#stares at ocean idiots

[melodyofthevoid]

My Brain -Ask her the question.

Me -No it's a stupid question.

My Brain -DID I STUTTER.

So has any other mortal being ever see Mariza ,I mean like besides Delta (and her crew) has Mariza ever been seen or have a real interaction with a mortal stranger other than Delta?

And I do mean after her ascent.

I mean inevitably. We don't have anything specific planned out for one of these interactions but I think she'd have fun scaring the shit out of boats. Not like, sinking them or anything but putting the literal fear of god in their hearts.

[sttm99]

I like to think that Bakugo would like one of those bitchy girls that most people stayed away from.

"Oh her?" His friend would whisper about you as you stood before your locker, frowning as you looked at something on your phone. "Yeah, she's mean, really."

"She's rude, a bitch. Hates everyone."

What drives Bakugo is mainly the fact that he doesn't want to be 'everyone'. He's better. And because he knows what it feels like for people to stay away from you just because of what they've heard.

So he makes his move during one of the UA beach trips, when everyone's out on the sand, taking dips into the ocean. He's walking away from them, scanning the darkening sand in search of you.

He finds you near the far edge of the beach, where the place is darker, with less people, and he swears he sees a crab burrow into the sand.

But he doesn't mind much, walking over to you. You look back at him as he walks forward. You're sat on the sand, watching the waves, then Bakugo.

"What are you doing here?" You say swiftly, unfriendly as you stare him down.

He thinks you're so pretty, body clad in that cute two-piece, and your thighs stained with sand. It's hot, his eyes straining the darkness to see the grains glued to the back of your thighs.

"Last I checked, you don't own the fucking beach." He grumbles, sitting down a few meters away from you.

He succumbs to the urge to say more, to fill the silence, to keep you there with him.

"There's too loud." He says, motioning to where the others are yelling and laughing and dancing and swimming.

"What about the other side?" You raise a brow.

"Two many bitches swapping spit." He retorts, sitting with his legs straightened out, palms behind him to support his weight as he looks at you.

You chuckle at that, and you don't turn away from him, leaning on your hand, keeping your eyes on his.

Your eye contact is hot, he thinks.

"You're funny." You say, sighing softly as you turn back to the sea.

He huffs at that. He wasn't exactly trying to be funny, and he likes that. That he can make you laugh without trying. He thinks it makes you cuter.

He hopes it makes you think he's attractive.

"No one's here, you know." You turn to him, wriggling your brows mischievously.

His stomach tightens. "What?"

You snort. "Stop blushing, idiot. I'm not gonna make out with you." You're laughing. "Let's skinny dip."

And Bakugo's scowling at you for 1) making fun of him, and 2) that suggestion.

"It's fucking freezing." He scolds. "It's like 8 degrees here."

But you're already standing and grinning. "Aren't you a hero? This is endurance shit." You say, like you're challenging him.

And he's grumbling and huffing, but he's standing and running after you as you're sprinting to the water, untying your bikini. Your top goes flying in the wind as you hit the water, and he swiftly catches it before it disappears.

"Fucking idiot," he's yelling after you, pausing momentarily to drag his shorts down. He's trying to hit the water quickly before you catch sight of his dick. "You're gonna walk back fucking naked!"

"Aww, you're so little." You coo at him, laughing.

"Cause it's 8 fucking degrees!"

You were joking anyways. He's big, even in the cold. But you try not to think of that, not when he's so clearly cold, shivering as you beckon him closer.

"Come over here," you say.

"That's too fucking far. There's crabs. You come here."

You shake your head with a sly grin. "The water level here hides my breasts. So you have to come here."

He scowls at your logic, and you stick your tongue out at him.

"My dicks gonna freeze." But he's waddling in the dark water, making his way to you.

You're silent as he nears, taking in how he towers over you, how his body drowns yours, height wise and chest wise.

.

.

.

"What are you looking at?" His voice is raspy from the cold.

You smile coyly up at him.

His heart stops.

"You."

"Dude, where'd you disappear to?" Kirishima calls to Bakugo as he trudges into the room they are sharing.

But Bakugo's silent, repeating a series of numbers in his mind. He instantly goes over to his drawers, grabbing his phone and instantly punching it in, saving your contact in his phone.

"Dude, is that a fucking hickey?" He shrugs Kirishima off him, making his way to the showers, itching to get in and wash off all the sand from his body.

"I'm never fucking banging in the sand again."

[tropes-and-tales]

Good Girl

Day 2:  Dry humping (Bob Floyd x F!Reader)

(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!) 

CW:  Idiots in love; praise kink; smut (dry humping; outercourse; whatever the youths call it now - clothed grinding and such); 18+ only.

Word Count:  2996

AN:  This is loosely related to the very loosely-formed Seresin cousin mini-series, found here. It was requested for Kinktober by @justreblogginfics!)

You and Bob continue your little dance for months.

You know the man likes you.  Every time you fly into town to visit your cousin Jake, Bob is always nearby, staring at you on the sly like a lovesick puppy.  He’s always just at the edge of the group gatherings—nights at the Hard Deck, parties at Nat’s house, afternoons at the beach—and you always feel those big blue eyes tracking your movements.

Everyone else notices it.  Harvard and Yale corner you at the Hard Deck, ask if you’ve noticed that you have an admirer.  Nat pulls you aside at her barbeque and obliquely gives you a rundown of Bob’s numerous good traits.  Only Jake holds his tongue, but you catch him narrowing his eyes at the WSO enough that you realize even your cousin—your cousin with his penchant for being self-centered, the handsome narcissist with the blinding smile—has noticed Bob’s crush too.

Bob never makes a move.

Nights at the Hard Deck when you blatantly lament being single.  The party at Bob’s house where you stayed behind to help him clean up.  The little touches you chance:  brushing your hand against his, a light hand on his shoulder, friendly hugs…they are an invitation, but he doesn’t pick up on it.

It’s Rooster who clues you in.  The man takes your hand one night at the bar and tugs you outside where the ocean crashes along the shore in the darkness.  In the dim light, you can just make out the man as he peers down at you.

“I know what you’re doing,” he says.  “But you’re going about it all wrong.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

You catch the white of his eyes as he rolls them.  “C’mon.  It’s obvious you like Bob, but you gotta make the move if you’re interested.  You gotta be blatant with him.  He won’t get it otherwise.”

“Why not?”  Your stomach twists unpleasantly; you wonder if perhaps you’ve misread the situation.  Maybe Bob has a crush, but maybe it’s just a crush, and maybe there’s someone else he loves and this is just a passing bit of madness—

“Guy’s a brilliant wizzo, but he’s clueless with women.”

Now you roll your eyes at Rooster, and he chuckles at the gesture.  

“I’m serious!” he continues, and he holds his hands up, helpless.  “I think he misread a situation once with a girl when he was younger, and I think it scared him off of making the first move.”

“That’s a terrible excuse.  I got food poisoning from bad tacos once but I still eat tacos.”

Rooster chuckles again.  “Yeah, but you women can be devastating when you reject us.  I think poor Baby on Board was crushed before and now he’s just a pining little asshole, staring at you from across the bar.”  

You shrug helplessly and glance back into the Hard Deck:  you can see Bob in profile, and you get the impression that he’s just turned away, that he didn’t want to get caught watching you.  Watching you and Rooster together, chatting outside, laughing outside.  You feel a wave of sympathy for what Bob must be thinking—that you’re flirting with Rooster, that maybe Bob has missed his chance.

You turn back to the pilot.  You square your shoulders.  “Okay, I hear you.  I’ll be the brave one.”  A beat as anxiety blooms in your chest, makes your ribcage feel a fraction tighter, makes it just a bit harder to draw a full breath.  “And you’re sure he likes me?  You aren’t misreading this somehow?  I don’t want to look like an idiot, Bradshaw.”

He laughs outright, and he hooks an arm around your neck to pull you into a friendly hug.  

“Ah, kid, he loves you.  You make the first move, he’ll probably go ring shopping next weekend,” he says, and he lays a smacking kiss on the side of your head before releasing you, shoving you gently back towards the bar.

-----

You may be confident, but that confidence doesn’t always extend into your romantic life.  Still, you decide to be brave.

You make the first move.

When you go back into the Hard Deck, you notice that Bob seems quieter than usual, and you guess that he saw the hug, the friendly kiss between you and Rooster.  You guess that he is drawing incorrect conclusions about what he thinks he saw, and you hate to think of him suffering needlessly.

You sidle up to him, and you feel another wave of tenderness towards the man when he turns to look at you—still with that soft smile on his face, a glimmer of hope in his eyes despite what he must be thinking.

“It’s too noisy in here,” you say close to his ear.  “I was going to take a walk on the beach.  Do you want to join me?”

The hope in his eyes turns blatant.  “Really?”

“Yeah.  You wanna go?  C’mon.”  You don’t give him a chance to stammer his way out of it; you thread your arm through his and tug him towards the door, and he follows you without any resistance. 

You catch Rooster’s eye, then Nat’s as you leave.  The former tips you a knowing wink.  The latter gives you a nod, and she lifts her glass in a salute.

You don’t release him until you’re at the water’s edge, and you bend down to untie your sneakers and peel out of your socks.  He hesitates a beat then joins you, and he rolls up the pants to his uniform so that his shins are bare.

The two of you walk along the shore in silence for a bit.  It’s one of the things you like best about Bob—how he lacks the braggadocio to always talk, to always fill up every bit of silence with the sound of his own voice.  You know he’s perhaps more shy than the average person, but he doesn’t seem undone by it.  He seems comfortable just to be himself:  quieter than most, willing to sit back and watch.  

Case in point:  you hold your shoes and socks in one hand, and you take his hand with your free one.  Maybe he’s nervous, but his palm is warm and dry, not sweaty or twitchy.  If he’s nervous, it’s not obvious.

And he breaks the silence, after a while.

“Growing up in the Midwest, I never even saw the ocean until I enlisted,” he says.  

“Same,” you reply.  “I mean, growing up in Texas, we went to Galveston a few times, but that was technically the Gulf, not the ocean.”

“You like it?”

You feel the water lapping around your ankles, the give of the sand underneath your soles.  “I do,” you admit.  “There’s something really peaceful about it, and I love poking around at low tide and looking for sea glass.”

He glances at you, and you can hear the teasing in his voice when he replies, “I’m gonna tell Hangman that his cousin only visits him because he’s stationed along the coast.”

The words slip out of your mouth before you even realize you’re saying them.  “Maybe I only visit Jake because I like one of his coworkers.”

The light-hearted feeling of the moment deflates; Bob goes silent.  He takes a beat to reply, and when he does, his voice sounds strained.

“Bradley.”  It comes out curt, two quick syllables.  A statement, not a question.

You shake your head, let out a grumble of disagreement.  Up ahead, you can see the outline of a lifeguard station, painted white and rising ghostly out of the night.  You want to sit with him and finally talk with him, so you tug his hand and lead him there.  The two of you sit on the steps, side by side, hips touching and facing the ocean.

“Not Bradley,” you tell him as you pick up the thread of the conversation.  

“I saw you tonight—”

You shake your head again, cut him off.  “He wanted to talk to me,” you tell Bob.  “About you.”

You feel him go rigid beside you, and he huffs out a frustrated breath.  If there was more light, you’d see the furious blush that breaks out across his face, but it’s dark enough that you can only guess at his embarrassment.

And now that you’ve opened the Pandora’s box, you can hardly take it back, so you plunge forward.  Usually confident, you’re glad for the darkness too—you hope it hides your shaky hands, your inability to turn and meet his eyeline.

“I think you’re great, Bobby.  Honestly.  I thought you were handsome the moment I met you, but then I got to know you, and you’re quiet but you’re funny and sweet, and I was giving all these signs that I was into you, but nothing…I mean, I like you a lot and it’s just…”  You trail off, lose your words like an idiot.  You hadn’t enough time to rehearse this in your head; you just grabbed him at the Hard Deck and dragged him out here, and now you’re fumbling it completely.  You drop your head and swipe your sweaty palms along the sides of your shorts, and you take a deep breath—

You hear his soft “hey,” and then a split second later you feel his warm hand on your face, tilting your head up and turning you to face him, but nothing on earth could prepare you for the way Bob Floyd kisses:  gentle but firm, only a bit hesitant.  His lips are soft, and he breathes out a quiet groan when you reach up and lay your own hand along the side of his neck.

Your thoughts go fuzzy.  Your concentration—all the words you were fumbling to say—is shot, but when you try to break the kiss to finish what you were saying, Bob shakes his head faintly and mumbles against you lips.

“I know,” he says, and you can hear his accent breaking through.  “I know, honey.  Me too.”

Then he kisses you again, firmer this time, and a moment later, when he runs the tip of his tongue along the seam of your mouth, you open yourself to him, allow him to taste you.  You taste him too, and Bob Floyd tastes like the grenadine-laced Coke he nurses each night at the Hard Deck, never much of a drinker even on the rowdiest night.

If nothing could prepare you for the way he kisses, then certainly nothing could prepare you for how sweetly dominant he is, how perfectly he walks the line between gentlemanly and not.  Your clumsy confession must have given him the wherewithal to take charge, and you’re surprised when he puts a hand on your waist and gently urges you to turn towards him…then how he just as gently urges you to climb onto his lap.

It doesn’t take much urging, you find.  You’ve been ravenous for months for this exact moment, and you had thought it’d never come.  You break away long enough to study his face—this close, and with the faint light of the half-moon in the sky above you, you can see his wide blue eyes, his parted lips as he gazes back at you.  You don’t see any hesitancy in his expression at all, but then he breathes out, “please, honey” and he squeezes your waist, so you clamber onto him with no grace whatsoever, but neither of you care because the moment you’re settled on him, you bend your head to kiss him again.

As it turns out, maybe Bob was just as ravenous for this moment too.  He puts his other hand on your waist too, draws you closer to him, and you can feel the nudge and brush of his growing erection against your inner thigh.  He makes a strangled, pained sort of groan in the back of his throat the first time you touch him there, and his hands spasm on your waist, grip you tighter before he schools himself and apologizes.

You break the kiss, slow the moment down.  You cup his face between your palms and hold him steady, tilt his face up towards yours.

“Bobby, why didn’t you ever say anything?” you whisper.  

He shakes his head against your hold and offers you a rueful grin.  “Didn’t think you were interested.”

You snort and press a light kiss to his forehead, then another few to his cheeks, the tip of his nose.  You can feel how flushed he is under your lips.  

“You think I just randomly hang back at parties to help the host clean up?” you tease.  You shift your head, whisper the words in his ear, and you note how he squirms under you.  He’s growing harder, even at your playful kisses.

“Just thought…ah, just thought y-you were bein’ nice.”  His accent comes out stronger, and his hands squeeze you tighter again before he loosens his grip.  “You’re always so…so nice to everyone.”

“I’m nicest to you,” you point out.  You kiss a trail along the line of his neck, and he tilts his head to grant you the space.  At his pulse point, you can feel his heartbeat thundering away there, so you bare your teeth and nip him—not enough to hurt or even sting, but he groans out “shit, honey” and wraps a strong arm around your waist, hauls you right up against where he’s straining against his uniform for you.  His other hand finds the back of your neck, and he draws you to him, kisses you breathless as he guides you against him, sets a steady, rocking motion against him.

It's too much:  the way his clothed erection hits you just right, how he pushes you back and forth, over and over, until you are so wet that you’re certain you’ve soaked through your panties and your shorts.  Everything feels sensitive, swollen, but he keeps guiding you, lifts his own hips in time to the rhythm he sets.  It’s too much but it’s not nearly enough, and you wish you’d known how this entire evening was going to unravel because you would have just taken him home instead—

“This good?” he asks.  His face is tucked against your neck; you’re a fraction higher than him, perched in his lap, and he works his mouth almost lazily against your neck, your throat, the underside of your jaw.  He has one arm around your waist, holding you tight to him, but his other hand settles against your ass, kneads you there, digs his fingertips into the fat of your ass like he wants to own you.

