm with every movement of your hips. Your whines were getting louder in pitch, but you tried to hide it, being right behind the door. Anyone could walk past and hear you, and you really didn't want that to happen, but Jaehyun didn't care anymore. He didn't care about anything but you at the moment.

"Lose yourself. It's just me and you and no one else. Cum in my hand." His deep raspy voice guided you to your first orgasm in a while, squeezing around his fingers tight as you moaned into his neck.

"J-jaehyun," you whimpered. He kept pumping his fingers in you as you came, making the leg you were balancing yourself on shake. Growing impatient, Jaehyun stopped fingering you, slowing down his fingers and pulling them out of you slowly.

"I need to be inside you, Y/N. Do you want that," he questioned, resting his forehead on yours.

"Yes. Yes, I need you," you said breathlessly. You kissed him, cupping his face as he kissed you back. The two of you quickly fell into a rhythm, tongues dancing with each other as he undid his pants, fingers skillfully undoing the buttons.

"Let's get this off of you, hm?" Jaehyun lifted your slip, motioning his head for you to put your arms up. You obliged, easing them above your head allowing him to take the undergarment off of you. You kicked off your shoes right after making him smile to himself. Jaehyun couldn't keep his eyes off your body. He dropped the fabric to the floor, hands attaching to your body like a magnet. You let out soft gasps at every touch, squeeze, pinch he gave you, his hands all over you for the first time. Your skin was so soft, every scratch or scar lighting a flame in him. Even your imperfections were beautiful.

"You feel so good in my hands," he muttered, making you smile to yourself.

"I like the way your hands feel on me," you say, kissing him softly. You let out a small sigh as he moved his hands from your ass to your chest, watching as he leans down, mouth attaching to your nipple. Licking and sucking your nipples all while squeezing the flesh in his plans, maintaining eye contact with you as he plays out the sinful actions you dreamt of.

"God I can't wait any longer," he mumbled. Jaehyun kissed up your chest to your neck and jawline, finally making it to your lips, biting your bottom lip softly. "I need you to take all of me, but you have to be quiet."

He placed one hand on the bottom of your back and used the other to lift your leg. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him deeply as he took his cock, rubbing the tip between your legs slowly.

"I can be quiet," you muttered in his mouth. "Quiet as a mouse."

"That's my girl." Jaehyun lined himself with you, slowly pushing himself in your wet entrance. A soft sigh fell through his lips, the warmth of your wrapped around him. He wanted this for so long to feel close to you, to be this close to you.

"My god," you whined, fingers running through his hair. You let out soft moans every time he thrusted in you, deep and slow. Closing your eyes, you leaned your head back against the door taking in the pleasure he was going to you. But Jaehyun kept his eyes open, staring at your pretty face, listening to your pretty moans as he rocked his body into you. His grip on his leg gets tighter the deeper he thrust into you, fingertips digging into your skin.

Jaehyun wouldn't be surprised if there were people running around looking for him right about now. He's been in this room with you for almost an hour, leaving his new wife to look for you. Not even he himself would've guessed he'd be deep inside you right now, fucking you on the door where anyone could come buy and easily tell what was happening behind it. He'd always been reckless, but at this rate he didn't care. Everyone in the world was trying to keep you away from him, and he had enough. If you had to crash and burn for loving him, you were going to take him with you whether you wanted to or not.

Jaehyun's face was now in the crook of your neck, groaning softly against your skin as he kissed it softly. "You're so beautiful," he mumbled. "So perfect, I love you so much."

"I-I love you," you whimpered softly, brows furrowing feeling him thrust harder. "Oh my god, don't stop."

And he didn't. He kept going, hand leaving your back and moving to your hip. You haven't felt this good in ages, almost completely forgetting about the kind of situation you were in, until there was a knock on the door.

"Prince Jaehyun? Are you in there," a guard called out. More voices were heard from outside the door, footsteps all over the hallway.

Jaehyun halted his movement for a second, glancing at you who was making a panicked expression. "Quiet," he mouthed. Jaehyun started thrusting in you, staring at you intensely. He was lost in the sight of you, your head falling back, jaw dropping in pleasure once again. You felt so fragile at the moment, so vulnerable under him.

"You're doing so well for me, beautiful," he whispered.

"Am I," you whispered with a small smile.

Jaehyun nodded as he kissed you. You immediately moaned into his mouth, making him go faster. At this point you were far too gone, you were going to cum all over him once again. "I'm so close, my prince," you moaned breathlessly.

My prince. Those words sounded so good coming from you. So pure, innocent, loving. He would love to be yours forever. "Me too Y/N."

He kept going, ignoring the knock on the door once again. He just wanted to make you feel good. Jaehyun swallowed hard, face back in the crook of your neck feeling you flutter around him.

"Jaehyun, I'm cumming," you whimpered, trying to keep your voice as low as possible. You came on him, orgasm so hard you saw stars as you screwed your eyes shut.

But Jaehyun kept going, his orgasm getting closer and closer. He should pull out of you. He should really pull out. But self control is not his strong suit. The both of you are so wrapped up in the amazing feeling that when Jaehyun cums inside of you, you didn't even feel it. All lines become blurry, nothing makes sense, the room is just hot and stuffy filled with the smell of sex.

That's when it hits you.

"Jaehyun, what did you just do?"

#nct #nct u #nct 127 #nct fanfic #nct smut #nct x reader #nct oneshot #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct jaehyun #jaehyun #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun oneshot #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun smut #nct 127 smut #nct 127 imagines

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minervadashwood · 7 months

Text

The Truth

Bucky x F!Reader (plus size/curvy/heavyset) Tropes: Fantasy AU, friends to lovers, confessions CW: sex, burn injury Word count: 2.1K Summary:

Playboy Bucky Barnes keeps insisting that he loves you. But he is not a one-woman kind of man. Or so you think. Fantasy setting in which Bucky and you are part of a small group of adventurers. You're not a front line fighter but a savvy alchemist. Maker of potions, poultices, and traps. One day, some of your traps are compromised, and you get hurt. Bucky is not pleased.

Notes: Inspired by a dream I had and this gifset. There are a couple of Russian words in there, but they are translated in the story.

You were bent over your alchemy table when your bedroom door slammed open. In walked Bucky Barnes, dressed in only a towel tied at his waist.

You flushed, taking in his sculpted body, the dips and planes of his torso. Heat overwhelmed you, and it had nothing to do with the burns along your right arm.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” he demanded, stalking forward and taking your chin in his hand.

“The grenades were compromised!” You shouted back, twisting away from his grip. “ My grenades, Bucky! I sent you out there with something that could’ve killed Steve, Tony, Wanda. Maybe even you.”

Bucky stared you down, his chest rising and falling with his heavy breathing.

Suddenly, with inhuman speed, he lunged forward, grabbing your arm and yanking you against him. His skin was damp, like he’d just come from bathing. Steve must have told him what happened. That you broke formation to detonate your traps before they could hurt your team. Thankfully the only casualty was you. Your burns had been treated, wrapped in cloth, and were healing nicely.

“ Lisitsa ,” Bucky warned. “You can’t scare me like that.”

You rolled your eyes at the nickname. Vixen? Really? That might apply to all those women he bedded at taverns. Not you. Leave you to your potions, poultices, and fiery concoctions. Ved'ma would be more accurate. Witch .

You tried to twist out of his hold, but Bucky only gripped you tighter.

“You still don’t believe me, do you?” he growled.

“No, Buck, I don’t. You bed every woman who looks your way. There’s a different girl on your arm at every festival, every tavern crawl. How could I think that I’m any different? Shall I let you bed me and be done with it? So you can move on to your next conquest?”

You struggled in his arms, trying in vain to get away. Bucky easily controlled you, spinning you around, dragging you to your bed, and shoving you down on it.

You laid sideways, your butt at the edge, as you tried to scoot away from him. Bucky grabbed your legs, squeezing the generous, soft flesh of your thighs.

“There is no ‘next’ conquest, Lisitsa. Only you.” His towel fell away as Bucky made himself at home between your legs. With his strong hands and even stronger arms, he drew your legs apart, forcing your sarong open, revealing your lower half to him.

You froze in place, skin ablaze as his grip lessened and his hands trailed up your outer thighs, your hips, your sides. As he moved, he leaned over you, nestling his own hips to your pelvis, his taut stomach resting on your soft one, with his erection between you.

“If you won’t believe my words, then I will show you. Leave no doubt in your mind that I love you.”

“B-Bucky?” You whimpered, wetness gathering between your legs. He was a specimen of a warrior. Strong, agile, lethal. Of course you wanted him. He set your heart on fire, practically made your blood boil in your veins . But you couldn’t give in to him. If you did, he’d be gone before the morning, taking with him his sexy, enigmatic smiles, his heart-pattering winks, his insincere confessions of devotion.

Bucky grabbed your wrists and took them in one hand to hold them above your head. With his other hand, he swept away the rest of your clothing. Leaving you completely exposed.

“Stop it, Bucky,” you whispered, catching his eyes and holding his gaze. “You don’t love me. You can’t .”

A devastating smile graced his lips. “Why not, Lisitsa? How can I not love all of this? All of you?”

“B-b-because…” you faltered as he traced his nose along your cheek as, his deep inhalation audible; he was just so close. You, too, took a deep breath, steeling yourself to answer. “I’m nothing like them. The women you bed. I am more; I am too much. ”

Bucky growled, deep in his chest. The hand holding your wrists tightened, and again he took your chin in hand, gripping it tightly .

“My love, you are everything .”

You gasped as Bucky lowered his head and kissed you. Now, there was no denying your body’s reaction to him. You moaned and writhed, wishing your hands were free so you could bury them in his hair. Wriggling, you sought purchase on the bed, but Bucky’s hips and torso held you in place. The sheer strength of him captivated you, entranced you. You could only wrap your legs around his waist and welcome him closer to your core.

Long minutes passed as Bucky explored your mouth and you his. The man was voracious, but so were you, gasping and kissing, a paired clash of teeth, lips, and tongues: both of you desperate for more.

With a moan, Bucky eventually pulled away. “My Lisitsa,” he murmured, and rested his forehead on yours. Your eyes met again, and there he was, exposed, and soft…adoring. Was that the truth you saw in his eyes? Or another maneuver in his game? You’d seen him woo women, time and time again. Were you now just the next item on his ever-growing list?

“Don’t pull away, love,” he whispered, those soft, searching eyes pleaded.

“Do you mean it, Buck?”

“With every word, Lisitsa. ”

He held still, his breath arcing across your face, evidence of his desire growing more and more rigid as it was trapped between your bodies.

There would be no way to know for sure, not until morning. But you had him now . Why not take what you could, trapped in his arms?

You lifted your head slightly, seeking his mouth, and then Bucky devoured you. His tongue danced with yours. Gods how he tasted, how he felt . How he was the only thing in the world now, aside from you.

Every inhibition forgotten, you kissed him back, fiercely, and he finally let go of your wrists. Instantly your hands were in his damp, shaggy hair, clutching him close to you as months, years of repressed longing were brought to the surface.

As you kissed, Bucky’s hand skirted down your body until it cupped your sex. His fingers traced along your wet folds, forcing you to whimper into his mouth as he kissed you.

Bucky broke your lips apart, gasping in your face, his own cheeks and ears darkened, flushed.

“So soft and wet,” he told you, a single finger slipping between your folds and slowly stroking you. “Shall I stop now, love? Or do you believe me?”

“Please, Bucky,” you begged, angling your hips closer to his teasing hand.

He had the nerve, the absolute nerve to laugh at you, and back was that signature, indecipherable smirk. He kissed your nose, your chin, your jaw, and then his mouth was on your nipple, suckling and biting to send shockwaves of desire through you. You jolted beneath him, and then his teasing finger lingered at your entrance.

“Shh, doll, it’s all okay. You're mine now. Aren’t you?”

You nodded dumbly. “Yours, Buck.”

Bucky finally pushed his finger into you, and you sighed. The first finger was joined by a second, and Bucky hooked them both, moving languidly in and out until you were mewling, and whimpering, and begging, all in the same breath.

“That’s it, love,” he encouraged. “You look so beautiful right now, it hurts. I can’t wait. Not anymore.”

“Then don’t.” You tugged on his hair, insisting that he continue.

He removed his fingers, using them to coat his erection with your wetness. Then, he perched himself at your entrance, sliding in just a bit before he lowered himself on the bed, holding his weight on his elbows as his hands cupped your face.

“Believe me now?” he asked, thrusting into you.

You clenched around him, the sweet sensation of being filled by the man you’d denied for so long. It felt like he belonged there, inside of you, filling you, stretching you, loving you.

He moved quickly, and you matched your movements to his own, raising your hips and chasing after his thrusts.

Sweat soaked his body, and you grabbed every part of him you could reach as he made love to you. You gripped his arms and then caressed his chest. You sank your fingernails into his back as you neared your peak, as Bucky groaned and panted above you.

You were on the edge now, faster than you’d ever been before, all because of the man in your arms. “I’m going to come, Buck,” you rasped, voice strained because of all the pleasure coursing through you.

“Go ahead, love,” he told you, nibbling your ear. “I’ll be gentle next time. Take my time with you.”

Next time .

You came, the promise of his statement letting you rise and fall while surrounded by Bucky Barnes.