You start to make a joke about being surprised to find he’s an ass man, but then he dips his head, works an open-mouthed kiss right where the swell of your breasts begin.  You whine at the sensation and thread your fingers through his hair.  You hold him there, and the desire coursing through you—the sharp ache between your thighs, the prickly-hot flush across your skin—makes you feel fuzzy, light-headed.  You remember he asked you a question, so you answer him, nod hard and mumble yes, he’s making you feel good, he’s making you feel amazing, but what about him?

“Don’t worry about me.”  He nips at your collarbone, runs his tongue along the line of it, dips his tongue into the divot at the base of your throat.  “Wanna make you come, honey.”

Hearing those words come from his mouth makes your desire rachet up higher, hotter.  You grip his hair harder, whine out his name, but then he adds, “you gonna be my good girl and come for me?”

There’s no way he could have known of your praise kink, so it’s just a lucky guess, but the unexpected phrase—my good girl…fuck if it doesn’t make you cock-drunk and stupid.  No other guy really ever cracked the code of that kink for you.  A few had made half-hearted attempts when you mentioned it, but Bob Floyd stumbles over it immediately, and your mind goes blissfully blank:  yes, you want to be his good girl.  Yes, you want to come for him.  Whatever he wants.  Anything he wants.  Everything he wants.

You let go of your hold on his hair, and you cup his face again, tilt his head up so you can kiss him.  “Yes,” you whisper just before you slot your mouth over his, push your tongue against his, kiss him so deeply that you’re sharing the same breath, mapping the inside of his mouth with your tongue, memorizing every bit of him you can.  Yes, yes.  Yes to all of it.

Mind blank, your pleasure overtakes you:  you feel the heat and friction from where he sets you grinding against him, you feel the bulge of his cock hitting you perfectly, and every bit of him—his subtle cologne, the soft feel of his hair, the quiet little groans he makes, the flex of his muscles as he holds you—pushes you close to the edge.  You teeter there, you ride him faster, the seam of your shorts pressing deliciously against your swollen clit, but it’s his words that push you over.  His quietly domineering orders.

“Come for me,” he whispers, and it’s a harsh, punched-out sound that makes your stomach swoop when you hear it.  “My good, sweet girl.  Come for me.”

Your orgasm breaks around you like a wave, and Bob releases his hold on your ass to draw you closer to him, let you ride it out as you shudder against him.  Both arms wrapped around your waist as pleasure sparks outward from your core, travels up your spine and courses through your limbs until your head is swimming and he’s tucking you against him.

“That’s it,” he whispers into your hair.  “Good girl.  So fucking good for me.”

And all you can respond with is yes, yes.  Only for you, Bobby.

[i-dont-know-how-this-site-works]

Echo checks his comm after a long day of fighting the empire, part 27032024

(4)Message from: Hunter

"I think Crosshair is finally making friends."

"That's good, right?"

"I don't like his new friend. It's probably better if you don't know who that is."

"Also, do you think I am overprotective sometimes?"

(6)Message from: Wrecker

"lmao hunter is so overprotective, u gotta come bac cause he is losing it again"

"And Crosshair made a friend today! he is so grumpy about it tho"

"u know, the fisherwoman that took mega out on a trip 1 time"

"oh, btw, someone came bac with the intel we told u bout, but dont worry bout it"

"question"

"what would u do if u had a little jedi kid"

(3)Message from: Crosshair

"I did not make any friends."

"I hate having friends."

"And you just wait till you hear who these two idiots brought here"

(8)Message from: <3 my best girl <3

"Echooo! Do you know Ventress?"

"she came by and made me stand on slippery rocks and we went out on a boat to summon fish and stuff"

<3 my best girl <3 sent a photo: *Omega smiling into the camera, Assajj grumpily stares into the ocean in the background*

"Hunter told me she was a war criminal, but she was nice to me"

"she saved me from a huge sea monster that we accidentally summoned"

"oh, and she tried to kill Hunter and Wrecker, but she didn't and she left us alone in the end"

"I hope they told you she was here"

"And Crosshair made two friends today! You know, he helped Lyana's cousin and he was nice to Assajj one time, so I think it counts as friendship when it comes to him."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

(4568) Missed calls from: Tech

(99+) Messages from: Tech

"Dear Echo,

If you finally get to check your spam folder, please tell them to stop touching my stuff. I saw someone logged into my data pad today. This is unacceptable.

Kind regards,

Tech, CT-9902"

[rafesfavgirl]

the palm of your freezing hand — r. cameron

part 1. part 2. this could technically be part 2 or 3, depending on how much of this little series you've read (or if you’re not into reading smut). either way, thank you for coming along for the ride. i hope you like it :)

❝ oh, goddamn my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand ❞

pairing: friend!rafe x pogue!reader

context: it's been three weeks since you found out jj cheated on you, and a week since you hooked up with rafe.

words: 1.4k+

warnings: fwb situationship, mean!jj (just for the sake of the story, we all know he’s BABY), bitchy!kie (again, just for the story—i adore her), jealous!jj, slut shaming, a little bit of angst, a little bit of blood and violence, fluff. rafe being a menace too, lowkey

you sat on a log at a party in the boneyard—one that you let john b and pope convince you to go to (you felt bad for icing them out for almost three weeks now when they weren't the ones who screwed you over)—staring out towards the ocean in a red bikini top and a pair of jean shorts, sipping on some beer that john b had brought over to you in a red cup.

he was now occupied talking to some blonde touron, sitting up in a tree, while pope talked to some other girl by the keg, and jj and kie chilled with a few other pogues, his arm slung around her shoulder.

so much for claiming to love you—he was just on his knees begging you to forgive him last week. and now, he was here with your best friend—former best friend, anyway. the two of them really had no shame.

pulling your phone out of your pocket, you begin to text rafe.

you: please tell me you're on your way.

rafe: miss me already?

you roll your eyes at his response. last weekend, after your break up with jj, you made the somewhat idiotic decision to hook up with rafe at a kook party on figure eight. you're still not exactly sure how it happened, but the sex was good, so you've kinda formed a sort of friendship with him in a way—with benefits, of course.

the three dots appear again, signaling that he was typing something else, and you wait for the message to come through.

rafe: turn around.

you furrow your brow at the text, but do as you're told and turn around, only to find a smiling rafe standing over you—dressed in a ralph lauren, short-sleeve, white collared shirt and a pair of khaki shorts.

"hey pretty girl," he greets you as you stand.

little did you know, jj was watching from afar, his eyes focused on the way you throw your arms around rafe's neck in a hug, while his hands trailed around your waist to press your body against him.

"what the fuck?" jj mutters beside kie, who snaps her head towards him.

"what's up?" she asked.

"what is he doing here?" jj felt heat rise in his chest, his eyes narrowing at you and rafe.

kie furrowed her brows at him in confusion before following his line of sight to you and rafe a good distance away, you playfully pushing against his chest with a giggle.

"shit," kie says. "i didn't see that coming."

"yeah that makes two of us," jj slams his empty cup down on the ground and stands up without another word, beelining straight for you and rafe.

"so this is why you wanted to break up," you hear jj's familiar voice fill your ears, but it wasn't sweet and sarcastic as usual—it was bitter.

you shift your eyes towards him, causing rafe to turn too, to see what or who had just pulled your attention from him.

"excuse me?" you asked.

"rafe cameron, y/n?" he snarled. "seriously? i thought you knew better than that."

"clearly i don't, considering i trusted you," you spat, causing a scowl to fall over his sharp features. "and by the way, we didn't break up because i wanted to be with rafe. we broke up because you cheated on me."

that makes rafe snap his head towards you—he knew that your relationship didn’t end on good terms, but you never really told him why. "he cheated on you?" 

"with kiara."

a scoff mixed with a snicker leaves rafe's mouth as he looks at jj. "you're an even bigger idiot than i thought."

"look, shut the fuck up, man, a'ight?" jj motions a hand at him. "this isn't about you. this is about you." he turns to you again. "you're really slutting yourself up for this asshole?"

"better than slutting myself up for a cheater," you retort. "and in case you haven't noticed jj, we're broken up. what's it to you if i'm hooking up with someone else?"

"and she is, by the way," rafe throws jj a wink and smirk. "you really fucked up. i mean, really fucked up. the way she feels bro? i don’t know how you coul—"

"shut up, man," jj was getting riled up now, a hand coming up to push rafe back, a deep chuckle falling from rafe's lips as he used both his hands to push jj back.

that's enough to push your ex-boyfriend to the edge as he comes at rafe, causing him to trip over a skinny log as both of them tumble onto the sand. the noise from the tussling only pulls attention from everyone else, john b and pope immediately running over to break the two hot-headed blonds apart.

you really had a type, huh?

"what did you do?" kie comes up beside you, along with a few pogues, kooks, and tourons—who had now formed a makeshift half-circle around the scene.

you look at her, more pissed off at her accusation than rafe and jj fighting. "what makes you think i did anything?"

"you usually always do," she says.

you cross your arms and scoff. "you're one to talk."

"and what's that suppose to mean?"

"it means you were supposed to be my best friend, kiara," you tell her. “and not only did you screw our friendship over, but you did it by fucking my boyfriend. no wonder sarah cameron dropped your ass.”

she purses her lips at you, upset by your mentioning of sarah’s name. “don’t act as if this is just all on me,” she argued. “you were the one who weaseled your way in, and stole him from me.”

“stole him?” you asked, taken aback. she was the one who set you up with him in the first place. “you’ve clearly reached different levels of delusional.”

“you think i'm delusional?" she spat, crossing her arms. "you're hooking up with rafe cameron. do you really think you'll get him to fall for a pogue like you?"

before you could even answer, rafe separates the two of you, bumping into you both as jj pushes him back, and you reach out to steady him.

"you think i'm scared of you, man?" jj shouts at him, john b holding him back.

rafe chuckles and wipes at the little bit of blood beside his now busted lip with his thumb. "i think you should be."

"get your fucking boyfriend, y/n!" jj yells, his eyes shifting from rafe to you.

"you got it," you nod at him with a smile, just to piss him off more—rafe wasn't your boyfriend, but he didn't have to know that. "you wanna get out of here?" you tilt your head up at rafe, who turns his head towards you and smiles. 

"lead the way, doll."

you do as he says, giving kie a small smirk as you walk past her and the makeshift crowd that had formed, everyone's eyes on the two of you.

"so… your boyfriend, huh?" rafe swings an arm around you and squeezes you to his side.

"chill, cameron," you laugh, pushing him away from you playfully. "i only said that to piss him off."

"so i'm just a toy to you then, is that what this is?" he asked, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips as you both stop by his truck.

"that depends…" you trail off and turn to face him, your back resting against the passenger door of his truck. "am i just a toy to you?"

"i'm not sure yet," he shrugs, honestly. "i wouldn't have just taken a bloody lip and sand stains on my polo for anyone though."

you giggle and bring your thumb up to swipe at the beige-colored stain on his white shirt. "yeah, sorry 'bout that."

"no worries," he shakes his head, his eyes locking with yours. "i can think of one or two ways you could make it up to me."

"oh, is that so?" you kink a brow at him. "because i can tell you right now i don't have a hundred dollars to spare for a brand new ralph lauren polo shirt."

he leans a hand against his truck, beside your head, and closes the distance between you. "and who said that's what i wanted?"

you tilt your head to the side, an amused smile on your face. "then what did you have in mind?"

"let me take you out on date," he says. "a real one."

part 4.

writing rafe being soft for the reader is literally my favorite thing ever.

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

click here to be added to my tag list!!

tags: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @immyowndefender @chiaraanatra

[earthtooz]

in which: you need to make it to liyue harbour in time so you can give kazuha a piece of your mind and a response to his love letter.

cw: fluff, 1.3k words, not too sure how canon accurate this is, potentially ooc-kazuha, gn!reader from inazuma, confessions, two wholesome idiots in love

a/n: for my little sibling @sixosix, i hope you enjoy

Liyue, out of all regions in Teyvat, is the hardest to run through.

It’s mountainous, your muscles will ache from going uphill, your ankles will be sore the next day from going too fast downhill. It’s grassy, the gravel is rough against the soles of your feet, and there is an abundance of hillichurls and samachurls waiting for you with their clubs and shields. Yet, they provide more motivation for you to outrun them, speeding right by their camps to get to Liyue Harbour in time.

Stupid Kaedehara Kazuha, when you see him, he’s in for an earful from you. Making you run from Lingju Pass all the way back to the Harbour, doesn’t he know how much you despise running for long periods of time?

A break is not plausible, especially when Beidou’s boat could leave the dock at any minute now.

When Liyue’s bustling harbour is in sight, it’s vast oceans appearing out the horizon, you feel like you can breathe. The sunlight glimmering on the ocean cheers you on, and you won’t stop until the waves are underneath your feet, the only thing separating you from them being wooden planks. 

You push through crowds, too tired and determined to be polite and apologetic to shoppers you push aside. You run past Mingxing Jewelry, Wanmin Restaurant, and Master Zhang’s workshop, and don’t stop until you, yourself, are climbing onto the Crux. Crew members are shouting in protest at your sudden appearance, yelling at your unexplained entrance.

There are people trying to pull you off the boat, and you don’t really know where the strength to push off burly sailors came from, but you successfully fend off all of them, and find Beidou at the bow of the ship. 

“Where is Kazuha?” You demand, decorum be screwed, nothing can stop your momentum now. 

Her uncovered eye lights up in amusement, a hint of knowing behind her crimson gaze. “Right behind you.” 

Lo and behold, the beige-haired in question was right behind you. “Uh, hello?”

“I have a bone to pick with you, Kazuha!” Stomping over to him, he grabs your wrist before you have another chance to talk, dragging you away from the bow of the ship where all the crewmates were unloading their cargo. (Beidou’s thundering laughter can be heard as he’s dragging you away, at least she’s not mad at your sudden intrusion.)

He stops when the two of you are on the quarter deck and turns to look at you with panic all over his face.

“What did I do?” 

From your pocket, you pull out a piece of paper like it’s an incriminating piece of evidence, one that he’s stared at for too long, so much so that he can recall every dip and curve of the dry-pressed leaves he added on for a more personal touch. It has sat on his desk for ages, seen all of his turmoils and frustrations over delivering it to you. 

The paper contains a mix of poems, haikus, and different confessions Kazuha has been harbouring in his heart for the past few years, ever since the two of you left Inazuma. Your hand clutching his gloved one as the two of you hurry onto Beidou’s boat with nothing but your visions, weapons, and the clothes on your back.

He has loved you for this entire journey, and words could not surmise the depth of his feelings, let alone a measly piece of paper. Some days, it sees the sun when he dares it to, but it always ends up right back on his desk, waiting for the day that it will leave Kazuha’s possession and fall into yours.

This morning was the exact moment. He slipped it in your bag before you went on your expedition, the two of you meeting for a quiet breakfast before his eight-month long expedition, and your two-week one. He had waved you goodbye as far as he could go before leaving Liyue Harbour, even staying on the outskirts until your group left his sight.

Nothing could have prepared him for seeing you so soon, not after putting that letter in your backpack. 

“You’re a coward!” You accuse immediately, poking your finger to his chest. “A lousy coward!”

He takes it, knows that he should have just braved his fears and handed it to you in person, but the idea of being rejected on the spot causes his chest to ache in unbearable ways. The samurai rather you read it, then have eight months to prepare for your inevitable rejection.

Yet, he should have known that in the face of a storm, you are the only one brave enough to fight against the waves. Nothing ever goes the way he wants when it’s with you.

“You should probably sit down, Y/n, your legs are shaking and I’ll grab you some-”

Your hands fly up to grab the sleeves of his kimono, whether to stabilise yourself, or to stop him from leaving, or both, he stays. “Kaedehara Kazuha, I like you too,” you declare. “I just ran all the way from Lingju Pass, so I have nothing flowery nor sweet to say like your letter except that you are so very mean for making me come all this way.”