His thrusts grew sloppy, urgent, and Bucky groaned, capturing your lips with his own, as his movements slowed and he spilled himself inside you, coating your walls with his warm seed.

Your bodies remained joined, you gazing up at him, and Bucky, eyes wide, staring down at you. Then, Bucky gathered you up in his arms, lifting and arranging you easily on your bed so that you rested on top of him. Both your bodies were sweat-slicked and shivering from the aftershocks.

“Did you mean it?“ he asked you, holding your chin once again. “Are you mine?”

Apprehension, suppressed while Bucky had his way with you, rose again.

He must have seen it because Bucky softened his grip and ran his thumb on your cheek. “I’ll go Lisitsa, if you didn’t mean it. I’ll go and never speak of this again.”

You shook your head furiously, unable to bear the thought. “I meant it, Buck.”

“So do I, Love,” he mumbled, kissing your forehead, and held you close until you both fell asleep.

You woke some time later, your injured arm burning and crying out for another poultice and a clean cloth. As you attempted to sit up, you realized you were cocooned in a pair of arms, with a blanket draped over you.

“Mmmph,” Bucky grumbled sleepily. “What is it Lisitsa ?”

Your heart clenched. “You’re still here?”

“‘Course I am,” he answered, voice still groggy with sleep. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You never stay the night with them. With…the others.”

He sat up, pulling you with him, and the blankets pooled at your waists. Outside it was still dark, the stars glittering the night sky.

Bucky pulled you into his lap. “There are no others.” Threading his fingers through your hair, Bucky forced you to look at him. “There is only you. I promise.”

In the darkness, you could not see his eyes or his smile. You only had his words and the feel of his touch to guide you.

“My bandage needs changing,” you murmured, trying to slip off his lap to get your feet on the floor.

“What here,” he ordered, setting you on the mattress as he got off the bed.

“Buck, what are you--”

You heard the lighting of a match, then the soft glow of a candle filled your room. Bucky held it, and the tiny flame bounced off his body, casting shadows over his muscled form. He’d come into this room wearing only a towel, and he was barefoot and naked, making his way to your shelves of concoctions.

“Which bottle, Lisitsa ?”

“The green one, middle shelf.”

Bucky grabbed your healing poultice and a clean, rolled cloth, too, before returning to you. Unwrapping the cloth on your arm, Bucky tsk’d and sighed.

“No going where I can’t protect you. My heart can’t take it,” he said, focused on your injury. After setting the used cloth aside, Bucky scooped some of the poultice out of the jar and touched it to your arm.

You winced, not used to someone else taking care of you.

“Shush, love,” Bucky soothed. “It’ll feel better in a moment.”

Love . There it was again. He’d had what he wanted and still, he was here, tending to you, comforting you, loving you.

“There’s my good girl,” he encouraged, gently patting the poultice on your burns. He finished and put the lid back on the jar. You’d never seen him do such a thing. Not for Wanda, certainly not for Tony, not even for Steve. But he was doing it for you.

As he reached for the clean cloth bandage, you grabbed his elbow with your left hand and said, “I believe you, Buck.”

He gazed at you in the candlelight, it danced across his features the face of the man you’d loved for so long. And now you were finally ready to admit it.

“About time, Lisitsa . Now let me finish this so I can get back into bed with you.”

You let out a long-held breath as Bucky finished wrapping your injured arm. Bucky snuffed out the candle and found you in the darkness, crawling back into bed with and pulling you back into his arms.

Outside, the sky turned gray with the rising sun. It was morning.

#mdop #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes x curvy reader #plus size reader #curvy reader #bucky barnes #mcu #mcu fanfic #playboy bucky barnes

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chibipeachu · 7 months

Text

Pretty Songbird || Aleksander M.

A/N: I watched snakes and songbirds and had this ideas stuck in my head ever since i saw it last week, idk if it's gonna be a series, if you have any ideas pls tell me!!

WC: 1311 Warning: Fem!Reader, the moon summoner trope, not proof read so i take credit for mispelling or mistakes..

Alina sighed as herself and Mal walked into a busy club to get away from their pursuers.

“It should be too crowded to notice us in this crowd, just keep the hood on.” Mal whispered to Alina as they moved closer to the stage where others stood, waiting for the performer.

“Want something?”

Alina turned and nodded as Mal gave a quick nod before walking to the bartender.

As alina went to stand near a corner of the crowded club she bumped into another young girl. “Aww, sorry..” “Ah, i’m sorry.” They both apologized to one another.

“It’s alright, just a throbbing but it’ll go away with a drink.” The girl brushed it off and gave alina a smile.

“You look familiar..” Alina felt her heart drop, as the expression the girl made was of realization. “You’re her aren’t you?” Alina tensed up and lifted her hand in case she need to summon to stop the girl from doing something.

“It’s alright, your safe here, i just recommend the further booth over there if you don’t want to draw attention..” Alina followed the girls direction and saw an empty booth and nodded at her. “Thank you..?” She waited for a name.

“Y/n, i’m a performer here tonight.” She smiled and pointed towards the stage were drunks and many excited people stood waiting.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

People whispered to one another as they noticed the brooding, darkling who was accompanied with other grisha, they all had looks of distaste on their faces as they scanned the club.

Alesksander’s attention jumped as two women in front of him talked about the performer.

“Is it true she can summon?”

“Rumors say she can but was sick during her testing and got dismissed.”

Before any of them could provide aleksander with information, a young woman, dressed in a loose blouse and what looked like the first army pants.

“Based on all the chatter I could hear from back there, I assume it’s about myself?” You grinned as you scanned the crowd.

A mixed of positive responses came from the busy club.

Aleksander noticed how each of his grisha searched the crowd.

“Aww stop it, i’m blushing!” You playfully waved to the crowd before turning to the band who waited for your sign to play.

As the band started up, you danced around the stage a bit.

“So if you don’t know, i wrote this many, many, many years ago when i was stuck as a showstopper for tow men on each side of the fold, one more then the other..” You referenced to your pants before raising an eyebrow.

Aleksander wasn’t surprised, zlatan of course wouldn’t share a summoner with anyone, especially the king and aleksander.

“Can’t take my charm,

Can’t take my humor,

Can’t take my wealth, cause it’s just a rumor.

Nothing you can take was ever with keeping.

No nothing you can take was every worthing keeping.”

As alina listened to your singing she glanced around the room and froze as she spotted aleksander and the other grisha in the club.

Alina subtly nudged mal who popped up and ushered alina through the crowd to leave quickly.

As you took a breath, you felt yourself stop for a moment, as you took note of the dark eyes of the darkling.

“Thinking you’re so fine,

Thinking you could have mine.

Thinking in control, thinking you can change me, maybe rearrange me.

Think again if that’s your goal.”

You stomped your boots at each sentence, making the crowd cheer.

Through the small break of your singing, you held strong eye contact with the darkling, from what zlatan had told you, he was saving you from the general who had “tossed your abilities aside” those were the only words you believed from the first general, you had tried to get test when you were a teen but got reject when you said you could summon.

“Can’t take my sass,

Can’t take my talking.

You can kiss my ass,

Then keep on walking!

Nothing you can take was ever worth keeping,

Oh, nothing you can take was ever worth keeping.” You stared him down while continuing to sing.

Zoya scoffed as she followed your and aleksander’s gaze to one another.

Aleksander looked away from you to look at the sour expression on her face.

“She’s insulting you to your face..”

“I know..” He responded, his eyes moving back onto you which your eyes were closed as you finished the song.

“Nothing you can take from is worth dirt,

Take it cause i’d give it free, it won’t hurt.

Nothing you can take was ever worth keeping..”

As you finished the crowd cheered making you grin and gave a bow before walking to your bandmate and motioned for behind the stage before exiting, they band continued to play as you left.

Aleksander hadn’t noticed zoya rambling on how disrespectful you were, he piped up as you left the stage. “I’ll be back.” He told zoya before walking outside the club.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

You quietly exited from the building and leaned against the building.

You were now screwed, after many blissful years away from zlatan and kirigan it had to come crashing down.

Being upset you got up and kicked the tins in the back alley of the club.

“That was quite the show..” You jumped at the general’s voice.

“General kirigan..” You greeted, walking to pick up the fallen over tins.

“You worked under zlatan?” He questioned, making you chuckle.

“What made it obvious? My clothes or the song?” You asked, putting the lid back on before turning to his figure.

“He rarely sent letters to the palace grounds to let us know of anything.”

You scoffed, knowing where he was trying to lead the conversation.

“Bullshit, don’t play like you never knew about me, I stood in front of grisha testers and was denied a retest because of my ability, each test is shown in front of you, in your lap to see the newest grisha!” You walked closer to him as you went on.

“Nice try to play that card but the only words I ever believed from zlatan was that you tossed me aside.” You brushed past the darkling and went to enter the club again but was stopped by him grabbing your wrist in a tight grasp and pulling you back to face him.

“You could train in the little palace with others, be with your own kind.” He tried to convince you.

“You missed that train where I wanted to fit in with others badly, I will not be trained to replace your little sun summoner.” You ripped your wrist form his grasp and walked back into the club.

Aleksander stood by himself in the alley, shocked you had decline his offer.

After he collected himself he walked into the club to collect his grisha.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Weeks had passed since the incident at the club.

Aleksander hadn’t been expecting a meeting with the king, he was confused at the sudden arrangement.

“Tsar.” Aleksander greeted as he entered his war room.

“General.” King Pyotr greeted, letting aleksander step in further before continuing.

“Is there a reason you called upon me?” Aleksander questioned.

“When you were visiting ryevost, did you happened to see this girl?” The king unfolded a drawing of the singer he had a conversation with weeks ago.

“She’s rumored to be a moon summoner, if anything, everyone’s after her. And i believe she’ll do good here in the little palace under your control.” He continued, aleksander studied the poster.

“I’ll send grisha to find her…” The king smiled and nodded in aleksander’s direction before getting up and leaving.

Once gone, aleksander picked up the paper to admire your beauty.

“I’ll find you, songbird..” He muttered as he read over the paper.

Y/N Y/L/N - GRISHA - WANTED BY KING PYOTR AND GENERAL KIRIGAN.

#aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova x you #the darkling x reader #the darkling x you #darkling x reader #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan x you #aleksander morozova fluff #shadow and bone x reader

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starryschoolgirl · 8 months

Text

An Honest Woman Chapter 1

Summary -> Spending your youth as the neglected wife of a rich merchant wasn't what you had dreamed about as a girl. Had it not been for Elvis, the man who maintains the stable house, you could very well have died an early death from loneliness. You were lucky to have a friend as you sat in the big manor like one of the many pretty vases your much older husband owned, but the lines of fond friendship and something else soon begin to intermingle.

Warnings will vary for each chapter, please always read them.

Warnings -> Set in the late 1800s, classic trope of the inexperienced woman with an experienced man, a woman sold to a man for hefty bride-dowry toward her family, unlikely love, swearing, silent pining, neglectful husband, being a child bride in past, age difference, (lots of) eventual smut

WC -> 4.7k

A/N: This is the introduction chapter, as such it will kind of just be showing the dynamics set in the story, some of the rather spicy stuff will occur in the upcoming chapters, so look forward to those!

"Madam?"

You stared up from your palms with a look of alertness, having forgotten you were amidst others in a conversation. The boys that surrounded you, or rather, the two boys and one man who surrounded you stared at you incredulously, the man stepping forward and kneeling down in front of you as you sat on a dusty old crate that he had turned for you to sit down on.

He pointed at your head and asked with a crooked smile,

"What's goin' on in there Honey?"

You flushed with embarrassment at your rudeness and turned away from the man's gaze, opting to stare at the discarded half-eaten apple in the corner of the stable house, probably the work of one of the boys.

"Nothing Elvis, I was just-"

He laughed softly and shook his head,

"Well that ain't good now is it?"

You stared back at him for a moment and then realized your words, before you could correct yourself he spoke again,

"And what did I tell ya 'bout callin' me that? Gonna get me in trouble with that husband of yours"

You smiled softly and remarked,

"The only thing that will get you into trouble is you calling me 'Honey', now you know he wouldn't like that, and I've told you to stop"

He shook his head and looked to the side, mumbling something under his breath before hovering his dust-covered hand above yours, not touching it, no, never that... But he hovered as closely as possible as he mumbled,

"Now don't you worry about little ole me, Honey."

You tilted your head as you stared down at the man kneeling before you, with a smile tugging at your lips you murmured,

"Who said I was?"

The two boys who worked the stables alongside their mentor, Elvis, began boredly kicking up some dust behind the man as the conversation had died down. One of the boys, Oliver accidentally made his kick too deep as it swung up and hit Elvis in the ass, making his body jump up slightly.

You and the boys began laughing as Elvis stood up and faced Oliver with a stone face. Suddenly it was just you and the other boy, Charles, laughing as Elvis chased Oliver around the stable. Eventually he'd caught up with the boy and lifted him by the back of his shirt.

"Kickin' me like I'm some steed, why I oughta..."

His teeth grit while Oliver yelped for help from you or Charles, being granted none because well, Oliver had it coming.

Elvis walked over to the wooden gates of one of the many horse stalls and hung the boy onto the corner of it by the back of his shirt. The boy yelped and hollered as Elvis stood next to him,

"Those two ain't gonna help ya till ya 'pologize, now whaddaya got to say?"