With one last heaved breath, you collapse to your knees. Kazuha, being the gentleman he is, freaks out and mimics your actions, clinging onto your shoulders.

“Y/n!” He calls out, his usually level voice breaching a panicked cry. “You shouldn’t be exerting yourself like this. Stay here, I’ll go grab water water.” 

Listening to the samurai, you rest against a nearby pillar, feeling the dull aches in all muscles of your legs. Archons, you’ll feel the pain tenfold tomorrow.

Kazuha returns not too long with a canteen in hand, and he twists it open before handing it to you. After a few beats of tense silence, he speaks up. 

“Honestly, I don’t really have anything to say either, I wasn’t expecting to see you for another eight months, and even then, I was expecting a rejection.” He admits sheepishly, a blush blooming along his cheeks. “Maybe an apology for making you run all this way just to see me is my first course of action.”

“Accept my confession first, jerk,” you punch his shoulder lightly, smiling up at him.

“I’ll accept anything so long as it’s from you, I thought I made that clear in my letter.”

“Don’t think you can charm your way into my good graces!” 

He thinks it’s adorable that you’re trying to maintain your cool mask despite your inability to look him in the eye, even if he’s hardly faring much better. The usual lyricism of his words have faded, and his quick mind can’t think of anything poetic to say, as if your confession has intercepted all the functions of his brain.

You like him back, you like him back, you like him back, and he doesn’t know what to do with that information except smile like an idiot.

“Are you still going on your expedition?” asks Kazuha. “Your group must be waiting for you.”

“I told them not to, dumped my rations and things with them and told them they could use it. I’m not running all the way back now.”

“Then, does that mean you can join us?” 

“I don’t want to intrude, and I don’t know if you have enough things on board for another-”

“-I’m sure Beidou and the crew wouldn’t mind. There are always extra rations, you can have some of mine if it gets to it, and our first stop is at sunset, so we could go and grab some clothes for you to bring along!” He quickly suggests, hope shining brightly in those crimson eyes of his, as if pleading for you to say yes.

The wind blows gently through his beige strands, and the moment feels enchantingly similar to one you had read in an Inazuman poem. Then again, Kazuha always had that effect; the ability to slow time and let you see the world through a different, prettier lens, even if the consequences were completely dire.

You want to continue seeing through his lens, exactly the way you did when both of you fled Inazuma and the Vision hunt Decree. And you want to see the rest of Teyvat the way he does. 

“Okay.” You agree, “I’ll come along.”

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[angelfoxx]

I just know Keegan looks so god damn hot in his casual clothing, going to bed in loose grey boxers and an old band shirt that rides up his stomach when he lies down, AND GOOD GOD his happy traillll😫I feel like he’s one of those guys with really bushy happy trails, doesn’t even know how sexy you find it. He’s lying in bed, one of his big arms around your shoulders while reading an old book. Raises an eyebrow when your hand starts wandering up his thigh, fingertips dipping under the waistband of his boxers..

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° ❝ NEED SOMETHING? ❞

…in which keegan entertains your perversions.

FEATURING: keegan p russ.

WARNINGS: keegan being a sexy motherfucker. also me giving him a tatted sleeve because it’s sexy and who the hell is gonna tell me no. also me drooling over his happy trail bc HAPPY TRAILS HAPPY TRAILS LOOOOOOOORD

NOTE/S: oh my god

It’s not your fault, really. Feeling like this. It’s not your fault.

It’s his.

He’s not ignoring you. His arm, slung up on your shoulders, is just a heavy, toned reminder that he’s with you. His attention is just elsewhere.

You aren’t totally sure what book he’s reading. Probably something of Stephen King’s. Last week, it had been Christine. The week prior, It. You hadn’t bothered checking; if it was a low-stress week, he’d tell you all about it once he finished it, true book-critic style. In any case, he’s got the thing casually in his lap, spread open by a splayed hand. He’s got a simple silver band on his middle finger, gnarled and twisted like barbed wire — every now and then, he taps it, just an occasional beat of sound as if to remind you that he’s right there.

You’re ogling his hand, now. He doesn’t seem to notice.

Your eyes travel upward. He’s got a pretty sleeve of black-and-white tattoos; churning ocean waves, storm-battered whitecaps, tossing ships. He’d explained it the first time you’d seen it; something about how he found peace in the chaos of an ocean storm. Just standing in a place where there was no resistance that he could give. Surrendering to the fury of nature. Something like that. It’s…um, attractive. Yeah. You swallow and resist the sudden urge to squeeze your legs together.

The top of that sleeve — thick, billowing clouds — vanishes under the edge of his tee. Charcoal-gray, emblazoned with the title of an old rock band that you’d never really heard of prior to meeting him. He’s still wearing his dog-tag, hanging on a silver chain around his neck and rising on his chest every time he breathes.

Christ, you should stop staring.

His shirt’s ridden up on his stomach, and god, you really shouldn’t look because then you won’t be able to look away. But you do look, because what are you if not a swooning idiot for the sniper sitting beside you?

Every time he breathes, his stomach sinks in and you can see the outline of his abs. God. Fucking Christ. You can see the outline of his abs but not really the middle, because along the middle he’s proudly sporting a long line of short black curls.

You’re basically salivating.

He’s just got some loose gray boxers on, sitting dangerously low on his hips. He’s left the v-line of his hips exposed; your senses are on high alert, eyes catching on every little mole spotting his waist, every little white scar, the edge of the paw-print tattoos he has just below his stomach (it’s where Riley’s front feet go when the dog stands up on his hind legs, tail wagging and tongue lolling), and it’s such a cute little tattoo but your thoughts are anything but and—

“Don’t forget to blink.”

You flinch like you’ve been shot. Your mind goes blank, and your gaze shoots upward.

Tiny smirk caught in the corner of his mouth, Keegan looks down at you with lidded, quietly humored eyes. They seem brilliantly blue, moreso than usual — though maybe that’s just the lighting in here. His hair’s a mess; short and still damp from his earlier shower, undercut scrubbing against your arm as he turns his head, just a little, one eyebrow raised. There’s a little scar through his left one; the hair splits unevenly there. You’ve told him several times that you find it sexy.

He agrees.

“What?” Your mouth feels like it’s filled with a fat wad of cotton. You feel like your thoughts are visible in your eyes.

“Don’t play stupid.” His response is honey-smooth. “I’m not dumb.”

“I didn’t say y…you were.” You swallow. “I’m just sitting here.”

“Mm.” Keegan narrows his eyes. “Mhm.”

And then he goes back to that book.

It’s kind of ridiculous, how hard you stare at his hand holding that book open. It’s almost pathetic, actually. You’re sure he’d say the same if he knew exactly what thoughts were running through your head right now. Pinkie finger on one page, index on the other, middle and ring both resting so lightly along the inseam of the spine.

Christ.

Trying to shake yourself out of your own head, you turn yourself inwards. Keegan needs no words; his arm tightens around you, hand sliding down to your hip and tugging it over so that you’re fully facing his side, head resting against his chest and body slung down along his leg. It’s comfortable like this; it goes without saying that he’s built like a motherfucker and so his pec is a comfortable resting-place for your head. He’s warm, too, deliciously so; his body heat seeps up through his tee, prickling against your skin. He’s comfy, so comfy; on other nights, you’d fallen asleep like this, cuddled up to his side with one of his arms wrapped around you. Those nights were sweet; when time started to slow and all of your senses started to bleed together, you always heard him call your name, so quiet you wouldn’t catch it if you were awake. When you didn’t answer, he’d laugh — and then you’d hear the rustle of sheets as he stooped over and pressed a little kiss to the top of your head.

You weren’t totally sure if he knew that you knew he did that.

Tonight, though, you can’t do that. You can’t fathom it, because your hand is just itching to move. It’s just casually resting against his thigh — god, his fucking thighs, hard and thick and oh, you have to stop ogling him. You have to stop thinking about how that muscle feels, flexing so slightly under your hand as it moves up.

Moves up?

Oh.

Oops.

Keegan doesn’t say anything when your hand cups the warm spot between his legs. He lets out a short breath — it almost sounds like a laugh. There’s a curve taking shape on his lips, and his eyes glint with humor as he shifts, purposefully pushing his pelvis so slightly up into your palm.

The weight of his dick pushes between your fingers and your legs instinctively snap together. Above you, Keegan’s breath cracks into a nearly-silent laugh.

He’s onto you.

You bite your lip, risking a glance up at him as you do. He isn’t looking at you; he’s still reading, hawkish blue eyes scanning from left to right, over and over again. The hand on your hip lightly squeezes a handful of your thigh.

His hips roll so slightly up again. He’s daring you to continue.

Cocky sonofabitch. You swallow as you move your hand up, up, over the slight angular swell of his abdomen and up past the elastic of his boxers. For a moment, you rake your fingers up his abs and you shudder in response to the way his stomach flexes and his breathing oh-so-slightly breaks.

No words. Just the sound of him turning the page.

Bitch. You bite your tongue as you shift your head around. You can hear his heart thumping beneath your ear, and — god fucking dammit — it’s not beating quicker at all. It’s like you can’t disturb him. Get under his skin like he gets under yours.

You pick at the elastic of his waistband. On one hand? You’re rubbing your legs together, biting your tongue, and there’s a million and one dirty images in your head. You can practically hear Keegan’s growl in your ear: too needy to sit still, princess?

But on the other hand, he’s being mean. He’s ignoring you and all of your signs. And you kind of want to just roll over and go to sleep and maybe, just maybe, he’d been hoping for you to go further.

But you won’t. So he’ll get frustrated, and then it’ll be him slowly reaching his hand under the elastic of your waistband, fingers curving over the shape of your body and feeling for wet warmth. He’ll breathe in your ear with that stupid rasp of his and he’ll ask, voice raw, if you were really planning on hanging me out to dry like that? and you’ll say maybe I was.

Or he’ll get frustrated, but he’ll reach into his own pants. He’ll leave you alone, but you’ll wake up to the quiet sound of his muted groans and his hand stroking back and forth under the thin material of his boxers and then maybe he’ll do that thing where he tips his head back, swallows, and his eyes flutter shut and he cursed, quiet and hoarse.

Or maybe—

“Cold feet?” There he is again, short phrases and little questions. He’s not looking at you; he’s looking at his book, tilting his head as he turns the page. He raises an eyebrow to you, tongue clasped between his teeth.

“What?”

No response this time. Keegan’s eyes shift over to you; he cocks his head in your direction, and under that messy black mop of hair and those thick black lashes that you’ve always been envious of, Keegan silently asks if you’re really going to play this fucking dumb.

You’ve arrived at a stalemate. You don’t move. He doesn’t speak. You two just stare at each other, blinking back-and-forth like a tennis volley until Keegan finally sighs and looks away. His eyes return to the book.

You’re about to snap, ready to rip the godforsaken thing out of his lap, when the hand on your hip shifts. His arm lifts off of your back; it pulls around your shoulders instead, crushing you into his armpit.

His fingers clasp around your wrist, and you catch the undeniable edge of a smirk on his face before he takes your hand and pulls it into his pants.

get fucking cliffhanger’d bitches

[imyourbratzdoll]

Bucky angst fic idea!

Bucky always flirting with Sarah to make Y/n jealous, but what he doesn't realise is all these are just making her more insecure and hurting her (blame my past relationships for that).

And it's quite apparent that she's hurt. By the time he realises, Y/n is deep into the spiral. But obviously, a happy and fluffy ending (maybe smut), cause otherwise I will die from broken heart 😩😩

I hope you enjoy this! and I'm sorry you've had bad experiences with relationships. It's their loss.

summary - bucky flirts with sarah to make you jealous, forgetting that you aren't as secure as you come off.

warning - angst, fluff.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

‘Did I do something wrong?’ You think as you watch Bucky laugh at something Sarah said. ‘Maybe I’m not pretty enough for him anymore?’ His eyes flicker over to you, shooting you a smirk before he looks back at her, touching her arm softly with his metal one. ‘What could he be saying for her to laugh like that?’ You don’t know why you're doing this to yourself, but you continue to watch. Every laugh, every touch, every word sends pain through your chest.

You don’t notice Sam looking over at you, and you don’t see how he shoots daggers at Bucky and his sister. The only time you are brought out of your haze is when you hear shouting, blinking away the tears in your eyes. Your gaze focuses on Sam pushing and punching Bucky, screaming at him. You watch as he turns and begins shouting at his sister. 

You get up and decide to leave because watching Bucky fight back and defend another woman and his actions feels more painful than watching them flirt. After walking for a while, you come across a secluded area with a beautiful ocean view, feeling so lost in your head that you don’t get to enjoy the sounds of nature around you. Your mind was too busy racing with thoughts of not being good enough for anyone anymore that maybe you should’ve never fallen for the blue-eyed soldier's smile or sweet words.

Because you left, you don’t notice Bucky’s gaze focusing on the empty spot or that he no longer hears Sam screaming in his ear. You don’t see the utter panic appearing on Bucky’s face or that he begins to spin, frantically searching for you. You are so lost in your head that you don’t hear him screaming your name, you don’t hear him finding you, you don’t hear the utter relief in his voice when he whispers your name.

Because why would you? This man you thought was supposed to love you and only you, who wasn’t supposed to hurt you, did. Knowing how insecure you are, pulling you deeper into your mind that, of course, you wouldn’t notice him looking for you or finding you. Because you didn’t think Bucky cared enough to come looking for you, you thought that he’d be too lost in Sarah’s eyes to notice you missing. 

“Baby?” Bucky walks forward, “Doll?” His brows furrow as he doesn’t receive a response, walking so that he’s in front of you. His heart jumps in his throat when he sees how far he’s pushed you. Bucky quickly crouches down, taking your tear-soaked cheeks in his hands. “Babydoll, I’m so sorry! Fuck, I’m such an idiot. Baby, baby!” He strokes your cheeks with his thumb, desperately trying to bring you out of this. His arms wrap around your body, picking you up and carrying you to the house, dismissing Sam and Sarah when they try to step forward. 

He carries you to the guest room, cradling your face into his neck as he whispers sweet nothings against your hair. Bucky lies down, bringing you with him, holding you tightly against his body. “I’m so so sorry, babydoll. You are the only one I have eyes for, believe me! You are the reason I wake up in the morning, the only thing I look forward to.” His blue eyes flicker down to your face, noticing that yours are focused on his face, finally brought out of your state but staying quiet. 

Bucky strokes your bottom lip, staring at you lovingly. “I love you so much, and I will forever be sorry for what I’ve done. I should have realised that trying to make you jealous wasn’t right and was pathetic. I have such a beautiful dame on my arm, yet I felt the need to be a jerk.” His eyes fill with tears, and a sigh of relief leaves him when you roll over and cuddle into him. 

“I love you too, Bucky. But please don’t do it again.” You look up at him, pleading with your eyes as you don’t know if you’ll survive being hurt like that again. 

“Of course, doll. I’ll never do it again. You’re my doll forever and as long as you have me. I’ll continue making it up to you.” He places a soft kiss against your head, holding you tight against him as you both slowly drift off to sleep.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[papiliotao]

꒰ 𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒊𝒕 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 !! ✩࿐

pairings: albedo, alhaitham, childe, cyno, heizou, kazuha, scaramouche, and xiao x gn!reader (separate)

content: fluff, very light angst in xiao’s and childe’s (they still ends with fluff though), kissing, established relationship

summary: in which your boyfriend tells you that he loves you, but instead of returning his sentiments, you decide to mess with him by not saying it back.

a/n: i said that i’d post soon like two weeks ago... oops. nonetheless, i hope you have fun reading this!

₊˚ପ ALBEDO

“What’s the matter?” Albedo asks, tilting his head slightly as the words fall from the tip of his tongue. Vivid teal eyes fill with hints of concern that dance through his irises loftily in a flurry of iridescent petals.

Albedo is worried, but he doesn’t want to make a big deal out of nothing. For now, he’ll test the waters of an unexplored ocean and scope out the situation, hoping that he’s just reading too much into things.

“Nothing,” you answer, tilting your head innocently as if you don’t have a clue what Albedo’s talking about.

Your boyfriend is perplexed, but he’s not an idiot. He’s often been regarded as a genius, and he’s spent almost as much time reading the sentimental words engraved into your heart as he has conducting his experiments. Albedo is absolutely captivated by you because you never fail to leave him fascinated and awe-struck. So naturally, he’s managed to pick up on all your subtle habits and all your strange quirks.

And right now, the expression on your face tells him that something is off. A missing brushstroke on a panoramic painting. A sour note in an otherwise enchanting composition. A sparkling daydream where you feel just a little too lucid.

You know exactly what he’s talking about. You’re just feigning ignorance.

Now all Albedo has to do is figure out why.

“I see,” he whispers under his breath in a tone so soft that even a light breeze would whisk his words off to neverland.

Albedo’s gaze remains fixated on you, his eyebrows scrunched and eyes narrowed.

Then a barely-audible chuckle leaves your lips. You stifle it in an instant, but Albedo has committed the melodic sound of your laugh to memory.

And suddenly everything makes sense.

You’re trying to get a reaction out of him, but sadly for you, you seem to have forgotten one key detail. Albedo is used to solving issues in a calm manner, his temperament akin to aquatic drafts that gently caress the surface of a crystal ocean. Cool and controlled.

“Ah, I understand now,” he says, and your eyes widen. The expression on your face rivals the beauty of a night sky dotted with various asterisms. You’re utterly ethereal. The corners of Albedo’s lips turn up, graced with a smile that shines with the light of a million stars. “You thought you could fool me, but unfortunately, you just gave yourself away.”

A pause. The tension within the air thaws, and the atmosphere becomes light-hearted once more.

“I’m not mad,” he clarifies, staring you dead in the eye, “but I would, however, appreciate it if you could make it up to me.”

₊˚ପ ALHAITHAM

Alhaitham is unfazed.

He sees right through you. You didn’t seriously think this was going to work on him, right? It didn’t take him long to get used to your antics when you first got together, and although you haven’t tried to play as many pranks on him as of late, it’s difficult to erase the devious grin you don whenever you’re up to something from his mind. Nor has the sly look in your eyes slipped from his memory.

Your boyfriend’s ability to read you is almost prophetic — a prediction of the future, yet no stars are read and no omens are required. He makes his predictions based on logic and logic alone.

And unfortunately for you, you don’t possess the same capabilities.

When you ignore Alhaitham’s honeyed words, turning your back to walk away with a coldness reminiscent of the farthest outreaches of the galaxy, he simply shrugs it off and heads to your living room to read a book. He sinks comfortably into a plush armchair, knowing full well that you’ll be back in no time.

Just four pages in, and Alhaitham hears the sound of footsteps echoing down the hallways, filling your shared home with a familiar sort of music. It’s only a few more seconds before he feels a tap on his shoulder — a touch that brings him back to reality entirely, away from the realm of scholarly pursuits.

“Is there anything you need?” Alhaitham asks, meeting your gaze with eyes tinted a turquoise found only in the most pristine of diamond waters. He remains as stoic as ever, not allowing so much as a single hint of emotion to show through his front.

You stare at him, dumbfound, for a few moments. Alhaitham knows what you’re thinking. He’s normally so observant — nothing ever slips past him, and yet this time, he failed to acknowledge the fact that you didn’t respond to his ‘I love you’. Besides that, it’s rather rare for Alhaitham to allow those words to leave his lips in the first place. He prefers to reserve them for tender moments, times where it feels like the only beings present in the vast universe are the two of you. You expected him to be more alert, and yet, Alhaitham has subverted all your expectations.

And it’s all part of his plan.

But then your eyes widen, filling with a light signaling that you’ve just experienced an epiphany. Alhaitham can tell that you’ve realized what he’s up to, and that your little scheme has backfired entirely.

“About earlier,” you start, assuming that Alhaitham already knows what you’re referring to.

Alhaitham smiles.

“What about it?” he questions you, acting oblivious even though both of you know Alhaitham would never be that clueless.

“You acted like you didn’t notice on purpose, didn’t you?” You’re pouting, but your irritation is clearly feigned. Alhaitham knows you like the back of his hand, and although messing with you produces some entertaining results, he would never go so far as to hurt you.

A rare smile graces Alhaitham’s face, as stunning as vivid ribbons of celestial light that compose an illustrious aurora. He’s not typically one to express emotion, but he can’t help himself. You’re just far too irresistible, and if there’s one thing he has a soft spot for, it’s you.

“My apologies,” he speaks in his usual calm tone. “I just couldn’t help myself — not when I knew I’d be able to bear witness to such an adorable display of anger.”

₊˚ପ CHILDE

The silence that hangs in the air is tangible — a thick veil of unspoken words, all consolidated into glacial fractals that cause the atmosphere to glaze over. An icy sort of tension permeates the moment, crystallizing the ambience and morphing it into something fragile.

And everything shatters when your boyfriend speaks.

“[Name],” he frowns, gazing at you with periwinkle hues devoid of illumination. He sighs, swallowing his pride. “Say it back. Please.”

A blank look fills your eyes, morphing once-lively galaxies into monochromatic jumbles of nonsense. For once, Childe can’t tell what you’re thinking, and that scares him. Either you’re messing with him, and you’re an exceptionally good actor, or you’re being serious.

“Say what back?” you say, cluelessness filling your tone filling your tone.

Childe is dumbfounded. It’s true that he tells you he loves you quite often, but he didn’t think that you’d become so accustomed to it that his words would no longer hold any weight. Although he finds it slightly odd, he supposes that even the most precious of glittering gemstones becomes mundane when fortune is the norm. But that doesn’t mean he’s any less disappointed.

“You really can’t tell?” he sighs yet again. He averts his gaze, looking anywhere but at you.

You shake your heart, and yet as you do, he catches a subtle flash of gilded lightning flash through your irises, setting your expression ablaze with hints of mischief. It vanishes as quickly as it appeared, but Childe knows what he saw. The initial melancholy that gripped his heart with cold fingers borne of frost dissipates, and in its place, amusement arises.

Silence. Shock. Disbelief.

And then he bursts out in a fit of sonorous laughter, the sheer volume of each chuckle rivalling that of an intense tempest.

Your eyes widen. It seems that you didn’t expect to be found out, but Childe has known you for long enough to be able to read your emotions. He’s spent an eternity exploring every nuance of your personality — every subtlety and every quirk, the good, the bad, and the ugly. And he loves every part of you.

That’s why he never fails to express his adoration whenever the opportunity is presented in evanescent moments like these. Although times like these sound like they’d be rare, they’re not when he’s by your side. Every second is filled with bliss, and despite the instances where azure skies are painted a dull grey and sapphire oceans turn tumultuous, he always knows that everything will be alright.

“I should have known,” he says. “You were just teasing me.”

Busted.

In less than a minute, your boyfriend has exposed all your plans, and you have no choice but to admit defeat.

“I was,” you admit, hanging your head.

Childe laughs, but once he settles down, he cups your chin in one hand and lifts your head to meet his gaze. With a surprising amount of tenderness, he closes the distance between your lips. Inch by inch.

You lean in as well. Time slows, and he forgets how to breathe. Even though he was the one who initiated the kiss, he finds you utterly enchanting. The beating of his heart speeds up, becoming erratic, desperate for the sensation of your soft lips pressed against his.

And then it happens. Although Childe had been looking for a verbal affirmation of love, this is even better. Fireworks seem to burst in the edges of his vision, painting the world in vivid shades of phosphorescent crimson and rose.

₊˚ପ CYNO

“Say it back. There’s no need to continue on with this prank of yours because cy-no you’re only joking,” he says. His voice is as monotone as ever, as tranquil as cerulean seas beneath a sky dotted with snowy white clouds.

His words provoke no response from you. You simply stare at him, too shocked to speak.

“Do you get it? Because Cyno is my name, and ‘cy’ sounds a little bit like ‘I’ while ‘no’ sounds like ‘know’.”

Cyno watches as your features scrunch in a twist of disbelief, embarrassment, and fear. He internally chuckles, secretly delighting in the adorable expression adorning your face.

Your reactions are always priceless, worth more than the most precious of gold and the most luxurious of diamonds. Because basking in the splendor of your smile is true opulence.

“Okay, okay,” you giggle, the embers of mischief within your eyes flickering, “you win. Please stop with the puns. I can’t take it anymore.” Your tone is playful, light.

The corners of Cyno’s lips turn up slightly as a smile graces his features. He’s well aware that your exasperation is feigned — nothing more than an exaggeration fabricated in order to tease him a little. Besides, if you didn’t like his sense of humour, you wouldn’t even be dating him right now.

“Victory is mine,” Cyno speaks triumphantly in a tone full of a hyperbolic sort of grandeur.

He feels light-hearted for the first time in a while, and it’s in that moment, that fraction of a second, that Cyno realizes something.

Your presence is liberating.

When he’s with you, he’s free from the troubles of daily life. With you, the responsibilities that go hand-in-hand with his status are put on hold, allowing him some time to truly experience what it’s like to be unburdened. With you, he’s not the General Mahamatra, one of the most renowned figures within Sumeru. 

He’s just Cyno.

He feels his grin widen as he opens his mouth to speak once more.

“I love you,” he repeats his words from earlier, his tone one of pure adoration and bliss. The beating of his heart picks up, setting a new tempo that seems just right for the moment, a perfect backing for a myriad of silent declarations.

That seems to do the trick because you admit defeat without hesitation and utter the same words back with an extra one following in tandem.

“I love you too.”

₊˚ପ HEIZOU

“Oh? Do you not love me anymore?” Heizou confronts the problem head-on, feigning sadness. A smirk spreads across his face when he sees your confused expression, but he manages to erase it in an instant, deceiving even the eyes of his partner.

You should have known better than to play a prank of this sort on him. After all, Heizou’s always been one to turn your tricks against you.

As soon as your eyes widen and your jaw drops, Heizou knows that he’s won. To his relief, you don’t notice the way his verdant pools of peridot sparkle with mischief. You’re too absorbed in your panic to sense that anything is off.

He has to continuously stifle bouts of laughter. Heizou finds your reactions slightly too cute.

“N-No! I didn’t mean it like that!” you blurt out in a tone laced with desperation. “I’m sorry. I should have known that you would have noticed something was off. You’re always so perceptive,” you speak sheepishly, averting your gaze. “I just wanted to see how you’d react if I didn’t say it back…”

Heizou chuckles.

“You’re too cute, darling,” he muses, staring you straight in the eyes. “Fortunately for you, my intuition told me that you were just messing with me.”

You groan.

“Of course you figured it out,” you sigh.

Heizou can’t help but mentally agree. He’s already used to solving mysteries, and the fact that the two of you are so close doesn’t quite work to your advantage. Your boyfriend knows you like the back of his hand, and unfortunately for you, he enjoys the thrill of piecing together the puzzles you craft in an attempt to elicit reactions from him.

“I think I deserve a reward for cracking this case,” he says, pointing a finger at his lips.

When Heizou sees your eyes light up, glowing with the opalescent radiance of a nebula, he knows he’s about to get what he wants.

With one quick movement, you lean in nervously to place a shy kiss on Heizou’s lips, clearly still embarrassed by your failure. When you pull away, you take a few steps backwards before gazing deep into your boyfriend’s eyes. In that moment, Heizou realizes that the sentiments swirling through your irises — feelings embodied by the warm hues of a dying sunset — are nothing but sincere.

₊˚ପ KAZUHA

Kazuha knows you’re teasing him. From the subtle grin you’re trying to hide to the mischievous light dancing within your star-flecked irises, it’s not difficult to discern that you’re teasing him.

But despite everything, he decides to play along.

“I love you,” he repeats, gently taking your hand in his. He plants a gentle kiss on the back of your hand, a charming habit more than a calculated measure.

Kazuha glances up at you and smiles — a gentle expression that lights up your day with rays of golden sunshine. In a single flash, your cheekiness vanishes, and instead, an awestruck gaze paints itself across your face.

Kazuha suppresses a giggle. Far too often, he finds himself enamoured with you, especially when you’re flustered. He attempts to memorize the sight before him, engraving every dip and curve of your facial features into his memories.

You’re just far too endearing for him to resist, and besides, you’re his muse. Kazuha isn’t exactly sure how he knows it, but somehow, he’s certain that someday this moment will undergo a metamorphosis within a hall of crystallized memories, transforming from a fond recollection of the past to strings of eloquently phrased words — a haiku.

You look absolutely captivated by him, and although he didn’t intentionally try to send your heart into a frenzy of vivid daydreams and rose-tinted adoration, he’s glad you find him so attractive. A few seconds pass before you give in.

“I love you too,” you whisper breathlessly, grinning at Kazuha before leaving for the day. As soon as you’re out the door, Kazuha chuckles, eyes containing the essence of autumn mingling with a bright moonglow, swirling with amusement.

“I love you more.”

₊˚ପ SCARAMOUCHE

Scaramouche is confused, but he tries his best not to show it. He’s fairly certain that the two of you haven’t argued recently, so why is it that you’re not reciprocating his affections?

Although Scaramouche acts like he doesn’t care sometimes, he knows all your small habits. And as your lover, he finds it odd that you aren’t uttering those three powerful words back. That coupled with the fact that it’s rather difficult for him to express his feelings makes him desperate for a response.

“Are you forgetting something?” he grumbles, not wanting to seem too desperate. Deep down, his emotions cause whirlwinds of conflicting thoughts to swirl in his mind.

He watches as you blink — slowly, gradually as if you want to stretch seconds into eons. A frown etches itself into his forehead, and he feels irritation begin to overtake his heart. Storm clouds, tinted an ominous grey, overwhelm the ambience.

Finally, after what feels like forever, you shake your head.

“I don’t think so,” you tell him.

Scaramouche’s features twist into a pout, and he crosses his arms in front of his chest. Yet at the same time, your boyfriend is embarrassed beyond measure. He feels his cheeks heating up, and he’s absolutely sure that shades of pink reminiscent of a sunrise have begun to dust his pale cheeks.

“Fine,” he breathes out, rolling his eyes and turning away. “Forget it. I’ll see you tonight.” Scaramouche tries to brush it off casually, attempting to erase the odd experience from memory.

He want nothing more than to hear you say those three words back, but he’s far too proud to admit it.

He nearly walks away before he feels a firm grip on his shoulder.

“Wait,” you say. “I was just kidding.”

Scaramouche groans. He turns around in order to face you.

“How irritating,” he sighs. He brushes his hair, silken strands spun of midnight, away from in front of his eyes. Scaramouche can’t believe you were able to sense his vulnerability.

You giggle upon seeing Scaramouche’s grumpy face.

“You owe me for this,” he states.

“I know,” you whisper, stepping closer to him and leaning in.

Scaramouche feels his breath hitch, and before he knows what’s happening, the sensation of your warm lips against his overwhelms his senses. Sparks fly in the edges of his vision, and soon enough, a passionate fire is set ablaze in a grand display of crimson elation.

Although you didn’t say anything in response when he told you he loved you, your wordless exchange of adoration speaks volumes.

I love you.

₊˚ପ XIAO

Xiao sucks in a quiet breath as you turn away from him. It’s not often that he expresses his affection verbally, and the fact that you’re barely responding to his declaration of love is unnerving.

He looks down, strands of seafoam obscuring his gaze, blocking eyes of honeyed amber from your line of sight. However, he raises his head after only a few seconds, attempting to ignore the feeling of unease creeping up on him, freezing his very being with a subtle chill. It’s barely there — a pain nowhere near the sting of a frostbite — yet it still eats away at him, reminding him again and again that something is wrong.

But although Xiao wants to ask you if anything’s bothering you or if he did something to upset you, he can’t. Translating his emotions into words feels far too difficult, especially because in all honestly, this situation is probably no big deal — or so he tells himself. Your nonchalance contrasts with his overthinking, causing doubt to well up within his mind.