You stood up from the crate and shook your head with a smile as you made your way over, well aware that the head-strong 13-year-old Oliver wasn't going to apologize. As you reached up to attempt to grab him, Elvis eventually gave in and batted your small hands away,

"Now, now, you couldn't lift a canary out it's cage, I'll get 'im"

You smiled as the boy was lifted down, Oliver immediately ran to your arms, hugging you as you huffed out happily, "Oh poor baby"

As Elvis glared at the smug boy the sound of a creaky gate could be heard from afar. Elvis turned his head to the door leading out to the field and pointed to the boys,

"Oliver, Charles, go check on that, don't need another great escape of the horses"

The boys quickly ran out the door, Charles had started running before yelling back to Oliver, "Bet I'll beat ya to it" to which the younger boy whined as he chased him, "Hey no fair! No fair!!"

You laughed softly and shook your head, turning it to see Elvis' unimpressed stare. You shrugged and asked, "What?" as you made your way back over to your makeshift seat. He followed and lectured,

"Ya know you're too easy on 'em"

As you picked up the jacket that he had laid down for you to sit on so that your dress wouldn't get dust on it, you said pointedly,

"I'm not"

"Yeah ya are"

You turned to him with his now folded jacket in your arms and stared up at him as you replied,

"Am not"

He took a step forward, now staring down at you from almost straight above as he remarked,

"Are too"

As you stared directly up at him, and he down at you, the laughter of the boys outside and the sounds of nature had dulled into sweet background noise as you took in a familiar sound. Elvis' puffed style of breathing through his nose, like sweeps of waves in and out, heavy and heaving. You could almost feel the air leaving him dance along your nose and cheeks as the two of you stood so close.

With a gentle force, you pushed his folded jacket into his stomach and whispered,

"Am not"

As soon as the words left your lips you dropped the fabric into his grasp and quickly ran out the stables as fast as your heeled feet would let you. You could hear his playful huff for possibly one or two seconds, giving you time to just barely make your way out of the oak stable house until finally his vengeful arms caught you.

You squealed at a large pair of hands that wrapped around your waist just as your feet hit the grass.

Suddenly you were like a fairy, your feet lifted from the ground as you continued on your path, Elvis running forward a few feet more before spinning you in a circle while in his grasp.

You couldn't help the laugh that left your lips, and below it all you could hear, or rather feel Elvis laugh into the fabric of your dress that covered your stomach, you deemed the fabric too thin as you felt his huffs of laughter somehow spill through, a warm feeling covering the skin of your stomach as an equally warm feeling filled it.

It was wrong. Granted feeling this way with any man other than your husband was wrong, but with Elvis, it was on a different level. Because it felt so right. Much more right than it ever felt with your husband.

As you stared down at him, his arms still wrapped around you holding you up to a height taller than him, his head was angled in a way that made his chin poke into your stomach with how closely he held you. His eyes just barely poked out to look at you from below your breasts.

Any other man would take a glimpse, a look. But not Elvis, and that fled you with a feeling worse than one you would've felt if he were like any other man. You weren't a woman in his eyes, you were simply a girl, neglected by her aging husband, wasting her days playing out in the field with the two boys or braiding the hair of the maid's daughters.

What a silly girl you must be to think a man like him would want you. When even your own husband wouldn't go near you.

He let out a breath as he set you back to the ground, you were quick to smooth out the pillowy skirt of your dress. As you turned to the loud joyous laughs of the two young boys you couldn’t help your smile as you watched them chase one of the horses that managed to escape after the latch on the field's gate had popped open.

You’d already been scolded twice by Alexander, your husband, for letting some of his best racing horses get loose.

You bit the back of your knuckle, noting to yourself that you’d need to approach the butler about that troublesome latch. As if he read your mind, he soothed without even sparing your worried gaze a glance, “I’ll get that fixed, a little ashamed I let it sit around ‘til now…”

You looked over to him and replied with earnest,

“Oh but you shouldn’t feel that way. I’m,”

You cleared your throat and held your head much higher as if that would help you feel more confident in your statement,

“I’m the lady of the manor, it is my duty to tend to that. I’ll approach the butler promptly”

Now he looked down at you with a smirk tugging at half of his mouth and a quirked eyebrow, he questioned with amusement,

“Aren’tcha scared of the butler?”

Whatever false confidence you attempted to instill in yourself, was now out the window as you visibly shrank in on yourself and mumbled a quiet, “yeah…”

He only laughed softly and put a hand on your back, assuring,

“I’ll fix it Honey, don’t worry”

You smiled up at him, and gave a sincere, “Thank you Elvis”

“Madam! Madam!”

The both of you turned your heads to Charles who was running quicker than a bolt of lightning, of course followed by the slower, smaller bolt of lighting named Oliver. As soon as Charles had gotten close he slowed to a stop, bending over to catch his breath with his hands on his hips, you would’ve laughed if he hadn’t said,

“The Mister is home, saw his carriage”

Your smile stalled and fell to a much smaller one. You sighed softly and walked forward petting Charles’ hair back before mumbling a quiet ‘thank you’. With that small gesture and one last bidding glance to your little group that made this manor feel like home, you departed, making the long trek back to the manor to greet your husband.

As Elvis watched you go, his hand that had previously rested on your back fell to his side, the warmth in it that came from your body heat which bled through the fabric of your dress now engulfed into a tight fist. Knuckles white and all as he looked down at the grass below him.

He only allowed himself one moment of silence before he tipped the rim of his hat and ordered,

“C’mon boys, got some racks to clean, then I’ll take y’all out for supper in town”

~~~~~

“Oh dear Madam! Where have you been? Goodness is this dust?! Have you been fooling around in the dirt once more?!”

You grimaced as Mary the head maid fussed over your appearance and began to attempt to beat the dust out of your dress’ skirt, in the way a school professor would beat the chalk out of a rag at the end of his lesson. It didn’t hurt much as she attempted to whack it out of your skirt, what filled you was not pain but rather shame. You were still treated as if you were a child, but that could be because you proved to act like one.

“Oh dear, this will have to do”

She then ushered you toward the manor’s great hall, connecting 3 wings of the manor to the main entrance, and as if it were a perfectly staged play, as soon as your feet landed in front of the door where the wife should always be when her husband comes home, your husband had entered the door on cue.

You bent your head slightly and cupped your hands in front of you as his familiar voice filled your ears. You felt a tinge of hope, today was a special day after all.

It was your anniversary. The big anniversary! Five long years, you hoped that this would be the year. You’d finally be able to show your worth as a woman, to give your husband the greatest gift of all, and show him that buying- no, that marrying you wasn’t a mistake.

He married you. He didn’t buy you. If he did then all those nights you spent fretting over him, telling your dear friends at boarding school about him, and writing lists and lists of letters to send to him just to remain unanswered, it would all have been a waste.

Your love would have been a waste.

No, stop thinking like that, it was different. And today all your hopes and dreams of the perfect life with your husband would come to fruition. They had to.

He first greeted the butler, tossing the man his coat and asking the man to bring some cigars to his office. He then turned to Mary and asked her if she could fix him a bath. And finally there was you.

As he placed a hand on your shoulder you lifted your head, hoping to find his stare, instead you only saw him pass by, the hand on your shoulder only remained long enough for him to say, “I trust you’ve stayed out of trouble”, and walk right on through the house.

Leaving you alone in the entrance.

You swallowed thickly and suddenly you were taken back to your first time greeting him, having only reached the marriable age of 16 just a few days prior before you were rushed into a marriage with him, all because your parents had been offered a hefty sum of money as a Bridal Token.

You remember that day, you’d been dressed in your best, and as soon as he got in the door, he passed you by. The maids at the time who stood in the hall gave hushed murmurs to each other consisting of, “Seems she isn’t quite suitable for a man’s taste yet.”, and, “She still has some filling out to do”, and of course the occasional, “Poor, pitiful thing…”

It only made matters worse that after only a month of your time here, you’d practically been fired from your job as lady of the house. You mixed up all the documentation of the servants and their time they’d spent working here, your first social event hosted as the lady of the house went down in flames, literally.

You thought candlelight would add a tender ambience to your teaparty, and beforehand you’d made handkerchiefs for all the ladies who would be in attendance. So as you were handing them out you accidentally hovered the fabric of one just a little too close to the candle and it caught flames, you dropped it to the table, but then the tablecloth caught flames and it just continued to spread and spread.

Thankfully your life saver, and the man who in the future would be one of your only friends, had come to your rescue. He quickly put the fire out and offered you along with the other aristocratic ladies his greetings.

That would be the last time you’d see him for the next two years however, as your husband deemed it a wise choice to ship you off to an overseas boarding school. Leaving all of the town to gossip about what a horrid wife you must’ve made. Some rumors even spread that he’d had you killed on the way to the docks.

Of course that wasn’t quite the case. As you now stood to inform everyone who deemed you a dead woman that while you were away you had accidentally caused a few more fires. But those are stories for another time.

“Oh Dear,”

You lifted your head at the soft voice you recognized, it was Josephine, a maid who you’d become close friends with. She quickly marched over and pulled you into her arms, and in that gesture you felt secure enough to fall apart in her arms, your tears streaming down your cheeks as you rested your chin on her shoulder.

“Oh now, it’s alright… What does he matter anyway?”

You pulled back and stared at her wide-eyed putting firm hands on her shoulders as you warned frantically,

“J-Josie, if somebody hears you say that they would throw you out!”

Josephine continued on firmly,

“So what if they do? At least I’ll have remained true to my character, much unlike the rest of these living corpses”

She said the last part with a bit more volume as if to get her message across to the said corpses, but no one was in the room to listen. You shook your head as more tears tracked down your cheek, smiling fondly before tucking your head into her neck for comfort, mumbling a cherishing, “Oh Josie…”

After she held you for a few moments, she mumbled encouragingly,

“He’s bound to call you to his bedroom tonight to go over what’s happened in the manor within the last fortnite he’s been gone… Why don’t we gussy you up, and show him what a woman you are..?”

You held your breath as if it were hope you were desperately clinging onto. Then you asked, with a tinge of excitement,

“You think so?”

She pulled back to look you in the eye,

“I know so!! Goodness, we’ll need lots of time, I’ve gotta get you in the bath now Honey!!”

She clasped your hand in hers as she led you up the stairs, the two of you giggling girlishly with each click of your heels.

~~~~~

After hours of scraping off any sort of scent on your body, you’d been plunged into a bath filled with rose petals and goat’s milk, soaking for only a rest of 10 minutes before being pulled out. Josie roughly rubbed in all sorts of smelling oils that your husband had traded from a merchant from the East.

Your hair was let down to grace your figure as you slipped into a long silk nightgown, with sheer lace accents in all the special places, of course to maintain your dignity you wore a long silk robe over it all as you walked through the hallways.

As the doors opened you met eyes with your husband, he sat on the bed in his own robe, reading glasses on and a few documents in hand. He noticed you linger shyly at the door, so with a beckoning hand he offered,

“Come in”

You nodded and quietly clicked the door shut behind you, pulling your robe close to you as to not reveal the surprise, only when you sat at the edge of his bed staring up at him, did you let the shoulders of the robe fall, revealing the thin straps of your nightgown that revealed much of your collarbones.

You stuttered his name,

“A-Alex”

He stared down at his documents as he asked a disinterested, “Yes?”

You bit your lower lip nervously before asking shakily,

“Do you know what tonight is?”

He hummed for a moment and offered plainly,

“It’s the 22nd my Dear”

You looked down at your fidgety hands, did he not remember? You scooted closer to him, sitting on the edge of his bed by his thighs now. He only bothered to notice you as you placed a hand on his thigh. You mumbled quietly,

“It’s our anniversary Alex…”

He stared at you as if you were a foreign sight, then his lips pursed before he said uncaringly,

“Oh, why I suppose it is…”

While you held his gaze you shrugged the robe off, leaving you only in your risqué nightgown. He looked back down at his documents and continued,

“Well, happy anniversary then Darling, what did you get- I mean, did you like what you got?”

You felt tears well up in your eyes, you knew he never personally got you anything, it was always up to his aides to buy you things for your anniversary, but it still hurt being faced with that ugly truth so directly. You sniffled softly.

“Mhm, t-the jewels were absolutely stunning Alex, I- I really loved them…”

He smiled softly up at you, placing a gentle hand on your cheek as he hummed,

“I’m glad”

He pressed a gentle peck to your cheek, but before he could pull back you put an eager hand at the back of his head, fingers buried into his brown hair with strings of gray beginning to form within it.

You maneuvered your lips onto his and leaned forward with him as his head fell back on the pillow. Your hand that rested on his thigh lifted to a new resting point which was his chest.

For a moment you felt a sensation entirely new, his mouth had opened just slightly just enough for him to let out a gasp of surprise, but as soon as that was over his tongue had dipped between your lips.

He only allowed himself that for a moment before pulling completely away and keeping a tamed hand on your chest to keep you back.

“Darling this-”

You said his name with dire need,

“Alex..!”

“No!”

Your movements came to a halt as he raised his voice, your body had stiffened. You hated when he yelled. He stared at you and sighed as he noticed the change in your composure. Alexander brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

You stood up and backed away, keeping your eyes trained on him for a reaction, he only waved you away, “Just..! Leave, Darling, please leave… Now.”

You sniffled one final time and ran out the room, as you slammed the doors open in your leaving you saw your dear friend Josephine who must’ve been listening at the door holding her nose. You were too flustered, sad, and embarrassed to regard her as you went running down through the halls of the manor and to your room, slamming the door shut behind you.