In the end, he allows you to leave, wallowing within an aquamarine sea of thoughts. The world has been painted a watercolour blue. Although he refuses to admit it, melancholy overtakes Xiao’s heart, as he’s now both confused and lost.

Did he upset you?

The idea doesn’t seem too outlandish. Xiao’s never been good at interpreting emotions or expressing them, and it’s one of his greatest insecurities as your boyfriend. He’s gotten better over time, but there are times where he still worries about being too oblivious to your feelings.

Unfortunately for Xiao, you’re out for the day, so there’s plenty of time for negative thoughts to ruminate in his mind, festering until they reach the point of becoming a soulless black hole, draining every bit of confidence from him.

As the skies outside the glass windows of your shared home begin to tint with a rosy blush, and a golden light paints the world in shades of ephemeral warmth, Xiao becomes restless. You’ll be back any moment, and then, he’ll have to face you. Anticipation causes his heart to beat in a frenzy as the minute of your arrival approaches.

And sure enough, you return at the exact time you always do.

As soon as you walk through the door, Xiao walks over to greet you, gauging your reactions. When you see him, the corners of your lips turn up in an ethereal smile, and the rest of your face lights up.

Your delighted expression takes Xiao aback. He didn’t expect such a pleasant greeting after the events of this morning, but he brushes it off, allowing a grin to dance across his features in tandem, reciprocating your look of absolute adoration.

“I missed you,” he whispers, stepping closer to you in order to gently take your hand in his.

To assure himself that you’re here in the moment. That nothing’s wrong.

He sighs contently when you don’t pull away. The solace of your intertwined fingers is akin to the tidings of a viridescent spring after countless days of pure white dusting a panoramic landscape. It’s a breath of fresh air after eons spent hyperventilating in the frigidness of a crystallized wasteland, silently fading away amongst seas of sparkling snow.

Xiao can finally breathe again.

And when he laters asks why you didn’t return the three precious words he uttered under his breath earlier that day, as the sun had just begun bathing the world in aureate light, your answer causes his face to heat up.

It was nothing more than a prank.

disappearing back into my gremlin cave for another fifty years now!! thank you so much for reading!

[kobb4ni2]

I just read you sea serpent reader and I have been having thought on how everyone who meet reader!

Strawhats

*Were on day fishing and somehow the hook got onto readers tail or hair and was force to surface to see where the hook is from*

Reader who surface and is staring at the Strawhats: Hi

Luffy/Sanji/Chopper/Usopp/Nami: FOOD/LADY/MONSTER

Red-haired Pirates

*crashes on an island that reader was chilling*

Shanks: want a drink?

Crew: IDIOT!

Beast Pirates

*Appeared at Wano bc Kaido tried to kill himself for the millionth time and ended up in Readers territory.

Yamato see reader for the first time: READER! WILL YOU MARRY ME!

Everyone: Young Master!!!!

Marines HQ

*Got in trouble because she sunk a Celestial Dragon ship*

Akainu: You can't keep sinking every ship that you see because you don't like them

Reader pounting and acting guilty: Sowwwy

Akainu: We will let this slide (for the thousandths time)

[ FEM READER ]

The Strawhats would have heard of you from stories of Jimbie or Robin explaining the poneglyph that consisted of your name, which could be traced back from Skypiea and ect.

This is just a rundown of how some strawhats knew about your existence :3

Luffy would have definitely heard many stories about you from his grandpa or the Red hair pirate, Shanks saying that one day you will be his bride and all.

Franky would have also heard stories of you from Tom and from Kokoro, he might have read your name in the Pluton sheet (I forgot what it’s called 😭)

Nami would have overheard from Arlong and the other fishmen because Sea Serpent! Reader is basically their Goddess.

AND ROBIN OOH LOORRDD, Robin would actually have an obsession on you before you ever even met the Strawhats, the old books of Ohara would have so many information out of you, and since you were close to Joyboy she would always somehow read your name in one of the poneglyphs which made her incredibly hooked on you.

Sanji from Zeff and you being related to the ocean, you must know about the all blue them!!

But ya know just one day the crew were just fishing, everyone is doing their own thing, Franky made a huge fishing net to capture more fishes, which works perfectly fine (more food for Luffy yippiee) and just yoink. They just yoinked Sea Serpent! Reader out of the water while she was just sleeping…. Means the Strawhats woke her up from her nap dawg😞

Sea Serpent! Reader: Umm…Hi? You woke me up from my nap.

Luffy would be starry eyed while Sanji is turned into stone when he saw your beauty, Zoro would be on guard, Chopper,Ussop and Nami would be freighted, but Nami would have this sense of familiar towards you, while Jimbie, Robin, Brook and Franky (aka the oldest) are amazed that YOU ARE ACTUALLY REAL!! (World government hid you from the world basically) I mean they knew you were real but ya know the world government and stuff…

The Red Hair Pirates Shanks specifically KNEW YOU ALREADY, but only stories from Roger and Reighley, Shanks knew that you were real but was only being hold as a dangerous being to the World Government so they have to somehow keep you in a leash, but that didn’t really stop you from exploring island to island and that where you saw the Red Hair Pirates, drunk or not Shanks would start flirting with you the minute you agree to join their party ;3

BEAST PIRATES LETS GOOO GRAAAGGHHH

You saved Kaido from drowning after his “I have lost count” attempt, you the dragged his ass back to Wano, but before you can leave you were SOMEHOW detained and kept in a fancy room, that’s when Yamato met you, he heard that King ordered you to be held captive for a while, and the closer Yamato saw you the more you reminded him of the stories of Oden in his logbook about a Sea Serpent who had travelled with the Roger Pirates for only a few months, and when his suspicion was confirmed he immediately jumped out of his hiding spot and went to hug your tail, you were shocked but the boy Yamato kept on ranting about you, about opening up Wano and Oden and stuff, Yamato even said that after Wano is open he will marry you!!! (King is fuming rn)

The power you hold when it comes to the Marines is insane, the Gorosei will always send at least one Admiral to check up on you or if you’re going somewhere. It’s no secret you despise the Celestial Dragons, how could you not! Those are the people that brings extreme slavery and injustice not just towards your people but to everyone alike. You swear to Akainu that you didn’t even hit the celestial dragons boat, you just accidentally nudge it!! No you didn’t sent waves towards a boat that contains a bunch of Celestial Dragon, you were just swimming and your tail made too much force!! You have to forgive Sea Serpent! Reader!!

[siren-serenity]

i just wanna kiss you

characters: roronoa zoro, gn!reader (nami, luffy, usopp, sanji included!!! straw hat crew for life!! :D) warnings: fluff, takes place in east blue arc, drunk kiss (consensual) a/n: - feedback is appreciated!

"Y/N!"

You heard your name being yelled out in a drunken slur. Popping your head out the window, you watched with amusement as Nami attempted to drag a stumbling Usopp and Zoro back onto the Going Merry. Usopp's limbs were tripping over one another while Zoro kept attempting to get out of her iron grip.

"Gonna help me or what?" Nami raised an eyebrow upon noticing you. You shrugged, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

"I don't know, looks like you got everything under control."

"Y/NNNNN!" Luffy giggled, stretching his arms inhumanly long and then rocketed himself into your open arms. You let out a grunt, stumbling backward as your arms wrapped around Luffy's body. His body was strangely smooth, not that you expected less given that your captain was a literally a rubber man. He broke you out of your rambling thoughts by rubbing his cheek against yours. "Zoro and Usopp are superrrrr drunk!"

"Am not!" Usopp interjected before tripping over his feet and falling flat on his face. He let out a painful groan, causing Luffy to leap off you and help him up. "Shishishi, yes you are!"

"Y/N," A low murmur of your name made you spin around. Low and behold, Zoro stood before you, a deep, dark red blush on his tanned cheeks. His arms stretched forward and you obliged, tugging him into a hug. His well-built chest collided with yours and he placed his head in the crook of your collarbone, breathing slowly. Your vision was covered by his bright green hair, spiky up in a messy fashion.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Hey, love. Drank a bit too much?"

"Mmph," He grunted, protesting against your words. "It's nothing. Like usual. The usual amount."

Nami scoffed, raising an eyebrow. "Usual? If I recall correctly, you challenged Usopp to a drinking competition."

"Yeah, and I won," To spite her even further, Zoro gave her a glare before it was covered up by his yawn. "Beat that, Usopp."

"Usopp can't even say a single word, you stupid moss head," Sanji rolled his eyes, a hand helping Usopp up before slinging it over his shoulders. With a wave to everyone else and a 'Goodnight, especially to you, my dear Nami!', Sanji disappeared around the corner of the Going Merry with a stumbling Usopp in tow.

Luffy laughed, waving enthusiastically.

"It's bedtime! Night, everyone!!" He grinned, skipping away. Nami followed him, sighing heavily and murmuring 'At least they're all in one piece and alive...'

Zoro's chilly hands dragged themselves up and down your bare side leisurely. It left frigid trails in its wake and you shivered.

"Love, you're freezing!" You frowned, placing a hand on his cheeks. Zoro's eyes were half-lidded and he only sleepily nuzzled himself into your hand. "Let's go in."

"No."

Raising an eyebrow, you stared him down. "You're freezing, and you don't want to go in."

"No..." He grumbled, pulling back to stare you in the eye. "I just want..."

"Want what?"

A rare blush crawled onto his face. You let out a tiny chuckle, enjoying moments like this when Zoro was emotionally vunerable.

His hands trailed to your back and secured themselves there, barely brushing the waistband of your shorts. His fingers were cold, frigid to the touch yet they left a blaze of heat against your skin.

"Mhmm...I just want to..." Zoro's eyes were half-lidded but clouded over with a haze of love. Despite the cool ocean breeze, a blush burned onto your cheeks. "May I kiss you?"

Your hand cradled his chin, brushing a thumb against his lower lip. He swallowed audibly. "You never need to ask, my love."

"The idiot cook told me consent was important," He shrugged and before a second had passed, he tugged you closer, smashing your lips together. Your hands hung loosely around his neck and your steps shuffled backward before your back bumped against the railings of the Going Merry. Zoro braced his hands on your hips, gripping them to the point that you know that bruises would form tomorrow.

(He would smile the next morning, laying on his back lazily but with a satisfied grin on his face as he admired the numerous bruises left on your body. Bruises that complimented and matched the ones you left on him. He was yours and you were his.)

"Zoro..." You breathed out breathlessly when he pulled back for oxygen. He panted, heaving his chest up and down. You resisted the urge to run your hands all over his muscular chest and those pecs..."That was-"

Zoro licked his lips, grinning.

"Want more?"

You tugged his open collar and jerked him closer to you. With centimeters just between your lips, you smirked. The swordsman's smile slowly crept into a more mischevious one, matching yours.

"Hell yeah."

[nelissecrectplace]

Refuge

part 1 | next

aonung x !Sully! reader.

Word count: 4.7k

Language: Tsahík- spiritual leader of the clan, Skxáwng - idiot

description: Your family seeks refuge with the Metkayina clan. You are met with a boy that takes your breath away but you did not know the sadist that lived under those eyes. He was cruel and mean too your sibling and you so why did your heart still beat for him? Why is he more gentle when it comes too you?

Exhaustion, the only word to describe how you felt after the days of traveling to the reefs clans home. You payed no mind to the na’vi’s gathering around as you landed your ikran. Hopping off all you felt was a overwhelming uncomfortable feeling as the sand seemed to burn your feet and the suns fire danced across your body. There were no trees to hide yourself no soft grass to calm the ache of your feet as the grains of sand seemed to be on fire. The heat was unbearable and it only seemed to get more suffocating as the crowd around you thickened.

Your father approached with his hands up showing you meant no hard as he approached the people. You lazily followed behind him feeling discouraged and weak from your travels. Kiri seeming to notice your state took your hand in hers giving it a comfortable squeeze. She led you to stand behind your parents, being a good big sister and guiding you. Lo’ak and Neteyam were right next to them allowing the strange Na’vi to examine them. You could not understand how your older brothers were always so bold never lacking confidence. It was funny because Lo’ak was born just a few minutes ahead of you but the two of you could not be anymore different.

Suddenly the crowd parted as a clearly entitled na’vi made his was to the front. His eyes seemed to burn into your family as he scanned you all. You did not miss how he ignored your brothers greeting simply staring through them as if they were not even there. Normally you would feel offended but you could not seem to process the boys disrespect as you eyes scanned his body. He was not like the Omaticaya warriors you were use too seeing, he had a strong large build with a tatoo from his neck to bicep. A feeling of desire swirled in your belly as you took him , Eywa he was beautiful.

Seeming to notice your state his menacing ocean eyes met yours. He scanned your body as if he was taking in every detail. You had not realized you were holding your breath until his gaze tore away from you as he turned to talk to a shorter na’vi. A snickers left his lips as he turned back to you and your sister motioning to your tails. Suddenly your stomach dropped as embarrassment took over, hiding next to kiri you attempted to shield yourself from their gazes. Their laughing did not last long though as a beautiful na’vi hit them both as she whispered a scolding you could not hear.

Looking to your brother you saw him take her in with a awestruck gaze. You could not help but giggle at Lo’ak obviousness as you watch him, god your twin was such an skxáwng. The Amused feeling soon vanished as the chief made a grand display announcing his arrival. Nerves took over as your father conversed with the chief and your mother and the Tsahík butted heads. Suddenly the intimidating woman was making strides towards you and kiri and every bone in your body told you too flee as you tensed.

“Look at these tails they will be useless in the water!” Grabbing your tail harshly she examined it with her hands almost as if making a point. Letting out a faint cry of pain you were quick to take your tail back an annoyed expression painted on your face. The woman paid no mind as she continue to rudely take your sisters and Lo’aks hand and lift them in the air.

“They have demon blood!” Voice accusatory she embarrassed your sibling. You felt your blood boil as you watched her, how dare she! A hiss escaped your lips as you stared at the woman fury in your eyes but your father was quick to take the attention away from your act of disrespect. He displayed his hand countering her point and leaving her silent. The woman made her way back to her husbands side and as if they were communicating with their eyes they looked to each-other. You wished they did not grant you uturu after that dehumanizing display but your father seemed please with the outcome. All you felt was sadness weigh down your heart, wishing you were home.

“My daughter Tsireya and my son Ao’nung will teach your kids the way of are people.” At the news the young girl seemed to light up her smile lightning your mood slightly. Her excitement was contagious you could not deny that. The boy with the ocean eyes did not seem as please as words of defilement left his lips but he was quickly shut down. You could not deny that you were slightly exited to have such an attractive teacher, especially if you had to go through an iknimaya again. It felt foolish going through a rite of passage at 18 but you must learn the way of these people.

Tsireya was full of joy as she helped you take your stuff to your pod. You felt a slight comfort watching her prance along. Though your amusement did not last long as your arms seemed to scream at the weight of your load, arms slightly shaking. You moved slower than the others with similar loads to you but you were the only one who seems to struggle. Strength had never been your fortes, you became a warrior because of your speed definitely not raw strength, unlike your brothers.

“Your flimsy arms can’t even hold such a small load.” You felt a blush cascade over your face as his ocean eyes pierced yours. The boy you knew as Ao’nung had a smirk plastered across his face as he looked back at you clearly amused by your struggling.

“I-I am fine” The lie left your lips in a tone filled with struggle. You felt embarrassed that his first impression of you was a weak na’vi who could not even haul her load. The man only shot you an unimpressed look as he walked towards you. Ao’nung only shot you a glare that made your stomach flip nervously as he lightened your load, taking a few things from your grasp. A sigh of relief left your lips as you slightly jogged to catch up the na’vi already a few strides ahead of you.

“Thank you!” A smile threatened to breach your lips as you looked at the boy.

“Don’t think much of it forest girl, I do not like you freaks in my village.” As his words hit your ears you felt your ears droop. The temporary happiness quickly vanished as you were at a lost for words gaze casted away. What a great start to your life in the clan….

It had been 2 days since your arrival and today was to be the first training in the Metkayina way. You were suppose to meet Roxto Tsireya and Ao’nung near the ilu saddles. You were filled with excitement as you walked next to Lo’ak to the locations as Kiri and Neteyam led, Tuk had her own personal tutor due to being 12 years she would not need to learn some of the things her older siblings were. You had no fears for your little sister as you anticipated your own lessons, hoping to feel a little less useless in these foreign lands.

“God, your excitement is gonna make me puke.” Slightly pushing you Lo’ak rolled his eyes playfully.

“Don’t act as if you are not filled with joy to see the chiefs daughter!” Teasing your twin you pinched his cheek as he hissed.

“As if I have not seen you eyeing the future chief.”

“How-”

“I am your twin y/n we are different but I know you as if you are myself.”

A blushed painted your cheeks as you avoided your brothers knowing gaze. You knew twin telepathy was a myth but moments like these you felt as if the boy could read your mind.

“Whatever.” Quickening your pase you caught up with Neteyam and Kiri hoping to join their conversation to avoid Lo’aks teasing. Your twin only laughed at your actions jogging to catch up too the three of you. Kiri and Neteyam shot the both of you a questioning look but payed no mind as they approached a waiting Tsireya.

“Oh, good morning! I have been waiting, the boys are already in the water.” After a short sweet greeting the girl ushered the 4 of you into the water. She dived in so gracefully it left you slightly taken aback. How could someone be so effortlessly perfect?

Lo’ak who wore a similar expression wasted no time to jump in with Neteyam. The two boys made whoops as they splashed in the water, it was an ungraceful sight compared to Tsireyas display. Slightly hesitant you looked to kiri for reassurance and your older sister gave you just that. Taking your hand in hers you both walked to the edge launching yourself into the water.

As the water calmed around you your eyes prided opened taking in your surrounding. If you were not underwater the sight itself would have taken your breath away, it was beautiful. Kiri, who also seemed entranced by the beauty shared your look of awe. You did not bother to stop your sister as she wandered away knowing the girls entrancement with wild life, you simply followed your brothers in front of you. You took the chance they went up for air to call too then allowing them to stop and wait for you.

“Hurry y/n these guys are fast as hell!” Lo’aks voice called out as he grabbed your arm pulling you towards them. Neteyam had his face in the water watching the na’vi below you.

“They are doing weird signs but I think they want us to follow.” Neteyam informed you as he took a deep breath and dove back in. You felt a wave of dread as he did so feeling your lungs already burn. Resentfully you took a deep breath and followed the boys, but it was no hope as the Metkayina were far too fast and could hold their breath for much longer. Before you knew it the three of you were back at the surface gasping for breath.

“I-I can not” You spat out between breath as you looked at you brother. They shot you a sympathetic look before the other breached the water next to you.

“You are not good divers, maybe good at swinging through trees-” Interrupting her brothers rude comment Tsireya smacked him on his head. You could not help but let a weak giggle out in between your struggle to catch your breath.

“We do not understand this finger talk.” Said Neteyam.

“We will teach you.” Tsireya said in a calm voice as she looked at each one of you. You caught Ao’nung rolling his eyes in the back, it was no doubt that he was not happy to be lumped in.

“Where is kiri?” Suddenly the boy Roxto asked as he looked around the group.

“She is near where we dove in.”

“We’ll then let’s head there, you guys need breathing practice” With a giggle Tsireya dove back into the water leading the way. A full body sigh left you lips, knowing you would have to go under again.

“Don’t drown on the way back forest girl.” You felt hot breath on your neck as the familiar voice of Ao’nung spoke so close to you. Goosebumps seemed to rise on your skin where his breath touched. You had no words to say as you turned to look at the ocean blue eyes that were soon torn away from your gaze as he dove under.

“Skxáwng!”

𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅

After what seemed like hours of swimming you made it back too shore. Your stamina was far from small yet you felt a slight drowsiness overtake you as you walked onto the beach. It was almost as if your lungs were tired, a feeling you had not felt before. You were most grateful that your new activity did not include holding your breath but learning to breath. You would be lying if you said you did not find Tsireyas explanation confusing, weren’t you breathing right now?

It seemed as though Lo’ak shared your confusion because as the lesson progressed the two of you seemed to be the only ones not getting it. It did not help that Tsireya flirtatiously placed her hand on Lo’aks stomach sending the poor na’vi even more off course than before. A slight laugh left your lips at your twins reaction finding his flustered state amusing.

“Do not laugh when you are not doing any better” Cutting your amusement short that annoyingly smooth voice entered your ears. His tone was laced with annoyance as he poked at you.

“Yet I do not see you being of any help.” a sarcastic smile painted your face as you turned too meet his eyes.

“Do not blame me for your lack of skill.”Suddenly Ao’nung’s voice darken in a way as his eyes scanned your form. This caught the attention of Neteyam, offended for a reason you could not understand.

“Watch how you talk too my sister.” Neteyam was quick too jump in his voice stern as Lo’ak was peering from behind him.

“Woah, woah, woah let’s calm down a bit.” Tsireya jumped between the two males with a nervous smile on her face.

“Let’s separate into small groups, keep things peaceful and help the ones struggling!” Clapping her hands together the girl looked around with a hopeful look. The group muttered an agreement as Tsireya was quick to separate na’vi into groups of three. Of course you were stuck with Ao’nung while the others were spread between Rotxo and Tsireya.

“We shall separate for more focus, teach some signs too them as well!” Scoffing Ao’nung turned away from his sister and began to walk away. Tsireya motioned for you to follow the grouchy man and you did just that. Dragging your feet behind the taller na’vi you felt your mood sour at his obvious attitude.

No words left his lips as you were left staring at his back. In your opinion he was blessed with a very nice back. You could see bits off his tattoo from his neck at the top of his shoulder and it was obvious that he was a warrior. His frame was strong and hard most likely the result of his training and endless hours of swimming. It was almost as if you were in a trance as you admired him from behind caught up in the way his muscles slightly moved as his defined arms swayed at his sides.

Abruptly stopping your brain did not have any time to process until you slammed into the na’vi, a slight gasp left your lips at the impact. In attempt to back up you stumbled on your own feet landing swiftly on the ground. A slight groan left your lips as you made contact with the sand. You had no time to catch your breath before ao’nung was turned around, wearing an amused expression as he looked at you.

“Try too pay some attention forest girl.” It was now Ao’nungs turn to wear a sarcastic smile as his eyes looked over your fallen form. Embarrassed, you quickly rose dusting the sand off your backside. You avoided his judging eyes as you placed yourself on the rock you assumed was going too be the place he would teach you.

“Hmm no words now?” Cocking his head too the side he worn his signature smirk, placing himself in front of you. You felt your heart best against your ribs as his eyes bore into you.

“I am sorry.” Avoiding his gaze you whispered a response. A purple hue painted across your face. A light chuckle met your ears as his eyes stayed glued too your face.

“Let’s start with signing than, if you even can with… those fingers.”

Casting your gaze too your four finger hands you subconsciously laced them together. Tucking your pinky finger in you felt slight shame. Your gaze did not move from your lap.

Slightly annoyed by your unmoving eyes Ao’nung reached for your face. His finger rested under your chin bringing your eyes too his. He wore a satisfied expression as his eyes bore into yours.

“Eyes on me forest girl.”

Your efforts too push down the rising feelings for the ocean boy seemed fruitless. Every attempt to gaslight yourself seemed futile because as soon as his eyes met yours the butterflies ragged in your stomach. It did not seem to matter how much insults he threw at you, if anything it got you even more hooked. He would say mean words but his actions did not match his tone as he would gently guide you into the correct position or take you away from the group too help you out.

Although his sweet behaviors did not extend too your siblings. Ao’nung was often cut throat and mean too them. It made you conflicted and sad. You did not wish too feel these things for someone who was cruel too your twin, too your older siblings. Thank Eywa Tsireya was there to intervene most of the time. She was even the one too teach you how to stay on an ilu. She had insisted on teaching you and Kiri hoping that her brother would warm up too the sully boys after teaching them too ride.

Her hopes did not get her very far as Ao’nung was a stubborn man, his high rank did not help his attitude. He taught your brother too ride masterfully but he was not gentle in his teachings. He argued that it was obviously effective as you could only ride bear back, helpless in a saddled ilu. It made you embarrassed that he brought up your lack of skill in front of the others.

You were quick to shy away from their gazes picking at your hands. Kiri had been a natural at almost everything they had throw at her while you were the opposite. Even Lo’ak caught onto things faster than you! It was clear that your skills did not lie in the water. On the other hand Ao’nungs mood over the weeks only seemed to get worse as he was always stuck with your brothers.

After what Ao’nung would describe as a horrid day he was preparing too hunt with his friend. Tsireya had released you and kiri early as the lesson on healing was rather short due too your guys prior knowledge. You had gone too pick the two of you some fruit, and on the way back you were met with a dreadful sight. Ao’nung was obviously harassing your sister as his friend surrounded her, snickering at Ao’nungs action and words. It made your blood boil as he grabbed for her hands, Kiri obviously uncomfortable and trying too get away.

You had never been the confrontational type but your normal timid personality seemed thrown out the window as you rushed towards you sister. The basket of fruit was long forgotten as your legs carried you too her at record speed. Throwing the fruit in your hand at the taller na’vi a hiss breached your lips as you shoved him with your momentum. The force made Ao’nung and you stumble back slightly.

“Do not touch my sister!”

Ao’nung ears perked up as a smirk plastered on his face at your tone. He was use too a relatively quite y/n. Sometimes you would insult him back but other than that you were quite and flustered during your interactions with him. He had never seemed too be able to hit a nerve like he did with your other siblings and he felt a foreign feeling as you looked at him with fury in your yellow eyes.

“Another four fingered freak enters the scene!”

A series of chuckles were heard as his freakish looking friends giggle around you. Kiri only glared at the boy as she stood beside you. Pushing down the slight fear you felt you hissed at the taller na’vi slowly getting into a defensive position.

“Y/n do not do anything stupid.” Kiri whispered her worried tone filling your ears.

“The only freaks I see here are you and your mutated friends!”

A flash of an emotion you could not decipher ran through Ao’nungs eyes as he was quick to grab your hand holding it up so high you had to rise too your tipi toes. A slight groan left your lips as your body stretched out. Threatened kiri was quick too bite Ao’nung. Using his moment of surprise you planted your feet on the ground flipping the much bigger na’vi over your body.

A laugh left the girl lips as you positioned yourself on the na’vi trying your best to keep his arms down. His little friends were now quite, shocked that two forest girls could bring such a big na’vi down.

“I love a woman who can take control.”

Ao’nungs eyes looked into yours. He seemed exited by your new aggression as he fought you for dominance. Feeling oddly uncomfortable by the scene Kiri was quick too usher Ao’nungs lackeys away flashing them her red teeth. Although she would usually stay and aid you in anyway possible she knew it was not her place as a woodspirte danced around the two of you. Of course that jackass has to be the one Eywa chose for you. Slipping away she allowed the scene too unfold as she went too search for her brother, intending too inform them of the recent events.

You did not even notice Kiri slipping away as Ao’nungs hands broke free. He now had you in control grabbing your wrist and placing them together in one of his hands. There was no doubt that he was much bigger than most Omaticaya men as both your wrist could be held in one hand of his. His grip was firm but not painful as he waited for your struggle too stop, than soon let go. Suddenly you felt flushed at your position, legs straddling his waist as his now free hands made its way too your hips.

Ao’nung lifted his torso up easily as if there was not a whole na’vi on top of him. Sliding down into his lap you felt your breath catch in your throat. A purr of satisfaction ran through Ao’nungs chest as he dropped his hands too your legs seeming too admire you.

“You freaks are quite light.” As the words were processed in your brain it was almost as if you were knocked out of a trance. Your body flinched away from his touch. Seeming to get the message Ao’nung was quick to remove his hands from you. You felt a storm of mixed feelings as you looked at the man not knowing how too react. You felt anger at his action yet your heart felt light as the ghost of his touch still lingered.

“Yet you seem quite comfortable at this freaks proximity.” The words came out in a sneer as you glared at Ao’nung. You had decided you would be angry at him, he was wrong to gang up on Kiri and what type of sister what kind of sister would you be too just forgive him because he was gentle with you.

“It was nice to finally get a rise out of you.” His signature smirk plastered across his face made you hiss in dissatisfaction. Shoving his chest you glared at the man about to rise too your feet before firm hands held you down.

“I meant no serious harm.”

“Your a dick! Let me go!” Raising your voice Ao’nungs eyes seemed too soften but before he could make any moves your arm was grabbed as his upper body was pushed into the ground. A hiss left the Metkayina throat as he was quick too rise too his feet.

“Don’t you ever touch my sister again fish lips!” Lo’aks aggressive voice rang through your ears as you looked at your twin. His grip on your arm was firm as his tail whipped in aggression. Ao’nung seemed to mirror his body language not willing too back down.

“Lo’ak it’s ok I had it under control!” Placing a hand on your brothers chest you attempted to calm him down. His cat like eyes pierced your as his gaze softened.

“Yeah your sister loves throwing herself at me.”

Shocked you looked at Ao’nung who’s eyes were not on you. He was obviously trying to get Lo’ak too snap and just that happened. Tearing himself away from you he stomped over too the boy.

“Bitch!”

THWACK

𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅

The thoughts of the day crashed over you in waves as you sat on a rock. The waves were not far from your figure as you were lost in thought. An immense guilt filled you at the fact that Lo’ak had been punished for something you considered your fault. You hated seeing your brother scolded it filled you with an unbearable sadness, but that was not the only thing that troubled your mind. Ao’nungs words did not seem to leave you as you rethought all of your interaction. Did he see you as a desperate? Were you just another one of his sick twisted games? Did the light touches, extra attention, and looks mean nothing?

You felt like a idiot. Such a stupid, stupid girl. Brining your knees too your chest you couldn’t help the hot tears from breaching your eyes. You were such a fool, for even thinking there was something there. You felt so stupid for allowing yourself too fall for the boy. For the way the water dripped from his curls, his stupid laughs, his dumb smug smirk that seemed to always be plastered in his face. You hated the way he touched you as if you were a delicate flower, how he would tease you and make your stomach swirl, and how your heart would jump every time your eyes met.

Feeling cold water against your feet you tore your head away from your knees. Looking up ocean eyes stared down at you with an unreadable look. Shock filled your features as you were quick to wipe away your tears trying too hide the evidence of your sorrows.

“Y/n” Your name rolled off his tongue smoothly. Ao’nung eyes softened as he scanned your form. Placing himself next too you eyes never leaving your body.

“Why are you here Ao’nung.” Your voice came out raspy as you stared at the ocean, gaze unwavering. It was obvious that you had been crying.

“I just wanted to check on you, didn’t see you at the dinner.”

You almost scoffed as the words left his mouth. Worrying after harassing you and your family all day? Could someone be anymore bipolar. “I have no words for you. I would not wish for anyone too think i’m throwing myself at you.” Although you intended for the words to come out in a harsh tone they left your lips laced in a pain Ao’nung could not decipher.

“I said I meant no harm-” Aggressively rising too your feet you cut the boy off. Your eyes filled with pain and anger as you stared at the Metkayina. “It does not matter what you intended it matters what it did too my family, to me!” Vision blurring from your tears you did not even know the Metkayina stood in front of you until his rough hands were placed on your cheeks. You felt his course thumb rub under your eyes wiping the tears away. You hated the way your heart leaped at the action, craving more of his touch.

Forcing his hands away from your face you shoved them away. “I will not be one of your games Ao’nung! Leave my family alone.” The last part came out barley above a whisper as you turned away from the man. Ignoring the ache of your heart and yearning of your body you stomped away from him tears running down your face in waves.