The night was long as you’d cried your heart out onto your pillow, Josephine was at your side as a faithful friend (and you made sure to apologize to her numerous times for hitting her nose with the door). And when morning finally did come, Josephine informed you that Alexander would be out on business for the next few days, as apparently something went wrong with a transaction he’d made when he was in the South.

But the days would continue on, as they had in the time he was gone. And for a while you could pretend that you didn’t have a husband, that you were just a rich, happy woman, entertaining her friends which consisted of a maid, a stable-man, and two stable-boys.

One of which had a weird way of showing his worry the next day:

“Jesus you look like one of ‘em big-eyed bugs-”

Before Charles could continue his critique on your swollen eyes, Elvis had hit him in the back of the head and muttered, “Don’t take his name in vain you fool… And quit commentin’ on a lady’s appearance. Got a lot to say for someone missin’ a whole tooth up front there”

You smiled at Elvis which he returned back to you before continuing to carry a few wood planks over to the other side of the stable, some of the wood had begun to rot from the rainy season, which meant a tune up was needed.

You rubbed your eyes gently, murmuring more to yourself than anybody, “Do they look that bad?”

Sure you spent a large portion of the night crying, mainly from your own embarrassment rather than feeling sad that you didn’t lose your virginity, though that was a negative too.

You sighed softly as all the memories of the night before had replayed in your mind.

“Alright, are ya ready?”

You looked up at the familiar voice that seemed pointed toward you, and there stood Elvis, a flowy white blouse tucked completely back into his black trousers, it looked like he made some sort of attempt to dust off the dirt that had once been on it. In his hand he held a lead tied to the horse's bit ring.

You stared at him plainly and tilted your head in confusion, he scoffed and gently tapped the crate you sat on with his foot, “You’ve been mopin’ around all day. Really bringin’ the morale down for us workers ya know? So I’m doin’ us all a favor, I’m takin’ ya to town.”

Your eyes lit up, you hadn’t been to town in almost a year, the last time you went was to go shopping for the holidays. It’s not that you weren’t allowed to go, it’s only you never had someone to go with. Josephine worked long hours and when she wasn’t working she needed to tend to her mother, ah right you needed to send her mother something…

“...pie…”

The boys looked at you like you were crazy, and it was clear they’d been spending too much time with Elvis as he had the exact same, eyebrow-quirking expression slapped on his face as well.

You asked wide-eyed,

“Can we get pie while we’re in town? Josie’s mother has been under the weather and I’ve been wanting to send her something”

Elvis smiled fondly at you and walked around the horse, which was actually his personal horse, Rising Sun, to tie the lead around the other bit ring.

“Sure Honey, we’ll go get pie, in fact let’s get three pies, one for Ms. Josephine’s mother, one for you, and one for me”

Charles chirped in pointedly,

“Ahem”

Elvis looked down at the rascal with a glare, you of course gave in and gently ruffled the boy’s hair, cooing softly,

“And of course we won’t forget you two, what kind of pie would the two of you like?”

Oliver piped up with a mischievous smile,

“One for each right?”

Elvis sent the kid a look and mumbled,

“Don��t push it kid, we’re getting the two of ya whatever pie is on sale”

Charles elbowed Oliver and Oliver whined at the action, you laughed softly with a shake of your head as you reached to stroke Rising Sun’s mane. Elvis hollered to the boys as he finished settling the saddle,

“Now y’all keep an eye on the stables or there will be hell to pay and no pies”

You looked at Elvis with a fond smile, “You’re too hard on them”

“Nah, you’re just too easy”

With that he knelt down by the horse, resting his palms flat open on his knee for you to step on. You stared with an unsure gaze. “I’m wearing heels Elvis…”

He processed that for a moment, unsure of the difference it would make.

“And I’m wearin’ trousers? What difference does it make now?”

You sighed softly and reasoned,

“I don’t want to hurt your hand”

Elvis gruffed out, “What’s hurting right now is my other knee cause there’s a damn rock digging further into it as you dilly-dally. I’m not a piece a glass Doll, now c’mon”

You still looked hesitant.

“Y’all sure are takin’ a while!!”

The both of you turned your heads to mischievous Oliver, Elvis hollered his way, “Now you hush up!”

He stood up abruptly and said, “You asked for it princess”, before picking you up, arms wrapped around where your thighs would be under your dress, you were practically slung over his shoulder, like he were some ogre kidnapping a princess.

You abruptly felt a change in angle and the feel of the saddle below you, Elvis crawled out from the layers of your dress and kept a steady hand on your waist as you tried to settle in. It’s been a while since you rode a horse, yes, but something seems different this time… Oh yes, now you remembered.

“Elvis, where’s the side saddle?”

The side saddle, it made it easy and was the couth way for women in dresses to ride a horse. Though now it seems the fashion of heavily layered dresses was going out the window, it was still helpful.

Elvis shook his head and informed, “Those things ain’t safe, they’re a thing of the past now Honey”

“W-Well how am I supposed to ride this?”

With a huff Elvis had mounted the horse, and you could feel his entire front against your backside. You tried to remind yourself it’s just casual. It’s just horse-back riding into town with a friend.

“It’s simple,”

As he settled in behind you, the two of you felt impossibly close. His mouth just happened to be inches away from your ear as he mumbled,

“All ya gotta do,”

One of Elvis’ arms wrapped around your waist to rest at your thigh, and the other barely had to reach over to rest at your other thigh, both of them connected as your legs dangled off the left side of Rising Sun.

You could feel the stubble of his cheek grace your own cheek as he peeked around to see his hands and the way you were positioned,

“Is spread ya legs”

This is more of a passion project that came to me, and I'm having so much fun with it so far! Plus, it's my first series so I'm very excited in general!!

248 notes · View notes

stargirlrchive · 1 year

Text

wasteland, baby: chapter one ✩ tsu’tey

masterlist ୨୧ wasteland, baby masterlist

cw: olo’eyktan!tsu’tey x afab!reader, no use of y/n, arranged marriage/marriage of convienience (lets pretend to be shocked, this trope has me in a chokehold), mentions of war, death, night terror/nightmares, anxiety, bullet wounds, guns, battle talk etc.+ wc: 2,370

comments: idk why but i’m so nervous to post lmaooo but new series 😝 hope you all like it ! index is attached to the masterlist if u need it <3

next ✩

Tsu’tey felt the blood rush to his ears as he made quick steps to the Tsahik’s tent, the sun was only just now rising, far too early to be called upon if it was anything good. With clumsy fingers he readjusted his loincloth though there was nothing to fix, only a nervous habit as he made haste.

He faltered for a few seconds when he reached Mo’at’s tent, nerves bubbling in his stomach as he tried to prepare for whatever business the Tsahik had with him. It was not uncommon for Tsu’tey to speak with Mo’at over issues of the clan, the Olo’eyktan and Tsahik often did so. But the rushed morning call that disturbed his slumber, and the low murmuring voice’s of Mo’at and Neytiri behind the tent had his stomach twisting with something akin to fear.

His fingers clenched into a tight fist before he released the tension, pushing apart the flap of the tent before dipping into the privacy of the Tsahik’s quarters.

His tail tensed as Mo’at and Neytiri stilled their conversation, looking at Tsu’tey with trepidation as if they had been caught doing something they shouldn’t.

There was a beat of silence before Tsu’tey regained his senses, “Oel Ngati Kamie.”

Neytiri sent him a warm smile before greeting him, Mo’at however, she had her usual look of aloofness, as if not wanting to give anything away. Tsu’tey was sure that was a skill she had to master during her years as Tsahik. Many people came to her with their questions and burdens, she had to learn to school her expressions.

“Sit, ‘itan.”

He nodded, sitting down across from Mo’at, his eyes jumping between the two women as he refrained from asking what was wrong. What was so important that they needed to speak with him so early? It all felt so secretive and he felt uneasy.

“Neytiri is with child.”

Tsu’tey’s head snapped towards the other warrior in the room, his ears flicking in curiosity before a smile cracked its way onto his face. “Aylrrtok ngaru, Neytiri! I am sure you and Jake Sully will be blessed with a strong child.”

Neytiri’s face lit up, she cared for Tsu’tey deeply and his excitement for her meant more than he knew, “Thank you, Tsu’tey.”

Neytiri’s gaze shifted towards Mo’at, and Tsu’tey followed her gaze, a small frown making its way onto his face at the small flash of guilt that flashed through the older woman's gaze. He felt nauseous at the lapse of control from the Tsahik, but her eyes glazed over to one of calmness before she turned to look at Tsu’tey.

“I have been thinking that it is time you find a mate, Tsu’tey.”

His mouth went dry, his forehead creasing in confusion as his heart thrummed harder. Mo’at took the Olo’eyktan’s silence as liberty to keep speaking. “The clan needs to know that it is time to move forward. The people need to know we are prospering after a time of sorrow.”

Neytiri was watching Tsu’tey closely but he gave nothing away, only nodding softly as he listened to Mo’at, “We called upon you this early for discretion. If people begin to find out you are looking for a mate, they will swarm on you like viperwolves stalking their prey.”

Tsu’tey’s tail swished nervously at the thought, trying to wrap his mind around the idea of sharing his life with someone.

Neytiri cleared her throat, “But Tsahik and I were thinking it would be beneficial to the people if you mate with someone from a different clan.”

Tsu’tey blinked at her for a few seconds before he cleared his throat, “Someone who is not Omatikaya? That is unheard of.”

If Tsu’tey was nervous about mating with a woman from the clan, this made his heart feel like it was going to rip out of his chest now. “The Kekunan clan showed great bravery during the war. They were the first clan to arrive when Jake called upon them.”

It was clear to Tsu’tey that both women had made up their mind, they encouraged the idea and it was only confirmed when Mo’at reached out to pat Tsu’tey’s arm to try and comfort him. “The Olo’eyktan and Tsahik have a daughter, she is their third born and has been Tsakarem for many years. From what I have heard she is quite gifted at it too, she is also a warrior, she would be a great Tsahik for the Omatikaya ”

Neytiri nodded in agreement with her mother, “She fought alongside us during the war, she protected me and she's shown great strength. The union will also give us protection if we were ever to need it again.”

Tsu’tey was used to his people looking to him for guidance, but Mo’at and Neytiri looking at him with hope struck a chord he couldn't place. These were two of the women he most looked up to, silently begging him to agree with their eyes.

He sighed quietly, nodding gently before his ears pinned to his head, “If she agrees, I will do it.”

Mo’at let out a quiet breath, it was as if she was holding it in while she waited for his answer. Neytiri did not contain her excitement, her tail thrashing harshly behind her, “Mother and I will arrange everything, we will fly out and pitch our case.”

Tsu’tey only nodded, unable to find his words as his mind raced wildly. It was not until Neytiri placed her hand on his arm that he was pulled from his turmoil, “She is very kind, you will grow to love her.”

Tsu’tey’s gaze flicked to where Mo’at was sitting, but it was now empty. He felt confident enough to speak his feelings to his closest friend, “I don’t know if I can Neytiri.”

She frowned, her mouth opening to speak but Tsu’tey suddenly felt overwhelmed. His chest tightening as he stood up quickly, not even bidding her goodbye before he walked out.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

Your heart was pounding roughly in your chest as visions continued to appear in your mind, it felt like you were being swallowed and spit out during different memories that deeply scarred you. Fading away like mist before you were able to do anything about it. Your body was not your own, going through the motions that seared your brain with fear.

You were gliding forward while your Ikran dove head first towards the forest grounds, and your mind was completely blank but you knew what was happening. Before your eyes adjusted to your eldest brother falling freely as bullets tainted his body, leaving wounds in their wake, you felt fear consume you. It consumed you each night as you were forced to relive these nightmares each time your eyes closed and it never got easier. Your vision cleared and you were met with his Ikran screeching in pain before their Tsaheylu broke and your brother tumbled down.

You were so close, his body within a few inches of Evu’s claws to break his impact on the floor, just as you were going to catch him you were being ripped away. Appearing in a memory from the same horrible day, just hours later.

A scream threatened to rip from your throat but got stuck before Neytiri’s piercing cry hit your ears.Your head was hot and heavy, a thick liquid pouring from your skull as you stumbled towards her voice. She was cradling someone, along with the Toruk Makto but their face was shielded from your view. Your vision was spotty before your body hit the floor.

Your eyes flutter open as you take a deep breath of air, gasping as your ears ring so loudly it feels painful. Your heart was racing so fast it felt as though it was going to be ripped from your chest.

It takes minutes for you to register that you are in the safety of your cot, away from the war. Your eyes well with hot tears before they stain your face and down to your ears. You cursed yourself quietly as you wept, you were the Tsakarem, you were a warrior, you were not meant to be weak. These terrors were not meant to plague you still, but a broken sob fell from your mouth as you recalled all the lost members of the Kekunan, your people ripped away from their family by metal machines and greedy humans, your eldest brother included.

It had been months, but the horrors of war plagued your mind, lurking behind every wall and shadow, threatening to consume you whole. The sun barely rising peaked through the flaps of your cot, blinding you for a few seconds as you laid there trying to regain your emotions.

You wipe your eyes as you push yourself to sit up, head pounding roughly before you stand.

Numbness coated your insides as you prepared to start your day. There was a lot of nothing going around the clan of Kekunan, families still learning to adjust to life without their loved ones and now that everyone was healed by your hands, and the hands of your mother, and the many healers in your clan, there was not much to do.

Once you made it outside of your cot you felt warmness bloom in your stomach, nudging you in the direction of your Ikran. Evu was a deep forest green, the tips of her wings were a soft shade of blue, and her wingspan larger than most. She was gentle, sweet and protective whenever you were around her and you felt her call to you.

The memory of not catching your brother on time had forced you to neglect time with Evu, feeling guilty anytime you looked at her, anytime you felt the welcoming breeze through your hair and on your skin, but you missed her.

With quick steps you made it to her, her head cocked to the side in silent question before she started happily chirping. In almost clumsy steps she made her way to you, nuzzling her face into yours as she continued to clack loudly. The ache that had settled into your chest seemed to melt away as you patted her softly, grabbing your kuru before connecting it with her.

You felt her excitement as you mounted her, your hearts thrumming as one as the two of you took off. This was the first time in weeks that you felt the wind kiss your skin and flow through your hair, your eyes watering slightly as you finally felt at ease. Your mind only focused on flying, the feeling of freedom consuming you.

It was clear that Evu was feeling just as cheerful as she soared freely, performing beautifully as she twirled in the air, showing off her skill. It dawned on you that she was trying to prove herself to you, to prove to you that she was worthy of riding and it caused your heart to soar. She thought she had done something wrong. Your hands gently soothed her as you patted her neck, praising her softly as the two of you flew above the jungle of Pandora.

You spent hours flying, only returning when the ache of your legs became too difficult to ignore. Your legs wobbled when your feet touched the ground, showering Evu with last bits of affection before walking to your parents' cot.

There was excitement consuming your people, it was palpable as they whispered to each other, pointing and smiling towards your parents cot. Before you could think too much about it, one of the village children ran up to you, calling out your name happily.

You smiled down at her, “Mawey, It’ey.”

She smiled shyly as she tried to catch her breath, but the twitch of her ears showed her excitement, “The Tsahik of the Omatikaya is here! She is asking for you!”

You felt like the blood drained from your face, nerves bubbling up your throat as you tried to think of what business the Tsahik could have with you. “Are you sure, It’ey?”

The young girl nodded, not catching onto the way your hands began to tremble slightly.

“Yes! She brought her daughter as well.”

You sent her a soft smile, patting her hair gently, “Thank you.”

It took a few seconds before you were able to continue on your track to your parents home. Memories rushed to the forefront of your mind as you recalled the last time they were here, and the outcome.

You did not regret the decision to fight with them, but it left you with so many internal scars that you have not been able to heal, you feared what they needed you for.

When you pushed the flap open you were met with 6 pairs of eyes glowing at you. You directed your gaze towards the guest first, “Mo’at, Neytiri, oel ngatie kameie.”

The older woman sent you a soft smile and just as you were about to turn to your parents, Neytiri caught your wrist and stilled your movements.

“It’s great to see you again, I wish I would have had more time to speak with you after everything happened, after the battle but-you look to be doing well. I hope you can find time for us to speak, show me around the Kekunan jungle.”

Your body tensed at the mention of the war, and if she noticed she did not comment on it. You only sent her a tight lipped smile before pulling away from her, greeting your parents and your two brothers. The air was tense in the cot, everyone staring at you with mixed emotions and you felt your throat tighten. “I was told by one of the children that I was being looked for.”

“Ah yes, come here ‘ite.”

You did as told, sitting down besides your mother, she began to soothe your hair, something she always did to try and comfort you and your siblings before giving you big news.

“The Tsahik and her daughter have traveled all the way over here for you.”

Your ears twitched softly, dread consuming you and you turned to look at the two women, “They have come to ask for your hand, for the Olo’eyktan.”

#tsu’tey #tsu’tey x reader #tsu’tey angst #jake sully #jake sully x reader #avatar #avatar the way of water #neytiri #jake sully angst #tsutey #tsutey x reader #tsutey avatar #tsu’tey avatar #avatar tsu'tey

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gatheringbones · 8 months

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[“The problem is that we have exiled sex in our minds. We have isolated it from the larger inclusive narrative and we have limited its definition to that which serves the most privileged class of protagonists.

I think that this is a symptom of that other habit of treating whole classes of human beings as though their stories do not have the stakes, narrative depth, and complexity typically assigned to dominant protagonists. It is a craft quandary indeed to write yet another sex scene in which a white male protagonist exercises his archetypal masculinity on a secondary, two-dimensional character functioning as a prop in his hero’s journey without any narrative awareness of this exhausted trope.

But to write a sex scene in which that marginalized character is treated with some reverence and depth? To write it from their perspective? Or to write a scene in which a white male character experiences, even in an inchoate way, the deep discomfort that occurs when we act out our erotic story on another body without recognizing its humanity? I’ll repeat the unrule: you can use any words you want.

Here is Eileen Myles, from Inferno, in case you thought comparing a pussy to soup, or using the word crotch, was out of bounds or unsexy:

But after kissing her mouth a little chapped which seemed familiar then feeling her breasts not so large, but nice round and beautiful, familiar breasts, ones I already knew in some way I tugged down her pants. She said Oh. Like a soft amount of light, a small gust of wind. And luckily she had some sweatpants on or something, a stretchy waist. Easy getting them down and there were her lemony legs. Not big not strong, but smooth soft hair like peaches everything that way. Pink rose warm. I just dived down. It couldn’t have been too fast. Time was being so slow and warm. And there it was. A pussy, the singular place on a girl, it’s where I’m going. Wiggly thing, like soup, like a bowl. Another mouth. Like lips between her legs and the taste of it. Piss and fruit. I pressed my face against its bone and it moved. She was letting me. All this was happening. I smelled the future right there, a present and a past. All that went through her, known through the soft sweet flesh of her lips and clit. It was like my face felt loved temporarily […] I felt plunged into a tropical movie in which light was bathing my head and her pussy, her cunt, her crotch was a warm smile and for a moment I lived in her sun.

The revelation here is not that these words can be used in a sex scene, but that a pussy, a cunt, a crotch can be transformed by a sex scene. “Language is never innocent,” Roland Barthes once wrote, and I agree. Here, in the sense that the words pussy, cunt, and crotch all carry the connotative luggage of all their previous contexts—the violence, disgust, and pornographic theater of all the scenes and mouths I’ve heard them in and from. Experience, however, is innocent. This narrator’s sexual reality is so powerful a phenomenon that it washes these words of their previous connotations. Now they mean not a wimp or a bitch or the place on a woman that belongs to a man, but something magnificent and weird, pure and exotic, deeply familiar and erotic—a warm smile, a cosmic body. Just as sweatpants become perfect attire for such a scene, smooth soft hair like peaches, and the actual smell of sex a good one. When they enter this revelatory scene, these degraded words are suddenly imbued with the same reverence as their speaker. To use them is an incontrovertible act of (re)creation.”]

melissa febos, from body work: the radical power of personal narrative, 2022

#melissa febos #currently reading #terra preta

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tangerinesilk · 11 months

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－ I CAN SEE YOU : TANGERINE X FEM!READER

tangerine is going on a solo mission… well, at least he thinks he is. with lemon missing by his side, he’s left with one other option that is supposed to make his job easier. unfortunately for him, you’re not the easiest to work with. stubborn, strong-minded and feisty. you’re both so alike yet nothing has made your bloods boil more than each other.

rating ✷ r (18+ minors dni!)

warnings ✷ (very quick) smut: fem receiving, kisses all over bodies, a needy but quick hj, p in v, dirty talk, praising, implied rough (consensual) sex / others: cursing, drinking alcohol, mention and use of guns and violence, male hurting female (?) but not between main characters, mentions of blood and wounds.

tropes ✷ enemies to lovers!!!, person a is all talk no bite + person b knows that but still pushes them, playful banter, hiding together in small spaces, fake dating (?), if one is hurt– the other goes a bit crazy, says ‘i dont care’ then cares 5 seconds later.

word count ✷ 6k!

songs that fit the vibe ✷ i can see you - taylor swift | moth to a flame - swedish house mafia + the weeknd | king of my heart - taylor swift | attention - charlie puth | nonsense - sabrina carpenter

a/n ✷ so i made a poll a months ago and this trope + pairing won! i’ve honestly been wanting to write a dave lizewski one as well and got a request idea. so.. we will see lmao. i will probably post then maybe edit later if there's still things i don't like... also, if you couldn't tell but im kind of a swiftie so i will love to write fics inspired by whole ass albums y'all.

but i hope this is what u guys expected and wanted. i actually do love writing for tangerine. just gives into my delulu thoughts. also, if you guys would like a plain pwp fic and not all of this fluff and dialogue stuffed inside, pls let me know bc i am definitely into that idea. 🫡

“You had to go and get yourself shot… then you wonder why you have to wear a bulletproof vest. Fuckin’ hell.”

Tangerine kept his voice at a hushed tone, basically talking under his breath as he strutted through the grand hall of the hotel. Golden light glossed over his figure, passing by couples who were at standing tables with their cocktails.

“Well, Thomas said-”

“Thomas didn’t say shit. Don’t get me fuckin’ started now.”

Lemon already knew Tan was in a bad mood. Another Thomas the Tank Engine factoid wasn’t a playful move right now.

“Hey, mate. Don’t get all fussy wit’ me. You’re just mad about your new partner for the night.” Lemon rolled his eyes.

“Can’t believe I can’t be held accountable of myself. I can handle it on my own but you had to call the fuckin’ princess-”

“She’s good. Your denial is obnoxious, bruv. It’s only a night, you get in and get out.” Lemon replied, holding his wounded side as he laid in his bed back in England, “What happened between you two that you’ve got beef like this?”

“No time to explain nor do I have the patience.” He arrived at the small bar to the side of the room, “If I leave her behind, can I take half the pay that’s supposed to be hers?” Tangerine asked.

“She’s supposed to be wearing a red dress. You’ll see her there… and please don’t cause a scene.” His brother begged.

“No promises.” He replied before hanging up.

Tangerine blows a sigh past his lips, quickly asking for his drink of choice before scanning the mass of people around him. His blue eyes could only search so fast for the man that the hit was called on, causing him an instant frustration when he’s already worried about you ruining things regardless of how long you’re together.

“He’s next to the woman in the tacky gold ballgown… about two feet away from the ice sculpture.” Your soft voice suddenly spoke next to him, “But, I didn’t need to tell you that, right?”

The smirk on your face burned at his nerves and you noticed the clench in his jaw.

“Well, if it isn’t the fuckin’ Queen herself.” He said in a stern tone, “What? Germany was too borin’ for ya? Had to figure out a way to ruin someone’s operation?”

“Lemon is the one who called me in, and it isn’t about you. It’s about the pay out… you’re bound to screw something up with your ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ tactic.” You trailed, rolling your eyes as you turned your head away.

“And I’m certainly not afraid to use that tonight and not your fucked up, painfully long mind games like some fuckin’ psycho thilling killer.” He spat as his drink was place in front of him.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Fuck you.”

“Darling, I’m flattered, but we have more important things to do right now.” He lowly groaned, purposefully looking at his target so his back was facing toward you.

Behind his tall stature, you glimpsed past his shoulder and saw your target chatting up a woman.

He won’t be smiling for long, you thought.

“Alright, I’ll wait for him to slip away, follow him and you go through the kitchen.” Tangerine said under his breath, keeping quiet for only you to hear him.

“To go where?” You ask, walking around him to stand face to face.

“Erm…” He sighed, “Whatever car or vehicle you got here in, drive yourself back to whatever place you’re staying and I’ll figure out how to wire you the money.” He shrugged, downing the rest of his drink.

He took a step but you placed your hand on the center of his chest, “Not so fast. I’m not going down if you make a mess of this.”

“I don’t make messes. Well, actually, I get away with them once I’ve done ‘em so, I don’t need to worry about a liability.” Tangerine smirked, a bit of a tilt to his head. Cheeky bastard.

“The only liability here is the one who is ready to pull the trigger in his back.” You said before huffing, “I’m not sorry for what happened in Paris, but that was my choice. So, I’m going with you because it’s our operation. You know… I don’t need a fucking helping hand either.” You practically growled.

The two of you held a long gaze, creating a tense eye contact before he sighed, “Didn’t even say anythin’ about Paris, but if you’d like to assume I’m still mad ‘bout that, be my guest, princess.”

His shoulder bumped yours, making you clench your jaw before quickly following behind his tall stature. While he seemed persistent, you grabbed his hand which made him stop in his tracks in the middle of the dance floor.

He turned, “Am I your babysitter?”

“No, you’re my date. Hold my hand, you idiot.” Your eyes pierced through his.

As he looked down at your hand, he slowly grasped it, your fingers intertwining with one another’s before he proceeded through the glamorous crowd.

Couples swayed and waltzed between each step you took, assuming you were unnoticed by your target. Tangerine kept his eyes on him, easy to with the frosty-white full head of hair he had slicked back. The woman in the tacky dress ran her hand down his shoulder, pressing her lips to his ear to whisper something which made you and Tangerine veer to the side at a standing table.

“Are they movin’?” He asked, facing his back toward them.