Watching you retreating from with his ears back and heart sunk Ao’nung thought over his actions. A slight guilt built up at the sight of your tears, tears he had caused. As your form disappeared from his sight Ao’nung knew he fucked up bad. He had lost his favorite forest girl.

a/n: I love love love Ao’nung🤭

this will probably be a 2 shot thing but let’s see where it goes

[sloanesallow]

need

Sebastian misses his girlfriend. The solution? Well, surprise her, of course! Alternatively, needy and greedy Sebastian. ✨Sebastian Sallow x F!MC Tags: NSFW! MDNI! Explicit sexual content, oral sex (f receiving), face-sitting, needy Sebastian and lots of cheesy dialogue. 2.6k words [Read on Ao3] | [Read on Wattpad]

Sebastian Sallow is an idiot.

He knows he’s an idiot and it isn’t because his roommates Ominis and Garreth tells him so almost every day. No, it’s because only an idiot—a needy, madman in love—would apparate, uninvited to his girlfriend’s flat in Marseille in the middle of the night.

This is the first time since the start of his romantic relationship with Sloane that they’ve spent significant time apart. While he works his apprenticeship at Gringotts in London, she is in the south of France, researching with an elite group of herbologists. Wary of the split from the start, time and distance has made Sebastian unwell, to put it mildly.

His need for Sloane is a thrumming pulse in his veins, an ache that won’t subside no matter how he tries to distract himself. To say he misses her is an incredible understatement. The separation gnaws at him, a relentless hunger that only her presence can satiate.

When did he become so co-dependent—or has he always been this tethered to her?

The yearning threatens to turn him mad. With an address and her in mind, he slips through space and time itself, traveling over six-hundred miles in the blink of an eye. Sebastian can smell the ocean when he materializes with a pop on a dimly lit street, glancing from the parchment in his hand to the placard on the nearby building.

He is an idiot, he thinks to himself again as he climbs the stairs as quickly and quietly as he can until he’s staring at the bronze number 8 pinned to Sloane’s door. It takes him several moments to collect his thoughts, practicing what he might say when she opens the door—Merlin, he hopes she’ll open the door.

What time is it?

His first few knocks are far too gentle, not nearly loud enough for anyone to hear. Glancing at his surroundings as if he is being watched by some unseen force, he shuffles his feet and tries again, this time rapping his knuckles a little harder against the thick wood. Nearly a minute passes and he wonders how acceptable it would be to just break in when the door creaks open.   

Sebastian forgets how to breathe.

There she is, standing in the doorway—Sloane, dressed in the tiniest chemise known to mankind. Barefoot and bleary-eyed, she doesn’t seem to comprehend his presence, lazily covering her mouth as she yawns. His restraint is threadbare, fingers twitching at his sides as he resists the urge to yank her into his embrace.

“Do you always answer the door half-naked, sweetheart?” he teases, flicking his gaze from one exposed patch of skin to the next.

“I was asleep—” she mumbles half-heartedly, and he grins when realization settles across her face. “Seb—Sebastian!?”  

Fuck it.

He crosses the threshold, and Sloane barely has time to react as he plucks her up off the ground and into his arms. Her legs instinctively wrap around his waist, soft hands framing his face as he kisses her like the greedy bastard he is. Sebastian kicks the door shut, relishing in the heat of her body against his. He kisses her until his lungs burn for air, pulling away just enough to alleviate the sting and look at her through heavy-lidded eyes.

“Where’s your bed?” he murmurs against her lips.

Sloane, in a surprised haze, take a moment to reply. “Down the hall.”

Sebastian steadily makes his way through the small dwelling until they reach her cozy bedroom, an organized mess of journals, potions, and plants. Her bed reminds him of the sleeping arrangements back at Hogwarts—large enough for one person, barely enough room for two. Good thing he doesn’t plan on sleeping.

Sloane lets out a breezy laugh as he flops her down on the mattress, her body stretched out for him to admire. He remains standing bedside, mirroring her delighted expression, thankful she didn’t have a negative reaction to his surprise. She watches him with sparkling eyes as he disrobes, haphazardly shedding his clothes until only his socks remain.

“Are you really here?” she asks as he shifts to hover over her, bracing his weight on his elbows. Her fingers trace the outline of his face again as if he is a figment of her imagination that might disappear.

“Yes,” he simply answers, momentarily slowing down to pepper her face with sweet kisses before trailing down the curve of her neck. She smells like fresh rain and lemon zest. “Have you been dreaming of me?”  

Sloane’s coy smile and brilliant blush is enough of an answer. Her breath hitches as he nips the delicate skin above her collarbone. “But why are you here?”

“Isn’t it obvious, sweetheart?” Sebastian teases, a devious chuckle echoing against her ear. He pulls back just enough so their eyes can meet. “I missed you.”

She sighs, something between pleasure and amusement. “It’s been—”

“Three months,” he quips. “I know. But…being apart from you, Sloane…it’s harder than I ever imagined it to be.” He steals a quick peck, and then another. “Work keeps me busy, but when I go home in the evening and you’re not there, I find myself…lonely.”

“And I can’t very well go sneaking into Ominis’ room,” he comments with only a little sarcasm. “Well, I could, but I don’t think he’d appreciate me waking him up for a snuggle.”

“Is that what you call it?” Sloane’s nose scrunches up as she giggles. “You really came all the way here to…fuck?”

“Don’t say it like that!” Sebastian murmurs, hanging his head at the tickle of shame that churns his gut. The optics of his impromptu visit made him out to be an even bigger cad than usual. “Good grief, woman, you know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

“It isn’t like I’m spending every waking hour of every day in a perpetual state of sexual frustration—”

“You aren’t?”

He blinks, realizing Sloane is teasing him. She smirks, leaning up to kiss him in the soft way that always calms his heart. “I missed you too, Sebastian.”

For several moments they simply kiss, languid and unhurried despite the circumstances. A small part of him regrets this impulsive decision, knowing his time in Marseille is limited—a few hours at most. Time will tell if he’s inadvertently added to his suffering when he has to leave, not knowing when they’ll see each other again.

“How long can you stay?” she asks when he breaks away to kiss down her neck and shoulder, as if she can read his mind. Instead of answering right away, he follows the low line of her negligée, her breath hitching when he tugs the fabric down with his teeth.

“I have an appointment at the Ministry in the morning,” he says, words mumbled as he sucks her exposed nipple into his mouth. Sloane moans and it is a sound he’s been yearning to hear. “But I can be…late.”

Sebastian shifts, lowering his body down as he pushes her nightgown up, bunching it beneath her breasts. He kisses across her abdomen, dipping his tongue into her navel and grinning when she squeaks at the ticklish sensation. Sloane lifts her hips when he tugs at the band of her underwear, making it easy for him to peel them away and toss over his shoulder to join the pile of discarded clothes on the floor.

It isn’t until Sebastian is about to make himself comfortable between her spread legs that he notices something…different. He falters, eyes darting up to see Sloane biting back a cheeky smirk. His gaze drops back down to the apex of her thighs, where instead of the soft blonde curls he’s used to seeing, there is only bare flesh.

A strangled chuckle escapes him. “What did you do?”

“I did as the French do,” she simply explains, clearly amused by his bewildered reaction. “One of the other researchers here, a girl my age, insisted on taking me shopping.”

“Is this what they call shopping in France?” Sebastian sarcastically remarks, slowly brushing his fingers across her now smooth skin. Whatever Sloane’s response was to be dies on her tongue as she whimpers, hips twitching towards his touch. Fuck—she’s so warm, and soft, and he suddenly can’t wait to taste her like this.

Just as he’s about to dip his head down, a wicked idea flashes through his mind, a fragment of a fantasy he’d constructed while alone in his bed with only his thoughts and his hand. He pulls away, delighting in the mewling whine that slips from her lips. She watches him with a confused expression as he stretches out next to her, his head comfortably resting on the pillows.

“Straddle me,” he says, rather plainly, flashing a wicked grin. “Sit on my face.”

Sloane’s eyes widen and for a moment Sebastian is worried that he’s scandalized her, but he can’t take it back now. He licks his lips, carefully observing his sweet girlfriend’s face as she mimics the action, clearly envisioning the act in her mind. The second she moves, his hands are on her waist, helping to position her body above his. Her knees press into the pillow on either side of his head, and when she glances down, he thinks she must be an angel sent to escort him to the afterlife.

She flashes a shaky, uncertain smile, “like this?”

Sebastian groans in satisfaction, the scent of her arousal dizzying, intoxicating. She’s barely situated when he darts his tongue out, tightening his grip around her hips to keep her steady. He licks a stripe through her folds, repeating the action in broad strokes as he lavishes her, unable to resist. The taste of her is something he wishes to bottle, to drown in later when he’s forced to depart.

He wraps his lips around her clit, eagerly sucking the bundle of nerves that makes her quiver. Sloane’s breath catches, a broken whine spilling from her panting mouth as she braces herself against the headboard. Her fingers grip the wooden frame and her head sags forward, eyes clenched tight as she succumbs to his fervor.

“Rock against me, love,” he instructs, a raspy request made against her inner thigh. Sloane complies in a heartbeat, brows furrowing together in concentration. Sebastian supports her, his fingers squeezing around her hips as he guides her movements against him. “That’s a good girl—fuck—you taste so good.”

He’s relentless in his desire, desperate to feel her come undone. He pushes his nose against her, nearly smothering himself as he probes her entrance with his tongue, grinning when she makes a high-pitched, satisfied sound. Sebastian groans in response, gripping her tighter as her thighs begin to tremble, her body tensing as he edges her ever closer to oblivion.

“Sebastian,” Sloane gasps out, her voice a strained whisper, a plea laced with the ecstasy he’s drawing out from her. She arches, head thrown back as her chest heaves with every ragged breath. Her rocking becomes more frantic, seeking out the sensations his wicked mouth is conjuring.

Seconds later she shatters, crying out his name in a broken moan that nearly sends him over the edge as well. Sebastian holds her through it all, his arms moving to wrap around her thighs and waist as she convulses against him. All the while his mouth never ceases its frenzy, coaxing out every tremor until she’s slumped against the headboard.

When she starts to teeter, he’s there to catch her, gently placing her against the pillows so she can catch her breath. Sebastian is equally winded, but the slight sting to his lungs is worth it to see such a fucked-out expression on her face. He rolls to frame her body with his own, slotting his hips between her thighs so he can press his aching cock against the slick mess he’s just created.

“Do you need a moment?” he asks, gruffly. He balances his weight on one arm, using his free hand to tenderly cradle the side of her face. Sloane shakes her head, flashing a breathless smile as she shifts to accommodate his eager arousal. She hooks her legs around him and he reaches between them to guide himself, easily sliding into the tight warmth of her core.

As soon as he is fully sheathed inside, Sebastian takes a moment to absorb the sensation, wishing he could stay with her—inside her—forever. His initial rhythm is slow and measured as he watches Sloane’s face, memorizing every flicker of pleasure, every sigh and crease that forms between her brows as she loses herself to the feeling. His pace gradually builds, intensifying with each stroke as the fire between them burns.

Sebastian gathers her hands in his free one, pinning them above her head as he shifts his weight to grind down, the angle allowing him to slip deeper. Sloane responds with a litany of moans, her back arching up to meet each roll of his hips. Eventually his thrusts grow more insistent, more demanding as he craves to see her climax once more. Her legs sinch around his waist and her walls clench around him, urging him on, silently begging for the release that is so, so close.    

He captures her lips in a searing kiss, both hungry and panting as the end draws near. Sebastian grunts as he ruts against her, completely losing control as her entire body shudders and tenses with the wave of her orgasm. His own builds at the base of his spine, a heat that threatens to consume him—and he might just let it. Before he can fully realize it, he’s spilling into her depths, the two crying out in tandem ecstasy.

The next coherent thought Sebastian has is when he’s blinking up at the ceiling, his heart still pounding in his ears from the intensity of their coupling. He attempts to steady his breathing, but it’s a lost cause. Instead, he turns his head to find Sloane in a similar state on her back, a content smile curling her lips in an adorable way.

She lazily glances at him and sighs. “I missed you.”

He nearly ruins the moment with a crass joke about her missing his cock, but decides that saying something earnest is better.

“I miss you every day, Sloane. And I can’t wait for you to come home,” he says, reaching over to delicately trace the curve of her cheek with his fingers. “Well, wherever you want to call home, that is. I don’t suppose you’d want to live in a tiny London flat with two other men–”

He stops when he realizes he’s rambling. 

“Anyways…” he sighs, brushing through her hair. “I am ready to spend every night like this.” 

“Every night?”

“Yes,” he quickly replies. “And morning. And afternoon. Every minute we can spare.”

Sloane smiles, and for several minutes they simply exist, gazing into each other’s eyes as the present and future looms. She exhales, and there’s a sadness in her eyes that he doesn’t want to see. “Are you sure you have to leave?”

“Are you sure you have to stay?” he counters, though he knows it would be unfair to ask her to come back to London. He attempts a tease, “you know, you could come visit me.”

“I could,” she agrees with a nod, though her tone indicates she’s skeptical. “But I don’t have roommates. Ominis may be blind, but he doesn’t need to hear us—” “Nothing he hasn’t heard before,” Sebastian murmurs, earning him a playful pinch. He sighs, closing the distance for a moment to kiss her, knowing their time is running out. “We’ve always been resourceful, sweetheart. We’d find a way to be together.”

The levity gradually melts into a content silence, Sloane scooting to nuzzle against his side with her head on his chest. Sebastian wraps his arms around her, his hands slowly caressing up and down her back until he can sense she’s drifted to sleep.

He’ll stay, just for a little bit longer.

[queers-gambit]

Save Me From Myself

prompt: ( requested ) in a moment of unparalleled anger, you learn what Joel really thinks of you.

pairing: Joel Miller x female!reader

fandom masterlist: The Last of Us

word count: (short as hell at) 1.9k+

warnings: very mild spoilers, there's probably cursing, oneshot (no part two), hurt no comfort, mild angst, shorty shorty short short shorty! author is disappointed in this one, she wanted to give much more.

browse Clingy Baby collection masterlist here

"Gimme that," you grunted at Ellie, picking her backpack from her shoulder with ease as the shorter young lady protested with a small growl.

"I got it - "

"Take a break," you smiled at the kid, shouldering her pack. "Tell me another one of those shitty jokes you love so much."

Ellie smirked and whipped out her book, flipping through a few pages, scanning the pages, then deciding on one. "What... Is Beethoven's favorite fruit?"

You shrugged, "No idea."

"Ba-na-na-naaaaa!"

You laughed, you couldn't help it. "Goddamnit. That's a good one," you praised, eyeing her for a moment as she silently read down the page. You wondered, "You know, I meant to ask, but why that book in particular?"

"My friend gave it to me... It was a present," she explained softly, seeing your head nod of understanding. "What did one ocean say to the other?"

"Nothing, they just waved," you smirked.

"You shithead," she tisked. "Okay, okay, here's a good one. What's brown... And sticky?"

"Oh, Ellie, don't be gross - "

"A stick."

There was a long pause.

"Oh, you know what? Fuck you," You laughed heartily. "I gotta remember that, I like that one."

"You'll like this one, too. Why should you never trust stairs?"

You knew the answer, but humored her, "Why?"

"Because they're always up to something."

You chuckled, "Good one, kid, yeah. Okay, okay, wait, I got one."

"Lay it on me."

"How do you cut a Roman Emperors hair?"

"How?" She grinned, ready for the punchline.

"With Caesars."

Ellie paused, offering a confused look, "I don't get that one."

You both stared at one another for a long moment, still walking through the cold, dead field.

"You don't know Julius Caesar?"

"No? Who the hell is that?"

You chuckled, "You know what? Just as well, who fucking cares about the Roman Empire when we're living in the end-of-days?"

"It's a decent joke," Joel spoke for the first time in hours; holding his rifle protectively as he lead you both through the wilderness, "for what it's worth."