Your eyes smoothly shift, taking a quick glance at the assumed couple. You ran your hand down Tangerine’s arm, accidentally feeling how toned his bicep was through the thick fabric of his suit jacket. You almost glanced down, wanting to give another squeeze before clearing your throat. A heat rose on your cheeks as you turned your head to face away from him.

“Y-Yeah, near the bathroom. There’s also a backdoor that leads up to the second floor… lots of private rooms for reasons that are obvious.” You said in a hushed tone, moving away from him to the other side of the table.

“Alright, since you wanna tag along, I’ll follow them and you cover the door.” Tangerine suggested once again.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “You do understand what teamwork is, yes?”

He chuckled, “Yes, I go up there, shoot a few rounds, then we make a getaway.”

“Will you just trust me?”

“Your trust means nothing… I need to know you’re not going to fuck anything up. Just like in Paris.”

You smirked, “So you do have that against me.”

“Well, it’s not like it was your best. Leave me with a shot in the arm, Lemon on the ground and you, little miss greed, get away with your cash. If we all did this job for money, we wouldn’t be riskin’ our lives just runnin’ around killin’ or resucin’ people just for someone’s dime. You obviously do though.”

You narrowed your eyes, “You don’t know me…”

“Nor do you know me so…” He huffed, “Let’s just do what we have to do.”

There was tension between you, as if there was more fo a protective instinct than hate toward one another. You couldn't figure out Tangerine’s deal. Why was he so hostile toward you? Yes, what happened in Paris was fucked up, but he wasn’t the type to hold a grudge. He didn’t take shit from anyone, so why were you getting under his skin?

“Shit!” He grunted under his breath, seeing your target disappear into the hall.

The two of you hurry, yet still try to act casual to not raise eyebrows, and exit into the same hallway. As you push open the door, you hear the two talking in the stairwell before another door closes.

“You got your gun on you?” He asked as his hand slid into the back of his pants.

“Of course.” You scoffed, tearing up the slit in your dress. He saw the small pistol strapped to your thigh, making his mouth a bit dry.

He nodded, “Good…”

Taking a quick breath, Tangerine opened the door. You slipped through and he followed behind, your backs facing one another as you scanned the hallway. It wasn’t narrow but if anyone slipped out of one of the rooms, they were right in your sights.

“I’ll take this one, you take that one.” He whispered, pointing his gun to the opposite door of his.

With your heart in your throat, you slowly crack the door open and don’t see anyone before a body flies from behind and slammed the door open from Tangerine’s side. The woman lied dead on the floor, blood all over his dress, and just as you turned around, a punch slid across your cheek.

Instinctively, you ducked to dodge the second jab and swoop under to get on the other side of the man as Tangerine wrapped his arms around the guy to pull him to the ground.

Tan loudly grunted as he tried to gain control, basically attempting to straddle him in order to push his arm against his neck. Even with all his strength, the man gripped his hands around Tangerine’s arms to throw him off along with trying to push his knee between his crotch.

“Watch the door!” Tan directed to you.

You nodded, catching your breath with your back against the wall by the door. The adrenaline ran through your veins and heard your heartbeat in your ears as one tear of blood dripped down your cheek. The crack of bones made you turn your head, seeing the man’s body go limp as Tan began to stand over him.

He quickly walked over the man, as if he was in the way, and comes to your side.

“He nicked you bad. Lemme see.” Tan said, your eyes meeting his as he held your cheek. The touch of his hand seemed to be some comfort, his thumb wiping the blood away and trying to see how bad the wound was.

“Bastard.” He muttered, “C’mon, let’s go before someone comes up.”

Without a word in, he grabbed your hand and dragged you behind his lead. You two headed for the exit door down the other side of the hall as you heard footsteps rumble from the other stairs you came up.

“Wait a minute.” Tan said, fiddling with his belt buckle.

Your eyes widen, “What on earth are you doing?”

He smirked, “Relax, darling. You flatter yourself too much.”

You rolled your eyes as the sound of his belt slid against the fabric of his belt loops before curling the leather strap around the door to keep it locked. The two of you fled down the stairs and suddenly found yourselves in the kitchen area. A few eyes followed as you both ran through, very obvious that you were running from something, but still aimed to get to some kind of exit.

With sudden luck, Tangerine saw his car across the street, instantly knowing which way he was supposed to go. Without skipping a beat, he grabbed your hand once more and the two of you ran across the street. Hopping into the passenger seat and Tan taking off was like a blur, just happening in seconds.

“Y/N?” Tan saying your name woke you from your trance.

“Huh?” You asked, shaking your head.

He quickly turned his head, “You alright?” He said with concern, one hand on the steering wheel and his foot easing off the gas.

“Y-Yeah, I’m okay. I don’t know what happened back there.” You trailed, a bit embarrassed. You were never one to let your guard down, well– enough to get hit right smack in the face.

“Are you sure?”

You turned your attention to him, “I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?” You asked rhetorically.

“‘Cause of that big cut on your cheek.”

You narrowed your eyes, “Alright, what’s your big plan now, Einstein? Were just going to sleep in your car and hope we don’t wake up decapitated?”

He half-chuckled, “You truly think so little of me, don’t you?”

“Is that rhetorical?”

Tan rolled his blue eyes, “We’re goin’ somewhere safe.”

– – –

You wanted to believe you were strolling into some kind of trap. The lobby had a classic aesthetic to it, pale gold wallpaper and a wall of keys behind the person at the small front desk. You two placed your go-bags on the red carpeted ground as Tangerine checked into a room.

“Hello Mr. Tangerine.”

Oh, great. He’s some guest of honor here.

“‘Ello, Colin. My usual room.”

“Is that what you say in front of all the girls?” You tilted your head, standing behind him.

He rolled his eyes, “‘Cuse her.”

The man chuckled, crinkles by his eyes, “How many nights are you staying this time?”

This time. You could scoff out loud but you didn’t want to hear the tude from him.

“Just overnight. Nothin’ too serious.”

“Well, enjoy your stay, as always.” The man nodded before Tangerine thanked him.

The two of you head toward the old elevator, watching him quickly press the up button before you stand by his side. You half chuckled, “I’ve never seen you act so kindly toward anyone, tell me, does he see you bring girls through here all the time or-”

“Has anyone ever told you to shut your pie hole?”

“Hmm, not verbally. But, those eyes of your say enough for me… you’re too predictable, sometimes, Tan.”

He gave you a lingering look as the door opened, passing him into the elevator. The two of you make your way to the fifth floor and the hall is eerily quite for a hotel full of private contractors and assassins. You had your hands behind your back then patiently waited for Tangerine to jiggle the key into the lock, opening a door to a huge room with a surprisingly wide view.

“You’d think the curtains were closed.” You muttered as he walked over, closing them anyways.

Suddenly, he stripped from his suit jacket and you couldn’t help but see how tight his button up was around his biceps and chest.

“Did you get that a size too small?” You ask as you chunk your heels into the corner.

“Well, I certainly can’t kill fuckin’ bloaks wearing baggy clothes now.”

“But, you can in a three piece suit?” You cocked your eyebrow.

He licked his lips, “As if your dress is a flexible material.” Tangerine said as he pulled his rings off, placing them on the night stand.

“I can say the same for your pants.”

Tangerine wanted to look down but didn’t give into your comment. You place your bag down on the bed, grabbing your silk pajamas nearly folded on top and changed in the bathroom.

“God, just go to bed. We’ve got a long day tomorrow.” You somewhat groaned.

You sit on the top of the bed, unfolding the duvet before shoving it off to get underneath them.

Tangerine paused, “What the fuck do you you’re doin’?”

You furrowed your eyebrow, “This thing called going to sleep. Try it sometime, you’d be less grouchy.”

He rolled his eyes, “I know that, smartass, I mean what’re you doin’ in the bed that I’m goin’ to be sleepin’ in too?”

You rolled over, putting your weight on your elbows, “I know you’re dramatic but this takes the cake for top performances.”

He faked a laugh, “If you don’t get your ass out of that bed in two seconds, I’ll throw you in the tub with a pillow.”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to. Fine, do it.” You said before laying flat into the mattress, staring straight at the ceiling.

He didn’t care for your equal amount of sarcasm, but he just gave you a cocked eyebrow.

“Okay, fine. I’d rather sleep on the floor anyways.” He said, stretching his arms up and behind his head. Your eyes quickly admired his muscles before turning back.

“Be my guest, princess.” You scoffed, slipping on your pajama shorts, “I’ll enjoy my big comfy bed.”

You pulled the heavy duvet over your waist, curling up with the dense pillow beneath your head.

Tangerine stood there, biting the inside of his cheek as he watched you roll on your side. He tilted his head back before unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it on the desk chair. Although your eyes were closed, his side of the bed sunk in and you tried to hold back your smile at his faded stubbornness.

With your backs facing one another, you two just listened to the silence of the city. It gave you a moment to think of Paris– the last time you were with one another or much rather supposed to be against each other. You were a double agent, not exactly proud of it but you let greed take over your motivated justice.

Having to scam Lemon and Tangerine wasn’t your finest hour either, you thought about it for months and finally coming face to face with Tangerine (out of the two, he wasn’t the one you would want to bump into again), all the guilt came rushing back like the snap of an elastic band.

– – –

The morning sun runs through the thin silk of the curtains, shining over your bodies in the bed. You wake up to the sound of light snoring, happy that you could sleep through it, and Tangerine in a deep slumber with his arm over the bed. He suddenly looked like innocence, so soft and tender, simply laying there like it was any other day.

You sit up, putting your hair out of your face then head to the bathroom. When you turn the light on, you’re almost surprised to see your reflection. Forgetting about the scar against your cheek, you look more rough around the edges. You sigh as you run your fingers over it, remembering the way Tangerine did last night.

After washing up, you go back out and Tangerine is now standing up and stretching his arms above his head. Your eyes quickly shift up his body, admiring the tattoos in their random places and how the band of his briefs rest on his hips. You sealed your lips from smiling at how sharp his v-line was accompanied by the happy trail disappearing into his pants.

“Sleep good with that stick in your ass?” You retort, passing him.

He rolled his eyes, “...You’re annoying, ya know that?”

“Oh, you’ve made that clear.” You mocked him as you closed the curtains more, “That’s why I love to do it.”

Tangerine flicked on the lamp, giving the room a warm glow.

“Alright, I say we lay low today. Better to be out of sight and–”

You cut him off, “Stuck in this room together?... are you trying to kill me t–”

He then put his hand over your mouth, looking deep into your eyes, “Yes, stuck in this room where we can keep an eye on each other and you can’t screw me over again.”

Your heart stopped for a split second, as if he couldn’t have been more of the controlling one. He took his hand away and you gulped, “Yep. Fine. Fair.”

Tangerine pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek before you go to your bag in the chair that’s pushed in the corner of the room. You slightly bend over to look inside your duffle and his icy eyes can’t help but look up the back of your thighs and straight at your ass and lower back. How he could easily put his hands on your hips and make you hold onto something.

He shook his head, feeling like he was coming down with something to even imagine that thought.

You pulled out an old novel and sat yourself back on the bed, hoping that the hours would pass as you sank further into the broken-in mattress.

Tangerine sat down in the chair nudged into the corner, adjacent from your view, and he pulled out his gun that was conveniently tucked into the back of his pants.

“Are you actually holding me hostage?” You furrowed your brows, but didn’t take your eyes from your sentence.

“Whatever fantasy you’d like you believe.” He trailed, opening his gun and emptying his rounds into his palm.

– – –

Suddenly, you leaped out of a deep sleep. Your book laid open on your stomach while an extra pillow was between your legs. Your eyes fluttered open, thinking the past few days has been a dream, until you noticed Tangerine wasn’t sitting in the chair. You quickly looked around before hearing the bathroom door open and he stepped out, shirtless and in new dark slacks that rested on his hips.

Your mouth became dry. How could you dislike him so much yet here you are, ready to jump his bones as he crossed the room.

“What are you getting dressed for?” You asked, rubbing your eyes.

He half-chuckled at your groggy voice, “I want a drink.”

“Oh, like you’re not just going to abandon me here like I did you?... Where you go, I go.” You warned him.

He rolled his eyes, “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“A bit hypocritical coming from you.”

Tangerine just ignored your smart comment and opened the door, letting you through first before he followed. His eyes, once again, trace your lower back and trailed down your legs. His cheeks flushed pink as he quickly looked away, clearing his throat as he caught up to you so you two were walking side by side.

You pushed the faded down button as you pushed a big breath past your lips. Tangerine put his back against the wall and crossed his arms, his muscles basically restraining in his light button up. As you turned around, you rolled your eyes– but not at him, just at yourself. How could you have any little feeling for someone who also annoyed you to your core?

He took your silence as a bit of a tease. To be fair, you two didn’t really know one another. You met once before and then you simply betrayed him. Quickly, you were dead to him, but now you’re forced to be together and it raised an important question to himself too. Why was he helping someone who obviously can’t be trusted?

Tangerine furrowed his eyebrows at that thought, knowing he would have thrown you to the wolves last night after you closed your eyes. He played with his watch a bit before the elevator dinged and caught both of your attentions.

After entering, the low-sounding shifting mechanics of the elevator were the only sounds between you two. You heard Tangerine sniffle, seeing him stretch his neck out of the corner of your eye, but you kept a straight view to the doors. While Tangerine thought you were continuing to give him the silent treatment, you were lost in your own thoughts of the past.

You flashbacked to your last night in Paris together, and remembered how the guilt creeped up on you knowing that, in a few hours, you’d have to betray both Lemon and Tangerine. Before knowing them, you didn’t care, but now that you’ve realized how hard you were falling for Tan, it felt like a double edged sword. If you didn’t do it, maybe you could stay with him– have a life together. But, if you went through with your selfish heist, you’d lose the guy who made you comfortable with being vulnerable after a long time.

Obviously, you regretted your decision.

“Is this what you want?” You simply asked.

Tangerine quickly turned his head, “What?”

You rolled your eyes before facing his direction, “This.” You gestured between the two of you, “The weird animosity and constantly arguing and nit-picking?”

He never thought you’d be so bold to point it out, “I mean, we don’t like each other. Simple, isn’t it?”

“I guess…” You trailed, facing back toward the doors.

Tangerine licked his lips, wondering if he should utter the words on his tongue.

“...But, that doesn’t mean we can’t start over.”

You looked over your shoulder once more before turning around to him, “You mean that?”

He arched his eyebrow, “Should I regret it now?”

Just as the elevator dinged, the doors slowly opened and the hotel lobby appeared empty. You smirked to yourself, “Why don’t we catch up over that drink, huh?” You sort of teased– not sure if it had purpose.

– – –

Your drink tasted smooth, easily trailing down your throat as you leaned your head back to finish off the rest of the liquor in your glass. Once you tilted your head back straight, you were met with Tangerine’s signature eyebrow arch.

“Don’t worry, I’m paying for my own drinks.” You sighed, placing your glass back down on the wooden table top.

“As long as I don’t got to carry you back up to the room.” He sighed, sounding more defeated than witty, then his blue eyes glanced down then back into your eyes.

You hummed, running your finger along the rim of the empty glass.

“‘right so, what’ve you been doin’ since we last…” He cleared his throat, “saw one other?”

You crossed your leg over the other, “Not much. Actually, it’s the first time I’ve been out for a while. After leaving you guys, I laid low in Tuscany.”

“For how long?”

You shrugged, “Five months? I was on the countryside and I wanted to be alone…” then, you smirked, “I heard that you were in Kyoto.”

Tangerine could chuckle about it now, “For a bit. Had a job to do for some psychotic, fucked up family. The dad called in us, they were all turin’ on each other. Whole fuckin’ thing…”

“As in…” You trailed, “Against one another? The whole family?”

He just nodded before taking a sip of his drink.

You raised your eyebrows, “Wow… and you got out with no bruises or cuts? Bullet holes?”

Tangerine licked his lips before he presented the side of his neck, lighter skin over his tanner tone to show the scar. You carefully reached out, brushing your fingers against it which made a tingle go up his spine. You sit back down as he turned back in his chair, and he seemed to tense up.

“Amazing you survived it.” You sealed your lips.

He crossed his arms, “I supposed…”

A comfortable silent fell between you, the light, jazz music playing at a low, and Tangerine’s eyes trailed up the side of your bare leg. He didn’t mean to stare this much, but he felt more vulnerable than usual. One thing you knew is that Tangerine was a layered person, you had to take time to get to the center of him and realize he’s not so cold once you get to know him.

“Five months in Tuscany, I bet that was lovely.”

“Not really. I isolated the whole time… I wanted to be by myself, but I felt bad about what happened… what I did in Paris.” You admitted, but didn’t look into his eyes, fearing that he would turn on you in a second.

Tangerine sighed, “You had to do your job, we did ours… that’s ‘bout all that can be said.”

Assuming from the lack of eye contact and his tone, he seemed hurt too. You could easily let it boost your ego, but, you actually felt a relief. This hatred you’ve held against each other has finally come down and even though it wasn’t actually said, both of you can feel hostility leave the room.

You bit the inside of your cheek, “Remember, we’re starting over. Clean slate. I hope I’m making a good impression so far.” You raised your eyebrows, lifting your glass again just to drink the mixture of watered down liquor.

He chuckled, “You’re just lovely.”

The comment made your face get hot. You blame the accent and how it can just get under your skin.

“I don’t think you’ve ever called me something so nice.”

Tangerine smirked, “Funny since we’ve just met, darling.”

Darling.

It was the first time you heard it as a term of endearment then pure spite.

You rolled your eyes, but you could humor that Tangerine was going along with it. This new cheeky side of him was something you didn’t think existed– maybe it was the liquor talking, but you hoped it wasn’t just that simple.

“So, what brings you here?” You continued to tease, placing your elbows on the table, “Business… or pleasure?” Your hand laid on top of his, brushing your fingertips along the chunky rings that perfectly fit his fingers.

Multiples thoughts sounded through both your minds.

“Maybe it’s the liquor.” “Maybe we’re a little over our heads.” “Maybe we’re bored.”

But, Tangerine held your hand on top of the table, gently holding it as his thumb grazes over your knuckles.

“Depends…” He trailed, now leaning in too, “What are you here for?”

– – –

In just a few minutes, you two were back in the room you felt trapped in for hours.

Tangerine pressed your back against the wall, a tingle running up your spine from the coolness of the wallpaper. Your lips pressed together over and over, tilting your head before biting his bottom lip. He effortlessly lifted you up with his hand under the back of your thighs, and your ankles meet around his back.

He needed so bad, desperate even… and the feeling was mutual.

He put you down on your feet again, pressing a kiss against your scarred cheek then another on your jaw. His light kisses run down the middle of your breasts as his hand lifted up the end of your skirt. You pushed your hips out as your back was against the wall still, watching him pull down your panties in an instant. You kick them to the side and Tangerine placed your leg over his shoulder, kisses along your inner thigh and your hand ran through the front of his curls.

Suddenly, his tongue ran over your swollen clit before sucking on it. With one hand in his hair, the other caressing your breast and running your thumb over your nipple.

Tangerine panted, moving his hand against your pussy lips. He pushed them apart, showing your tight hole and how you clench around nothing. He lowly groaned, running his fingers over your clit before sliding his two fingers into your pussy. You bite your bottom lip to hold back the moan stuck in your throat, watching him suck your clit and finger you at the same time.

Just as your climax neared, he felt your cunt tighten around his fingers. He couldn’t end it like this so, he took them away. You let your leg down, watching him come back up and tower over you.

“If I’m goin’ to make you cum…” He sighed, “I’m gonna be deep inside you when you fucking crumble.” He said so low before pressing his fingers against your tongue, and you tasted yourself.

You pulled his hand back, running your thumbs over his tattooed hand.

“Not if I make you cum first.” You trailed, moving his hand down so you could kiss him.

He could drop to his knees in an instant, but Tangerine surprisingly kept his composure.

You smirked as you pushed him toward the bed, the back of his knees hitting it to make him sit down. As you stood in front of him, he leaned on his elbows as he watched your dress drop to the floor. It pooled at your ankles and when his eyes shifted back up, so glossed over, your bare body was the center of his attention.

“Hmm, I don’t think you’ll last.” You taunted.

As much as he could snap back, you straddled him and pulled apart his tightly buttoned shirt. Your hands ran over his toned and tatted chest before reaching down to his pants, unzipping the fly and he shuffled a bit to shift them off his hips. His cock was hard, restrained from his boxers and you felt flattered.

You giggled, leaning forward to share a slow kiss with him. Your bare pussy rubbed against his cock as you moved closer to him. A low groan mumbled between your makeout, and you pushed him back so you two both fell on the bed.

Your hands pressed into each side of the mattress, gaining strength to help yourself grind against his hard. His big hands tightly held your hips as you continued your smooth momentum, whimpering at your clit being rubbed by your harsh grind.

As heat rose in the room, your right hand dipped between the two of you, and ran over his hard cock once more. Tan’s lips now desperately met your jaw before taking a light bite at your neck. The feeling of your hand caressing through his boxers could make him release right there.

Becoming more impatient, you finally pushed your hand into the band of his boxers and he once more moved his hips to shift out of them.

“Fuck, your cock is so big… can barely hold it with my hand. God, I want you to stretch me out…” You moaned, “Is that okay?”

You purposefully let him believe that he was in charge, and you were falling into the submissive role. Tangerine gained a bit of confidence from your desperate comments, and he sat more up on the bed.

“Fucking christ…” Is all he could say.

He moved the swollen and red tip against your wet slit, also aching and needing your walls to wrap around him now. At first there was pressure, pushing the tip inside your hole then slowly guiding your hips down to completely take in every inch of his cock.

Once he bottomed out, your body lightly shook as your lips brushed against his. He was fully inside you, the tight and warm feeling making him wither beneath you.

Tangerine moved his hand, kissing your shoulder, “God, you feel like fuckin’ heaven.”

“Don’t stop. Please…” You huffed.

– – –

Then, it was morning.

The rising sun peaked through the small split of the curtains. As you tried to shift, your body ached throughout every muscle. A small groan left your lips, but you were pulled back by a strong arm wrapped around your waist.

It snapped you back into reality. Last night really happened… and you were okay with that.

Tangerine’s tattooed arm unconsciously tightened around you, holding you close still as he still slept behind you. You barely look over your shoulder and saw his face, his eyes still shut and his curls looked wild.

You faintly smile as you turn around to face him, and that’s what woke him up. He pulled his arms back and rubbed his eyes from the brightness of the sun coming in. You run your finger along a curl on his forehead, pushing it to the top of his head and your heart melted from the sight of those blue eyes.

“Did last night really happen?” You mumbled, but with a faint smile on your lips.

He placed his hand gently on your cheek, caressing his thumb against your jaw.

“I think the real question is…” He trailed, “Do we stay another night or go back to pretending to not know each other's existences?”

You bit your bottom lip, lightly giggling, “I think we pick secret option three and go somewhere else. Get away for a while… see where this is going. Don’t you?”

Just at that moment, Tangerine’s phone vibrated in his pants that were on the floor next to the bed. He turned over on his other side, reaching down to pull it out and reading a text Lemon just sent.

“Got a call about a job in Budapest. Are you in or overstaying your weekend?”

Tangerine smirked at himself, then felt your lips press against his neck. You placed another kiss on his shoulder, leaving a tender love bite before he turned back around to kiss you. Maybe it was the natural thrill of the chase, but you loved the not knowing.

Whatever was next, you could only hope that he kept it interesting.

#tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x you #tangerine fic

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honeybeefae · 1 year

Note

Congrats on the 2K!! 🥳🥳🕺💃🕺 I am feeling a lil hurt trope/ enemies to lovers for an Azriel X reader fic (BUT only if you would like!!)

(say less SAY LESS ANON. I LOVE ME SOME HURT ENEMIES TO LOVERS)

Enemy of My Enemy (Azriel X Reader)

WARNINGS: Blood, pain, bandaging

You were in the middle of battling some of Hybern's forces, your stance strong as you landed hit after hit against them. The rest of your group, Rhys, Feyre, Cass, Azriel, Mor, Amren, and others were also fighting them off as the army desperately tried to invade your lands.

"Bloody bitch!" One of them sneered at you through their helmet, his sword clashing against your own as you swiped under his feet and made him fall on his ass.

The tip of your blade immediately went through the helmet and into his face, ending his life as easily as blowing out a candle. You let out a huff of breath and spit on him, tasting the blood and dirt that coated your face.

"See what calling me a bitch earns you, you bastard." You snark, not noticing the large man coming up behind you.

His foot hit against a fallen Hybern soldier as he rose up to strike you, alerting you at the last second. You had just enough time to avoid a killing blow but he still caught your arm, slicing through your skin and leaving you in searing pain.

"Fuck!" You hissed, feeling the familiar sting of faebane on his sword as you ducked from the following swing. Blood was oozing from the deep cut as you let out a loud cry and sliced him through his stomach with your good arm, your eyebrows furrowing as you heard a loud horn blow three times in the distance.

Suddenly all of Hybern's soldiers winnowed away, retreating like the cowards they were. You looked around and did your best to get a head count, grimacing as you counted less than you had arrived with.

"You need to pay more attention." A deep voice rumbled from behind you. "I saw you almost get taken out by a single soldier and I had half a mind to let you since you were being so careless."

Azriel's voice made you scowl. He had had it out for you since you joined this group to fight. Besides not fawning over him like every other woman in his life, you didn't know what you did to make him hate you.

He was a cold, heartless Illyrian as far as you were concerned. You hated how he tried to analyze you and how his shadows drifted after you when you passed him by. The feeling was definitely returned by him since he tried to get in a dig every time he saw you.

"At least you admit you have half a mind." You quipped, turning around and eyeing his bloody attire. "Though I think half a mind is a little generous."

One of his hands came up to grab your shoulder, probably to shove you onto the ground until you cursed through your teeth and gave a small cry. Immediately his eyes were scanning your arm, his eyebrows furrowing when he noticed the wound.

"Who did this to you?"

You didn't answer as you tried your best to sheath your sword with one arm. Azriel grabbed your face roughly, turning it until you were staring directly at him.

"I asked you a question. Who did this to you?" He asked lowly, hazel eyes burning with anger.

"Get off me." You say roughly, pulling your face away in an attempt to get some distance. "Why do you care? You just said you would let me die a minute ago."

"I have my reasons that do not concern you. Now, for the third time, who did this to you?" You could tell he was getting impatient, his tone tight. He continued to stand right in front of you with little room left between your bodies. The scent of his sweat mixed with dirt and blood was something you were surprised and disgusted to find appealing.