You smirked at Ellie and teased, "Told you I was funny."

"You used the term punny."

"Both are accurate."

"I think you're just an idiot."

"I think you've got a helluva mouth on you."

Ellie grinned and flipped through her book, your gaze trailing to Joel and eyeing him for a long moment. You've known him since you were 19 and hired to babysit his daughter, Sarah. Joel was everything you could've asked for - loyal, sweet, protective, respectful. You had been at their house, doing coursework for your university program when the Outbreak happened. You did what you could to help protect Sarah, but in the end, nobody was safe, nobody was immune, and Death stretch His hand unto all of mankind alike.

He left only select few, you, Joel, and Tommy being amongst the survivors.

The past twenty years had been anything but easy, and while you had gone into this pandemic together, you and Joel didn't actually stick together the whole time. When you settled in Boston with Tommy, Tess, and a few other nomads, you were exhausted from the brutality you were forced to survive in, and so, first chance you had, you broke away.

Technically, you and Tommy broke away. But still.

Joel turned to a life of shadiness with Tess at his right hand (and on his cock). The two of you becoming estranged, until he saved your ass from a pair of FEDRA agents harassing citizens.

He didn't just distract your assailants, but put them in the dirt, helped pick you up, dust off, check for injury, then escort you home. Once at your apartment, he ensured you weren't hurt and was truly okay, and after that, he was back in your life - like the snap of fingers.

You hated to admit it, but it felt nice having a constant back in your life. Joel was your tether to reality, and without him, you felt akin to a kite with the string cut - useless and drifting away.

After that, you came around a little more to see how much your old neighbor had changed in your time apart. Joel was familiar, he was family; had always been something of a source of peace for you. He was usually protective of your wellbeing - even if he had a strange (and borderline unhealthy) way of showing it - creating a bubble of safety.

You eventually left the Fireflies and met Bill and Frank, venturing out and about with Joel and Tess; the latter of who simply despised you for just existing. She was never fond of you, more so now that Joel was obviously attached to you.

Joel never let her argue about you; he never cared for her opinion nor what assumptions she had. He kept you close, he liked your close; and if she sneered any hateful slander, Joel was swift to push her away in favor of you.

One time, he even literally locked her out of the apartment because she was rude to you and told you to "get lost!".

How could you not feel safe? Comfortable? Secure?

When you made it to Jackson and found Tommy once more, you were overjoyed by his familiar face and scent, but quickly pulled him aside to voice your concern for Joel.

"He's been clutching his chest, walking slower than I've seen before," you whispered to Tommy. "I don't think he's havin' a heart episode, but somethin' ain't right, Tommy. He's not doing the best."

"I'll talk to him," he assured.

You believed him, there was no reason not to. You (willfully blindly) believed Tommy would go about this subject with sensitivity and wouldn't mention your words of concern, but you were wrong. Very wrong. Joel had a known temper and if he caught wind that you spoke his name, even in passing, he would lash out, so, truly, you thought Tommy wouldn't tip Joel off.

The moment you returned "home" (to the house you, Ellie, and Joel were offered), you were met with a fuming Joel and an awkward looking Ellie. "What's going on?" You felt worried, fearing for the worst, asking, "What's wrong?"

"You," Joel snapped. "You're what's wrong."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Joel," Ellie tried with a frown, "she just walked in 0 "

"You had a word with Tommy now, did'yah?" He demanded, ignoring Ellie to focus his glare fully on you.

"Well - yeah - I mean - "

"No," he seethed with narrowed eyes and furrowed brow, "where the hell you get off talkin' to my brother like that? Huh? You worried 'bout me, you say somethin' to me - otherwise, the hell you talkin' for?"

"Joel - "

"You overstepped," he shook his head and pointed a scolding finger at you, "and my health ain't your concern - "

"Of course, it is! Fuck's sake, how can you even say that? I get you're mad, fine, okay, you know what? I get it, I'm sorry if I overstepped by telling Tommy how worried I am, but for the love of God, Joel, I am worried about you because you're not the same man you once were!"

"Are any of us?" He huffed.

"You don't think we've noticed the way you've slowed? How you clutch your chest? I'm allowed to be worried - "

"You know, if you weren't so Goddamn clingy all the time, you wouldn't feel whatever compulsion this is to concern yourself with something that ain't got shit to do with you."

You blinked in shock, feeling disarmed by the harsh tone and bruising words he offered. "Joel, we're both worried about you,," Ellie stepped in again. "Don't be such a dick, she's just looking out for you."

"By involving those that don't need to be involved?" He sneered, glaring at the girl before rounding on you. "From now on, you stay in your place - enough with this - this fucking - this protector bullshit you think of me as. You cling any fucking tighter and I'll suffocate, so back the hell off."

You nodded slowly, watching him storm off; door slamming after him hard enough to make both you and Ellie flinch. "I, uh..." You cleared your throat, "I should... Um, uh, you know what, I'll jusy - uh, yeah, no, I can just... Yeah, I should - yeah."

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"You didn't do anything."

"No, but that wasn't very nice of him to say."

"No, I suppose not," you smiled ruefully, giving a hearty, heavy sniffle. "I should, you know, go and find somewhere to crash - "

"Why wouldn't you stay here?"

"I don't exactly like to linger where I'm not wanted," you mused, keeping your tears at bay. "I just need to clear my head for a bit. Go for a walk or something. Maybe he just needs some space, I don't want to be here and upset him more... You two have a mission at hand," you tried to smile, "that's bigger than us all, and whether I see the end of it or not doesn't matter now - what matters is you, Ellie. This petty squabble will pass," you lied, "because you're all that matters. I won't risk further upsetting Joel, gambling with this already sketchy-ass plan and put everything we've worked towards so far at jeopardy."

You both smiled ruefully.

"I know when to walk away," you ended softly.

She nodded, opening her mouth but closing it instantly; knowing you were stubborn enough that she didn't even attempt to stop you. So, she did the only thing she knew she could do: offered her joke book.

"Oh, Ellie, no," you breathed, "no, no, I can't take that, it was a gift."

"And now I'm gifting it to you," she shrugged, holding the book out. "C'mon, just take it, it'll make me feel good knowing you're cracking shitty jokes to yourself - or whoever will listen."

"I can't take this," you whispered.

"Just make sure you stay alive to give it back," Ellie compromised.

"Deal," you smirked, opening your arms and embracing the girl the moment she rushed into your chest. "I'll miss you," you whispered. You promised to see her as soon as you could (so you could return the joke, of course), kissed her forehead, then grabbed your bag, which had yet to be unpacked, and left the house.

You managed to find lodging in the old cantina, and you'd never know that when Joel got back that evening and saw your items gone, he breathed a sigh of relief. In his head, with you gone, it was one less painful reminder of Sarah, the life he had before; and while his mind played tricks into thinking he saw Sarah in town today, he realized you were the constant trigger.

The single strand that kept him in the past.

Constant reminder of who he was, who he wanted to be.

Prevented him from truly moving on.

Though not done in the best or most respectful way, in his heart, Joel knew he needed to shove you into the mud to get you to let go; you saw too much "good" in him. You saw him in the same light as Sarah, and he couldn't handle that; could not fathom that there was anyone left in this world who saw anything remotely humane in him.

So, Joel did what he did best: made his own life infinitely harder by pushing away those who loved him.

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[newroseanna]

"I don't love you."

A/n: sorry if this is bad!! and please comment down more genshin characters I should write for. I was thinking Ayato and Xiao next!

Characters included: Scaramouche and Childe.

Warnings: Yandere themes, forced marriage, mentions of killing. Use of wife and honey. GN!reader (?).

Scaramouche:

When you weren't at the door to greet scaramouche, he knew something was wrong. Maybe you were just asleep, but you and the maids knew better than that. Scaramouche swiftly made his way up to your shared room. Opening the door with a little bit more force than he anticipated. He was met the sight of you sitting down on the edge of the bed back facing him. You were you looking at the window, not saying a word. "Did you not know when I got back? I expected you at the door to greet me like a good little wife." He said, his voice dripping with venom. But when you didn't answer, he walked closer. "Did you go deaf or something?" Scaramouche grabbed roughly your shoulder, effectively turning you around, and he was met with an empty looking face. Your usually alive eyes were soulless. Almost as soulless as his. He wasn't surprised, but he also didn't like this change. But he doesn't feel any remorse what so ever. "I don't love you. Please let me go and find someone who actually will." You whispered.

Scaramouche narrowed his eyes at you, his hand trailing to your hair, twisting his fingers around it and tugging it violently towards himself. "What bullshit are you spewing from your cute little lips. You don't know what you're talking about. I don't care if you don't love me. If I did, I wouldn't have kidnapped you. I love you, and that's all that matters." He paused, using his other hand to run his finger over your lips. "Say something as idiotic as that again, and I will sew your lips shut."

Childe:

You and Childe were currently eating out in a restaurant to celebrate your birthday. He originally asked you what you wanted, and you replied with seeing your family. But obviously childe make that happen. So a restaurant was the next best thing. But he booked out the whole restaurant for just the two of you. Again, he couldn't have cause a scene in front of other people and escaping, can he now? You should be grateful that you're actually getting out of the house.

Childe, for the whole time, was yapping about random things while you just sat there and thought about your old life. The life that was taken away from. Your family, your friends, heck even the people you didn't like too much. You took it all for granted. But it's not every day that someone gets kidnapped and forced to be a fatui harbingers wife. That thought would've never crossed your mind in a million years. Yet here you are. Your feet shackled to the chair while you were made to listen to your "husband" talk about his work. "(Name) honey, I love you." He said with a huge smile. This broke you out of your little trance. "Do you love me too?" He asked, examining your face and waiting for an answer.

You looked up at him. Then, I looked back down at your untouched food. "No, I don't love you. I never will." You said firmly. You're probably going to get punished for this, but you're tired of pretending. Childe smile didn't falter he ocean blue eyes stared straight into your soul. "You love your family and your friends, though? It would be a real shame if they were to die. Then maybe you would realise that I'm the only one you need. Now eat your honey your food is getting cold."

[grandlinedreams]

[heads up!: cursing, brief mention of implied abuse (not from Zoro)]

“Just shut up, damn it! Go find someone else to pester instead of bugging me!”

He doesn’t mean it. The moment the words slip from his lips, he knows he’s going to regret it – especially since it’s born out of irritation over something that’s far from your fault. Training had not been going the way he wanted. Most recent injuries still healing, the stubborn, persistent ache of his body had steadily pushed him into a darker and darker mood.

And then you had come up to ask him a question – if he’d wanted something to drink, something to eat – and then the question that’d tipped him over the edge. “Shouldn’t you be resting instead of trying to train? I don’t think it’d be good for you to reopen something…”

And he’d snapped, eye blazing with fury as he jerked his arm out of your reach. 

You freeze, arm dropping back to your side. He expects you to lash out, fire back – you know how to hold your ground, and he’s been a front-row witness to how sharp of a tongue you have when you’re (rightfully) pissed. 

But you don’t. 

Instead, your expression goes blank and you turn, slipping back down from the observation deck. In the absence of words, the hard click of your descent offers a finality that makes a chill slide down his spine.

He knows he should apologize, but pride is a difficult thing to swallow – especially when he knows he’s at fault for this. So he stays put, shoving down guilt in favor of resuming his training and pointedly ignoring the protest of his bandaged wounds. 

By the time he comes down for dinner, Zoro is in a far better mood than he’d started with – he’s finally managed to get where he wants to with training, and his injuries have eased from persistent ache to a dull throb that he can tune out. 

Entering the dining room and spotting you in your usual seat with the standard empty one beside you for him, he moves to take his seat – only to watch as you get to your feet and leave the table entirely. 

“Where are you going? Are you feeling okay?” Nami’s the one to ask, just as confused by your abrupt behavior as Zoro is. 

“I’m fine,” you answer, turning to give the navigator a reassuring smile. “Just remembered I wanted to watch the sunset, that’s all.”

 Zoro watches you go, wondering if he’s forgotten some agreement the two of you’d made beforehand – and turns to find Nami staring at him. He frowns, already on the defensive. “What?”

“What did you do now?” Her tone is accusing, her eyes narrowing as Zoro’s temper flares once more.

“Why are you assuming I did something?” 

Nami folds her arms across her chest, raising an eyebrow. “Because you’re not the most perceptive person around when it comes to anything but fighting,” she points out and he bristles, even though he knows she’s right. “Think, Zoro. I’m sure you should apologize for something.”

“No, I–” He halts. He does have something to apologize for, doesn’t he – how he’d yelled at you, the look you’d given him before turning and leaving. It’s clear that you’re still upset about that, and while he doesn’t blame you, like hell he’s going to admit that he did do something to Nami or anyone else. “Whatever. I’m leaving too.”

He gets to his feet and moves in the direction you’d gone, ignoring the mutter of what sounds suspiciously like “idiot” from behind him in favor of searching for you. True to your word, you’re up towards the bow of the Sunny, arms folded on the railing as you stare out at the ocean. 

Apologize. It's easy, in theory ㅡ to say "I'm sorry" and wait for you to respond if you forgive him or not. And yet he can't quite shape the words, settling for the next best thing.

Pretending nothing happened.

"Dinner's gonna go cold," he says as he approaches, and he doesn't miss the way you stiffen at the sound of his voice, but otherwise ignore him. "Want me to bring it out to you?" You don’t answer, and he can’t help the flare of frustration. Are you really going to ignore him like this? “Not talking to me now?"

Your hands curl against the railing. You've been trying your best not to think about earlier, the unpleasant memories it'd unearthed ㅡ and the fact that Zoro wants you to pretend like nothing happened only furthers the sour taste in your mouth.

'He isn't like that,' you tell yourself firmly. He has a hair-trigger temper that sparks over some of the dumbest things from time to time (especially where Sanji is involved), but it fizzles out quickly. 

But you know the consequences of anger behind closed doors, away from prying eyes and ears ㅡ fingers brush your shoulder and adrenaline floods your veins, ripping you out of your unpleasant reverie as you jerk away, fixing Zoro with wide, frightened eyes. “Don’t touch me!”

Your voice isn’t loud enough to be heard by anyone else, but it still startles Zoro all the same – for the vehemence in your tone and the look that you’re giving him, like you’re afraid of him, that he’s going to – realization hits him harder than any enemy ever could.

Oh. Shit.

Of course you’d reacted the way you had earlier when he yelled at you, jerked so harshly away from you, arm raised as though he – he feels sick. How could he have forgotten? He knows he’d never do that to you, would never dream of it – but it hardly matters when he’d offered a blow of a different kind, just as devastating. 

Apologize. He isn't even sure if that’ll fix the damage done now, but he can’t stand the idea of you being afraid of him. Shrinking at his voice, flinching any time he moves near you – he takes a step towards where you’re crouched now, trying to calm the panicked rhythm of your breathing.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and though he wants to touch you, he resists. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you earlier. It wasn’t anything you did, I was in a bad mood and…that’s no excuse to raise my voice at you.”

You’re shaking. It’s minute, but he can still see the tremble of your limbs and it only drives the knife deeper, knowing he’s the one to blame for this – and then you’re lurching towards him, a choked yelp coming from him as he struggles to steady both of you. “Hey–”

“Idiot,” you whisper, hiding your face against his shoulder. “You’re an absolute moron, Roronoa Zoro.” 

“I know.” Tentatively, he brings a hand up, cups the back of your head. “But I’m your moron, right? Your favorite idiot?” 

Your hands fist into his shirt. “Unfortunately, yeah.” He hums, adjusting to hold you closer as your breathing slows into a steadier cadence. “Zoro. I don’t want you to think this means I’ve forgiven you.” You can feel him still against you, and you lift your face from his shoulder to look at him properly. “The next time you raise your voice at me like that–”

“There won’t be a next time,” he tells you firmly, conviction clear in his tone. “It won’t happen again.” 

“Promise?”

His hand drifts from your hair to cup your cheek, relieved that you lean into his touch now. “I promise.”