"A Hybern soldier." You mumble, looking back down at your cut. "Now, if you can leave me be I really need to dress-PUT ME DOWN!!" You end your snarky goodbye with a screech, wriggling against his body as you are suddenly lifted into his arms as the two of you take off into the skies.

"Azriel, by the old Gods and the Mother, if you do not put me back don't put me back on the ground-"

"You're going to make me go deaf with all that screeching." He said with a smirk, ignoring the feeling of your warm body pressed against his. "I'm taking you over to the healer's tent. I don't want that getting infected."

"I am a grown woman and I can walk there myself!" You protest, shoving him with all your might the second he lands you both outside the tents. "There was no need to manhandle me like that. Go save that for one of Rita's girls."

"Trust me, Y/N, if I wanted to manhandle you it would be much rougher than that." Azriel's chest rumbled, his tan skin glistening with the last rays of the sunset. "I do find it funny that you seem to know about the girls from Rita's. Have you been spying on me?"

"I have better things to do with my time than watch you." You spat angrily, turning on your heel and walking towards the healer as they tended to other wounded soldiers.

You thanked her when she handed you some dressing and medicine to rub on it, turning around to see if Azriel was waiting outside for you. Luckily he wasn't and you felt like you could breathe again.

As you began to clean and wrap your arm you couldn't stop imagining Azriel's hands doing it for you. How he had gripped your face and said those words earlier made your head spin.

No. No. You were absolutely not going to think about this anymore. Not him. Not ever.

The nurse in front of you giggled and looked past you which made you turn again, your eyes widening when you saw the Shadowsinger completely shirtless and tending to his own cuts.

Sweat made him shine from head to toe and you got the very dirty thought about licking the small bead running down his stomach. You immediately clenched your legs together, frowning as you went back to your task.

You needed to get a grip.

#acotar #acotar fic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fic #azriel acotar #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel fanfiction #azriel #enemies to lovers vibe #acotar reader #acotar imagine #acotar reader fic

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mysticmunson · 1 year

Note

here’s an idea i’d love to see you bring to life if it peaks your interest: alpha eddie and omega reader where it’s soon after they presented so her heat isn’t regulated yet and they are on a school trip or weekend away or something semi public like that and she gets her heat and obviously attracts the attention of other alphas in the school/area and he has to keep her safe/save her from said unruly alphas who want to mate her and he gets super protective and all strong alpha she’s mine vibes, that’s my thought, hope you like it xx

camp trails (alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader)

authors note: hi babes! thank you for the request, i love this idea and am a total simp for protective tropes. i have a small headache atm so i whipped this up fairly quickly, but i hope you enjoy! feedback and requests and welcomed :)

warnings: violence, sexual themes (18+)

The yearly trip to the camp grounds became mandatory for seniors this semester, making all the students dread the weekend afoot. Eddie had tried to wager with the teachers to allow him to drive himself, but he may have been the last person they would’ve allowed that to.

The bus came to a screeching halt, catapulting the unguarded students to the seat in front of them, a sequence of groans following. The doors swung open, greeted by the rural spring air that blew in as they made their way out.

Eddie grabbed your hand, walking out with you to observe his surroundings, nose scrunching at the cabins and broad lake. The water glistened with small ripples, some stray leaves floating on top with moss on the sides.

“Alright, line up!” Mr. Richmond hollered, diverting the attention to the man on top of the wooden block. A woman and a man stood on each side, wearing shirts with the camp's logo on it in teal font. The bag slung over your shoulder itched the bare skin there, shifting your shoulders uncomfortably.

There was a silent attendance being taken, the clipboard slotted in Mr. Richmond’s hands, a pen between his fingers as his eyes scanned the sea of 18 and 19 year olds, and one 20 year old with long brown hair.

“Now, we’ll go ahead and put our things away. Girls, you’ll be with Miss Carrie in the left cabin.” He instructed, the petite blonde waving, “And boys, you’ll be with Mr Anthony in the right cabin.”

Separating, you wandered into the spacious wooden chamber, choosing a bottom bunk near the door. Robin snagged the bed above yours, spraying some extra perfume on and running her hand through her short hair.

The other girls joked about what beds they would own for the night, giggling and teasing one another, making you smile. Since presenting, you spent a lot of time with Eddie, which you adored, but sometimes being surrounded by feminine energy was refreshing. The tug on your hand that sent you walking snapped you from your daze, Robin yanking you to her side as she laughed at your aloofness.

Joining the other students by the waterside, you felt lingering eyes on you while yours trained on the small snails going between the blades of debris. Crouching down, you sat gingerly on the damp grass, Robin joining beside you with less grace and a huff.

“Wonder how long it’ll be before a meathead starts a fight?” She pondered, glancing at the boys who were throwing around a football, their varsity jackets hung on a tree branch.

“At least we’ll get some entertainment.” You shrugged, plucking a small yellow flower from the unkept grounds, putting it behind your friend’s ear. She rolled her eyes, a pink flush coming across her cheeks nonetheless.

More students trickled out, bringing boomboxes and blankets, trying to make the most of this unwilling vacation. The squeak of combat boots came from behind you, glancing back to see your boyfriend, sitting and pulling you against his body.

Robin fake gagged, now used to this behavior from the two of you, but choosing to see where Vicky had run off to. Leaning against his shoulder, the heat was radiating off his black shirt, his arms not covered in jackets for once due to the warm air.

“Can’t believe we have to stay in separate rooms.” He complained, a pout on his lips that you desperately wanted to kiss away.

“I know, but it’s school rules and it’ll just be a night.” You assured, patting his thigh through his black jeans, noticing the way his muscles relaxed.

Meals were provided, just some sandwiches and chips, while a snack table did remain stocked. You sat with Eddie, Robin, and Vicky, sharing your joint disdain for the trip entirely. There was peace in knowing others were suffering in a similar fashion, not wanting to be the odd one out.

Separate pockets of students began ways to occupy themselves, Eddie joining a card game with fellow nerds and you went to paint with some of the other girls on the other part of the land. Unwarranted nerves pooled in your stomach, attributing it to being away from home, focusing on the task at hand instead.

Dipping a thin paint brush into the small jar of water that was now murky with blended colors, you began a simple skyline, adding unrealistic clouds of white. The girls around you were within arms reach, sat on the same tattered blanket, but somehow they couldn’t feel farther.

The inescapable loneliness that followed presenting wasn’t something you expected, but you were one of the first omegas in your year, something that made you different. It wasn’t easy to explain the alterations that came with presenting, both mentally and physically, causing a silent divide to your peers.

“I think I’m gonna go for a walk.” You announced, tilting your head towards the walking trail ahead, dim lights illuminating it. They affirmed nonchalantly, going back to their art and discussing which boy the thought would present next.

Stray fireflies joined you on your journey, tightening your jacket around your frame as a stick broke under your sneakers. Spotting a garden snake slithering by in the bushes, you smiled at how it reminded you of Eddie and his infatuation with reptiles. He was the type of kid to read books about the scaly creatures, knowing which were poisonous or harmless.

While he had been your best friend for many years, the newfound deeper connection made you feel conjoined. It felt odd to be away from him for too long, wanting to hear every detail of his day, from what shaving cream he used to what song he listened to in the car.

The sharp pain targeted your lower abdomen again, wincing as your eyes screwed shut. Your breath quickened as the air seemed to grow warmer, a sweat breaking as you looked around, until you felt a dampness under your dress.

All senses were replaced with fear and need, sitting on an old tree stump with your legs pulled to your chest. Your heat had just come 2 weeks ago, convincing yourself this must be a false one, but all the symptoms were analogous to those.

“Hey there.” You heard a low voice, seeing a boy from your English class named Jackson, sauntering closer. “Did you get lost?”

You remained silent as you remembered he had just presented as an alpha, having missed the beginning of the month for it. As if on cue, the sound of leaves crunching brought two more new alpha’s, Luke and Noah.

Gulping, you stood up, toying with the bottom of your dress as your eyes turned glossy. The slick was pooling in your underwear at this point, knowing it couldn’t be long till it trickled down your leg, squeezing your thighs in a pointless attempt to gain control.

“Need some help, gorgeous?” Luke smirked, inhaling deeply as he managed to walk you back into the large oak tree, birds shuffling out from the bundles of leaves. Instincts kicked in as you bolted, hoping to find an easy exit with the boys hot on your tail, yelling.

Meanwhile, Eddie had been engrossed in a game of poker when he smelt it, the hairs on his arms standing straight up as he tried to shake it off. Figuring it had to be another student, he finished the round, huffing at his loss of a smuggled can of beer.

The girls you had joined to paint with were walking to the cafeteria table, setting them to dry as he approached, questioning where you were as he didn’t even spot an extra canvas.

“She went for a walk, some boys went after her a few minutes ago because it was getting dark.” Tasha quipped, lighting a dusty candle on the table, illuminating the glossy artwork.

His feet went quicker than his mind as he cursed to himself, heart plummeting at the fear you were alone, stopping at the payphone to tell Jeff to take his car and Gareth to drive his van over and head back in Jeff’s. The trail was bigger than he thought, leading to various points in the park, trying to depend on his inclinations.

Avoiding the designated trail, he chose the unruly woods within it as he tried to find a shortcut. As each footprint was ingrained in the dirt, his indignation for this trip and scenario further solidified.

His movement was stopped when he heard a sharp yelp, sprinting despite the restrictive denim on his legs and weight of his boots. Once back on the trail, he kept his eyes peeled in all directions with clenched fists. The scent was more poignant now, knowing it was you who it belonged to, making his fear grow alongside the anger.

The sound of struggle carried through the trees before he finally found you, a peer with his arms wrapped around your waist with restricted arms as the other two tried meaningless attempts to calm you.

“Hey!” Eddie shouted, stomping over with such feverishness that the boy's all looked towards him, feeling the grip around you tighten, “Put her down.”

“Or what? I think the lady needs help, finders keepers, freak.” Noah sneered, standing in front of the boy who held you, but his powerful stance didn’t last long as a punch landed on his right cheek.

Another set of hands grabbed the back of Eddie’s collar, but the pure protective fury burning made him quickly turn and punch the other one down too. He put his hands around the neck of the one holding you, the man beginning to yell.

While these boys could take a hit, they saw the blind rage in Eddie’s eyes, not wanting to discover what he was capable of. It was one of the only perks about being the town freak, you were infamous enough to be gossiped about, but outlandish enough to be whatever you needed to be in the moment.

“Try that shit again with her or any other girl and I will make you an early grave.” He gritted as they clutched their afflictions, “She is my fucking omega and if you even look in her direction, I will make your life a living hell.”

The boys looked bewildered as he turned around, wondering if he’d freak out again on them, but his focus was on you, rushing you away.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” He asked, seeing how your focus was on your direct eyesight before you, not wavering to any other location. The tremble in your hands as he grabbed it only increased the farther you got to the exit.

Wordlessly scooping you in his arms, you finally allowed yourself to cry, the saltiness traveling down your cheeks and to your lips. Everything became muffled as you descended into your own headspace, embracing Eddie’s aroma that felt more prevalent than ever.

Unbeknownst to you, Robin rushed towards you both as Eddie asked for her to grab your bag. Seeing the sternness on his features and your fragile state, she complied without witt, rushing to the cabins.

Grateful to have called the boys, the keys to his own van were set on his bunk as he raced in, glad to not see any classmates. Quickly grabbing his bag, he marched over to his prized possession, yanking open the door to put you down. Robin came running with your own things, tossing it into the back seat and mentioning how she’ll inform a teacher on where you went.

“You gotta let go, baby. I just need to walk to the other side.” He consoled, trying to ease your placement from his neck, “Good girl.”

He jogged over, your frame already condensed into a ball, laying on your side with a slant due to the seatbelt. Kicking the car on, he tried obeying as many laws as he could consider, but his main focus was getting you somewhere safe.

He gave you his nightshirt from his bag, letting you simulate a nest until returning to the trailer park. A calming hand stroked your back lovingly, hushing your sounds of discontentment.

The arrival didn’t register in your brain until you were being tossed on Eddie’s blue sheets, eyes opening wide to take in your surroundings for a brief moment until his lips were on yours.

The taste on his tongue would never lose its power on you, feeling like you were discovering the eighth wonder of the world every time it trailed against your skin, making you come to peace with the safety created by him in the world of just the two of you.

“You’re my girl, my omega, I’m never going to let anyone hurt you.” He whispered, kissing your blazing skin as he undid your clothes, undoing any barrier you had internally with his words.

While each heat was overwhelming, there were always moments that brought you into a version of purgatory, not feeling neutral or spacey, or grounded. An area within our galaxy where you both were the only inhabitants, aliens to the outside world, but making perfect sense within them.

The language you conversed in belonged to your bodies, unable to process the communication outside of those times, finding your bodies knew each other long before your meeting years ago. You wondered if this feeling was common with every mating pair, but as you looked into his doe-brown eyes, you knew there was no way a world could be so cruel if they felt like this at least once in their lifetime.

taglist plus friends/people i saw enjoyed my other work :) let me know if you'd like to not be tagged: @elizabethmidnight2017 @iheartyouyou @forksloree @fantastic-fantasy-fanfics @sillypurplemurple @prettyboyeddiemunson @andvys @funsonmunson-again @ceriseheaven @indouloureux @lilacletter @edsforehead @akiratoro420 @corkadymu

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